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axiina · 6 months

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I saw your post about writing for Coriolanus Snow Andi was thinking classic enemies to lovers nsfw I’ll give you free liberty with everything else 💕

'I hate you' is new 'I love you'

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!reader (gender neutral afab)

Summary: When your professor tells you to come to an agreement with your enemy, and you take 'come' too literally.

Words: 3.2k

Themes: smut, nsfw

Warnings: using of 'you' to reader, set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, more like academic rivals to lovers but they want to fight at some point so I guess it counts, NSFW | public sex (or more semi-public), unprotected sex (wrap it before tap it), p in v sex, kinda toxic but it's enemies to lovers, more like enemies who fuck, Coryo is pretty rough and possessive, marking, making out, idiots in love but they prefer fighting with each other

Author's note: I found some free time between studying, so I decided that I can no longer delay. English is not my first language so i hope that i didn't do too much mistakes. It is possible that a single "she" or "her" will appear here because I changed the concept during writing and I do not know if I got rid of everything. Let me know whether to stay with the use of 'you' or maybe replace it with personal pronouns or 'y/n'. I hope it's not written very awkwardly and you will like it!!

Coriolanus Snow is a peculiar person. Most people love him. Nice, classy, handsome and rich from a wealthy family. What more could one want? However, one of Coriolanus' traits that everyone seems to turn a blind eye to is his two-facedness. Some say this is merely a symptom of his cunning and wits. He knows when and how to behave to make his counterpart happy. You are not one of those people. Saying that you and Coriolanus Snow don't like each other is a huge understatement. You guys hate each other. From the very beginning when you both met at the academy it was known that you would cause a lot of problems. Too much of a character difference, or perhaps too much of a similarity between the two. However, this is not what is crucial. Whatever it is, it makes you two most likely to kill each other if you could. Every move you make you do to screw each other up. To prove who is better.

Professor Satyria's pleas for you to finally come to an agreement are of little use. The conflict must go on, and neither of you has any intention of giving up.

You like the way things are working out. At first, Snow was annoying and you didn't understand how people couldn't see him for what he really was. Fake. Now he is still annoying, but getting under his skin has become a sort of routine. Quite a pleasant one.

"You have to get along with each other and set a good example as rightful citizens of the Capitol, otherwise the Academy will draw out the consequences."

Professor Satyria's words continue to ring in your ears as you get ready to go home after finishing classes and doing punishment work. On the one hand, you don't want something as silly as arguing to weigh on your future, but on the other hand, reaching out to agree is like admitting you were wrong. Failure.

"Wherever I am you must also appear. Are you obsessed with me?" Behind your back, you heard a familiar, annoyingly kind voice, in which you could sense some arrogance. You groaned turning around to see no one else but Coriolanus.

"Don't you have anything better to do? People are finally getting tired of your idiocy?" Your words, however, did not budge the blond. His expression remained unchanged. One that might make most people think he is a nice person. You, however, have known him long enough to see right through it. Perfect. Too perfect.

"We need to talk. A positive outcome for both sides. It will interest you." Well, the threat of Satyria. He is the first one to extend his hand for agreement. Where is the trick? You look at him suspiciously without saying a word, and so Snow takes it as a sign that you are thinking about the proposition. "Do you have free time? Maybe we could go out somewhere together?"

The suggestion makes you burst into laughter. "With you? No thanks, I'll pass on this pleasure."

Coriolanus is not surprised by your answer. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. Accepting rejection, however, is not his strong point. He is annoyed by your behaviour, but he bites his tongue to avoid responding in the same spiteful way. Instead, he doesn't give up.

"I know we were never on good terms, but I want this war between us to end. I hope we can put behind us all the bad things that happened between us and start fresh. What do you think about this?" he says, sounding quite sincere.

"Let me think." You say and sigh, pondering the answer, which is obvious, but you can't let go of a little malice. "No."

The expression on Snow's face became more serious. It seems that your refusal offended his pride. But he doesn't show it in his tone of voice.

"Why not?" he asks and you notice how he clenches his jaw and his gaze becomes unpleasant.

You enjoy the view and it fills you with satisfaction. "Because you think that with a pretty face and fake politeness, you can get anything. Maybe it works with others, but I'm not that stupid. Additionally, you are damn annoying. That's why."

The expression on Snow's face becomes dark. Typical when he fails to get what he wants. His usual tone is completely gone. His face is twisted with anger. He still tries to maintain a polite voice. The attempt fails.

"Do you want to repeat it?" he asks through his teeth. It's obvious that you've hit one of his sensitive points. That was the plan.

"Exhausting, isn't it? Hiding behind the mask of a nice and put-together boy from a highly placed family who is a veritable ideal is tiring, isn't it?" A mockery can be heard in your voice. Coriolanus is very sensitive to it.

"What do you think you know about me?" He asks through clenched teeth, his tone no longer artificially polite, it is filled with rage. Your mockery has really gotten to him. He tries to calm down, but it's all in vain. Coriolanus has never had problems with self-control, but something about you makes him ready to abandon everything. You manage to get him off balance with ease. In his head, he has one plan. To destroy you.

"Do you think you pretend so well?" You burst out laughing and shake your head. You know you shouldn't say such things. The academy is practically empty, and Coriolanus's angry enough can be unpredictable. However, you can't help but point out everything that annoys you about him. "It's actually quite easy to see what kind of person you are. You look at people with disgust, but when they look in your direction, you suddenly change dramatically. how fake you are to everyone. I wonder how they don't see it. How empty and shallow you are."

"You don't know anything about me!" Snow shouts at you, his face twisted with rage. He is barely able to control himself. He doesn't even try to hide it anymore. He stares at you with hatred in his eyes.

"Don't you dare assume that you know everything about me. You don't know me one bit. You don't know what my life is like. Don't think so highly of yourself. You aren't better than me." He continues, his voice getting louder with every word he says. You really hit his sensitive spot.

"I don't know everything and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. For me, the most important thing is acts, and in your case, they are fake and two-faced. You despise people, and you yourself are at the bottom." Irritation takes over. You know that at any moment you can say one word too many if you haven't already. However, someone has to talk it all out for him. Adrenaline makes you take a step closer to the upset boy without considering the possible consequences.

Snow seems to be on the verge of a breakdown. His fists are clenched and his eyes are wide open with rage. He is breathing hard, trying to control himself. He's not used to being treated this way by anyone. He has come this far over the years, solely because of himself and what role he has taken in society. You really succeeded in hurting his pride. "I warn you right now. Don't mock me any further."

"Why? What will you do? hit me? do it, I dare you. Then everyone will see how "perfect" you really are." You know the situation is starting to get dangerous. However, you come closer. It's stupid, you know it, and yet you do it. Maybe it's the way his reactions give you satisfaction, or maybe it's the way he looks at you.

You can see the hatred oozing from his eyes when they are locked on yours. His face is full of rage, his breathing heavy and his muscles tense.

He takes a step toward you with a clenched fist. You can see his knuckles turning white. He grabs you and presses you against the wall, his body against yours.

A second later, you feel him pressing you against the wall tighter than before, and his hand grips your throat.

You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. Your heart is pounding as if it wants to jump out of your chest. You feel a strange sensation in your lower abdomen. His eyes are cold, yet they make a pleasant shiver run through your body. His face is right next to yours, flesh pressing against yours. It was a matter of split seconds as you two pressed your lips to each other in an aggressive and hungry kiss.

He returns the kiss, wrapping his free hand around you. He seems to enjoy the kiss as much as you do.

You can feel his body trembling as he still tries to keep control of his overwhelming emotions, or maybe it's because of the situation you're in.

The two of you kiss aggressively. Snow's body shakes as he fights between his desire and how much you get on his nerves. You feel how rough but passionate his kiss is.

He draws you closer and your bodies press against each other. The friction of your bodies makes you uncontrollable over the muffled whimpers you make. You feel the bulge forming in his pants rubbing against your body.

The situation seems hazy, and only fragments register in your mind. How you both enter the bathroom without stopping your hungry and clumsy kisses, and your hands work to get rid of clothes that only makes it difficult. How Coriolanus presses your body against the wall slamming his hips against yours.

All this is to express yourself and give vent to all the negative emotions you have been holding for years.

Snow's body is now almost completely controlled by his emotions. His movements seem full of hatred and at the same time passion. He just wants to express himself using his flesh to claim you as his own.

You feel as if you are on fire, your body moves and reacts according to your desires. The tension that has built up between you for years is finally released, and it all comes out as raw passion.

His fast and aggressive movements make the place where your bodies meet burn in a pleasant way, and you think to yourself that it will be a miracle if you walk normally tomorrow. His dick stretches you nicely and his movements make your inside sting slightly. It's not a problem for now. Not now when your legs are wrapped around his waist and the only sounds you can make right now are moaning and repeating his name like a mantra.

Your body trembles at how rough his movements are, but you don't care now. The most important thing for you now is to show him how much you hate him. A broken moan leaves your lips when he reaches deeper.

Coriolanus feels your legs tighten around him. He moves slower now but is more passionate and rough. He holds your hips tightly, not caring if it is uncomfortable for you. His lips move to your neck, where he bites as if he is trying to unload all the emotions you are causing you this way.

His hips buck firmly against you. Each thrust makes your body more tired and aching but at the same time, it makes the whole experience even more pleasurable. If someone told you that you would end up having sex with your biggest rival in the academy bathroom, you would laugh in that person's face. There you are, panting, with your arms around his neck when Coriolanus Snow is abusing your cunt sensitive from too much friction.

Coriolanus brings his lips closer to your ear. His warm and irregular breathing makes a shiver go through your body. "Do you like it when I claim you as mine?" He purrs, his voice still filled with desire.

"I hate you, I hate you so much," You exhale in a trembling voice that takes a lot of trouble to keep from cracking. You bite and suck at the smooth skin of his neck, leaving there dark marks. "I hate you, Coriolanus Snow."

"I hate you too," Snow says with a low growl as he continues to hold you. He bites your shoulder, leaving marks on your skin. His moans are muffled by your skin, which he touches constantly, as if afraid that at any moment you might escape and leave behind only a faint memory.

You hate him, but you enjoy him. You are pleased when he takes you as his own. You are excited when he uses your body. You feel his passion and desire through his body. You feel his raw passion and it's hard to hate him now.

"oh go to hell" You hiss and bite your lower lip to stop your moans, feeling him moving faster.

He doesn't care if he hurts you or not. All he cares about is that you belong to him right now. His hips slam against yours in an aggressive peace. The bathroom is filled with sinful noises because you don't even think about the fact that someone might come in and hear them.

"you may have already fallen in love, but with me, it's not so easy" A trembling laugh leaves your lips. You feel your head getting foggier and foggier. It's hard for you to put together a meaningful sentence, "but you're doing a good job" a loud moan leaves your mouth. you close your eyes and throw your head back "mmm my sweet toy."

He hears your moans of pleasure, and his eyes close with a smile. He has won and he knows it. Snow always lands on top. He presses you against the wall with his body even tighter. His movements become more sloppy and deeper as if he wants to bury himself inside you. His body trembles as his lips leave broken moans and whimpers.

Passion is so strong that you can almost forget about hatred. You can almost fall in love with Coriolanus Snow. Almost. But you know that what you feel now is only lust, and you know that it's all temporary.

Not him. Not the arrogant boy whose whole life is based on lies. Not that boy who doesn't care about anyone. Not that boy with a beautiful face and mesmerizing blue eyes. Not him.

You press closer to his body, almost clinging to him as a wave of pleasure sweeps over your body.

Coriolanus lets out a raspy throaty moan feeling your walls pulsate around him. His voice is low and shaky. He doesn't seem to notice anything except the way you cling to his body. He moves faster and harder, making sure he satisfies you completely.

Snow is fully immersed in feelings. He can't think clearly or rationally. He only knows that he has to claim you, that he has to satisfy his needs. He wants to feel you and make the most of the situation. All his thoughts and desires are focused on you. His hip movements speed up as he reaches the climax. He hides his face in your neck to muffle his moans. His body stiffs as he comes inside you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, while his wrapped around your waist. you cling to each other, still not making contact with the real world as your breathing slowly calms down.

What happened in that bathroom is over, they both return to reality. Snow steps back slightly and helps you stand on your own two feet. He looks at you with heavy eyes. All the emotions he had been hiding inside him had finally been released.

He has won and he knows it. He has succeeded. But what now? Was it really worth it? This is not a question for now. Coriolanus does not look far into that future with his thoughts.

You look at each other in silence. Slowly you begin to realize what you have done and now you look at each other awkwardly and somewhat panicked.

Coriolanus is the first to break the silence. His cheeks are flushed and his breathing is faster. The passion he felt a minute ago still lingers in his heart, something he tries to hide from you. He looks at you with a somewhat absent and uncertain gaze

"Do you think we should forget what just happened?" He tries to make his voice sound normal as if nothing had happened.

"Definitely." The words leave your lips before you have time to think. You stare at each other in silence for a few more moments and begin to quickly put on your clothes.

Snow is surprised at how quickly you agree with him. He needs to make sure this is the end of what just happened between the two of you, so he adds.

"If anyone asks, it never happened." He now looks at you with a somewhat panicked expression on his face.

"You don't have to tell me," you scoff, buttoning your shirt, "if you tell even one soul, I'll kill you, I swear."

Coriolanus looks at you with small amusement while fixing his jacket. "I hope you won't become obsessed with me after this."

"Maybe in your dreams," you say with a slight smile fixing the collar of his shirt. " you better be careful that you are the one who will be lost in memories of me." Before you leave the bathroom you stop in front of the mirror and fix your uniform and hair. Coriolanus smiles for a moment but then quickly clears his throat and tries to look cold.

You both come out of the bathroom, look at each other and part your lips, as if to say something to each other, but you look at each other in silence "Now everything is back to normal. We can still hate each other," you say, but this does not improve your mood at all.

"It never happened," Snow says trying to look you in the eyes, wondering if you're thinking about it too. He wonders if what he feels is real, or if it's just a moment of passion.

"Never" You agree by nodding your head. Your gaze goes down to his mouth. As you look into his eyes again without a moment's thought you move closer to him and press your lips to his in-hungry kiss. He kisses you back wrapping his arms around you to bring your body closer.

You parts away after some time and you both catch your breath for a moment after this passionate kiss. Coriolanus is completely consumed with passion and there is nothing in his mind but you.

You move away and nod to each other as if you have just made a deal and each is walking in your own direction in a much better mood.

Maybe that's not exactly what Professor Satyria meant when she said you two should come to an agreement, but it certainly worked.

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jazzsonly · 1 month

Text

ʟᴏɴᴅᴏɴ.

paring(s): jenna ortega x g!p!reader

warning(s): smut, p in v, unprotected sex, mentions of past break up, mentions of drugs, smoking, drinking, cheating, sex in a bathroom, sex in front of an open window, no pronouns used for reader, uhh that’s it i think(?)

summary: you get invited to jenna’s engagement party a year after your break-up.

────────✬────────

the crisps sound of the cigarette burning crackled as your lips wrapped around it, taking a long drag you let the smoke ease through your nose before you threw the stick to the ground and stepped it on, twisting your heel to put the burn out.

nothing but a flickering street light mixed with the red light of the street light illuminated over you face, as the rain drizzled you stood on the empty sidewalk looking up at the new york apartment building, the white invitation, that you had ripped apart weeks ago, was now tapped together in your hand’s tight hold.

“excuse me?” you let out a faint ‘huh’, turning your head in the voice’s direction.

there stood an unfamiliar man clad in a dark suit.

“are you here for the engagement party? could you tell me which building it is? i’m little the lost.” he ended his words with a slight chuckle to ease the tension, clearly telling the mood you were in.

“yeah. i’m heading up there now, i’ll walk you up.” you offer, finally getting collected enough to even go in, in the first place.

the man smiles, stepping close and you both turn your heads to either side of the road before jogging across it.

1580.

from very fresh memory, you press code to access the apartment building’s front door.

“you live here?”

“nah. i know the person who does.” you offer in a sulking tone.

the man nods his head with his mouth in an ‘o’ shape. “you know jen?”

“how do you know her?”

“oh, uh, my girlfriend and her are really close so i got invited by association. my girlfriend is already here, i’m just running late from work.”

you nod, uninterested.

“how do you know jen?”

“who’s your girlfriend?” you ignore his question as you step into the elevator.

“emma. you don’t like answering questions do you?”

“jen and i used to date.” you shrug off pressing the number 4.

a face of realization came over the man, “you’re y/n?”

“and you are?” this elevator couldn’t be moving any slower.

“john.”

silence had fell over you two as the shaft came to a stop, you both stepped out at the same time, coming face to face with your’ destination.

music and chatter could be heard through the door that held a sign that read, ‘just come on in.’

“well, cheers. thanks for walking me up.” john offers a smile before disappearing into the direction of the kitchen.

you stay planted by the front door, scanning the place, there were a number of faces you recognized. co—stars of jenna and mutual friends of yours.

as you looked over the familiar apartment your eyes caught the big sign that hung from the ceiling, ‘congratulations to jenna and ari!’ in a fancy golden fond with glitter around it.

i need a drink. the thought waved over you and immediately your feet moved to towards the kitchen as did john.

to your good fortune the kitchen was empty.

scanning over the choices of refreshments, you skipped over the soda and water, going right the alcohol where you would find patron to occupy your grievances.

“y/n? hey!”

a mouthed ‘fuck’ followed with the roll of your eyes before you turn to face jenna’s co—star and your mutual friend, mason.

“hey, mas! long time no see.” you face excited as you let the man pull you into a ‘bro’ hug.

“i know, it’s been like a month since we last linked up.”

you nod, taking a big sip from the red solo cup. “ah, you know, busy, busy, busy.”

you catch the way he nods his head awkward, knowing you’d barely talked to any of the friends you shared with jenna since the split.

“you working on anything new?”

“yeah, i just booked this dc movie. i start directing in a few weeks.”

“that’s great! i’m glad to see you here...”

you wanted to crawl into a hole in die.

“it’s good you and jenna are on good terms after everything. you two create magic together, romantic or not.” he reaches and pants your shoulder in support.

“but i gotta get back to dylan and ethan, you should come say hi later, yeah?”

“sounds like a plan.” a plastic smile flashed from you, immediately dropping when the boy walked away.

safe to say you needed more than just a drink now but a cigarette.

downing what little was left in the cup, you easily made yourself up the stairs that led to the bathroom which held three stalls and an open window, only two girls stood by the mirror doing what seemed to be gossiping. you flash a smile, making your way over to the window where you lit another malboro.

i can’t believe she’s getting married.

all your thoughts seemed to be consumed with the same six words. to be truthful, it was justified because how you could you come to terms with your ex-girlfriend of six years, that you were very much not over getting married just as year after your split.

a deep inhale consumes you as you thoughts wash over you, your eyes counting the city view.

where did it all go wrong?

“you showed up.”

your eyes flutter at the voice, immediately you hit the cigarette.

jenna.

“of course i made it. wouldn’t wanna miss your big day.” you turn, you body language filled with as much sarcasm as your voice.

you take in her body, she looked the same if not better a year later. well, better than the pictures you found while instagram and media stalking her.

“you could’ve said hi, you know? but knowing you, you probably would’ve disappeared after your cigarette.” she gestures to the stick that sat between your pointer and middle.

your head tilts as you smirk a smile, eyes going to the stick and back to jen. “join me?”

wordlessly the woman steps forward, her eyes never leaving yours she attempts to grab the cigarette but swiftly, you pull back, nodding your head ‘no’ before bringing your hand up to her lips, letting her inhale.

“you been standing in the rain? you’re all wet.”

looking back out the window, “i was contemplating if i even wanted to come in or not. let my sorrow consume me far away from you or right in front of you.”

“always been a battle of yours, huh?”

wordlessly, you reach forward, throwing the lit object from the window.

“when did you meet your finance?” you inquire, a small smirk coming over your face to which jenna rolls her eyes at.

“6–8 months after we split.”

you scoff, “you move on quick, and i think you mean after you left. we didn’t split. you made that choice.”

she squints, stopping to study you for a moment.

“i didn’t leave. the relationship was toxic and you knew it. you knew then, and you know it now but your pride would let you accept it.”

“just because we were in love doesn’t mean we were right for each other, y/n.”

dramatically you throw your hands up, letting them harshly fall back down to your side.

“so, what? we argued? who doesn’t? that doesn’t mean our relationship was this big tumultuous thing, jenna!”

“look at us, we’re not even together, i’m engaged and somehow we are still arguing. we should’ve never gotten together, i should’ve never mixed business with pleasure.”

it was true, you and jenna started off as co-workers.

you, being a quite known director had landed one of the many positions on ‘wednesday’, a job you’d had been quite a fan of considering you’d previously had a hugeee crush on jenna as she rose to ‘it girl’ status in the film world.

not to mention, ‘addams family’ was one of your favs growing up.

essentially, after the first two to three weeks of filming you and jenna really started to form a closeness. you’d started a traditions where at least one person on set gets pranked every wednesday and jenna, being who she was, just loved this.

wanting to get in on the pranking action, she sparked up conversation with you which formed into you visiting her trailer to plan your next to prank, which then turned into you asking her out.

from there, your relationship spouted.

at the start you guys held a pretty content relationship with each other, bickering placed between you two at times but nothing too serious to break up—well, until your first real argument a year in.

you had gotten another job after the first season of wednesday aired, directing for marvel’s new show ‘hawkeye.’

normally after the first day of filming is done, the cast goes out to a dinner to celebrate, unfortunately for everyone paparazzi got a tip of one of the stars of the show, haliee steinfeld, was out to dinner so of course they showed up. in the mix of every thing a few pics of you and haliee were snapped, which caused dating rumors.

let’s just say, when you got home jenna was not happy with you. the situation even causing you two to split up, for a week, but still it was a split up.

over all, your and jenna weren’t ones to agree on the bigger things which caused you ‘break up’ in the long term of your six year relationship and somewhere along the lines it became too much for the young actress as she already had enough to stress over with fame so she called it quits, leaving you to self-destruct with drinking, smoking, drugs, and partying.

in the mix of your wicked lonesome you’d always thought somewhere, somehow you and jenna would end up on the same street at the same time but just a month ago did you receive an invitation to her engagement party.

“if you feel that way, why’d you even invite me? i believe one of the last things you said to me was about how you never wanted to see me again.”

she leans back like she’s shocked by your words.

“our relationship might have been a mess but we spent six years together, i learned a lot from you and us in those six years. you’ll always be special to me, y/n, that’s why i want you here.”

“six years gone is just a couple of months.” you grit, turning to walk away in a haste but failing as the woman grabs to your wrist.

she pulls you toward her, a little to close if you ask anyone else, especially her fiancé.

“don’t walk away from me, y/n! i know it hurts but can you just be here for me? can you just be happy for me?”

“do you even love her?”

“of course i do, i wouldn’t marry someone i didn’t love.” her hand was still firmly around your wrist.

“ok, so,” a bitter chuckle falls from your lips. “are you in love with her?”

you could see jenna’s tongue roll around in her mouth in distaste as she turned her head to the side and back up to you.

“why are you asking me all this? all i did was ask you to be here for me.”

again, you let a bitter chuckle slip past your lips. “you’re not even in love with the girl and you’re gonna marry her.”

“i never said tha—”

“you didn’t have to. i know you, jenna—i mean, come on we dated for six years, you’re gonna have to do better at lying than thi—”

“i’m not lying!” she defended, finally pulling her touch away.

“yes you are.” you couldn’t be more amused in this moment than you had the past year.

“you know what, i’m not doing this. don’t stay. i don’t care.”

this time jenna is the one to try to walk away but you grip her wrist the same she had done yours, pulling her back to you but this time even closer, your bodies together.

“kiss me.” it came out softer than you intended, almost like a whisper but raspy and firm.

“i—i can’t. i can’t do this with you.” she attempts to pull away but your arms wrap around her waist, keeping her in place.

you lean down, only getting the chance to brush your lips over her’s as she quickly turns her head to the side, fighting any and all temptation.

wordlessly, you let your lips connect with her cheek and gracefully move down to her jaw before lifting your head to stare back to the woman you were so familiarly enamored with.

“jenna, kiss me.” you grip the sides of her face, pulling her in, to which she definitely no longer fought from by the way she kissed you back, seemingly even more in need of it than you.

you could taste the cigarette from each other’s lips, her breath mixed with cherry and your’s with the drink you had, had earlier.

mindless thoughts flew through your head in the moment, your body so heated with final desire it melted to the inside of you. while, jenna’s filled with so many thoughts she could probably explode from them in this moment.

she knew she shouldn’t be doing this and not just because she were with someone else but because your relationship would bring nothing but chaos of heartache, but damn she loved you.

she were in love with you, even after all this time. even after being with someone else, let alone engaged to them.

nothing compared to then taste of your lips that were firmly, but sloppily moving against her’s with haste in these very seconds. or the way your hands traveled across her, up from her waist down to her ass, which you gripped harshly in a wanting manner.

alone in the bathroom, only your pants of eager desire could be heard. shamelessly all over each other, just inches from the big open window for the world to see.

quickly but surely, you flip jenna’s body, her hands immediately holding onto to that window as you hike her black dress up before impatiently undoing the strings on your sweatpants that you let drop to your ankles, along with your boxers.

you harden cock sprung free, hollowly brushing against her ass.

“i missed you so much.” you wish in her ear before kissing it.

“arch a little more for me.” your tone was soft spoken with desire.

with your left hand pressed against her lower back you use your right to align yourself before slowly sliding in, letting a groan fall from your lips and your head throw back. you couldn’t believe what was happening after such a long time.

neither could jenna believe her actions but as tempting as you were it was bound to happen. her head pressed against the window as her eyes closed in fancy, mouth firmly open with pretty moans to fall from them.

your hands gripped her waist, fingers digging into her sides as your hips move in a back and forth motion, going in and out of her while your eyes watched the sight in awe.

“tell me you love me.” you demand.

“i love you.” she easily complies.

“again.”

“i love you.”

“again.”

“i love you.”

“fuckkkkk.” you draw out, moving with more pace.

“i love you too.” you words were as just as much fire to jenna as her’s were to you.

you enflamed her in way you were half clueless to but could definitely feel by the way she pushed back trying to get you impossibly deeper and closer.

“fuck, baby. if you keep doing that i’m gonna cum.” your head flies back in pleasure.

gaining a smidge of strength in the mix of your motions, jenna pushes off the window into you.

“i’m gonna cum too. i wanna cum with you.”

“keep going.” you utter, moving impossibly faster as you feel the build up in your body set to release, assuming jenna felt the same by the way she clenches around you.

“kiss me, kiss me.” you order, leaning down to meet the girl’s lips.

you moved your motions a few more times before feeling jenna’s juices gush over you.

you followed shortly behind, letting everything go inside of her.

there was moments of silence before jenna was the one to pull away from your embrace, fixing her now soaked underwear and pulling down her dress.

a content smirk filled your face as you collected yourself.

“you—”

“jen? jenna?” any cocky remark you had to say was put on hold by what seemed to be jasmin’s voice, a co—star of jenna’s and good friend of the both of you.

as the woman came through the door, she paused, eyeing the distraught state between the both of you.

“ari is about to do the toast, hurry out.” was all she could manage before exiting the same way she had came.

this would definitely be the topic of discussion later. jenna thought as she moved over to the mirror to check her semi-messed up makeup.

“i’ll be on my way out. come over later when you’re done breaking the news to ari.”

━━━ 👩🏽‍💻

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bloodsuckingfiends · 21 days

Note

So about those smutty drabble ideas …

Astarion tries to seduce Tav but finds out he would be her first. So he will take even more special care of them. He does like Tav, after all. Whether he admits it to himself or not.

A Failed Plan

A/N: He is so smitten and doesn't even know it and I love it. Also, this came out longer than I originally intended oopsies

Warnings: blood, loss of virginity so smut, praise, Tav is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns

The metallic tang of blood, Tav's blood, hits Astarion within seconds. He withdraws himself from her core and she whimpers at the loss of fullness within her. His carmine gaze looks down to where they are joined, crimson staining both of their skin.

"Tav darling, is this your first time?" his voice is uncharacteristically soft.

Tav's cheeks and chest flush, and she takes a shaky breath, "Yes. I'm sorry, I should have told you." She flounders over her words, nervously looking up at the vampire above her.

"Shh sh sh," he hushes, his hand coming up to brush hair from her cheek, "it's alright, I just want to make sure so I can properly take care of you." A shiver shoots down his spine at the realization that he actually means what he's saying. That he does indeed want to make sure that during Tav's first time, she is cared for. That she doesn't regret it.

A small smile eases it's way onto Tav's lips as he reassures her, and her breathing begins to even out again. The beat beneath her ribcage slows, still an anxious beat, albeit less anxious now.

"If I would have known, I would have eased my way in, " Astarion drags the head of his length through her slick folds, tapping it gently against her clit, then notching it at her entrance. "Made sure that you would be able to easily take me."

Tav whimpers, tears pricking at her eyes as he slides into her, inch by painful inch. He was rather large. Larger than she expected he would be, especially for her first time.

Astarion's long fingers drag up Tav's arm, lacing with her own fingers. He dips his head to her cheek, lips pressing to the blushed skin in a soft kiss, following a path down her delicious neck, "How are you doing, pup?" His cool breath tickles her ear and she shudders.

"You're big." Tav murmurs, her thighs tightening around his waist.

"Yes, but look at you taking me so well, sweetheart." He leans back a little, making a show of watching as he slowly pulls out before easing back into her again, "so soft and warm."

"Please, more." Tav whispers a bit brokenly, her eyes meeting his. Pleasure, rather than pain, begins to build in her belly, and her brows knit together from it. Astarion's movements pick up, and he leans forward again to hold Tav against his chest. She tucks her face in the crook of his neck, eyes fluttering shut. Her hands come up to hold him back, resting on the expanse of his shoulder blades. He tenses as she touches his scars, before relaxing into her.

He snakes a hand between them, his dexterous fingers rubbing circles against her swollen clit. Tav mewls against his neck, hips bucking against his.

“Think you can c-come for me?” he tries to keep his voice steady, tries not to stutter, but he feels himself hurtling faster toward the precipice.

She moans an affirmative, her heels digging into his ass a sign that she’s close.

A few more circles and she comes, a loud cry escaping her lips as her thighs quake around his waist.

Astarion’s not far behind, and as she clenched around his cock, he falls over the edge, painting her insides with his seed.

He slows his hips, the both of them panting softly as they part from each other, Astarion rolling to the side and gently pulling Tav to rest against him.

“We can’t stay out here-“ she starts to protest before he cuts her off.

“It’s only for a moment, darling. Just relax for a moment.” His fingers mindlessly play with the ends of her hair, as she settles against him, and he listens to her heartbeat steady itself.

As she lays against him, beneath the stars, he begins to worry that his initial plan, just may be falling apart.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader smut #astarion x reader fluff #astarion x tav fluff #astarion x tav smut #astarion x tav angst #astarion x reader angst

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taifenggg · 1 year

Text

Lovestruck[Demon Bros]

Things the bros do because they're simps for you.

CW: mild cursing

Characters: GN!Reader(no pronouns specified), Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

Authors Notes: I actually have a huge amount of requests for my other accounts but since I’m impulsive and have no sense of impulse control, I made another writing account for the sole reason that I wanted to ramble about Obey Me LMAOOO

[Dateables Here]

Lucifer [🦚💙]

He listens to you, even when he's busy

“Luciferrr,” you poke your head into his room, after knocking on his door. You stroll in taking in the sight of a somewhat disheveled Lucifer, sitting behind stacks of paperwork. A few buttons at the top of his shirt are undone and his tie is loose around his neck. You resist the urge to stare longer than you need to, turning away and plopping down in one of the armchairs in his room.

“I’m busy.” Although his words are blunt, there’s no actual malice behind them. You take that as a sign that since he didn’t actually tell you to leave that it was okay for you to stay. You lean over the side of your chair, sighing somewhat dramatically. “You’ll never believe what happened earlier.” And soon, you find yourself rambling about your day to Lucifer, speaking whatever comes to your mind. Every time you glance up at Lucifer, it seems as though he’s busy with whatever paperwork he’s subjecting himself to, but you ignore it and continue speaking.

Unbeknownst to you, Lucifer had actually stopped quite a while back ago, he was busy staring at the same line again and again, but somehow he couldn’t find the urge to continue working when all he could focus in on was your voice. His finger tapped absentmindedly at his pen as the edges of his lips quirked up every so slightly finding the way you were sprawled over the chair somewhat amusing.

Mammon [💰💛]

He’ll do something with you, even if he’s inclined not to

“D-do we have to do this?” Mammon’s hand squeezed yours tightly and you could feel how clammy it was against yours. You pouted at him, your lip jutting out, “Mammonnnn come on, can we please go into the haunted house? It’s supposedly much scarier than last years!” Your expression softens as you watch him visibly stiffen at the prospect of going in, “Well on second thought-”

“Nono, lets do it. T-the Great Mammon will protect you from anything that jumps out at us!” He points at himself, puffing his chest out to make himself seem more imposing. You resist the urge to laugh at how goofy he looks despite the fact that he’s clearly scared shitless. “Okay, okay,” you reach over to ruffle his hair, hoping that in doing so could help alleviate some of the nerves he was feeling.

“Oi, what’re you doing?” Mammon’s face flushes, but he doesn’t stop you, and instead leans into your hand more. Giving your hand one more squeeze, he charged towards the haunted house with you in tow. Needless to say the both of you spent the entire time clinging to each other when you're in there.

Leviathan [🐍🧡]

He has a playlist of songs that reminds him of you

“Levi, I just listened to that one artist you recommended to me, and I gotta say, their songs are absolute bangers,” You grin at him, “You have really good music taste!” Leviathan blushes from the compliment, turning to the side, “Well they actually dropped a new song recently, let me share it with you, I have it in my playlist.” He pulled out his D.D.D to open his Devilfy, scrolling through the numerous playlists that he had.

His finger pauses in its scrolling as it hovers over a certain playlist titled, “My Henry.” He glances up at you, feeling himself grow flustered as he quickly looks away once more, typing in the song instead of trying to scroll and find it and sends it to you. “Thanks! I got it!” You beam at him, shooting him a thumbs up from where you’re seated, and putting in your earbuds to stream it.

He’s grateful he made the playlist private, lest he deal with any questions from your end.

Satan [😾💚]

He sees parts of you in characters in his stories

“What do you have there?” you peeked over his shoulder, draping your arms over him. If it were any of his brothers, he would have found himself snapping at them and pushing them away, but since it was you Satan found himself leaning more into you touch. “A book I recently acquired,” he smiled, reaching over to squeeze your hand.

“Mhmm, anything interesting?” You absentmindedly traced the outline of his fingers with yours and Satan swore he could feel his heartbeat going faster. “Well, in a way the main character of this book is kind of like you. They’re kind, and they’re not afraid to stand up for what they believe is right,” He chuckles softly, turning the page with his free hand. You deadpanned, shaking your head, “You’re just describing every generic, heroic main character out there.”

Satan paused, setting his book down slightly as he turned to look at you, a gentle smile on his face. His hand reaches up, brushing your cheek, “I suppose, but they are traits that define you as well.”

Asmodeus [💋🩷]

He’s always seeking to try things with you

“Y/N! There’s this new café that opened up near Ristorante Six, want to come try it with me?” Asmo grabbed your arm, hugging it tight, almost as if he was afraid you would slip away from his grasp. You turned to face him, laughing softly as you transferred his hand into yours. “Didn’t you just go there the other day?” you teased him lightly.

Asmo pouted slightly, holding onto your hand even tighter, “Since the line was so long I didn’t get to try everything that I wanted to because they were limiting the number of items a single customer could order, that’s why I want to bring you with me! Plus it’s super pretty there, pleaseeeee?” You held his gaze, your resolve wavering slightly, you had planned on doing something else but seeing how badly he wanted to go you couldn’t help but relent.

“Alright, alright, of course I’ll go,” you laughed lightly. Asmo’s face lit up upon hearing your answer, tugging you along with him, “Great! I have a few other things planned out, so hopefully you don’t mind if I steal you for a few hours~”

Beelzebub [🍔❤️]

He seeks out your opinion before deciding on anything.

“Bloody Terrine, Deep-Fried Devil Zebra, Devildom Stir-fry with Toxic Chameleon-”

“Beel you’re drooling,” you laugh softly, grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth. He takes it from you, his stomach rumbling from the thought of what he wanted to eat. “Y/N, what should I get?” His eyes focus in on you after a few seconds of staring at the menu. “Huh?” you’re slightly startled from his sudden question. “You should get whatever you’re feeling Beel, I mean you’re the one eating it.”

Beel shook his head, continuing to hold your gaze, “I want to hear your thoughts as well,” a slight flush dusts his face, but it’s barely visible. You smile softly, looking up at the menu, thinking for a second. “Mmmm well you got Bloody Terrine yesterday, and Deep-Fried Devil Zebra a few days before right? Why not get the stir-fry?” Beel takes in your thoughts, thinking on it for a moment before beaming at you, “Okay I’ll do that, thanks Y/N.”

Belphegor [🐮💜]

He prioritizes your comfort over his own

Belphie opened his eyes slowly, a smile finding its way onto his face as he stared at you, asleep next to him. However that smile soon turns into a frown as he studies the way your face is scrunched up, almost as if you were having a bad dream.

Belphie gently untangles himself from you, brushing a hand over the top of your head. Almost immediately, your face relaxes and you let out a puff of air as you slip into a more comfortable slumber. Belphie continues brushing his hand through your hair, carefully so he wouldn’t end up waking you up. Sure he was tired, but he would have rather helped you than just leaving you to fend for yourself when it came to the nightmares that plagued your sleep. His tail curls around your leg comfortingly, holding you in place so that you don’t end up rolling away but at the same time you’re still near him.

Belphie sighs softly as he settles back down next to you, rearranging his limbs so that they weren’t in your way. Although it wasn’t the most comfortable position, it was better than nothing.

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another-lost-mc · 11 months

Note

No-pressure Vampire AU idea: how about the brothers feeding on MC (consensually) a little too enthusiastically that they take longer than usual to wake up from the blood loss, causing the brothers to freak out and panic a little before MC eventually calms them down? You don’t have to write for all the brothers if you don’t want to. Thank you!!

I tried to keep the angst light-ish on this one. It focuses on the dynamics of poly!MC and the vampire brothers instead. All of them make an appearance in this but it's very Mammon/Levi/Asmo-centric.

[Vampire!DEMON BROTHERS x gn!Reader, 2.4k words, nsfw, hurt/comfort. Content warnings: canon-typical vampire behaviour including biting/blood drinking, aftercare (and lack of), pet names, masturbation, poly!MC (they/them pronouns).] ♫ [ song rec: sweet dreams ] | more from the vampire!au

Mammon, Leviathan, and Asmodeus have been in your room since they returned from their trip. The brothers were gone for nearly a week because Diavolo pulled them away from the Devildom metropolis citing official duties that required their presence.

Lucifer was considerate and gave you plenty of advanced notice before their departure. His warning before these trips is a courtesy for his brothers as much as it is for you. You scheduled your daily blood donations accordingly; by the time they were ready to leave, you gave each of the brothers two blood bags to tide them over for the week-long excursion.

The brothers returned two days early, and the first thing they did was bring you home. You stayed at Purgatory Hall while they were gone so you weren't lonely without their company. As soon as they saw you, all the brothers complained you reeked of angels and the soggy old wizard.

Mammon, Levi, and Asmo were quick to claim your attention for themselves, but first you needed to do something about the unwelcome scents of others that lingered on your skin. They waited in your room while you showered in your private bathroom. Even after you scrubbed your skin with the body wash Asmo gave you, they still insisted you smelled funny. You refused to take any more showers after the third one and told them to deal with it.

It'll be impossible for you to smell like anything except for the three brothers now. You had your (last) shower nearly an hour ago, and you've been sitting back-to-chest with Mammon with his arms wrapped around your waist. His chin is hooked over your shoulder while he watches the television screen. Levi sits at your feet and leans back against your legs while you play games together, and Asmo is sprawled on the bed beside you with his head in your lap.

It's cozy and affectionate and warm, but the air grows thick with anticipation when the first signs of bloodlust start to take hold of them. Mammon's nose tickles your neck as he scents you; if he's trying to be sneaky, he's doing a poor job of it. Levi's focus on the game wavers because he glances at you over his shoulder mid-match; he doesn't even flinch when he loses the third game in a row. Asmo's low purr rumbles in his chest as he massages the soft flesh of your thighs.

You tap Levi's shoulder with the gamepad so he can put it back on your desk, and Mammon turns off the TV and tosses the remote aside. Asmo sits up and kneels next to you on the bed. You feel a bit like prey when they all stare at you with unmistakable hunger in their eyes. They appear more monstrous than usual, but there's overwhelming love and adoration in their stares, too—you've never felt anything like it before, and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

Feeding multiple brothers at once doesn't normally take much preparation; they haven't fought about who gets to bite where in a long time. You shimmy closer to the edge of the bed so that Levi has more space to settle between your thighs. Asmo pulls a bottle of nail polish out of his pocket and grins as he reaches for your hand. He kisses each of your fingertips before he starts painting your nails. Mammon takes off his shirt and presses himself against your back again; you melt in his arms so he can support your weight.

You wince Mammon and Levi bite you at the same time, but pleasure seeps into your veins as they start to feed. Warmth and love and desire wash over you, and you close your eyes with a quiet sigh. The world seems to slip away and all you know is them.

Mammon moans into your ear as he drinks. He intersperses greedy pulls of blood with soft kisses against your throat, and his tongue flicks across the punctures he made before he drinks again. His hands slide under your shirt and rest possessively over your belly.

Asmo hums quietly beside you while he paints your nails, and he purses his lips to blow across the wet polish. He's so gentle as he turns your hand over in his, and his fangs drag teasingly across your wrist. He pierces your skin and groans loudly at the first gush of blood across his tongue. He nuzzles affectionately against your palm when you curl your fingers around his cheek.

(When the polish on that hand is dry, he gets off the bed and sits on your other side so he can repeat the process with your other hand.)

Levi is the loudest out of his brothers; you can hear the hungry, wet slurping noises he makes from between your legs. His hands are wrapped around your thighs to steady you, and he tickles your bare skin with his fingers as he feeds. It's not long before you feel the rough sensation of scales against your skin as his tail slides up your calf and wraps around your leg.

You gasp softly when three pairs of fangs finally pull away from your skin. The air reeks of blood and musk from their arousal and your own, but you feel dizzy and all you want to do right now is take a nap. You shake your head when Mammon asks if you want a recovery potion before you rest, and he helps lay you down. He smiles when you fall asleep within moments of resting against the pillow.

The three brothers glance at each other awkwardly and pretend they're not all rock-hard in their pants. They share your blood and your body, but they accept that their carnal desires will have to wait until tomorrow.

Levi scurries away first so he can take care of something in his room. Asmo saunters away towards his own room citing a similar excuse.

Mammon waits until they're both gone before he gets up from the bed carefully; he doesn't want to disturb you. He has a quick shower in your ensuite bathroom and jerks himself off. It doesn't take long for him to come, not with your scent in his nose and warm, sticky blood coating the inside of his mouth. He bites his fist to muffle his shout as he paints the shower tiles with his release.

After his shower, he dries off quickly and throws his sweatpants back on. He settles into the bed next to you, and the mattress dips when his brothers quietly return and tuck themselves into your bed too.

Mammon wakes up early the next morning. You're still asleep and laying on your side facing him. Asmo is plastered against your back, and Levi is curled at your feet with an arm draped over your legs.

Something warm and sticky drips onto Mammon's arm underneath your head, and he flicks your cheek playfully without opening his eyes. "Hey, don'tcha get your drool on me, now," he whispers, but he frowns when he smells the metallic tang of copper in the air. He glances at his arm and realizes it's not drool dripping onto him, but blood.

He's wide-awake in an instant when he realizes you must still be bleeding from the night before. He pulls you into his arms and rolls you onto your back so he can look at you properly. He panics when he realizes the small wounds on your neck from his fangs haven't healed. You're not breathing normally either and fuck, you look awful.

"Babe, wake up," he says, tapping your cheek lightly. You don't respond and he smacks your cheek again, a bit harder. "C'mon, wake up, please."

Asmo stirs behind you and sits up with a yawn, but the sleepy haze in his eyes fades quickly when he sees the horrified look on Mammon's face. "What's going on?"

"I don't know, they won’t wake up.” Mammon replies shakily. "Yo, Levi!"

Levi jerks at the foot of the bed and looks around bleary-eyed at the frantic shout of his name. "Huh?" he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes.

Asmo leans over you and inspects the open wound on your neck, and his breath hitches when he realizes that your wrists don't look any better. "You need to check your bite," Asmo tells Levi, and the room grows thick with tension as all three brothers realize there's something very wrong.

Levi scrambles into action at the tone in his brother's voice, and he tugs the blankets down so he can inspect your thigh. He panics when he sees it's barely healed at all. "I—I don't understand, it's never like this afterwards." He wipes away the thin trail of blood oozing from one of the puncture wounds, but it stays dry for only a few moments before it starts bleeding again.

Mammon glances at his brothers worriedly. "They didn't drink any potions after we finished. I figured they drank some in the other room after they showered."

It wasn't unusual for you to drink a recovery potion to prepare for a heavy feeding session. Their mistake was assuming you did—no one saw you drink anything before or after they fed from you. If you were too tired after, one of them would've helped you.

Why the hell did none of them think to ask?

Why didn't they insist you drink one even after you refused?

Asmo slides off the bed and digs around in your nightstand where you keep your recovery kit, but it's empty. "Damn it," Asmo curses under his breath. "I'll go get some. Keep trying to wake them up," he tells Mammon hurriedly as he rushes from the room.

Mammon maneuvers you carefully and props you up in a pile of pillows against the headboard. Your nightstand is lacking recovery potions, but you have plenty of bandages in your private bathroom. He cleans the skin around your bite marks and covers them with gauze, and he bites his lip to keep it from quivering. He takes care of the wounds on your neck and wrists while Levi tends to the bite on your leg. They work together in strained silence.

You start to regain consciousness as they're tidying up the ripped bandage wrappers and bloody towels. Levi will swear later on that he and Mammon were both crying tears of relief. He covers his red, tear-stained face with his arm and sniffles pitifully; he's just glad you're okay.

You're woozy from blood loss and your speech is a bit slurred, but you try to answer Mammon's questions as best you can. You're not in pain exactly, but you're still tired and light-headed.

Levi paces nervously at the foot of your bed while Mammon sits beside you and holds your hand. He hates how sickly you look and how weak your hand feels in his. Guilt swirls in the pit of his stomach because he knows it's their fault.

Mammon finally hears footsteps rush down the hallway outside your room, and it sounds like Asmo brought company. There's a sharp intake of breath when the door opens. Lucifer steps inside first and Asmo follows behind him. The other siblings give them space and linger in the doorway.

Mammon's not sure what's scarier right now: Lucifer's icy glare of disappointment, Satan's scowl of barely-contained rage, or Beel and Belphie's muttered threats that promise excruciating pain. Mammon waves Asmo over to the bed—he'll deal with his brothers later, after you're taken care of.

Asmo sits on the edge of the bed and uncorks a small bottle that he tips into your mouth. "I'm glad you're awake," he whispers tearfully. "I'm so sorry." He wipes away a trickle of the clear fluid that dribbles down your chin before he leans forward and hugs you. You attempt to smile at him reassuringly, but it looks more like a grimace.

Lucifer glances between each of his brothers who squirm under his scrutiny, but his gaze lingers on you the longest. He's never seen you look so worn out, and he's seething inside that his brothers' neglect did this to you.

Asmo explained what happened after he nearly collided with Lucifer in the hallway earlier: you didn't drink any recovery potions before or after their feeding, and they didn't check on you properly during the night. Lucifer knows you'll try and blame yourself for this, but responsibility for your care ultimately falls to them. Perhaps you should know better, but they should too.

It doesn't take long for the potion to take effect. Your eyes are already a bit brighter and more focused, and you start to look a little embarrassed about what's happened.

Lucifer plans to come back later and help care for you personally, but first he needs to have words with his brothers. "I'd like to see the three of you in the dining room. Your brothers can take care of things here," he tells the trio hovering near your bed. "In the meantime, the next seven days will be dry for everyone."

The week-long ban that prevents you from feeding them in any way—directly or through blood donation—is met with mixed reactions. Lucifer and Satan look a little smug since they rationed your blood bags from the trip and still have some left over; Mammon, Levi, Asmo, and Belphie have nothing left of theirs; and Beel looks the most horrified since he consumed both of your blood bags before he even left the city nearly a week ago.

"Are—are you sure that's necessary?" you ask weakly as you try to sit up straighter in bed. Mammon tries to push you back against the pillows and urges you to relax. "It was an accident, I don't blame them at all."

Lucifer's eyes soften when he looks at you, because you always put their needs and desires above your own well-being—but today, he won't allow it. His brothers skitter away from the bed as he steps forward, and he strokes your cheek gently with the back of his gloved fingers.

"Your presence is a gift to us, and sometimes we all need to be reminded not to take you for granted." He wishes he could bend down and kiss the pout away from your lips, but the others are hovering nearby; he offers you a small, private smile instead.

"Take this time to rest and focus on regaining your strength," he suggests. His fangs peek out behind his lip when his smile sharpens. He leans down close to your ear and whispers darkly and full of promise, "You'll need it."

Taglist: @l-d-8 @mithrakira @your-next-daydream @haezen @xpixie @lemonivall @meggsngrits @flemmingbamse @tortibomb @amberrskiies @angelsdilf @rensphilia @4allthefours4 @lust--on--my--lips @beelsjuicytitties @goldenglow149 @callmesaya @cosmicstarlatte

Join the taglist here.

#obey me vampire au #obey me demon brothers #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #asmodeus x reader #mammon smut #obey me smut #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #obey me hurt/comfort #x reader #gn!reader

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arthenaa · 5 months

Text

blurred lines — mizu x f!reader

synopsis: your relationship with your roommate often threads the lines between friends and of something more.

content: fluff, suggestive themes, modern! au, roommate!mizu one jumping off a cliff joke mentioned, taigen, ringo, and akemi being great friends, mizu uses she/her pronouns, she/her pronouns for reader as well, mizu and you call each other bon/bonnie as an endearment, mizu is ur bf but not rlly your bf yk, mutual pining

song will be later mentioned in the story but listen to it while you're reading <3

It isn't to anyone's surprise that more often than not, people mistake you and Mizu as a couple. It's gotten bad to the point that it's already counted as an inside joke in your little group of five.

Taigen was the main culprit of the joke (as usual). He often lets his tongue run loose in the most random of situations. Whatever piques his interest, he always has something to say about it. You're not sure if it's because of Taigen's natural person magnet trait but surely, you think this is somehow his fault.

"I just want to say how adorable of a couple you two are!" A person from your year—someone you had met in passing during your Ethics class for sure—gushed as she sat down on the empty seat in front of you. You stare at her, mouth slightly agape in shock at the sudden intrusion, Akemi chortles from her seat while Mizu's starting to look like she's about to commit homicide. It was currently your free period, hoping for a time to relax and wait for your next class, you sure weren't expecting to be bombarded by a series of questions about your love life. You're hoping that both of your unwelcomed stares would drive this person away, but the gal continues off on a tangent. "Not to be like—a real gossipy person, but like, I heard from Sanchez that you guys were dating, and I had my suspicions back then during Ethics class but I just HAD to confirm it, y'know?"

You lock eyes with Akemi seated beside the girl as she hides her grin behind her drink. You're so going to wipe that smile off her face soon.

"I'm pretty sure that's none of your business," Mizu deadpans as she stares at her under her tinted glasses. She taps her index finger on the surface of the table, a telltale sign of her impatience. The girl remains oblivious.

"Oh, come on! We were groupmates last semester! I'm pretty sure we're already close enough to know stuff like this," She sends the both of you a wink to which you wince as Mizu stiffens beside you. You're sure it was taking a real toll on her to prevent her from committing a felony and so you've decided to step up.

"I-I'm sorry," You give her a sheepish smile, hand raised to provide a calm reassurance of not being hostile. "I'm sure you mean well and everything but we're really tired. Whatever you're thinking, it's a no."

You give her your best award-winning smile with the hopes that she'll leave you both alone. You see her slightly pull back, finally reading the room but she pauses at the last second as Mizu wraps an arm around your waist. You're not sure why the girl gives you a cheeky grin as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder but your resolve is soon starting to waver if she doesn't get her ass off your table.

"Alright, whatever you say," She coos, eyes squinting playfully as she gathers herself off your booth. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. See you around!"

The three of you watch as she makes her way out of the shop before your shoulders release the tension you've both been holding over the past few minutes. Akemi chuckles at your expressions

"Oh my god, If you hadn't done that I would've gone off the rails," Mizu groans as she rests her head on the table.

"You should've, to be honest, might make this whole debacle a lot more interesting than whatever you have with Y/N," Akemi snickers from her seat as Mizu sends her a glare. "Funniest thing I've seen all semester. Keep it up."

"You're full of shit," Mizu grumbles from her seat. Akemi flashes her her middle finger. You roll your eyes at their banter.

"I don't get what's the big deal," You cross your arms over your chest. "I mean people do the things me and Mizu do all the time."

Akemi gives you a blank stare. "I mean this in the best possible way but if I didn't love you and you said that to me, I would actually slap your face."

"I can slap your face for free, right now."

"Not now, Mizu," You nudged her knee in retaliation as the blue-eyed girl grumbled in response. "Also, bullshit. That's unfair."

Akemi rolls her eyes before slamming her drink down on the table. "That's unfair? You two are basically me and Taigen if Taigen grew the balls to actually court me instead of parading his biceps like a damn himbo. That honestly felt like I'd lost 20 years of my life. She's at your beck and call and even fucking ditches our hangouts just because you had a little cold. That's what's unfair."

You stare at her with furrowed eyebrows as she huffs and takes an angry sip of her drink. You slowly nod, trying to get a sense of her reasoning. Well, you and Mizu had developed a natural sense of service-giving to each other. After all, your deep friendship was only a resort of living together. Wouldn't anyone be that considerate to their best friends?

"I swear to God," Akemi places a hand in front of her mouth as she looks between the two of you. Mizu had already tuned her out, opting to hug you close by the waist and leaning her head on your shoulder as she took the time to rest. "I'm so close to throwing myself off the cliff figuratively and it's both of your fault."

You roll your eyes at her, crumpling a tissue paper before throwing it towards her. The gal dodges it with ease before scrunching her nose.

"You're overreacting."

"Sure," Akemi squints her eyes. "Whatever fits your story."

You're not sure when it started but somehow Akemi's words started to get to you. You knew, for sure, (you think?) that she was just bluffing. Your relationship with Mizu was yours and yours alone, anything between the two of you must be kept between the two of you only. It wasn't as if the comments of other people had affected you—you often tend to brush them off, treating some of them as either praises of your close bond or jokes due to their easygoing nature. You're not sure if it's because of Akemi's short-tempered personality that you've started to notice things too.

"Here," Mizu's voice startles you out of your focus. You turn your head to see the raven-haired gal, hair down and cozy in a black hoodie and sweatpants. You had been studying and getting things done at your uni's library as finals were nearing. The desk at your dorm and the familiarity of your room seemed to mess up with your productivity and so you decided to change venues. Mizu, being the good-hearted angel that she is, drops a cup of coffee beside you and a bag of your favorite food. She then tucks her hands into the pockets of her hoodie.

You look up at her with a pout, eyes softened. "You didn't have to."

Mizu pats your head before gingerly pulling the seat next to you. She sits down and leans her head on her arm perched on the table. "It's the least I could do. You're working hard."

You smile at her praise, glancing at the worksheets sprawled on your table. It wouldn't hurt to take a break, no?

Mizu gives you a raise of an eyebrow as you turn your body towards her, copying her form. Your lips pull into a small smile as you reach out to brush her loose locks. "It's way past your curfew. You should've just slept."

Mizu snorts. "You say that like I'm a child."

You reach out to pinch her cheek causing her to swat your hand away. Letting out a few giggles as she scrunches her nose at you. You would've continued to act normal afterward, there was nothing to freak out over but then Mizu started staring at you with that gaze of hers. Usually, you would either jokingly stare back or playfully ignore her but somehow this time, you're suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. You let out a cough as you turn back toward your worksheets, unable to handle the intensity of her gaze.

Not sure if she noticed it or what, you make quick haste to get back on track with your studying. About 15 minutes in, you hear shifting beside you. Thinking that it's her cue to go, you turn toward her with curiosity but then your chair moves swiftly to her side. You let out a yelp as she moves your chair with one arm, closer toward her.

"Mizu—!" You squeak at the sudden movement as she lets out a few chuckles at your reaction. Soon enough, a deep flush bursts across your cheeks due to the sudden proximity. She's faced toward you, legs spread to accommodate your figure, and her other arm perched on the back of your chair.

You feel your heart speed up as she leans close and smiles. "Get back to studying, Bonnie."

You obediently follow her orders as you lower your head to get back to answering the worksheets in front of you. You hear Mizu chuckle beside you as you willed yourself to continue writing and ignore her very existence.

Heart? Speed up? What the fuck?

There's a moment of reprieve before you feel the sudden thump of Mizu's head against your shoulder.

"What's up?" You hum gingerly, your free hand moving up to gently pet her head. Mizu shifts her body close, the arm at the back of your chair pulling your shoulder and body to her.

"Do you want Italian or Chinese?" She asks out of the blue, eyes watching you write down equations and numerical formulas on your paper. Your heart softens as you feel her other hand envelope over your stomach, pulling you into a side hug.

There weren't many people around the library at this time of the night besides the occasional suffering computer science major seated at the far end of the library and the librarian herself. Mizu allows herself to be vulnerable within your care. You eye your worksheets, debating finishing them or giving your cute roommate dozing off on your shoulder attention.

Nah, fuck it.

You gently close your notes before cupping Mizu's cheek, softly pulling her up from your shoulder.

"Hm?" Mizu hums as she slowly blinks at you, face leaning towards your touch as you cup her face gingerly within your palms. You give her a soft smile, thumbs running softly across her cheeks.

"Ordering takeout might be a bit too much right now," You quietly whisper to her, eyes crinkling playfully. She lets out a few chuckles at your response. "Although, I recall having a waffle mixture back at our dorm and we still have your dad's waffle maker. What do you say?"

Her gaze darts over you face before she pulls away from your touch. You look at her curious as she scoots to the edge of her seat before pulling you into a hug. The raven-haired girl burrows her face on your neck, letting a loud sigh of relief as she encased you in her arms.

"Alright," She mumbles on the collar of your shirt, breath tickling your neck. You flush at her proximity, opting to rest your head gently against hers. Just as the two of you would continue to bask in each other's presence, a cough alerts the two of you to pull away.

Your eyes dart toward the culprit as the librarian raises her eyebrow toward the both of you.

"You can take your couple date elsewhere if you both have nothing better to do here." The old lady deadpans, fanning herself with her foldable fan. The both of you stare as she gives you one last judgmental look before walking away. Mizu wordlessly helps you pack up your stuff, leaving the library with you trailing behind with your ears flushed red.

"Listen," Taigen takes a deep breath before continuing. "We're only choosing your dorm because Akemi has their annual dorm parties, Our kitchen broke so Ringo can't cook, and we know Mizu is a loaded motherfucker, alright? It's absolutely not because we want to see your icky mundane domestic life."

Mizu leans against the doorframe, staring Taigen down as he finishes his piece. You, on the other hand, can only smile from your spot behind Mizu. It had been your scheduled movie night with friends and originally, it was Ringo and Taigen's turn to host but due to unfortunate circumstances, the duty of hosting befell on your shoulders again. Albeit, a bit rushed this time.

Akemi rolls her eyes beside Taigen before stepping up towards the doorway and pushing her way through Mizu's defense (Mizu let her in, she didn't do anything wrong). Ringo smiles gleefully from his spot beside Taigen before sliding his way inside and pulling you in a hug (again, Mizu let him in, he's the only person who can actually cook).

"Y/N!" Your tall bubbly-bear looking friend cheers as he swings you back and forth in his hug. You giggle as you return the gesture, slightly pulling away and patting his cheeks. Ringo grins. "I missed you!"

You playfully roll your eyes at him. "Oh come on Ringo, I saw you last week."

"Too long!" Ringo whines as he rests his head on top of yours. Your heart warms at Ringo's affections. Your dear friend was a walking talking incarnation of a life-sized teddy bear. The two of you continue to giggle at each other's presence, not noticing the pair of blue eyes trained on you.

"Oi, Ring," Mizu calls out from her position by the doorway, eyes pulled into a glare. Ringo stiffens beside you at her tone. You could only blink your eyes at her with a curious gaze. "Get your ass in the kitchen."

"On it!" Ringo makes no haste and eventually bolts to your dorm's kitchen. You place your hand on your hips as you stare at her with a raised eyebrow. Mizu only looks away before catching a sneaking Taigen trying to move his way inside. The raven-haired girl slams her hand on the doorframe preventing Taigen from entering.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mizu asks with a threatening glare. Her eyes squint as you watch Taigen sweatdrop.

"C'mon, man! I just want to fucking watch Ryan Gosling, can you let me in?!" Taigen whines, stomping his foot. Mizu's face stays blank, hand clutching the doorframe. Taigen resorts to plan B and looks up at you from his spot with the most disturbing try of puppy eyes. "Y/N, please I'll treat you all the fucking bobas you want just please pull your war freak of a wife away from me."

You chuckle as he clasps his hands together, ignoring Mizu's pointed glare. You knew that Mizu would let him in either way. After all Mizu says, and you quote, "It's like leaving a fucking dog outside with all that yapping."

Finally deciding to help Taigen, your eyes gaze at Mizu's back with a smile. "Bon, c'mon leave him be."

There's a pause of silence before Mizu eases up on the doorway and eventually side steps. Taigen lets out a noise of victory before making quick steps toward you and places a kiss on the side of your temple.

"This is why you're my favorite," Taigen crinkles his eyes playfully. You roll your eyes, slapping his arm.

"You said that to Akemi 3 days ago."

"The past is past, what matters is the pre—"

A loud smack on the head propels Taigen forward causing your eyes to widen. You turn to Mizu who looks at him with disgust.

"I let you in and you still yap like a dog. Do you want me to kick you out again?" Mizu stands next to you with a menacing glare. You watch in amusement as Taigen frowns, rubbing the back of his head.

"Goddamn, just fucking marry this emotionally constipated motherfucker please so that I may find peace," Taigen makes a pointed look towards you. "I hate that I'm always at the receiving end of your punches when Y/N doesn't give you a bit of her atten—AGH!"

You let out a few giggles as you watched Mizu try and kick him away from where the two of you were standing. The poor man cowers behind Akemi who elbows him off her figure as she tries to browse through you and Mizu's shared Netflix account.

Your eyes glance toward Mizu who grumbles under her breath before turning towards you.

"Never let him in our dorm ever again please." Mizu deadpans prompting soft laughs from your lips. You then watch as Mizu walks toward you, eyes squinting at the side of your temple before grabbing your face with one hand—cheeks smushed.

"Mijuuuu," You whine as she tilts your head to the side. You notice her gaze on where Taigen kissed you. Your eyebrows furrowed as Mizu reached you with the sleeve of her hoodie pulled over her fingers. She then makes harsh wiping movements on your temple causing you to groan.

"Ow." You sob playfully as she finishes her ministrations. Mizu then turns your head towards her, the corners of her lips slightly upturned as she squishes your face within her grasp.

"Cute." She mumbles before leaning down to place a chaste kiss on your forehead. Your heart thumps against your chest—eyes wide as a deep flush rises to your ears. Whether Mizu noticed it or not, she only pulled away and walked over to where Akemi and Taigen were—both too busy fighting each other for the remote (Akemi wants horror but Taigen insists on a Ryan Gosling marathon).

You stand still in the hallway, breath hitching as you try to calm yourself down.

Unfair.

There's a nagging thought at the back of your head that you think that you might've been a little bit too lenient with Mizu.

Your friendship and current situation as roommates didn't start off in a good footing. Having met Ringo and Mizu during freshman orientation, you had no choice but to stick close to them due to the unfamiliar environment. Ringo welcomed you with open arms while Mizu didn't care if you joined or not. Apparently, she didn't really care about Ringo or you.

It was safe to say that your first impression of your roommate with her ever-perpetual stone-cold glare had not been the best. After all, she had ignored you most of the time and tended to stray away from your group of three.

It was during that time that she had issues with her current roommate who always tried to bring people in as a one-night stand that the two of you decided on common ground.

You were out that night, going on a quick walk break from midterms when you saw Mizu complaining at the front desk. Still considering her your friend albeit a bit hesitant due to her off-putting nature, you hear Mizu complain to the landlord. You overheard her issues with her roommate and decided to offer your space up as your previous roommate had shifted courses, was transferred to a farther building, and therefore had to move to a closer dormitory. She seemed awkward but grateful enough to accept your offer.

Then things are where they are now. After knowing and living with each other for at least 2 years now, your closeness with Mizu didn't really bother you. It was nice being comfortable enough to just be authentic in front of somebody without the fear of getting judged. Mizu tends to be quite direct with her words and doesn't like to bluff around. That's what you kind of love and hate about her.

Love because she's upfront—what you see is what you get. She gives you thoughtful advice, the most rational between the two of you, mature and level headed enough to tell you the truth when nobody else would. Hate because sometimes she's too direct. Direct about your mistakes and wrongdoings but also direct about what she feels.

Like this instance.

"Mizu?" Your feet cladded socks thump loudly against the wooden floor, waddling your way toward your roommate who is busy mopping the living room.

"Yeah?" She calls out, hair tied in her usual bun as she continues to clean. She hears you enter the area, turning towards you with her hand outstretched. "Careful. Floor's wet."

"Yeah, yeah." You grab her hand, watching as she puts the mop away to the side. Finally having her undivided attention, you swing your hands back and forth as you come to say what you went for in the first place. "So y'know how Akemi got her internship at that company she really worked hard for?"

"Mmh."

"Then she was offered like a position right?"

"Mmh."

"So like, as a reward for her great performance, she got tickets for us to watch Laufey next week."

Mizu's eyebrows raised in recognition. "Really?"

You nod your head with enthusiasm, smile brimming from ear to ear. Mizu's eyes softened as she lets you continue.

"So I was wondering," You bite your bottom lip as your hand shifts to wrap around her index finger—still swaying it back and forth. "Can you help me find an outfit, please?"

Mizu hums as you peer at her with an excited grin. The raven-haired woman glances at her unfinished work before sighing.

"I suppose cleaning can wait." She responds before getting pulled in a hug.

"Thank you! Thank you!" You make careful tiptoes around her work as you walk back to your room.

It takes Mizu about 7 minutes to finally reach your room with a soft knock on your door. You tell her to come in as she gently opens the door to walk inside.

"Options?" Mizu sighs in relief as she plops down on the bed. You tell her your options and Mizu nods for you to try them on.

It takes a while for both of you to decide—eventually having to stick with two dresses. Finally trying the last dress on, you twirl in front of the mirror, examining the way you look before meeting Mizu's eyes on the reflection.

"That's the one," Mizu says with a soft tone. There's something about the way she eyes you up and down with a gentle look in her eyes paired with the soft tone of her deep voice. You pause, turning around to see her on the edge of your bed, arms resting on her knees—hands interlocked with her body leaned forward. Those hues of blue peer up at you with half-lidded eyes. Your cheeks heat up.

She breathes a heavy breath before motioning for you to come over with a come hither motion of her fingers. "C'mere."

You make slow steps toward her form, a couple of inches away from each other. You look down at her as she eyes you up, an unreadable look on her face before she suddenly stands up from her seat. Suddenly you're reminded of Mizu's height, albeit only a couple of inches taller than you, you still had to crane your neck at a distance as close as you were now. Suddenly the air seemed thick and constricting.

There's a sudden tension filling the air as the two of you only look into each other's eyes. You find yourself unable to blink as you admire her features. A mix of handsome and pretty—a face you've seen countless times and yet still be in awe of.

Just as the moment had started, Mizu suddenly ends it with a flick on your forehead causing you to blink.

"Hey!" You whine at the sudden gesture, hands reaching up to touch the spot she flicked at. Mizu smirks, chuckling.

"You blinked, I won."

You scoff at her. "Unfair."

She then fixes the fabric of your dress, making sure that the pleats and the flow is positioned nicely. Then the next few words stun you.

"You look really beautiful, Y/N." She says with such a genuine tone that it leaves you speechless. Seeing your reaction she lets out a few laughs then pinches your cheek. You let out a chuckle at the sound of her laughter.

"Favorite Laufey song?" You tilt your head in curiosity as you look up at her with a smile. Mizu softly blinks with a gentle smile.

"Serendipity."

Your hands slam against the wooden surface of the desk inside the library's discussion room. Three pairs of eyes—one filled with curiosity, one with indifference, and one with annoyance. You breathe heavily as you lock eyes with each one.

"I think I like Mizu."

Suddenly Taigen stands up from his seat and applauds you—Ringo, ever the sweetheart he is, smiles at you and waves his arms for a little celebration dance.

"Congratulations, Sherlock," Taigen smiles sarcastically. "If I had to watch the two of you in an eternal battle of who's the most oblivious, I would already have a degree in Bachelor of No Communication, Major in being a pussy and a minor in having mommy issues."

Akemi gives him a disgusted glare. "Can you shut the fuck up or is being a yapper your honest profession?"

"Alright," Taigen raises his hands. "Chill."

Akemi rolls her eyes before looking at you with her lips upturned. "Happy that you're finally realizing it, hun."

You groan as run your palms over your face. "That's the problem!"

"Why's that a problem?" Ringo asks innocently. You pull yours hands down with a huff.

"It's Mizu."

"So?" Akemi raises an eyebrow.

"Mizu's my best friend," You whine. "I can't risk it when I don't know if she feels the same."

"Be fucking for real right now." Akemi deadpans as she crosses her arms over her chest. "The damn woman looks at you as if you've just given her the stars and the moon. Y'know know how much I envy that?"

Taigen nudges Akemi beside him with a pout. Akemi glances at him with a sigh. "I was just making a point. You'd have to be dumb stupid to not notice anything at all, Y/N."

You purse your lips as you sheepishly look at Akemi like a child being punished.

"You did, didn't you?" Akemi squints her eyes with a smile. "Precisely why I favor you over that emotional catastrophe of a woman. I suggest taking the chance. It's not every day that you find someone that's a complete fit for you."

Akemi gives you a soft smile. You purse your lips as Taigen gives you a thumbs up.

"You can do it, Y/N." Ringo smiles at you from his seat. "If there's anything I know about Mizu, it's that she cares for you a lot more than you think."

You nod, encouraged by your friends' advice and reassurance. While Mizu's someone you didn't want to lose, you'd rather take the risk on giving her the love she deserves rather than keeping it buried within you.

Finally, your resolve is built and strengthened. It's just Mizu, it should be alright.

To put things simply, it had been 3 weeks since your talk with Taigen, Akemi, and Ringo.

The three have tried their very best to allow you to confess but somehow Mizu always has something to do or something keeps ruining the moment. Confessing in a cafe? Suddenly a random NPC interrupts. In the library? Librarian follows you everywhere with that judgmental gaze of hers after your previous altercation. Campus garden? Mizu's getting called for org duties. Your own dorm? Mizu's asleep.

You're at your wit's ends and while you can tell that all of this isnt intentionally done, you can still feel the frustration.

It's this night where you reach your final straw.

You had just gotten home after a day of requirements, finals, and activities. Mizu's schedule was moved a bit earlier causing the two of you to be quite busy due to the gap in the dates for your finals. When you're free, Mizu's taking an exam. When Mizu's got nothing to do, you're working your ass off in the library.

The finals season has completely ended and you're walking home with a fleeting mind and relieved sigh.

As you make the turn toward your dormitory, you notice a familiar head of black crouched over the sidewalk. Your eyebrows furrowed as you see Mizu busy with whatever caught her attention. Just as you reach at least a meter away from her, you see a fluffy white cat perk its head behind Mizu's figure, blue eyes sparkling with curiosity as it mews at your figure.

"Huh?" You hear Mizu hum before turning to face you. A look recognition passes her eyes. "Oh. You're home."

You fall silent as you continue to watch her pet the cat. You hear its purrs as it leans its head to Mizu's touch.

"I cooked hotpot upstairs," Mizu says, eyes still looking at you. Her hair is down, only pinned back by her glasses worn over her head. That little frail bang escapes with ease from it as she looks down to see the cat on its back, paws demanding a belly rub. She's wearing the black sweater you gave her with its sleeves rolled up to her arms.

Fuck. Why does she look so—

"I can tell you're spent," Mizu softly smiles at you. There's a slight breeze that gently ruffles her hair. "You did so well, Bonnie."

Then it's as if something snapped within you and there's nothing that could stop you from unleashing the pent up frustration of not getting a moment with her.

"Oh my god," Your gaze is unwavering as you stare at her figure. She raises an eyebrow at your response. "I'm so fucking in love with you."

Mizu stops her ministrations with the cat, figure tensing as the light breeze of the wind fills in the void. Your heart thumps as you breathe heavily, watching any sort of reaction for her shocked face.

Then it is as if you could hear a pin drop then a change in the atmosphere. Mizu is flushed deep red, eyes blinking as she stares at you with mouth agape.

Your eyebrows raise in amusement.

"Huh?"

"I love you." You repeat taking a step closer to her crouched form. She furrows her eyebrows, blush spreading up to her ears. Oh?

"I-I don't—"

You grin as you crouch in front of her, eyes trained on her shy features. "I said I love you."

"Y/N." Mizu grumbles as she tries to glare at you.

"What?" You shrug, smile brimming from ear to ear. The emotions on her face are clear as she stammers and stutters in front of you.

"That's not fair." She grits her teeth.

"What's not fair?" You tilt your head in amusement.

"I wanted to say it first." She mumbles as she looks down at the cat purring between the two of you.

You let out a soft laugh at her whining.

"Well, I'll pretend I didn't say anything and that I just walked back from school," Mizu eyes you in confusion as you stand back up and run a few meters away from her—back from where you previously stood. You clear your throat as you straightened yourself up. "Oh my god! Finals is so hard, if only there's a hot tall masculine woman to declare their love for me."

You end with a dramatic touch of the back of your hand against your forehead. Mizu chuckles, shaking her head before standing to her full height. She reaches you with ease, lips turned to a smile as her hands make their way to cup your face.

"You're an idiot," She grumbles with affection before pulling you in a kiss. There's no time wasted as you kiss back, clutching the fabric of her sweater as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss.

You squeak as you feel her tongue intertwine with yours. You feel yourself get lightheaded, melting in her touch as your arms wrap around her neck while hers takes hold of your waist. She pulls you closer with no distance left to break you apart. You whine as you feel her bite on your bottom lip, gently pulling it before pulling away. Heavy breaths are what fills the space between your bodies, eyes still trained on swollen red lips while want and need courses through your veins.

She lets out a grunt as she dives to taste more of you, pecking your lips once, twice—thrice before finally breaking off.

There's a moment of silence before hushed giggles errupted between the two of you—Mizu swaying your bodies as you both bask in each other's presence.

Hushed whispers, sweet nothings, wide smiles, and stolen kisses are all that's seen between two idiots in love. Before you can further enjoy your moment with Mizu, a loud meow interrupts your moment. The two of you look down at the cat licking its paw as it stares up at you both.

It swishes its tail back and forth, tilting its head before stretching. You and Mizu look at each other with a smile.

"You up for another roommate? Might be severely in love with you too." You tease as the cat leans its body against Mizu. Your girlfriend rolls her eyes. You giggle.

"Oh, shut up."

a/n:

you: *sees mizu w a cat* marry me

mizu: ?

projecting ken tendencies in taigen mb. akemi is a mood tbh.

#arthenaa #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #the blue eyed samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #Spotify

1K notes · View notes

training4theapocalypse · 6 months

Text

Tiny Stitches (Adrian Chase x gn!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT, Graphic injury detail, Handjob

Summary: Your Halloween plans are cancelled last minute. You’re ready for a night alone eating Halloween candy until Vigilante comes to your door needing stitched up.

A/N: Based on this ask by @impossibleheartflower - thank you! No pronouns are used but the reader is wearing a slutty nurse outfit. It’s pretty nondescript (e.g. no specific mention of skirt or pants) so the slutty nurse outfit can be whatever you want it to be. Maybe the real slutty nurse outfit is the friends we made along the way.

Masterlist

Chapter text

You dip your hand in your bubble bath to test the temperature - it’s not exactly going to make up for the fact that your Halloween date flaked at the last second but you know you’ll feel better when you take off this ridiculous costume and sink into the bubbles.

You hear a distant knock from your front door and turn off the tap.

It’s sort of late for trick-or-treaters. Right? Maybe your apartment is the last stop for the kids who live in your building. You don’t want to end up on a register somewhere so you pull on a robe over your sexy nurse costume.

“Coming!” You rush out of the bathroom to unchain your front door.

You let out a gasp of shock when you open it. Thud. A man’s body falls backwards into your apartment.

“What the fuck?!”

Is he… dead?

Dread fills you as your eyes ping over every part of his figure, looking for signs of life. But it’s hard to tell when he’s dressed in a black and teal Halloween costume with his face completely concealed by a mask.

Almost completely.

His eyes are just visible behind the red visor on his mask. He blinks up at you. He blinks. He’s alive.

The man dressed up as the masked Vigilante of Evergreen groans. “It’s me... Sorry.”

That voice is familiar. “Who- ?”

Vigilante stares up at you standing over him. He knows he’s got more pressing matters to worry about than being offended that you don’t recognise his voice but he can’t help it. He’d know your voice anywhere. Hell, he even recognises the way your keys jingle in the hallway when you get home from work.

“I’m your neighbour… from across the hall.” He clutches his side with one hand so he can rip off his mask with the other.

Oh.

‘Hot guy’ is the stupid thought that pops into your head when you stare at his upside-down face lying across your doorway. You realise who he is now after all, under his Halloween costume, with his dark, curly hair and sharp jaw - all that’s missing is his glasses. You’re not even sure of his name - you’ve been so used to referring to him as ‘Hot Guy Across The Hall’ in your friends’ group chat for months that you’re more accustomed to calling him that in your head.

‘Hot Guy Across The Hall took a package in for me today.’

‘I bet you’d like to take a package from Hot Guy Across The Hall.’

You snap out of it when you see a trickle of blood drip onto your floor. You look at the gloved hand clutching his side - he’s holding a wound on his abdomen. A dark puddle of blood leaks through the fabric, staining the white parts of his gloves crimson. A new terror sets in as you realise he’s been attacked.

“Please, I need a nurse.”

“This…” You look down at your red and white polyester outfit and the plastic stethoscope around your neck that’s visible underneath your open robe. “This is a Halloween costume.”

“I know that. I’ve seen you in scrubs.”

“I’m a vet.”

“Uh, thank you for your service?”

“A veterinarian.” You stick your head out the door and look up and down the hallway, worried about anyone stumbling upon the bloody scene. “Get in here.” You slip off your robe so you can move freely, then bend down and drag Hot Guy Across The Hall by his underarms into your apartment, sliding him across your wooden floor and shutting the door behind him. Fuck, he's heavier than he looks.

Shit, what was his name?

“Aidan, right?”

“Close enough.” He groans, staring up at your ceiling.

“Can you get up if I help you?”

“Mhm,” he winces in affirmation and you bend down to put his arm around his shoulder. He inhales sharply, holding onto his side as you help him across your small apartment into your bedroom. You’re glad your apartment is clean. Not that you’d admit out loud that you’d tidied it specifically just in case your date had gone well tonight.

You help him onto your fresh bedspread. The blood is definitely going to stain your new sheets. Perfect.

“Okay, let’s see what we’re dealing with,” you say, tossing the plastic stethoscope aside and sitting beside him on the edge of the bed so you can assess the wound. “Wait, is your costume a onesie?”

“No,” he groans. “I just need to take off the belt-” He swears when he removes his hand from his side to unfasten his gunbelt. A jolt of adrenaline courses through you when you realise that attached to him are real guns.

“Okay, let me do that. You just keep applying pressure.” You firmly move his hands from his belt to his wound. The sound of metal on metal clicks in your silent bedroom when you gently unthread the belt from the loops. “There we go, you’re doing great,” you soothe as you place the belt and his gun on the floor and roll up the top half of his suit. Your fingers tremble slightly when you realise the fabric under them isn’t cheap polyester. It’s thick. Lined with what you expect is Kevlar. This is no bargain bin Halloween costume.

Oh shit.

There’s a long but shallow knife wound running down his ribs. It doesn’t look like there’s any damage to his vital organs. But it’s gruesome. “I’ll get my car keys - I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“Wait!” He tries to sit up but yelps in pain and lies back again.

“Please, I can’t go there… Too many questions.”

It confirms your suspicions.

“You’re not dressed up for Halloween.” It’s not a question but you look up to see his response all the same. You’ve been so focused on his injury that you haven’t noticed the way his green eyes have been searching your face. He slowly shakes his head and looks at you beseechingly. Ugh. You can’t say no to those pretty eyes. It’s why you ended up becoming a vet - you just can’t resist the stupid, puppy-dog eyes.

“I don’t have any anaesthetic. This is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Thanks.”

“Keep that sentiment in mind when you’re screaming in a second.”

You leave him and boil some water while you busy yourself finding your medical supplies and a bottle of vodka. You set up your things on the bedside table while you sit on a throw pillow on the floor next to the bed.

“God, this is always the worst bit.” He says, squinting at you dipping the gauze in the boiled water, getting ready to clean out the wound.

“Don’t you normally wear glasses?”

“They’re in my pocket.”

You reach into his pocket and carefully place them on his face. “Better?” He nods. “Or maybe you don’t wanna see this?”

“Aren’t you gonna clean it out with vodka first?” He asks as your hand hovers over his wound, holding the gauze.

“Hell no - that’s only in the movies. Alcohol can damage your tissue. This is for us.” You open the bottle with one hand, take a quick swig and shudder before handing him the bottle.

“Shouldn’t you be sober for this?”

“Hey, the dogs never complain when I turn up to work drunk.”

“They don’t?”

Your face cracks into a smile as you take in the sincerity of his look. “A joke. I’m joking.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” He takes a long gulp of vodka, screws up his face and passes it back to you.

You clean his wound and he clenches his fists, breathing heavily.

“So, you said you’ve done this before?” You ask, trying to distract him.

“Yeah,” he says through gritted teeth.

You scan his toned lower abdomen and spot a gruesome-looking scar just under his navel. “Oof, I can tell. That looks like shit.”

“Hey-” He cuts himself off with a sharp inhale when you give the wound one last wipe.

You thread the sterilised needle. “You ready?”

“Wait.” He extends his arm towards the vodka and you pass it to him so he can take another drink. He shakes his head. “Ready.”

“I’ll be quick. I promise.”

He groans when the needle breaks his skin. “So, what’s your name? If it’s not Aidan.” If you keep him talking, you can take his mind off the pain. Keep him conscious.

“It’s Adrian.”

“How about that? I was close.”

“I know yours. I get your packages sometimes.” He says your full name and address as if reciting a poem.

“Well remembered,” you say, furrowing your brow in concentration as you make the next stitch. He grabs your shoulder instinctively.

“Sorry,” he whimpers.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so good.”

His grip tightens at that.

“Anyway, how come you’re home more than me? You always get my packages. Doesn’t doing all this keep you busy?”

“I work nights. Mostly. Evenings too at my other job.”

“You’re a waiter, right? I’ve seen your uniform.”

“Busboy.”

“That’s cool,” you jabber on, focusing on keeping him distracted. “Must be a pretty convincing secret identity.”

“Right?!” He perks up at your compliment, extremely pleased that you think his secret identity is a good one.

“Bussing tables in the evenings then committing murder at night?”

“It’s not murder.” He grimaces again. The grip on your shoulder is now vice-like. “It’s holding people accountable.”

“Sure, sure…” you say. You feel strangely calm. It’s as if the shy, awkward dude on your bed is just cosplaying as Vigilante. Even though you’re currently stitching up his fresh wound from whatever the fuck it is he’s been up to tonight.

“...You’re not gonna, like, tell anyone, right?” You feel his eyes studying your face as you continue stitching him up.

“That depends. What are you gonna do for me?”

For some reason, his cheeks turn crimson and he blinks rapidly behind his glasses.

“Uh, like what?” he blusters.

“Does your job have any perks?

“Uh… Do you need me to kill someone?”

“No!” And despite the absurdity of the question, you laugh. “I meant like free pink lemonade for life in exchange for stitching you up.”

“Ohhhh, right. I dunno. I might get asked a lot of questions if I give you free drinks.”

“More questions than you’d get at the hospital if I took you there instead?”

“Uh, no, probably not.” He chews his lower lip seriously and it makes you feel bad for teasing him in his sorry state.

“I’m kidding, dude. My lips are sealed.”

The fact he’s Vigilante doesn’t scare you in the way you know it should. You know you should absolutely phone the police. But you kind of enjoy sharing this. A dirty little secret between the two of you.

“Pink lemonade is overhyped,” he says after a few beats.

“Is is not! It’s like the best kind of lemonade.”

“It is - ow! Sorry! Okay, sorry for saying it’s overhyped! Pink lemonade is great. Jesus.”

“That wasn’t on purpose - sorry. It’s just the last stitch… Keep holding onto my shoulder if you want?” Before you even finish the suggestion, his blood-stained gloved grips onto your white nurse outfit. “You’re being so brave.”

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers.

His whimper makes you feel flustered in a way you hadn’t expected. And you’re pretty sure it’s nothing to do with the task at hand.

You can’t think of a response to comfort him. Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired - usually, your patients are much fluffier. You stop short of calling him a good boy and patting his head

Finally, you tie off your last stitch and squeeze some antibacterial ointment onto the neat row of stitches.

“Done. Now take a look at this.” With difficulty, he hoists himself into his elbows to look at his stomach. “Evenly spaced stitches, not too tight, yeah? Now look at these.” You point at the scar on his lower abdomen. “Tiny stitches. They’re too tight. And you shouldn’t make X’s when you sew yourself up. Not bad for a second try, though.”

“That was like the fifth time I’ve done it,” he pouts. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“Look, you can feel how it’s gone all bumpy.” You trace your fingers along the scar, feeling the way the skin has healed unevenly under the trail of hair on his stomach.

He flushes again as he looks down at you, your fingers brushing his abdomen.

“What?”

“Sorry.” He lies back again, determinedly looking at the ceiling.

“For what? Oh.” Your forearm brushes against something hard in his pants as you remove your hand from his stomach. “My bad.”

“It’s not - ” he winces, trying to sit up further but changes his mind mid-way through. “Fuck.”

“Does it hurt?”

“My… my boner?”

“No!” You crack up laughing again and he joins in uncertainly as if not sure why. “Your very recent knife wound?”

“Oh. Yeah. I mean - no.” His eyes linger on your body and you suddenly feel very aware of the fact that you’re kneeling at his side wearing not very much clothing. He swallows and looks away quickly. “Y’know, I should go. I don’t wanna ruin your night.”

You laugh like it’s nothing. That this whole situation is totally in your comfort zone.

“Don’t worry about it. I was supposed to be going to a Halloween party with a date but they bailed.”

“They bailed on you?”

“Eh, it happens.” You shrug. “They mighta had a better offer.”

“Than you?” He looks at you seriously and pushes his glasses higher up his nose. “No way. Not possible. You’re, like, a ten.”

You tilt your head and look at him carefully. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when you get up from the floor, sit on the bed next to him and place the back of your hand on his forehead.

“Wha - what are you doing?”

“You don’t seem to have a fever…” His eyebrows scrunch together as he gazes up at you through his wire-rimmed frames. “I just thought you might be hallucinating.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not hot.”

“You don’t have to compliment me just because I stitched you up.”

“Am not!” he protests like you’re teasing him. “I’d compliment you all the time if you didn’t run off every time I saw you.”

It’s your turn to protest. “I do not ‘run off’.”

Although it’s not strictly true. You sort of do. You just thought he hadn’t noticed.

“Uh, yeah!” he says. “When you picked up that package last week? It was kinda impressive how fast you sprinted across the hall.”

You feel heat rising in your neck as you remember it. He had answered the door wearing just a pair of grey sweatpants, grinning as you read the indiscreet label plastered on the front.

‘HOSPITAL HOTTIE - ADULT FANTASY LINGERIE’

You had stammered a quick thanks before fleeing back to your apartment where you shut the door behind you and leaned against it, eyes closed, not sure whether to text your friends immediately with this news or to strip off and take a cold shower.

You look down at your almost bare legs and smooth out the front of your outfit, now wishing you hadn’t so hastily thrown off your bathrobe. It must look ridiculous.

“Y’know when I saw the label, I thought a lot about what was in that package.”

Your eyes dart up instinctively to see if he’s making fun of you. He’s smiling. But sincerely. It’s a cute smile. With dimples.

“You did?”

“Tch - Hell yeah I did. I sort of… I dunno. Fantasised about this, I guess.”

Your throat feels dry. “About this?”

“Yeah, I mean I thought I might have been dreaming when you actually opened the door like that.”

You look at him suspiciously. “Adrian… did you - did you get stabbed on purpose so I’d take care of you?”

“What? No! I never get stabbed.”

“Never?”

You touch the scar on his lower abdomen again and this time - intentionally - your forearm rests on his crotch.

“Well, hardly ever.”

“You should let me stitch you up from now on,” you say, as your fingers dance down his stomach. “The next rare occasion you get stabbed.”

The heel of your hand barely grazes the tip of his hard cock through his pants. When his eyes lock onto yours, you know you’re not being slick. He swallows. You freeze. You’re worried you’ve overstepped.

You both stare at each other for a few seconds.

You realise you’ve been holding your breath. “What else was in your fantasy?” you whisper in an exhale.

“Fuck.” He closes his eyes like he’s throwing caution to the wind. “This.” His gloved hand clamps on top of yours faster than you’d have expected in his injured state and he firmly moves your hand over his cock.

Fuck it.

Your hands work urgently, unzipping the suit hugging his waistline and suddenly his warm cock is under your palm.

He suppresses a groan of pain and you look up in alarm, worried that you’ve hurt him somehow but you can see he’s trying to sit up.

“Lie back - you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“It’s - ow, fuck - it’s worth it if I can kiss you.”

You push his chest back gently so he’s lying on your pillows and kneel on the bed to kiss him. As soon as your lips meet his, he tries to lift himself up again, lurching himself deeper into your mouth. Your tongue slips into his mouth as you push, more firmly this time, onto his chest so he can’t sit up.

You lean your forehead against his and his glasses push into your brow. “Keep still. Nurse’s orders.”

“I thought you were a vet,” he says breathlessly.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

You lick your palm, wrap your hand around his cock and slide it along his shaft.

“Oh fuck... Fuck - you’re so hot. Where - where have you been all my life?”

His eyebrows knit together in a beautiful, pathetic sort of way that makes your lower tummy burn dangerously.

“Across the hall in this slutty little outfit. Waiting to take care of you.”

“Holy fucking shit.” He tenses his thighs and jerks his hips up into your slick fist with a laboured groan.

“Don’t. Stay still,” you tell him sternly. For some reason your reprimand makes him clench his jaw.

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yeah? I bet you do. I bet you’ve been jerking off thinking about it.”

“Y- yeah,” he gasps. His cheeks are flushed pink. You don’t think it’s from embarrassment - you have a feeling he doesn’t embarrass easily so you press on.

“Tell me.”

“I’ve been - shit - I’ve been jerking off thinking about you.”

“Doing what?” Your hand picks up pace and he squirms underneath your touch.

“I told you. This.”

“Just this?”

“Fuck. No.”

“Tell me then,” you repeat.

“I wanted to - oh god - when you ran across the hall, I wanted to grab you.” His voice strains. “Pull down your scrubs and fuck you so hard you wouldn’t forget my name again.”

You feel yourself dissolving then and there. “Shit. I would have let you.”

“Ah - fuck,” he whispers as he throbs under your hand. “Let me. Please.”

“No.” You stay in your kneeling position on the bed - one hand bracing against his chest to prevent him from sitting up and the other pumping up and down his cock. “You’re hurt. Lemme take care of you.”

He whimpers and pushes his head back into your pillows. The muscles in his pale neck tighten as he swallows hard. You can’t resist leaning down and pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses on the exposed sensitive flesh of his throat.

“Relax, Adrian,” you murmur, your mouth pressed against his skin.

When his name leaves your lips, his groan vibrates in his throat against your mouth in response.

“Fuck - fuck - you feel so good.”

“You know where’d feel better, right?”

Adrian’s hips jerk up into your hand again. You don’t scold him this time - you let him squirm and work his hips in sync with your fist. He can handle it.

You kiss along his jawline and meet his lips again.

“Cum for me and you can fuck me when you’re healed,” you whisper.

And quicker than you’d expected - he does.

A shaky gasp leaves his lips and without really realising you’re doing it, you pant with him, breathing each other’s air as spurts of warmth coat your fingers. Your hand flexes along his length as you milk every last rope of cum from him and he collapses back onto your fluffy, white pillows.

Grabbing tissues from your bedside table, he lets you clean him up without complaint as he breathes heavily, staring at your ceiling.

“Better?” You give him a wry smile and he brings his gaze back to you.

“Yeah…” He looks down at his new stitches apprasingly. “I just wish I hadn’t been stabbed.”

“Yeah, well I’m kind of glad you were.”

He laughs so hard that he winces in pain and holds his side again. “Fuck. You’re kind of a freak, you know that, right?”

“Maybe I just like helping injured little things that give me puppy dog eyes.”

Adrian exhales a gentle laugh and fixes his glasses.

“Did you mean what you said about stitching me up again?”

You meet his green eyes. “Did you mean what you said about fucking me so hard I’d never forget your name again?”

“Uh, yeah? Obviously.”

“Then sure.” You toss the used tissue into the trash can and kiss him again. “Fucking sounds good. Pink lemonade is overhyped, anyway.”

#adrian chase x reader #adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante peacemaker #vigilante x reader #smut #halloween

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nyxoz · 1 year

Note

hiiii i found your blog last night and i absolutely fell in love with your writing 🫶 i have a request if you don’t mind love. i was thinking something about the reader and eddie cuddling naked bc she loves skin on skin contact but doesn’t feel close enough to him. she’s not shy, but gets all flustered when trying to bring up cock warming to him. he’s so down for it and just really fluffy please :)

Eddie x You

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns

Word count: 1.1k

Today’s been one of those days where everything seems to just go wrong. All you want is to feel the press of your boyfriend’s skin against yours and breathe him in, feeling his strong arms wrapped around you and his calloused fingertips rubbing along your skin.

You enter the trailer and hear the strumming of a guitar coming from Eddie’s room. You noted Wayne’s truck missing from the front of the home so slowly as you walk towards the sound you strip off without a worry.

You stumble as you pull off your sneakers and socks, falling forward and catching yourself in the doorway.

Eddie looks up and stops strumming at the noise, his eyebrows raised in worry. You don’t even acknowledge him, just step in and start unzipping your jeans and panties, wiggling them down over your butt and down your legs. You step out of them and grab at the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. Finally, just in your bra, you lock eyes with Eddie.

“Take your clothes off, please.” You ask quietly.

Eddie gives you a soft look, he knows what that means, he knows it’s been a hard day and you just need to touch him and be surrounded by him.

You walk up to the bed and get on your knees, before laying down you unclip your bra and drop it behind you onto the floor. Flopping on the bed you bury your face in Eddie’s pillow and breathe in deep, already feeling a slight bit better.

You hear the telltale signs of Eddie undressing, and soon the bed dips next to you and you feel his calloused hand run over your back and up to your neck. His fingers massage you a little and you turn your head to look at him.

His hair hangs down and frames his face as he looks at you with big brown eyes and a soft smile.

“Come here.” He says laying down on his side.

You instantly shuffle close to him, turning around so your back faces his front and his arms snake under your head and over your waist, settling on your tummy.

He pushes flush against you and instantly you feel a little better at the contact, feeling his skin touching yours, warm and smooth.

His fingers dance along your tummy and you feel the rough tips of his fingers sliding up and down making your tummy dip.

Usually, this would make you feel so much better, his touch and feel instantly calming you down and grounding you to him. But for some reason, you still feel energy bubbling under your skin making you itchy and antsy.

You push back against him to feel closer even though you’re as close as possible and feel his cock between your cheeks. It kicks a little at the friction and you get an idea.

You want him inside you. You want to feel him deep in you. Not to have sex, you don’t want that right now. You just want to feel every single part of him.

Your cheeks burn at the thought and you don’t quite know how to bring it up without feeling silly.

You don’t realize you’re fidgeting until Eddie pulls back and rolls you onto your back to look down at you.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Hmm?” You ask, avoiding his eyes.

“Hey.” He taps your nose and you finally look into his honey eyes. “Tell me what’s in that pretty little head of yours, yeah?”

You bite at the skin of your bottom lip and stare up at him. You’re usually good at saying what you want but right now it feels too overwhelming.

You groan and cover your face with your hands.

Eddie laughs a little as he watches you.

“Come on.” He says.

You mumble something incoherent to both of you and Eddie pries your hands from your face.

“What was that?”

You look up at him from under your lashes and take a breath.

“What do you think about, uh,” you pause and watch his face, “uh, cockwarming?”

His eyebrows shoot up under his fringe and he licks at his bottom lip. He fiddles with your hands a little before replying.

“Haven’t really thought about it, to be honest, but now I am, it sounds really hot.”

You huff a little laugh, “I don’t wanna have sex though, like not right now anyways. I just—“ you stare down at your hands in his, “I need to feel closer to you. I can’t explain it, I jus—”

“Babe.” He stops you, “I want that. Wanna feel close to you too.”

“Yeah?” You smile up at him.

Eddie nods, “Yeah.”

You reach down and grab at his cock, giving it soft slow strokes to bring him to life just enough to slide into you. Eddie sighs in pleasure at the feel of your hand. He grows hard and soon he reaches for your hand to stop your movements.

“Enough now, c’mon, roll over.”

You roll onto your side, back to his front again, and he grabs at your leg to lift it a little to get access to your pussy. His other hand traces along your folds and you shiver at the contact, feeling goosebumps cover your skin.

He grabs at his cock and slides it over your cunt before pressing at your entrance. You hiss at the slight burn as he pushes in. He drops your leg as he bottoms out and is pressed flush against you, his pelvis pressed against your ass.

You feel him deep inside you, his cock stretching you perfectly. His arm drapes over your waist and lands on your tummy, pushing down on it so you feel the pressure of him even deeper inside you. You hiccup at the touch and press further back against him.

“Feeling better?”

You nod, unable to speak, just wanting to feel it all without a word.

He presses a kiss to the back of your head and settles comfortably behind you.

You bask in the feeling of touching him everywhere. From head to chest, tummy, back, legs, and toes. All touching. And then there’s his cock, buried deep inside you, your warm walls wrapped around him. It feels so right having him like this. Your body feels as relaxed as it’s ever been and you let out a content sigh.

You lay like that for a while and feel his cock soften inside you but he doesn’t move when it does, just keeps his arm around you and presses some kisses to your hair.

You feel so loved and complete in that moment that you never want it to end.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #oz writes #oz writes eddie munson #nxyoz

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drunk-on-dk · 1 year

Text

Best Neighbor of All Time Award | Lee Seokmin (M)

✦pairing: neighbor!Seokmin x fem!reader

✦genre: fluffy? before the SMUT (minors DNI)

✦wc: ~6.4 and some change (most likely, still pending a deep proofread)

✦summary: Seokmin is the best neighbor you've ever had, making it impossible not to fall for his charms.

NSFW warnings under the cut, minors do not read, 18+ only

✦warnings: no specific pronouns used, but reader has female anatomy & wears a skirt; pet names (sweetheart); switch!Seokmin; switch!reader; mention of masturbation; unprotected sex (pls be safe and wrap it before u tap it friends); fingering; oral (male receiving); creampie; some choking? some degradation? some humiliation? some orgasm denial? some overstim? hello? am i ok?

✦a/n: hi this was created from this lovely ask here. thank you thank you thank you for sending that in kind anon. tbh, this was originally a fic for jun, but when i got this ask I felt inspired to rewrite this about DK. (i'm really hoping to get more fics out about more members, but my mind went haywire from this request)

If such an award existed, you’d grant Lee Seokmin the Best Neighbor of All Time Award. Living next to Seokmin proved to be one of your most symbiotic relationships, even if he was just a trustworthy neighbor before becoming a good friend of yours.

You had first met him when a package of yours was delivered to his apartment rather than yours, signing for the delivery without even checking the addressee and tearing into the box without hesitation. Only then did he realize the package was filled with clothing he couldn’t quite remember ordering, reevaluating the packing slip, and panicking when he realized the delivery was addressed to the person next door.

Flustered, Seokmin appeared at your doorstep, ears tinted an endearing shade of red as he knocked at your front door and nervously held the opened package to his chest. When you cracked the door open with a soft, polite smile adorning your very pretty features, Seokmin could have sworn he felt the blush spread from his ears like rapid fire throughout his chest and face, as he hadn’t expected someone around his age (and notably attractive) to live right next door to him. He felt even more like a fool with your package in his hand, which he had so blatantly ripped into, and felt like he had invaded your privacy before ever meeting you.

However, Seokmin felt more at ease when you greeted him without hesitation, the door opening wider as your smile broadened, “oh, I recognize you. You live right next door, right? I’m Y/N, sorry I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself yet, I just moved in about a week or so ago.”

Admittedly, Seokmin felt a bit silly that he hadn’t recognized you when you had clearly recognized him, but he didn’t bask in it as he introduced himself, “I’m Seokmin, but my friends call me DK,” you watched as he nervously ruffled his hair, eyes flickering to the package held tightly in his other hand, “and I am so sorry, but I was delivered your package and opened it myself.”

You let out the most saccharine laugh he’s sworn he’s ever heard, graciously accepting the package, and further easing Seokmin’s nerves from how pleasant you seemed. “No worries,” your expression jokingly shifted to one that was skeptical, “you didn’t see anything incriminating or suggestive in here, did you?”

You found it charming how the tall, handsome man seemed to stutter at your question, noting how easy it was to make him flustered. With a giggle, you let him off the hook as he struggled to find his words, “Just kidding, thank you for dropping this off. I’ll see you around then, DK?”

Seokmin let out a little laugh alongside you, cursing himself for acting so out of character around you, but he blames it on the unfortunate circumstances of how he had to meet his new neighbor. “Yeah, see you around,” he gives you a little wave as you tuck behind your door, closing it gently as you wave back, “nice to meet you, Y/N.”

He can hear a little “you too!” escape from the crack of your door as you shut it, finally allowing him to breathe out in relief as he heads back to his apartment. Little did he know, you were pressed up against your door, a hand gently slapping your cheek in embarrassment that you asked him if he came across anything incriminating or suggestive, unbelieving that you had asked him such a thing upon first meeting him.

Your neighborly friendship with Seokmin only blossomed from there, the next interaction you had with him being in the elevator a few days later. You had both made small talk and exchanged numbers, Seokmin letting you know that you shouldn’t ever hesitate to give him a call if you ever need anything.

Seokmin didn’t expect you to take him up so quickly on the offer though, phone buzzing later that same night with your name appearing on his screen. He couldn’t help the smile that creeped onto his face at seeing your name, quickly picking up your call and ready to tease you for calling him so soon. However, he especially wasn’t expecting to hear your frantic tone, barely able to make out your words as you spoke quickly into the phone.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Seokmin interrupted you finally, “you need to slow down, Y/N. I’m walking over now.” He was already out the front door of his apartment, about to knock at your door as you finally let out a coherent sentence.

“The door is unlocked,” you cried out, “just let yourself in.”

With that, Seokmin burst into your apartment without further hesitation, hanging up the phone to find you standing atop your counters with a broom in hand. He began to approach you, further confused by the situation, but only wanting to offer consolation.

“Stop!” You squealed, halting his movements mid-step, and pointing down at the ground directly in front of you. Seokmin’s gaze followed in the direction you were pointing; your quiet whimpers were suddenly drowned out by his own shouts as he realizes what you were afraid of. An extremely large spider stood in the middle of your kitchen, eerily standing still as you both panicked.

Seokmin embarrassingly enough found himself crouched up on one of your barstools, reaching for the broom in your hand as he continued to let out shouts of terror himself. He frantically batted at the spider, attempting to crush the damned arachnid with your weapon of choice, only for you to interrupt him mid-swat.

“No,” you wailed out in despair, “don’t kill it.”

“What do you want me to do,” Seokmin was unbelieving, saucer-like eyes staring into yours as he watched the spider scurry across the floor towards him.

You handed him the dustpan, panic clear in your tone, “I don’t know, sweep it up into this and throw him out the window.”

Seokmin obliged, trying not to make himself look like any more of a coward in front of you as he hopped down from the stool and swiftly swept the spider up into the dustpan, hauling across the kitchen to shake the spider out of your open window. Of course, all of this was done with consistent hoots and hollers on his end.

After all was said and done, Seokmin found himself breathlessly leaning against your window, absolutely taxed from the whole event. Seokmin only came back to reality upon hearing your melodious laugh, turning around to see you still on your countertops, curled into a little ball as you uncontrollably laughed.

“Hey,” Seokmin shouted, approaching you with his finger pointed in your direction, and he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips as well. In false seriousness, gently poking at you as you held onto your side to contain your laughter, “are you laughing at my demise? Who’s the one who called me in sheer panic?”

“I’m sorry,” you managed to squeak out in between laughs, “but this whole thing was just too funny in hindsight.” Your cheeks hurt from laughing so hard, only laughing more as Seokmin joins you, but still seeming a bit embarrassed as he shoves your broom into a corner of your apartment.

You feel bad for laughing, so you slide off your countertop and walk towards him with your arms out, a cheesy smile on your face. “C’mon, bring it in, big guy.”

Hesitantly, Seokmin accepts your hug, an awkward hand patting your shoulder as you embrace his much larger frame. He’s stiff and he’s not sure why; eyes still wide when you pull away and lift his hand up to high-five your own. Honestly, you’re not sure why you went in for a hug, only trying to offer some consolation, but your already pounding heart seemed to only get worse.

“Thanks for coming over and helping,” you suddenly feel a bit sheepish, but still try to make ease of it all, “even though you seem a bit scared of bugs as well. I appreciate it, I owe you one, neighbor.”

Seokmin relaxes a bit, noticing you’re a bit embarrassed yourself, “no problem, Y/N. I told you to give me a call anytime.” He’s ready to dismiss himself, ready to head back to his own apartment. Why must every interaction with you be slightly embarrassing for him?

“You better watch what you offer out,” you joke, earning a chuckle from Seokmin as he exits your apartment.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Good luck getting sleep tonight after knowing that was in your house.”

You giggle a bit, bidding Seokmin a goodnight as well as you watch him shut your door, heart still pounding erratically in your chest. You were done for; you absolutely knew it. How could you get so lucky, having an extremely handsome neighbor who is just the right amount sweet and chaotic? You refused to fantasize about any relationship with him though, knowing it was extremely premature of you and you didn’t want to get carried away with a crush on someone right next door.

You did everything to suppress your excitement when you’d see Seokmin within the halls of your apartment complex, when he’d send you texts informing you of local events, or when you could slightly hear him singing to himself through the thin wall that divided your apartments.

Once you had made yourself a bit too large of a batch of brownies, deciding to bring a tray over to Seokmin’s as a treat for being so welcoming and helpful to you. You won’t ever forget how his eyes lit up upon opening the door to you, excitedly exclaiming what a delightful surprise it was to see you and inviting you inside with your tray of brownies. You especially won’t forget the way his smile extended to his eyes when he took a bite of the treat, letting you know that these were the best brownies he’s ever had in his life.

He made you feel like a high schooler all over again, feeling giddy from his praise as he continued to snack on the chocolate treat. You took this time to look around his apartment, the space being just as comforting and warm as he was. Seokmin offered you a glass of wine that night, asking if you’d like to try some of the new bottle of red wine that he had started sipping on. You obliged when he claimed that it was the least he could do after you brought over the brownies, but you would have agreed regardless to spend more time with him.

You weren’t sure if it was the wine or Seokmin that made you feel tingly that night, mirroring Seokmin’s smile when he asked if you liked the wine, “I like it a lot,” you claimed. I like you a lot, you thought.

After that, Seokmin had gifted you wine occasionally, handing it to you with that signature smile of his, and always including a handwritten note tied around the neck of the bottle. Sometimes he’d come over with a six-pack of beer. Sometimes you’d invite him in to join you on you couch; you both would end up drinking the entire six-pack, bent over in laughter after making fun of whatever stupid rom com you had been watching. Sometimes you’d find yourself getting a little too drunk, tears spilling out over nothing as Seokmin held you to his chest, hushing and consoling you even though he’s not sure why you are crying in the first place. Sometimes you’d both end up dancing to the credit scene music, laughing and talking the night away. Nothing ever came of these nights though, other than your budding friendship, and your burgeoning one-sided crush on him.

One morning you had seen Seokmin in passing, the usually lively man looking sickly and bundled up, still sending a smile your way to greet you. You had asked him what was wrong, and he claimed he just had a simple cold. You couldn’t help but feel guilty every time you heard his cough from the other side of the wall.

Later that evening, you were sure to bring over some homemade chicken noodle soup, herbal tea, and medicine for him. You had texted him prior to bringing the remedy over, making sure he wasn’t sleeping, and he let you know just to let yourself in. You found yourself keeping him company all night, even if it meant you risked getting sick yourself, claiming that these were part of your neighborly duties and that he’d do the same for you. Seokmin was a bit skeptical, but he sure did enjoy having you around (and he would do the same for you).

All these events and more have led to an undeniable friendship, both of you living symbiotically and constantly being there for one another. It was hard to suppress any emotions you felt for him at this point, and you found yourself reading into his actions a bit too much. You were even guilty of inviting dates over purely in hopes that he would overhear you conversing with them through the walls and become jealous. You’d always end up unsuccessful, booting them from your apartment before they ever had the chance with you.

You’d become shameless when you’d find yourself in bed later at night, touching yourself to the thoughts of Seokmin, crying out his name upon your release. This was the only time you ever wished Seokmin couldn’t hear you, cheeks heating up in embarrassment after realizing how loud you may have been from just a little fantasy and feeling a bit dishonorable.

It had now been months into your friendship, consistently being good neighbors to one another, and you were excited to say you were learning all the small things about Seokmin, as he was about you. He had become your movie and tv-series watching partner, wine and beer-drinking partner, shoulder to cry on, and overall hype man.

You were the same for him, being sure to cheer him on even when it hurt deep down. Even when he showed up at your door with a bouquet of roses, nervously chewing at his bottom lip, you did everything to contain your excitement. Which quickly died down when he asked if he looked okay, letting you know he had a date tonight and wasn’t sure if he was overdressed.

Trying not to sound dejected, you put on your best smile and gave him a thumbs up. “You look absolutely handsome, Seokmin, they are extremely lucky whoever they are.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he’d smile the widest you’d ever seen him smile, hand slipping behind your head to pull you in for a quick forehead kiss. “Don’t forget I’m having some people over tomorrow for a party, you’re invited, I want you to meet all my friends.”

All of this made your stomach erupt in butterflies, the spot on your forehead where his lips had pressed against tingled uncomfortably and the thought of being introduced to his friends made your cheeks heat up even more. You were sure they’d all be just like him, and you weren’t sure you could handle it. “I’ll be there, don’t you worry. Have fun tonight, Seok!”

You’d watch him disappear into the elevator after he bid you goodnight, jokingly scolding you for not having something fun planned for a Friday night, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to enjoy it anyways knowing he was out on a date. It’s not something you're proud of, but that night you prayed that the date went horribly, attempting to stay up to hear if he had brought his date home, but your heavy eyelids betrayed you before you could ever find out.

The next day, you found yourself preparing in advance for Seokmin’s party, taking your time in the shower, and performing a whole self-care routine. You were someone who always thought to hell with the male gaze, so why did you care so much about what you looked like tonight, you only ever dressed or got ready for yourself. Seokmin has also seen you at your worst; bedhead, matted Hello-Kitty robe, wine-stained teeth, and all.

Maybe you were a bit overdressed for a simple apartment party. Maybe the leather skirt, tights, and boots were a bit of an overkill if you were being honest, but you could argue that Seokmin’s outfit for his date last night was a bit of an overkill, especially with those roses. Maybe you were being a bit petty, and you should reconsider your outfit for your own self-preservation. However, the skirt and tights were already on, and it was an achievement in itself to not rip the nylon fabric.

The music next door for Seokmin’s party had already begun, hearing the celebratory cheers in the hall as his friends seemingly began to arrive. It all made you extremely nervous, even though you consider yourself friendly and sociable you were still shy in nature. The loud chatter through the walls only made you anxious, taking a shot of the untouched vodka that had been in the back of your freezer in hope that you’d gain some confidence. Grabbing the rack of beers that you had purchased in advance for the party, you had finally mustered up enough courage to march over to Seokmin’s apartment, not wanting to arrive too fashionably late.

To your surprise, an incredibly handsome man that was not Seokmin opened the door. He was tall, with sharp canines that made his pretty smile even more charming. The man quickly noticed the rack of beers in your hand, the heavy case making you a bit unbalanced as you anxiously stand at the front door.

“Y/N?” The man asks, his soft voice surprising you, and you feverishly nod as he reaches to grab the case of beers from your hand, noticing your struggle. “I’m Mingyu, come on in. DK can’t stop talking about how he can’t wait for us to meet you.”

You shuffle in behind him, muttering a thank you as he turns to the rest of the crew in the apartment, holding the rack of beers up victoriously as he announces your presence. Seokmin is quick to dash over to you upon noticing your arrival, excusing himself from the group that he was in the corner of his kitchen and making his way over to you.

An arm of his snakes around your waist prior to introducing you to all his friends. “All, this is Y/N, my neighbor who I seriously don’t know what I’d do without,” he chuckles, and you feel extremely self-conscious under the gaze of his unexpectedly large group of friends. Still, you can’t hold back the smile as he tugs you a bit closer to him, seeming to notice your discomfort.

“Nice to meet you all,” you smile, feeling more at ease as the group welcomes you in, introducing themselves one at a time as Mingyu slips a chilled beer into your hands.

You quickly feel comfortable, the group of friends being delightful as you had suspected, all of them being as funny and charming as Seokmin is. You’re also quick to pick up on some of their dynamics, especially after the one named Soonyoung, who made it clear that he really goes by Hoshi, seems to spill a bit too much information about the group to you.

“That’s Jeonghan,” he slurs as you follow his gaze, remembering him as the overtly sweet boy with a cute chuckle, “he seems all innocent, but be sure to keep an eye on him when you play any games tonight. Then, that is Seungcheol and his girlfriend. He acts all tough, but he’s an absolute simp.”

Hoshi continues dishing all the gossip as you sip down your first beer. It’s quite enjoyable, laughing at all his jokes as he shares all their little nuances. Seokmin finds himself watching you most of the night, unable to hold back his smile as he watches you bond with his friends.

As if Mingyu could sense you had finished your first drink, he appears at your side and hands you a fresh beer, sitting closely next to you. The feeling of his thigh on yours is enough to make your body heat up feverishly. Not that you notice, but Seokmin is sure to take note of how close his friend has gotten to you, as well as the painstakingly pretty blush on your cheeks.

“Ah,” Hoshi unexpectedly raises his voice, making both you and Mingyu jump a bit in shock. “That’s Mingyu, he’s fun to pick on. Anyways, what do you want to know about DK, Y/N?”

Both you and Mingyu chuckle at Hoshi’s antics, and you hum in thought, “hmm, what is something you think I don’t know about him?”

Hoshi chuckles evilly, “well, you should know that –,” and as if Mingyu knows what he is going to say before the tipsy boy can even utter another word, he reaches across your body to cover his mouth and pull him away from you.

Finally noticing Seokmin’s attention on you from across the room as Mingyu pulls Hoshi away, you make your way over to him as he watches you intently, sipping on the beer in hand.

“What was that about?” Seokmin chuckles, feeling slightly nervous about the interaction and still a bit unsettled by Mingyu’s not-so-sly advances.

You laugh, leaning against the counter with Seokmin, head subconsciously resting on his shoulder as you watch his friends mingle amongst each other. “Your friend Hoshi is a hoot; you should hear all the tea he was spilling about you guys. He may be my favorite other than you.”

Seokmin’s heart warms at your last statement, but he can’t hide the little green-eyed monster that burns inside of him. “What about Mingyu?”

You seem confused by his question, head turning from his shoulder to look up at him with starry eyes and pouty lips. “What do you mean?”

Seokmin feels the fire within him burn a bit hotter, feeling lost for words when you look up at him like that. “Nothing,” he mutters, realizing there is nothing for him to worry about at this moment. He takes this chance to dip his lips down towards your ear, brushing your hair back gently as he whispers to you, “you look very pretty tonight, Y/N.”

His fingers burn into the back of your neck, goosebumps littering your skin from his touch and the way his hot breath feels as he whispers in your ear. You’re suddenly shy again, muttering out a bleak "thank you" as your freehand grips his forearm, arousal pooling at your core from the way his dark eyes bore into yours. Something has finally shifted, and you both can feel it.

When he pulls away, you’re taunted by that smile of his, and you know he feels accomplished by his effect on you. This ignites something in you, scanning the room to see what state of mind his friends are in, and taking note that they are all irreparably drunk and in their own world.

It’s your turn to whisper in his ear now, standing on your tippy toes as you ask him a simple question, “I’ve never seen your bedroom before, Seokmin. Care to show me it?”

No time is wasted as Seokmin wraps his fingers through yours, guiding you hastily to his room at the end of the hall, exactly like the layout of your apartment. You feel a bit embarrassed, realizing that his bedroom is indeed opposite of yours, remembering all the nights you’ve coaxed yourself to orgasm just from thoughts of him.

Your disappearance seems to go unnoticed, the music and lively conversations continuing in Seokmin’s living room. Not that it even matters, the sound dying out the second Seokmin slams his lips against yours. Your ears are ringing from the contact, the absolute bliss of feeling his soft lips on yours wracking your entire body with delight, hungrily kissing him back as you wrap your hands around his neck and press your torso closer to his.

His kisses are so rough, yet careful, long, and desperate as his hands begin to roam your body, playfully squeezing at your hips and ass. You keen into him, nose nudging his as your tongue begs for entry, teeth biting at his bottom lip. Seokmin lets you lead, drinking you in for the first time, loving how sweet you still tasted after drinking beer all night with his friends.

Seokmin’s surprised when your lips move down his neck, letting out a gasp as you nibble at his skin. He’s holding onto your waist as if you’d disappear on him, hands pulling out the shirt tucked into your skirt, and slipping the top off you as you suckle on his neck. He’s thankful for the brief loss of contact, the feeling of you on his skin becoming all too intoxicating for him. You’re swift to reattach to him though, plush lips roaming his jaw and neck before reattaching to his lips.

Seokmin is desperate to keep kissing you, needy hands roaming your back before unclasping your bra expertly and enjoying the way you moan into the kiss as he pulls the garment off your chest. You don’t hesitate to guide his hands towards your breasts, encouraging him to touch you, and he takes your cue. He massages at the soft mounds, the kiss between you two becoming hotter as your lower half grinds against his, his fingers tweaking your nipples and making you cry out pathetically.

You can’t wait any longer, detaching your lips from Seokmin’s to drop down to your knees, shaky hands working at his belt as you watch him from under your eyelids. Seokmin swears he could cum right then and there, loving the darkness in your typically bright eyes, and losing it over how swollen your lips are already from just kissing you. It’s sinful how you look beneath him, with no top or bra on, just in your skirt and tights as you desperately pull his pants down. He’s a whiny mess, hand finding itself in your hair as he waits in anticipation.

“Is this okay, Seok?” You ask, voice like honey as you palm at his erection through his boxers. Oh, you can already tell he’s big, his cock feeling hot through the thin fabric, and holding back the temptation to lick the bit of precum that has leaked through.

“Fuck,” he’s groaning out lowly, “this is more than okay, sweetheart.”

Your heart flutters at the endearing pet name, never usually liking that sort of stuff, but when it’s him, it works for you. You pull his boxers down finally, his length hot and heavy exactly like you expected it to be, precum leaking out of the tip and making you hyper-aware of how wet you are yourself.

You take your time licking up his shaft, the man above you shuttering in bliss as you slowly wrap your lips around his tip. You’re completely in control, loving the way he shakes at your touch as he pleads for you to take him in completely. Your eyes flicker back up to his, a darkness in them that you’ve never seen before, and Seokmin’s hips buck into your mouth uncontrollably.

He’s quick to pull you off him, shocked by his own reflexes, and muttering out apologies. However, this only turned you on more, taking him back into your mouth and wasting no time to start messily sucking his cock. He’s groaning out, hand tangling itself even more in your hair as he refrains from bucking into your mouth.

Your hands are clawing at his hips, trying to keep him from fucking your mouth too roughly, but you love it. You didn’t think Seokmin had it in him honestly. Moaning around his length, your tongue works at the veins of his shaft as you hollow your cheeks out. He’s painfully hard, you can tell, and if you could, you’d mutter out praises as he does a good job at not thrusting into your mouth.

You can feel the saliva spilling from the sides of your mouth, Seokmin loves how much of a mess you look below him, tears forming in your eyes at the way the tip of his cock the back of your throat occasionally. He loves how you continue to moan around his cock, watching as your hips desperately grind against nothing as your fingertips dig crescent moons into his hips. He groans as your moans get more and more wonton, loving the way the vibrations feel as you needily suck and lick at his length.

You finally find yourself wrapping a hand around him, the lubrication from your spit providing more than enough glide as you work at his shaft. You can feel him pulsing in your mouth and hand, his groans and whimpers becoming more frequent as he uncontrollably thrusts into your mouth. “Shit,” he’s groaning out, heavily breathing as you continue to jerk and suck him off, “so fucking messy, sweetheart.”

“Be a good boy, Seok,” you finally pull away, noticing how his length is throbbing and how his thrusts are getting more desperate. He’s trying his best to refrain and listen, but your mouth just feels too fucking good and you look so fucking sexy.

He’s crying out softly, nodding as you take him back in, spitting on his cock lewdly as you continue your ministrations. Humming against in cock in praise does not help him one bit, immediately disobeying you, and you pull away to remind him who is in control.

“I’ll be good,” he’s groaning, his erection feeling almost painful at this point from how overstimulated he felt. “Fuck, I promise.”

You tsk out, feeling confident from your effect on Seokmin, and you continue to work at his shaft with your hands, lips shiny and swollen, driving Seokmin deeper into oblivion. He feels so close to his orgasm, hoping you’ll let him finish just this once, swearing internally that he’ll make it up to you.

“You’re not being so good, Seok, you keep fucking my hands and mouth. Are you that needy?” You’re pouting out, hand tightening at the base of his cock and making something in him snap.

Much to your surprise, Seokmin is lifting you from where you’re kneeling on the ground and throwing you face down onto the bed. He’s quick to unzip your boots, roughly tugging your skirt and tights down before running a finger over your sopping cunt.

You’re pushing back into him, the feeling of his fingers over your heat making you chase his hand as he teasingly gathers your essence before rubbing your clit briefly. His fingers gently slap your folds, making you moan out in shock.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Seokmin is bent over you, cock heavy against your ass as he whispers in your ear. “Be a good sweetheart for me now.”

Gasping out, you’re nearly crying when he dips two fingers in between your folds, and your walls immediately take them in. He’s chuckling lowly, fingers scissoring in and out of you as you squirm against his sheets, unable to take back control when his other hand is quick to hold your hips down. He’s much stronger than you ever expected, shocked, and further turned on by how quickly he switched roles on you.

“Who would have thought the sweetheart next door would be creaming all over my fingers,” he coos out, loving the squelching sound of your pussy as he continues to curl his fingers inside of you, denying you of your orgasm when you inevitably clamp even tighter around his fingers. You can feel his smile against your back, teeth and lips working against your skin as he leans over you, no longer applying enough pressure to your clit and making you feel empty again upon removing his fingers. “See how that feels, Y/N? Doesn’t feel so good when you’re on the other side, hm?”

“Seok,” you’re whining out, grinding your hips back into his, and you feel a bit of satisfaction when you feel him keen into you, hot breath running down your spine. “Please, no more games. Just fuck me already. I’m tested and on the pill.”

He no longer has any self-control, but he makes sure he keeps his dominance as his tip prods at your center, fighting the way your tight walls try to suck him in. It proves to be difficult as Seokmin shallowly thrusts inside of you, hot, slick walls clamping around his cock as he bottoms out.

It all feels so dirty, Seokmin thrusting into you, loving the way your walls flutter around his cock as he teasingly pulls in and out. The distant sound of music and his friends in the background, only remembering their presence when he hears a celebratory cheer from the group, assumingly from the intense drinking game taking place in the living room.

You’re a whimpering mess beneath him, crying out about how good he feels inside of you, how big he is, and how full you feel. This only makes him fuck you harder, loving how vulgar and lewd you are in his grasp, pulling out to only slam his hips into your ass, his tip hitting deep inside you exactly where you need him most.

Seokmin shamelessly watched the way your ass bounced against him, hands finding purchase in your hair as he pulls you back up against his chest. He whispers in your ear like he did earlier, mercilessly fucking into you as he says, “you look so fucking pretty tonight, Y/N. All dressed up for me, weren’t you?”

Your head lolls back onto his shoulder, his hand loosening its grip on your hair as they make its way around your throat. He’s still gentle, long fingers wrapping around your neck to hold you in place as he nips at your ear, waiting for your response. “Yes,” you gasp out, feeling him repeatedly hit the spongey spot inside of you, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable as the coil inside of you tightens. “All for you, Seok.”

You’re holding onto his forearms, bouncing against him as you feel his pace start to become a bit sloppy, and you’re only tightening around him even more, loving how carnal he is when his grip tightens around your neck, pulling your lips against him. You feel so breathless, so consumed by him in all ways possible.

“Are you close, sweetheart?” He’s mumbling against your lips, and you can tell he’s close himself, feeling him throbbing inside of you as you rock back into him to meet his thrusts. You’re nodding desperately, enjoying how his fingernails dig into the delicate skin of your neck, teeth pulling at your bottom lip as you moan into his own. One hand makes its way down to your clit, thumb working circles at the bud and almost making you collapse. “I want to hear you cry out my name then, sweetheart, just like I hear you do through those walls.”

Just like that, you’re spasming around him, pleasure taking you over like pure ecstasy as you cry out his name, slightly humiliated but beyond sated as you feel yourself gush around him. “Seokmin,” you still cry out, feeling overstimulated, but needing him to fill you. “Inside me, Seok, please.”

“Fuck, anything since you’ve been so good for me, sweetheart,” and with that he is painting your walls, hot cum spilling deep inside of you as he pulls you in for one more harsh kiss. You continue to slowly grind back on him, getting off on how he shakes behind you and groans into the kiss. “So, so good,” he is mumbling against your lips, slowly pushing you off him and you cry out a bit from the loss of warmth and fullness.

Seokmin begins to take care of you but allows himself to watch as his cum drips from your folds, down your thigh. He comes to when you giggle a bit, shaking your hips at him to remind him that he’s supposed to be cleaning up. Seokmin lets out a puff of laughter, helping to clean you up before assisting you in getting dressed. Slowly, Seokmin pulls your tights back up your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he gently pulls the fabric up, ensuring not to ruin the integrity of the delicate nylon.

You feel love drunk, soaking in the way he treats you so well after fucking you so roughly. You giggle uncontrollably when he nuzzles his nose into your neck, blowing affectionate raspberries into the skin before kissing your cheek.

He can see all the stars in your eyes like this, staring into them between each peppered kiss as he praises you for being so good for him, whispering sweet nothings of how lucky he is to have met you.

You’re overwhelmed by it all, pulling him into a deep kiss again, but Seokmin, unfortunately, pulls away. “Y/N, please don’t get me worked up again, all my friends are out there. We have so much time to do this again.”

“You’re right,” your lips betray you, pulling him in for another kiss. You feel giddy at him mentioning doing this all again. He gives you a serious look that molds into one of endearment. “Okay, okay. No, you’re right.”

Finally, sitting up, you both compose and fully dress yourselves, sneaking kisses every so often.

“Your friends are going to hate me, Seok,” you chuckle when he pulls you in for one last embrace, pulling you close to him after spinning you around, taking in how beautiful you look.

“Nope,” he smiles, knowing that you’ve already bonded enough with his friends, and he’s sure they all have had an inkling he was obsessed with you from how much he’s spoken about you, “you’ve absolutely won them over just like you’ve won me over.”

Seokmin was right, the group soon would become some of your closest friends. Other than cringing at how sickeningly you and Seokmin were in love, his group of friends was thankful he’d found you. Similarly, you were thankful you found Seokmin. You’ve never felt so at home and loved, all thanks to moving in next to Seokmin.

Really, if such a thing existed, you’d grant Lee Seokmin the Best Neighbor of All Time Award. Never mind that title, instead, you’d now grant Lee Seokmin the Best Boyfriend of All Time Award.

#svthub #seventeen smut #lee seokmin smut #seokmin smut #dk smut #dokyeom smut #lee dokyeom smut #svt smut #seventeen fic #svt fic

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sandinthemachine · 1 year

Text

Mortal Remains

König x f!reader

written for the request: "You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn't have to go to such extremes." With Either ghost or König? There's not enough fluff for my men.

I don't even know where to begin with this one. It's massive, the longest one I've ever written. I love it, and I hate it. It made me cry. I'm excited and terrified to see what everyone else thinks. I hope someone reading this feels at least one of those emotions while doing so (preferably not hate)

before I begin, thank you to @sprout-fics and @zwienzixes for being lovely beta readers, and a MASSIVE thank you to @itsagrimm for beta-reading, helping me work through ideas, giving me proper German translations, and all around being an amazing and supportive person. I would have given up on this without all the help.

Translations for the German will be at the bottom

Words: 12,450 (yeah...it's big just like him)

Warnings/tags: König is soft and pretends not to be, reader is afab but no pronouns used, canon-typical violence, piv sex, oral f!receiving, self-deprecation, lots of raw emotions, mental health is hard, fluffy ending

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It started easy enough, as so many things do.

A week-long joint training exercise. Mixed teams, both 141 and KorTac. Something something bonding before the real mission. You hadn’t been listening.

You remember being excited to be teamed with Soap. At least you could get along with someone, you mused. You barely noticed the hooded figure, tall and sticking to the corners, merging with the lengthening shadows. What’s another ghost haunting your footsteps? Nothing special, that’s for sure.

The first four days fly by. Early morning patrols, always in pairs, tracking for signs of the other team. Finding nothing, you move to a different shelter, secure the area, sleep. Rinse, repeat.

The fifth day is different. There are ragged clouds cloaking the sun while the rest of the sky is completely clear. You’re not sure why you noticed that, but you did.

It was an early morning patrol, as usual, you and your partner sweeping around a centerpoint like you were analyzing a single massive clock. Northeast quadrant clear. Southeast clear. Southwest…a scuff in the dirt. You lean down, fingers tracing the air just above it, a black fleck catching your eye. You grasp it, finding it much larger than you originally expected and partially buried. You pull at the rubbery texture, curious. Distracted.

The ambush comes quietly. Perfectly so. The weight lands on your back with an abruptness that flattens your lungs, dropping you directly onto your hands. You might have twisted your wrist, but the pain of that is overshadowed by the thought of the immense beratement you’ll get from your NCO for failing so fast.

Yet the weight from your back is lifted as quietly as it arrived. You turn, rolling to your feet to find that it had been Gaz on top of you only a second ago. Now he dangles like a ragdoll in the air. The shadow holding him draws a knife, taps it against his throat. You're out.

Gaz sighs as he’s set on the ground, giving you a nod before marching off. You don’t return it, too busy staring at the man next to him.

You’d never noticed his eyes before. You’re used to Ghost’s eyes, dark and unyielding, cavernous black holes reaching into a skull long dead. Like he was born to wear the mask.

This man’s eyes couldn’t be more different. They’re pale, washed out, windows into a sky perpetually on the verge of snowfall, slumbering clouds cold and waiting.

They curve down at the corners, lending an air of melancholy to the only part of his face you can see. You wonder how he really feels behind that gaze.

You’re staring.

You clear your throat awkwardly, aiming to thank him before pausing. “I…I’m sorry, I never caught your callsign?”

The head dips down, draped fabric falling down his chest slightly. A nod. “We need to keep moving.”

And he’s walking past you.

Two days later, the training exercise finally comes to a head in a fierce brawl over the fake weapons cache. Knives and fists only.

The fight takes only a few minutes. Ghost on the opposite team notices your attempted ambush immediately, throwing his men after you. Your team is outnumbered, stuck in a hallway. But it doesn’t matter.

Ghost and the hooded man roll on the ground, tousling like a pair of tomcats, Ghost landing on top for just a second, raising his knife-

You’re there. Arm wrapped around his shoulders. Blade tapping against his throat. You’re out.

With that, the fight is over. Ghost moves with a grumble at the man under him. It might have been a threat. But the man doesn’t hear it. He’s too busy staring at you with grey-sky eyes wide. A child dressed as a dirty sheet-ghost. “I…I don’t know your-”

You thrust your hand out, yanking him to his feet. “We’d better head back.”

You feel him at your back throughout the debriefing. Rolling thunder clouds looming over your head, ready to burst at any second. Your tongue is between your teeth, lungs heaving. Soap whispers a joke in your ear, something about Ghost getting chewed out by the NCO. You can barely muster a smile.

You stay still as the meeting finally ends, waiting for everyone to filter out before you finally turn around.

As you turn, your shoulder knocks into hard muscle and you look up, craning your neck to take in the hooded face and the way his pupils are blown wide into dark pits. A gale you should take shelter from lest you be blown away. But for a moment all you do is stand there, watching your own pupils expand in the turbulent reflection.

Your teeth are carving marks into your tongue by now, and it takes you far too long to draw in a shaky breath and push past him. You have more training tomorrow. It’s sleep your body needs. Not…whatever this is.

He doesn’t say a word as you depart, but his eyes track your every move before the door shuts behind you.

Of course this is a night where you can’t sleep. Of course. You flip and roll, hearing your bed frame smack against the wall every time you shift until you get so annoyed you shove it further into your room and flop down on it again. It doesn’t do anything, of course. Just makes your insomnia a little quieter.

It’s nearly midnight by the time you throw your legs over the side in frustration, shivering at the frigid air before throwing on enough clothes to look decent and marching down towards the shared kitchen.

He’s there. Your luck is just perfect tonight. You take a step backwards, planning to flee back to the darkness of the hallway, but he’s already turning his head, shoulders jumping just slightly as you enter his view.

You crumple a little as he notices you, but it’s too late to do anything about it now. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” Your voice is rough as you walk over to the counter next to him, yanking an expired box of cereal from the back of it. Your arm brushes his as you pull it out.

You spare him a glance as you pry the old box open, snorting at his narrowed eyelids. You bet he’s scrunching his nose through that silly hood, too. You reach in, hearing a series of crunches as you rifle around. “Ah, there it is.” You pull out the clear bottle, shaking it triumphantly in his face. “This’ll knock you right out. 50/50 chance you get back up tomorrow.” You trail off, eyes traveling up and down him. “Well, maybe a bit better odds for you.” You chuckle half-heartedly, but it dies a second later.

You puff your lips out in a shaky breath, running your tongue along your teeth before giving him an awkward smile and raising the bottle to him. With that you leave.

As soon as you take a sip you spit it right back out with a blech. You’d forgotten how nasty the stuff is. You toss it into the trash can and flop back down with an irritated groan. How hard is it to fall asleep? It’s literally laying there doing no-

Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door, and upon swinging it open you find him, his looming shadow nearly blotting out the light from the hallway behind. It’s easy to forget how big he is when he’s not around. How strong he is. How…deadly.

But right now he’s leaning against your doorframe, hands tapping along his legs. “Have enough for two?”

You smirk a little at that, but as you step closer you feel the heat radiating from him, your shoulder blades clenching together as your mind begins to process something.

You’d sleep better for it. Perform better the next day. It would be good for you.

Your smirk deepens. “I have a better idea.”

As your hand tangles in his shirt you feel a tremble along his skin, but he doesn’t respond when you pull on him. “You’ve been drinking.”

“I haven’t had a drop. Shit’s disgusting.”

“Show me the bottle.”

Despite yourself, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you fish the full monstrosity out of the bin to show him. He nods but still doesn’t move, and you find yourself rushing to assure him as heat rushes up your neck. “If you actually just want to drink, we can. We don’t have to do anything-”

“No. That’s not it.” Finally he steps fully into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him before he stalks to you. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you hiss, moving to hold onto him again, your mind swirling with exhaustion and old memories that you just need out, right now, and he’s right there and he needs it too, you just know it as he swoops down to grab you and toss you on the bed, both of you a mess to rip your clothes off now that the facade has finally fallen.

After the fog clears you find yourself panting on your stomach with him above you, caging you in with his forearms. Each of his stuttering inhales brings his burning chest and stomach against your back. Before the heat can become unbearable he pulls away, breaths still heaving as he tucks himself back into his pants.

Your eyes widen in surprise when he makes his way to your bathroom and comes back, washcloth in hand, to softly clean you up. As he finishes he pauses, thumb brushing the edge of an old knife scar running up your hip. “My callsign,” he murmurs, fingers tracing its length. “It’s König.”

And with that, he leaves.

You were content for that to be the end of it. You’d each gotten what you needed, after all. And as you stretch languidly across your mattress the following morning, an unfamiliar relaxation settles along your tense muscles. Yes, you would be more than happy to leave it at this.

But as the next training drill ends you find yourself faced with your cold barrack and the prospect of another sleepless night. Before you even realize what you’re doing your legs are moving, ready to go to the kitchen and-

He’s right there, startling as you nearly open your door into his face. He takes a step back, but you’re already holding your hand out and his eyes are burning into you as he takes it and lets you pull him in, lets you shut the door behind you before he’s lifting you with laughable ease and carrying you to bed.

You’re already burrowing your face into your pillow by the time he comes back to clean you up. This time his palm runs over a puckered mass on your thigh, a nasty burn scar from failing to dive for cover fast enough. It still hurts sometimes, but the pain is good. Reminds you not to be so careless again.

As you drift off completely to the feel of his warm hand taking in the old wound, you fail to notice the way his head has turned up, eyes running over your face. He contemplates brushing a finger over your hairline, tucking the wild flyaways behind your ear. But no. That would be too…friendly. That’s not what this is.

So instead he spreads your blankets over your now sleeping form, and with one last lingering gaze, leaves you to sleep peacefully.

You’re not surprised when you wake up to the empty room. It was what you wanted, after all. You had gotten another restful night out of it, and he got what he wanted. It was a fair trade. A great trade, even.

And as the training drills continue and you feel how naturally your body flows, how efficiently it executes your will when you’re actually well-rested, you find yourself seeking his company out more and more. Soon the pair of you have built your own kind of routine, him coming to you the evening after each debriefing when the leftover sparks of adrenaline are refusing to die out in you both.

He always lays you down on your stomach, opening you up with his fingers as he patiently works you through your first orgasm before letting himself take you. He’s always slow at first, but he finds you restless and impatient, urging him to go faster and harder, to knock you out for the night, to knock everything out of your mind that you never want to think about again.

You try to look back once only for your face to meet his hand. With gentle but firm fingers, he turns your head away.

Afterwards he’s even more delicate, wordlessly cleaning you up with a touch light enough to leave a butterfly unharmed. Although he rarely meets your eyes, his gaze and fingers take in your body, each time finding a new scar for his fingers to brush over like a chaste kiss.

You’re asleep by the time he leaves, and you like it that way. The two of you can crash against each other like blizzards raging and howling until you finally break into clear skies. And afterwards, you’re soldiers again. Well-rested, sure. But soldiers all the same. No hard feelings, either. You know he understands.

Soon you two find yourselves assigned to the same training team more and more. It’s natural, an unspoken communication flowing between you, and your superiors see it in the skyrocketing success rates. They pointedly ignore the way your stares burn holes into each other, keeping their eyes fixed on powerpoints and mission statistics. Not their business, they tell themselves. What matters is that you two do your jobs.

And then finally it’s time for the mission, a deployment in the middle of a remote and mountainous forest with terrible radio signal.

Like your first training, it starts easy enough. You’re divided into two teams on two separate mountains, and it’s just your luck that they put you on the team with no one you’re close to. Not even König. Maybe the higher-ups were finally sick of you two.

But you’re an adult. You handle it. You swallow the unease that comes with the teams not being able to contact each other. It’s simply too risky, and the signals are shoddy at best anyway. Base will come in for extraction if the other team succeeds.

With practiced ease you push yourself through two weeks of empty trails and summer-camp camaraderie as the talkative ones share jokes around the empty fireplace and the quiet ones listen from the shadows and chuckle their approval.

Week 3, everything goes to shit.

You should’ve known. You really should’ve known. The weather out here can change in an instant, clouds materializing from a clear sky’s empty expanse like an angry god throwing his rage down from above. You should’ve known the people here would be the same.

Before any of you knew the safehouse was surrounded, they were already through the doors.

You remember waking up to the creak of the old door with a groan, not ready to start your watch yet. The man on watch had been short and wiry, and you marveled at how shadows warp themselves against the light, twisting and turning to make one man look like another, tall and burly and carrying a-

CRASH!

The windows burst inwards in a crescendo of sparks and you’re scrambling backwards, reaching for your

BANG!

Dust from the roof is falling on your head, in your eyes and you’re blinking at the haze, the sting, your hands feeling the solid weight of your weapon and yanking it against you, and you’re stumbling backwards towards the

BANG!

and you’re stumbling forwards towards the

BANG!

And you’re on your knees crawling crawling

BANG! BANG BANG BANG!

crawling away from everything and your eardrums are hot iron seething in your skull and your eyes are being scratched by cats and there’s something warm on your face now and there’s something heavy thunking to the floor just next to you and everything is all dark, all the shadows are choking you and-

-grey. Not black. Not the black of the inside. Grey. A doorway. A hole in the wall. You’re on your knees, your hands are on the wall, you’re pushing yourself up, you’re running, and there are patters behind you and gurgling sounds and the volleys of automatic weaponry but your vision is finally starting to clear, you can see the treeline and all you need is to get there.

A roar surges behind you, and you spin into the sun. Heat slams into your body and you’re flung, a leaf in the wind, hard onto your back as yellows and reds surge in front of you or maybe it was behind you and now you’re a deer, eyeballs bulging out of your head and rolling in your skull as you run from a forest fire, angry and starving, only this fire has legs and they’re longer than yours and it’s following you, you just know it, you can’t hear it but you know.

You’re not a human anymore, you’re barely even an animal, you’re not thinking, you’re a scramble of limbs and an impulse. Run.

You try. You try so hard but there’s nothing carrying you, your legs don’t feel connected to each other anymore and they’re not even your legs you look down and they’re still there but you can’t…feel them?

Tilting. Tilting. Tilting.

Light. Burning light.

Fade to black.

No, wait. Not you. You’re still here. Your legs are wavy and jelly but still there.

You fling an arm out and feel something solid. Cold. Rough. Bark.

You made it to the trees.

There’s no time to celebrate. Behind you lights are still flaring, and with each passing second more bodies are falling to the ground, leaking out into the snow. You have to move.

The second safehouse is to the north. It’s your only way out, you know that. The rest of your team would be there.

Should be there.

Better be there.

Don’t think about it, don’t think. Just move.

The battle is fading behind you now and your blood is beginning to cool, settling heavy in your veins like the thick jam your mother used to make on warm summer mornings just as the sun’s rays flowed through your windows.

It would be nice to be there right now. Warm. Content. Full. Your stomach growls in agreement at the thought. You have some ration bars in your pocket, but you know it hasn’t been long enough to have one. You need to spread them out, make sure they can last.

Your stomach groans again, and you shake your head. To divert your attention, you take stock of the rest of your body.

You’re scraped and bruised, your head vibrating like…oh, what is it like? Like…your phone after you get added to a group chat you wanted nothing to do with. Hehe. You can barely remember the days when your problems were as simple as that.

You're letting yourself get too distracted. Anyways, as you were saying. You’re a bit battered and scraped up, alright. But no broken bones. No visible deadly wounds. And you still have your gun clamped to your chest with shaky arms. That’s all you need, really. Making it to the safehouse will be a breeze.

You’re halfway down the mountain as twilight begins to lighten to dawn, and there’s still no sign of anyone chasing you. It’s a bit warmer down here, and as you flex your fingers and toes you feel the sharp pins and needles radiate through them and force a smile. It’s good, you tell yourself. Means they’re all still there. You might just be in the clear now.

Then the sky darkens again, and it begins to rain.

Within a few minutes you can’t see your hand in front of your face in the downpour and you're forced to hide out. You find a fallen evergreen and burrow through its thick boughs, needles pricking your face and poking in your mouth with a sharp scent that settles behind your eyeballs as you force your way through, certain it will block out the worst of the rain. It doesn’t.

It’s past noon by the time the deluge finally lets up, and as you step out, cursing your shelter for all its faults, the slick earth shifts abruptly under you. With a cry, you are yanked off of your feet into a roll down the slope. You fling out your arms, grasping for anything solid, but the world is a mass of dirt and grey-brown snow-slush and you can’t stop yourself until your hip jams into a tree-stump. Hard.

You hiss, twisting your face upwards off the ground. Bad idea. The mud-slush runs down into your nose and you splutter, spasming and hacking up half the mountain. You move to wipe your eyes on your arm but only rub more dirt in them, gritting your teeth and hissing through them at the sting.

You push yourself onto your hands and knees with a whimper, gingerly feeling around your hip. Not broken. Just another bruise. What’s one more bruise? It’ll be fine.

You’ll be fine.

Your ankle is twisted. You’ve wrapped it as best as you can, but every time you put weight on it, you imagine a great big serpent with needles for scales is slithering under your skin, wrapping itself tight around the bones and squeezing.

Even worse, it's getting dark again. Fucking FUCK.

You should get yourself a thesaurus for Christmas. Fuck really doesn’t have much weight to it when you say it every other sentence.

Whatever. You’re fucking screwed.

Your clothes are soaked, you’re painted in dirt and runny snow and as soon as it gets dark temperatures are going to drop fast enough to freeze you right in place like a stupid fucking statue. Fuck this, fuck this so hard what do I do what do I do.

You bury your face into your hands, heels pressing hard into your eyes. It doesn’t matter that your hands have mud mittens anymore because your face is solid mud and you’ve had dark spots in your eyesight for hours and maybe if you rub them really hard this will all be a shitty dream your shitty brain made up and then you can wake up in your shitty cot with your blanket that’s too thin and it will be so fucking lumpy and uncomfortable and perfect. It would be perfect. Maybe König would be there.

What?

You’re breaking down and going to die in a few hours and you’re thinking of him? Some dude you fuck? What the hell is wrong with you?

He was really warm, though. And he was always so gentle afterwards. For hands that kill with such brutal precision, his fingers felt too delicate to be his when they ran along your body, mapping every scar and dimple like he was trying to memorize you. Like he was terrified that tomorrow he might wake up blind and never be able to see you again, so he needed to be able to recognize you by touch alone.

You didn’t even know what his face looked like, but you could get lost in those eyes, you think. You've learned that the skin above them stretches when he’s surprised, and the skin under them scrunches up when he laughs, so you think it must scrunch like that when he smiles, too. You’ve even seen the way his lids drift down to hide the way his eyes roll back when he’s bored.

What do they look like when he’s excited? When he’s angry? Sad?

You wonder what it would be like to look him in the eyes while you both fell apart. Would he look away and screw them shut? Would they water a little, as yours so often did?

Would he stay the night if you asked? Would he hold you? Would he…

No. This isn’t happening. No way in hell. You are not dying thinking of a random man you’ve barely spoken two words to. It’s ridiculous. It’s pathetic. You’re better than this.

You will not go out like this.

You yank yourself to a tree whose limbs burst forth in sprays of dark needles, your shoulders screaming at you as you pull yourself up on the branches, feeling like a toddler learning to walk for the first time. It’s pitiful. You swing your good leg up, grinding your teeth so hard your jaw pops as you pull yourself up to a thick fork and begin pulling down limbs above you, cutting through the ones around you, tying and weaving and undoing and redoing.

It is dark by the time you’ve finished, a thick nest of evergreen boughs settled under you and woven walls crushing you in. You have to curl into a tight ball to fit into it, but you can no longer feel the breezes from outside. You’ve stripped your clothes off and spread them along the walls as best you can, hoping they can dry just a little.

You thank the mud for clogging your nose. You don’t even want to imagine what you and your clothes must smell like by now.

Maybe by the time you meet up with the others you’ll smell so bad you’ll make one of the rookies vomit. Ghost did that last mission, and you and Soap nearly burst a lung as the poor guy emptied his guts over and over again.

You chuckle at that and try your best to fall asleep.

By the time you make it down the mountain the next day, your knees are knocking against each other with every step and your weapon is plastered with muddy slush that has frozen and melted and frozen all over again. The valley is even worse than the slope, with runoff from the rain congregating in a swampy mess that has you sinking up to your calves in some places. Lifting a leg in this feels like pulling yourself out of concrete, so you get really good at sliding each foot forward without raising it upwards at all.

You think the pressure from the mud is helping with the pain. You barely feel it when you move now.

Your jaw is clenched so hard you chip one of your molars.

You’re halfway through the valley when one of them finds you.

It’s funny how it happens. How you both stand in the mud staring at each other. How you both instinctively know who the other is through the curtain of earth camouflaging you both, yet each stand stock-still as statues anyway.

A second passes.

Two.

Three.

In an instant your guns are to your shoulders, fingers rushing to crush the-

Nothing happens. You squeeze. Squeeze again. The man shakes his gun and yells in frustration, the mud and ice having rendered your weapons unfireable.

But not unusable. The man’s head whips back to you with a growl and he lunges forward, his foot sinking into a deep patch and jerking him down face first. He throws himself up again, splatting forward another pace.

You slide backward, forcing yourself to slow down, to keep your feet under you as you move gut-wrenchingly slowly, searching for solid ground. He’s flailing and flinging himself towards you but the mud is slowing him down, and there’s a rocky patch right behind you. You’re going to make it.

He reaches you before you reach the edge, raising his gun and throwing his body behind a downwards blow. Yours is already coming up to deflect, but the blow sends you backwards, landing on your back with a splash. He’s on top of you, a hand shoving your face down as mud flows around it.

You thrash and wiggle, a scream cut off as your mouth fills with liquid dirt. Your hand is whirling all around and it catches something and you yank.

He howls as you pull his ear, sending him off-balance just enough to raise your head for a choking gasp before your palm is on his face, shoving him sideways. He rolls away from you, struggling to his feet as you’re on your hands and knees and your gun is in the mud but so is his. He tries to reach for it but he’s stuck, and in that precious heartbeat of time your legs are back under you, feet planted deep and wide.

He whirls towards you as you stand, throwing a punch at your torso that you know you can’t dodge, you can’t even move, so you throw your fist sideways, twisting, forcing all your strength into shoving from your rear leg so that when you catch his knuckles on your forearm they are savagely wrenched sideways with your momentum. His pinkie pops outwards with a crunch, and he falls back with a choked sob.

You grab your gun off the ground, throwing your whole body into a swing at his head, shattering through his palm as he tries to block it. You both fall sideways with the momentum but you find your feet faster, gripping the weapon through the slime coating it as you bring the stock straight down into his skull.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Your grip slides, dirt scraping more of your skin off with each blow, but he’s not moving. You stumble backwards drunkenly, falling onto your forearms again and army-crawling, gun held tightly in each hand, all the way to the edge. You flop on your back then, one eye on the body, and heave great breaths, coughing again and again until your body has enough and you curl inwards, choking out mud and throwing up even more. You try to even your breathing, try to filter the adrenaline out of your system so you don’t crash. In, out. In, out. In out in out inoutinoutinoutinoutin-FUCCCCCKK. You shake your head violently, over and over.

You take one last look at the body, only seeing it because you know where to look. A mud-covered shoulder pokes out of the ground, the rest already lost.

You can’t balance on your feet anymore, so you crawl away.

You don’t even bother to make a shelter that night. You crawl under a rotting log, ripping your last ration bar from your pocket and devouring it, licking the crumbs from your stained and tainted fingers. You curl up and fall asleep just like that, bones chattering and muscles spasming.

Helicopter blades wake you up in the morning. You’re on your feet, falling and jumping and running and falling, flailing your arms because you know those blades, that’s your team and they’re here for you and you’re finally free, you did it you did it you’re so proud of yourself you can’t wait to have a warm bath and then maybe even afterwards you can see-

The helicopter passes over you and disappears around the mountain.

You stare at it, deathly still. It’s just sweeping the area, making sure it’s safe to land.

But the wingbeats have already faded into the distance, replaced by a vast and engulfing silence. Time stretches out before you, and you’re still staring at the mountain.

Your stomach breaks the silence with a gurgle.

You flop down, shoving your face into the ground, and scream.

You press the button on your radio, cracking the caked mud. It clicks, and you hear nothing. Not even static. You click it again. And again, this time just to hear the sound. Rapidly you click it again and again and again.

You start laughing, your abs clenching and strangling your organs as you guffaw, thrashing around like a headless chicken, and thinking about yourself as a headless chicken makes you laugh even louder. Everything is just so funny, none of this is real, you’re on the Truman Show, you’re the biggest comedy in the world. It’s even funny that your laughter only comes out in squeaky wheezes. It’s all just a big joke. Haha. You can’t wait to tell someone.

You fall asleep just like that, grinning up at the sky with dirt in your teeth.

You wake up, stare into the sun, and go back to sleep.

You feel lighter.

Is this what it feels like to leave your body?

It’s not as bad as you thought.

You wonder if König will remember you.

The ground beneath you is moving, sliding under you and scraping along you.

There's no ground underneath you at all now, and something is pressing, and you feel your legs dangling and swinging all around you, the world spinning a jig and you the unwilling passenger. You think you might tell it to stop, but it doesn't listen to you.

You're yanked back into consciousness by a thundering vibration setting every bone against itself. You jolt upwards, feeling heavy pressure on your shoulders as your eyes roll back into your head. The world is black. Black and blue and blurred. Through the haze you begin to make out a white visage and two black voids that pierce through you.

This must be hell. You don’t want to be awake for your judgement.

Your consciousness drifts away again, blocking out the rumbling flight of the helicopter, completely oblivious to the warm bodies pressed in around you, speaking rapidly through their headsets.

Any more? Sweep around again.

There's nothing else here.

Ok. Let's bring these ones back, then.

You are still asleep as your body is carried into a hospital room, completely unresponsive as the nurses strip and bathe you with clinical precision. You don’t wake until hours later, seeing only a single nurse checking your vitals and bandages. Each hand and foot has been carefully wrapped, the angry red battlefield of blisters and exposed flesh meticulously covered in pristine, unblemished white. The nurse offers a smile as you fight through the haze, imagining you are underwater and slowly floating to the surface, watching the sun jiggle and warp through the abyss above you. Just bad blisters, the nurse is telling you. Very lucky. Very lucky. You think you might nod back. She’s right, of course. You’re alive, aren’t you?

Ghost comes by as you’re released the next day. They’ve rewrapped your hands in a bandage that gives you a little more flexibility, and he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into the white fabric.

The mattress shifts as he settles beside you. He doesn’t say a word, but his eyes are trained on you. Black voids in a mask of white.

“You left me,” you finally whisper, eyes still on your hands.

“What?”

You look at him, trying to see something in the face to get mad at, but his eyes are just a little wider than before. Confused, maybe.

“The helicopter…” you begin, voice scratchy, and clear your throat. “The helicopter flew right over me.”

“That wasn’t our helicopter.”

“It was heading back from the safehouse.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Oh,” you huff, sinking into yourself. “I…”

You stop as he clears his throat, shoulders expanding in a loud breath. “It’s alright. You were knocked out pretty good by the time our boys found you. Happens to the best of us.”

You nod, swallowing again, and wish someone else was here to comfort you, literally anyone but Ghost. “Is…uh…is…umm…is Soap ok?”

Ghost grunts. “Johnny took one to the arm, but he’ll pull through. I was just going to visit him now.”

You push yourself to your feet, proud that you only sway a bit. “Can I-”

“No,” Ghost cuts you off. “You’ll have time to visit him later. For now you need to go and rest. That’s an order,” he cuts you off as you open your mouth to protest. Your jaw shuts. Call it obedience, call it cowardice, but you find you just don’t have it in you to argue the point. You promise yourself you’ll see Soap in the morning. Well, later in the morning, seeing as it’s somehow 0100 hours already.

When Ghost leaves you slump, any need for straight posture gone with the departure of your superior officer. Trying to keep your breathing even, you will your legs to carry your body down the medical corridor. Just a little longer, you promise them, then you’ll get the break you deserve. But your body has had enough of your unfulfilled promises, and you find yourself forced to sink onto one of the shitty metal chairs littering the hallway. Just a little rest, and then I’ll go back to my quarters.

You wake to the familiar sounds of agony. Before your body has the chance to disagree, instinct has you on your feet again, hands grabbing at the thin air where your sidearm should be. My holster, my holster, where the hell is-

Your eyes land on the white-washed walls. Too clean. Too smooth. And your hands aren’t moving like they should, strangled by white fabric. It finally sinks in that you’re far from the battlefield, far from any fight.

The sounds continue, drawing your eye to one of the many nondescript doors lining the corridor. Someone having a nightmare, probably. Or reacting badly to a procedure, maybe. Either way, a problem best left for the nurses with their iron wills and their tranquilizers. You have enough bruises already. Best not add a black eye to the list.

A pitiful whimper sounds through the door, one that has your heart twisting like a towel being wrung out, sending all the blood to your throat and stomach.

Fuck it. What’s one more bruise?

Your fingers curl the handle down, and you shrink in on yourself as the door swings open on its own with a creak. You catch it and hastily shut it behind you, trying not to make any more noise.

The room is small enough that even the military-issue cot feels too big for it. The room is made even smaller by the man lying in the cot, arms dangling off the sides as he thrashes, his feet hanging off the end. You can see the crumpled blanket on the floor and automatically avert your eyes. The hood is still on, but below it he’s wearing an undershirt and boxers, and you realize this is the most of him you’ve ever seen.

You press yourself to the wall as he spasms again, a leg kicking out and narrowly missing you, causing you to notice the thick white bandage wrapped around his thigh, and the dark line slowly being painted along it.

Hesitantly you flick the lights on, wincing at the burn that rushes through your eyeballs, but he doesn’t even react to it. You have no idea how to wake him up without breaking a bone, so you press your back to the wall, slowly skirting along the edge of the room and staying as far out of his reach as you can, praying to whatever old ghosts are listening that he doesn’t wake up and go straight into murder mode. Or, you know, default alert soldier setting. This is a stupid idea.

As you approach his head you lean over as far as you can, stretching one arm out until the socket pops in protest. You poke his shoulder and leap back.

Nothing.

You take a step closer and lean in again.

You’re immediately interrupted by the door swinging open with a much-louder creak. You and the nurse both pause and stare at each other for a moment, startled, and you sheepishly move to straighten and pull your arm back.

With viper-like speed an arm shoots out to grab your wrist, capturing it in a deadly grip and you yelp, whirling back to the man in the bed and raising your opposite arm.

You freeze when you see his eyes, so wide they’re more white than color. He’s stock-still, fixated on you like a mouse caught in a cat’s gaze. Paralyzed by fear, praying. Shaking.

His hand is…shaking. “Hey, hey,” you coax, hesitantly pulling your arm back in so you can place it over his fingers. “It’s just me, big guy. You’re safe.”

His chest heaves outwards, and you feel his hand relax a little before his head snaps towards the nurse as she takes a step closer, cradling something small and cylindrical in her hands. “It’s alright,” she speaks directly to you. “I can take it from here.”

König releases the breath he’s held, shoving himself backwards on the bed with a shake of his head, prompting the nurse to click her tongue at him before raising the needle. You realize it’s a lot bigger than you first thought. “You’ll be fine,” she’s assuring him. “It will hurt a lot less once it’s done.”

König’s head turns very slowly, back up to you, and for a second you’re confused at his gaze, wondering why he thinks you have enough knowledge to give him any medical advice. Then you notice the way his eyes seem just a little too shiny in the light, the way his other hand is clenching and unclenching around the bedsheet.

You’ve always known him as the perfect soldier, quick and to the point, pin-prick precise, a dancing whirlwind of death. More monster than man. You know him as the one who laughs with every good kill, mocking the reaper of death with a smile. Look at how slow you are. I got here first. He’s the one who dances on the precipice of fate and spits over the edge.

Even sprawled out like this, sweaty and trembling, you are well aware of every flex of his muscles, of the strength he holds back in his grip. Yet as you look into the eyes of the storm you find that for the first time you see no hint of the giddy killing machine looking back at you. The eyes staring back at you from this big soldier’s body are those of a fragile little kid. And he’s terrified.

You gulp, your tongue catching on the back of your throat. “Yeah…yeah, it’ll be ok. I’ll be right here.”

Finally he relaxes, slumping back into the bed, and the nurse takes the opportunity to give him the shot. You feel his flinch in a wave of pressure radiating up your wrist and forearm, but his gaze doesn’t move. He keeps looking into your eyes until his own begin to droop and he sinks even further into the mattress.

Before his hand drops from your wrist you catch it, the skin under your bandages protesting at the sudden flexion. You choose to ignore it, settling down on the floor next to his bed as your own eyes begin to follow his. Even as your head falls into your knees and your body finally gives itself completely over to darkness, you refuse to let go.

You’re woken by something warm trailing along your hairline. You jerk, smacking the back of your head into the wall with an irritated grunt. König’s arm hovers in the air just in front of your face, and you turn to see him pressed to the edge of the bed, looking a little guilty. “Sorry,” he murmurs.

You should be, startling me like that, you want to say. But when you open your mouth, what comes out instead is “No, it’s ok, I just…I wasn’t expecting it.”

König gulps audibly, and the cot creaks as he pulls his hand back, shifting his body even closer. “You stayed.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Never,” he hisses, and you find yourself staring into his eyes again, only this time they’ve taken on their old torrential intensity.

Now it’s yours that are as wide as a child’s. You gulp, feeling the muscles of your jaw flex and unflex. “Ok,” you finally murmur. “I’ll stay.”

And you do. For two more nights König stays in the infirmary, weathering the steady rounds of nurses and bandage changes with a steely resolve even as his fists flex and twist into the sheets. You stay with him all the while, but he doesn’t reach for your hand again, not after noticing your own bandages.

The second night you sleep in the cot next to him at his insistence. You’re hurt too, he reasons. You need a real bed to rest in. He scoots himself to the back edge to give you room, and when you wake up he hasn’t moved.

After the third night you wake to his hand resting on your arm. It’s a small gesture. Innocent even. Yet still you find yourself contemplating it, barely saying a word as the nurses come to remove his bandages. You grind your jaw as you take in the puckered line of stitches running from his knee up to the edge of his boxers, looking away politely as the nurses help him into a pair of sweatpants.

You don’t even say anything when you let him lean on your shoulders, using your own aching body as a sacrificial lamb to transport him back to his barrack. Once you get him into bed you hover in the doorway, taking in the shadows of the walls, twisting your wrists back and forth, a habit you picked up to alleviate the pain from flexing your fingers. They’re in even thinner bandages now, but you’d rather be safe than sorry.

Maybe there’s nothing to say. You found him in a vulnerable situation where he needed a lifeline. It could have been anyone, he was barely lucid. Now he surely wanted to forget all of that vulnerability and go back to a time where he hadn’t needed help from anyone. Not even you. Especially not you. He was a soldier, after all. Fondness wasn’t in the job description.

Best not to say anything then. Just…leave and get this over with. Just like that. Yeah…easy. Really easy.

Your move to shut the door behind you is halted by him calling your name. Your real name. You didn’t even know he knew your name.

He calls it again, quieter this time, and you lean back in the door, eyes drifting across his room to him. He’s still sitting on the bed where you left him, only now he’s hunched over to rest a forearm on his good thigh. “Come back here,” he breathes, voice cracking, and it hits you right in your stomach, settling there like a wounded bird, flapping and screeching at you to stay away, you’re already in too deep, you don’t know how this will end.

But it’s too late. You’re walking forward, the door swinging shut behind you. Locked. You’re already reaching out for the hand he offers, only for him to reach past the bandages and grab your wrist. You pause at that, staring into the hazy depths of his eyes, pupils bursting for you again. Slowly, inch by excruciating inch, he straightens again, face coming closer to yours as another hand snakes around your neck to help guide you down to straddle his good thigh, moving your forearms to rest on each of his shoulders.

The bird in your stomach has moved to your chest, and you’re positive he can feel your heavy breathing even through his mask with how close you are. His eyes look down to your lips, and you wonder if he is going to lift his hood up and kiss you, your cheeks flushing in anticipation as he leans forward.

Only instead he rests his forehead against yours, eyes drifting closed. You feel your arms drift upwards with his inhale. “Stay with me,” he exhales. “One more night.”

You nod against his forehead, wrapping your arms around his neck and finally letting your own eyes close. Your breathing is slowed down now, and you find yourself enjoying the warmth you feel radiating from everywhere you touch him. One of his hands has spread against your thigh, while the other still rests along your neck, thumb tracing up and down your jaw. You know you could fall asleep just like this.

König, however, has other ideas. As you slump even further to him, both of his hands drift to your hips. You notice the movement, sighing at the pleasant sensation of his hands running over your body. You don’t notice the intention until he takes a deep breath, and in one smooth motion he has stood and twisted to lay you down on the bed, climbing on top of you. You gasp, feeling your heart stutter all over again, blood rushing to your core as you feel the fabric of his hood rub up your neck. His nose, you think.

Fuck, you want him. You want him just like this and any other way he’s willing to give, but you can’t, you shouldn’t, and you know you have to at least try to protest. You bite back a whimper as a hand drags up your inner thigh. “König, your leg.”

“I don’t care,” he growls. “Say my name again.”

You groan in protest and he pulls back, tilting your face up to his. “Is this not what you want?” He feels the way your jaw flexes and pulls away.

“Wait. No. I want this. You. I want you. Just…please be careful.”

He hears the last part, but he’s past giving a damn about his own body now. His hand is already undoing your belt and he’s leaning back to ease your pants and underwear off your legs, lazily tossing them to the side.

A harsh word escapes his throat as he looks down at you, but you don’t catch it through the blood rushing in your ears. “Close your eyes,” he orders, and unthinkingly you do, another growling swear reaching your ears. “So obedient for me.”

You hear the shuffling of fabric and feel a hand wrap around one of your knees, lifting it up for a warm tongue to swirl along the inside of it, for wet lips to place a sloppy kiss just above where his tongue had just been. His lips slide up again, and this time he sucks on the skin just slightly, and you feel your leg tremble as a tiny moan escapes you, but he’s already moving further up and this time sucking harder, and then further and harder and further and harder until he’s against your inner thigh and his teeth are sinking into you and you yelp his name, whining in frustration as he pulls back.

“No,” you pant, “don’t stop. Please.”

You feel a chuckle rumble in his throat and his nose presses into the bottom of your slit. You jolt, squeezing your eyes tighter as it slides up through you before pressing into your sensitive spot, and he inhales.

“Fuck,” you cry, tangling your hands in the sheets only to choke on a sound of pain.

König pulls back immediately and you shake your head at him, a sob on the edge of your quivering lips.

“Easy. Watch your hands.”

You grit your teeth and nod, relaxing your fingers and turning your palms up.

“Good,” he purrs as his hands hook under the backs of your knees, easily throwing your legs over his shoulders. As he settles back down you feel the muscles in his back flexing against your calves and moan before his mouth is even on you.

He hums contentedly at the sound, running his tongue along the length of you before swirling it around your clit. His lips pucker against it and he sucks, pulling away with a soft pop that has you clenching your legs around him. He moves in again, lazily altering between sucking and tracing his tongue just around your bud, feeling the way you flex against him, hearing the way you react to each movement, and committing all of it to memory before shifting his head so he can dip his tongue inside you. He groans at the taste, the vibration of it radiating up under your ribs and down through your legs. You’re quiet now, feeling how close you are settling heavy over you, drowning you in deliciously sweet honey.

He feels the shaking of your legs around him and returns to your clit as he slowly works a finger into you, curling it upwards to stroke at the spongy part inside of you.

You break quietly, choking on his name as the pleasure strangles your muscles and sets them briefly aflame, fresh sensations flowing through you as he continues to touch you just so, only pulling away when you sink into the mattress and your legs slip from his shoulders.

You hear the bed frame creak as he pulls back, running a hand up your thigh before the shifting sound of fabric hits your ears, and you feel the mattress sink down in different places as he shifts.

“Open your eyes.”

You do as he says, your disappointment at seeing the sniper’s hood obscuring his face immediately squashed by the realization that the rest of him is completely naked.

You’re seeing him for the first time.

Fucking hell, what a sight.

Your eyes rest on the delicious curve of his cock first, marveling at the pink tip and the thick veins running along it. You had felt his size on plenty of occasions, but seeing it for the first time is a new beast entirely, one that has you biting your lip and wiggling your hips like a teenager all over again.

But soon your eyes are taken in by the strong curves of muscle outlining his hips, and your eyes are traveling upwards to the delicious bulges of his chest, your own heaving at the sight. You find yourself wanting to trace the outline of each hill and valley of muscle that flows along his shoulders, down his arms, to the hands, wanting to run your tongue along the veins like raised rivers spreading down his forearm and across the back of each hand.

You wonder what his back looks like. You wonder how the muscles of his neck shift as he moves, what the outline of his jaw is shaped like. You are greedy and want to take everything he has, and at the same time you are desperate for anything he can give you. You’re a peasant kneeling at the feet of your king, ready to lick the crumbs he throws you off the floor.

His head tilts playfully, breaking you out of your reverie. “You like what you see?”

Your chuckle catches in your chest, only a tiny puff of air leaving your mouth. “Yes.”

His eyes scrunch a little, and you imagine he is grinning as he leans over, balancing himself above you. He moves back a bit, hand adjusting your hips as he positions himself. He looks back up at you, and you nod eagerly, your hands reaching up to grab his shoulders. He clicks his tongue, glancing at them, and with a groan you put your hands above your head. He moves one of his own to grasp your wrists, keeping them pinned as he sinks onto his forearms.

You feel the head of his cock running up and down your folds, and instinctively bend your back to give him a better angle, earning an approving hum that makes you even wetter. But as he braces himself and begins to drive into you, a strangled sound smashes through his gritted teeth.

Oh no. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t answer, only pressing his face into your neck, inhaling heavily as you feel his entire body stiffening against you. “It’s…it’s fine,” he hisses, his hand strangling your wrists. “Just …” he heaves another breath. “Ah... Ich… I…need a…moment.”

You sigh, wiggling a hand out of his grip to push his chin up. He lets you move his face back, and even in the dim light you can see the way the skin around his eyes has gone even paler than normal. “Get off,” you murmur.

He slumps, twisting his face out of your grip and keeping his eyes on the wall. He stays like that for a second before giving a swift nod and pulling out, maneuvering backwards on the bed and moving to get off.

“Wait!” you burst out, and he freezes. “That’s not what I meant.”

After another moment he looks at you in bewilderment, so you sit up and shift to the side, patting the bed next to you. Awkwardly, he crawls to it, nearly dragging his bad leg, stiffening again when you place your wrists on his shoulders. “Let me?”

After a second of staring into your eyes, he nods again, allowing you to push on him, laying him on his back before you straddle him and finally take your shirt off. You see his chest rise with a shuddering breath and before you really think about it you’re leaning down to lick a stripe up his sternum. Seeing his pecs jerk upwards on either side of your tongue emboldens you and you shift your head, running your tongue back down to circle over one of his nipples before you suck.

Immediately the muscles flex again and he pushes up into you. “Like that,” he snarls, loud and vibrating through your skull. You’re aching down there again, but you’re not done yet. You release him with a squelch, watching the patch of saliva glisten before moving to give the other nipple the same treatment, your heart leaping at the sounds falling from his mouth as he quivers under you.

“König,” you croon. “Touch me.”

He whimpers as you flick your tongue over the sensitive bud. “Where?”

“Anywhere. Grab my hair, squeeze my tits, just put your hands on me.”

You groan as he obeys, long fingers tangling tightly in your hair as his other hand spreads along your ribcage, thumb sliding over your breast. You sigh, leaning down to bite into his pec, moaning as his grip on you tightens. You kiss the mark left by your teeth before leaning back. His hands move to cup both of your breasts as you raise yourself up and sink down onto his cock. You’re too excited and you go too fast, and a sharp pinch of pain seizes at your entrance. You gasp, instinctively leaning forward to brace yourself on your palms, but his hands move to your waist, catching you before you hurt them any further.

“I have you,” he whispers, voice scratchy, and despite the pain you clench at the sound of what you do to him. He chokes on his next words, a groan coming out instead. “Do you need to get off?”

“No!” You whisper-yell back so quickly that he laughs, and despite everything you laugh with him. He runs his hands up and down your sides, feeling you start to relax a little, but not enough yet. “Tell me what you need,” he murmurs.

“It’s fine.” You close your eyes and try to focus on your breathing. “Just need…a moment.”

“Hypocrite.”

You shoot your eyes open to glare at him, only to see his chest shake with another chuckle at your scrunched-up angry face. “Your leg is sliced open, it’s not the same,” you scoff.

His eyes glimmer with the start of a witty retort before one of his hands freezes over your bottom rib, drawing his lovely gaze away from yours. His thumb is circling around a tiny hairline of a scar, bone-white and soft. You’ve already forgotten how you got it.

“This one,” he murmurs. “It is new.”

“How…how did you notice?”

“It wasn’t there last time.” His tone was quiet and matter-of-fact, like the answer was obvious, and it takes you back to every time his hands ran over you as you drifted into sleep. How long did he stay there after you fell asleep? How long did it take him to commit you to memory so well that a patch of skin even you had forgotten was instantly recognized as something new?

Your body has always been a means to an end, a vehicle carrying you rather than a full part of you. Batter it, toss it around, whatever you need to do to get the job done. And when your body protests, you treat it like any other tool you can beat into submission. Like your first battered old car that revved to life with a well-placed kick.

But now all you can think of is his hands running over you with thorough determination, acknowledging each new mark with a gentle reverence that was more than you deserved. Getting to know you in the only way he knew how.

For the first time in a long time, you’re reminded to see this body as something more than a bruised vessel you’re obligated to carry around. He reminds you to see it as something more.

Fuck, you think you might love him.

“König?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

His head tilts a little, his hand still running along your rib, and your cheeks flush.

Before he can reply, you gulp a little. “I…I think I’m ready.”

He hums again, his hands moving back to rest on your hips. You stay still for another moment, looking into his eyes. You don’t think you can memorize his body, not like he has yours. But you have memorized his eyes, have burned them into your mind so clearly you saw them even as you were trapped on that damned mountain. Thinking about him.

And now you think he might've been thinking about you, too.

You feel him twitch inside of you, pulling you out of your thoughts. Taking a deep breath, you raise yourself up slowly, feeling his hands tighten and take some of your weight, following your lead as you sink into him again, this time with a sigh that echoes his own. Slowly, hesitantly, you raise yourself up and down, feeling how easily he stretches you, how easily he could break you.

But he never has. The only pain you’ve gotten from him was caused by your own impatience. As you keep going, finding an angle that has him dragging across your most sensitive parts and making you even wetter, you become confident that there’s no chance of pain, allowing yourself to speed up.

His hands are steady as ever, guiding you up and down, but beneath you his shoulders and chest begin to squirm and heave. His eyes wander all around, and his breaths are scattered and staccato.

And his sounds. You’d never known a man to be so loud, and now you know you’ve been missing out all these years. Every grunt, every groan, every moan and whimper goes straight through your core, winding you up faster and faster. As you get closer his sounds shift, and you realize he’s started to stutter out words.

His eyes are hazy and unfocused but you can still tell they’re trained on you, and you urge your body to calm down for just a minute longer, just long enough to hear what he’s saying.

You can’t make out any of the words, but his hands are even tighter on you now and the way his voice shifts from growling to whimpering settles into a melodic language that has you crying out for him anyway.

Beneath your trembling body, he keeps going. “Never..told you …du bist wie ein Traum,” another whimper leaves his lips. “Ich kann nicht glauben, dass du wirklich hier bist.” He gasps as you clench tighter around him. “Du bist…du…Du bist viel zu gut für mich…Dein Lächeln und …und…” His eyes are watering and you slow down only for his hands to dig into you, urging you to speed up again. “Ich weiß nicht wie ich dich loslassen soll aber du verdienst so viel mehr als …”

His mind is lapsing again, his determined confession faltering into a fervent prayer sent to the only god he’s ever believed in, to you - moving over him and taking everything he is giving you, making him wish he had more, so much more than the desert-dry heart of a killer whose hands can only ever pull things apart. His thumb is over the scar on your rib again and his blurry vision is taking in the white of the bandage wrapped around your hands and it has him wishing his own hands could build something instead of destroy it just so he could put you back together again. You’re coming apart around him, crying his name, and he’s thinking of flinging his body in front of you, taking every bullet and blade meant for you, because his body is all he has to give and he knows how to sacrifice it, he knows he’ll gladly lay it at your altar, bloody and broken, if it could only mean making sure he’d never be surprised by a new scar again. Maybe you’d even remember him a little when he was gone.

He’s trying to tell you all of that, the messy syllables punching through his throat. “Niemals, niemals, nie,…” but before he can finish he’s failing already, falling apart under you and screaming your name and emptying everything he has into you.

It’s not enough.

You’re laying on top of him now and he tries his best to be gentle but his entire body is shaking as he rolls you off and staggers to his bathroom, slamming the door behind him and sinking against it.

He shatters in a whole-body-wracking sob.

You’re never going to look at him again.

He tucks his legs in, squeezing his knees into his chest, squeezing even harder as a burn radiates out from the stitches, trying to rein in his ragged breathing in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, he can save this and cover up the fact that he’s crying.

It was just meant to be casual sex. He wasn’t supposed to start caring. That’s not what you wanted. It’s not fair to you. It’s not your fault he let himself get emotional. And now he’s ruined the only thing you two did have, he wanted to make you feel better and now he’s made you so uncomfortable and…and…

He slams his forehead into his knees and sobs again.

He’s pathetic. Pathetic to think this could be something more. Pathetic to think he could have something more.

Everything hurts.

That’s what he signed up for, isn’t it?

That’s what he deserves.

A knock on the door has his head jerking back up, hands clutching his knees hard enough the knuckles just might pop through the skin. “Go away!”

“No.” Your tone is flat as he hears a thunk against the other side of the door, imagining you leaning against it and sliding down, mirroring him perfectly. “Not until you talk to me.”

“No.”

You sigh. “That's how it’s gonna be? Well, in that case, to quote a man I…admire very much, I can make you talk.” You drop your voice, trying and failing to mimic his battle growl.

He snorts despite himself.

You take that as a cue to continue. “For one, I’m not leaving until you do. You’ll be stuck with my annoying-ass voice forever.”

“I like your voice.”

“Oh…umm…thank you. In that case I’ll…I’ll steal all your knives and I’ll draw a kangaroo on your door and-”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he growls.

“Guess you’ll never know if you keep that door closed. And that’s not all, I’ll…I’ll steal those cheap chocolates we get every supply drop. Don’t deny it, I know everyone joked it was Ghost but I saw you take them all. You love those.” You smile, laughing a little. “On the other hand, I’ll fly to Austria right now if that’s what it takes to get some chocolate you’d really like. I’d even get you some of those waffle things you were telling Soap about that one time I caught you both raiding the snack cabinets. Well, I’d probably eat some of those. But I promise to save most of them for you. Just…please talk to me. I’ll…I’ll…” you’re cut off by your own squeak as the door opens and you fall backwards.

His hands are already there to catch you, and once you sit back up he stays there, half-crouched and awkward, eyes anywhere but your own.

Slowly, you open your arms, watching his head turn back to you.

In an instant he’s lunged into you, burrowing his face into your neck with an awkward grunt as he stretches his bad leg out to the side. You try to change to a comfier position for him but the man is like a brick wall.

It’s nice.

So you let yourself stay there, wrapping around him as he wraps around you on the hard floor. It’s a softness unknown to you both, two soldiers carved razor-sharp from solid steel. But as you let yourself sink into him, you find yourself liking the strange tranquility of this moment, the way two bodies made for war can still drape over each other and feel peace instead. Against all better judgement, against any scrap of common sense you have left, you find yourself yearning for a few less battles if it can mean more of this. You let your eyes close, imagining it for just a little while.

After a while, he pulls back, moving to lean against the wall and pulling you so you can balance on his uninjured thigh. You let your head loll onto his shoulder, face turned into the hood. His chin rests on your temple.

“Are you cold?”

He grunts noncommittally, eyes half-closed. “Are you?”

“Nooo,” you mumble, burrowing into his neck. He shifts, maneuvering you off his lap, only to grunt when he tries to push on his leg.

“I got it.” You push yourself up, moving to the bed to retrieve one of the blankets there, carefully wrapping it around both of your torsos when you settle back onto his lap. Your legs stick out, but you don’t really care.

After a while you feel his heartbeat begin to pick up again and adjust yourself to look up at him. His eyes drift to you before he sighs. “Do you…still want me to talk?”

You nod.

“Alright then. I will talk. I do not think it is what you want to hear.”

You bite your lip and try to keep your breathing steady as he continues.

“Back in the med bay. No. Before that.” He shakes his head emphatically. “When we were assigned to two different groups…No…Scheiße, I…”

You run a shaky hand up and down his chest. “It’s okay. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

His fingers dig into you for a fraction of a second, so quick you think you might have imagined it before his entire body is deflating, his head settling back against the wall. “They ambushed us. You weren’t there but…they hit us on patrol, hit us and ran before we could counter. I did not even see who hit me, I just look up one moment and down the next and the snow is all red and…” His voice drops to barely a whisper “Das war meines.” He trails off completely, a finger tracing circles on your shoulder. “I've been wounded before. I've accepted death before. This time...before I...while I was…” he exhales another irritated sigh. “I was on the ground and…wie sag ich das…ich hab versucht etwas zu tun, mich zu bewegen aber alles was ich tun konnte...I was thinking of you.”

He freezes, turning his head away and dropping his hands from you. But instead of moving away, you kiss a patch of skin just outside the hood, watching the muscle under it jump. “Is that all you want to tell me?”

He shakes his head.

“Do you think you can keep going?”

His head turns back to you briefly before he tilts it up to stare at the ceiling. “When I was in the med bay. Well, I…it went like this. I wake up and you are there and I think, König this is it, now you are finally dead. And then I feel the pain and I see the nurse and you were moving away and I couldn't…du warst da und dann warst du fast nicht mehr da und ich konnte nicht atmen. Ich…” he shakes his head back and forth, back and forth. “Ich konnte nicht ohne dich. Ich…needed you to stay.” His head jerks down again, eyes boring into yours with all the intensity of a tornado, arms wrapping around you once again. “I need you to stay.”

You nod, holding him tight, the weight of the words unspoken tangling in your chest and constricting your tongue. Stay. With me. He won't ask for more than tonight, not when neither of you can even risk asking for a tomorrow. Stay with me. For as long as you have. A day, maybe. A month. Maybe you'll get out of this mess someday and get years.

Stay with me for a lifetime. Whatever lifetime we get.

You nod, whispering a promise into his skin. Always. Your fingers drift down along his leg, tracing just outside the stitches, your eyes following the line of gooseprickles that rise in their wake.

You feel more than you hear your name being whispered into your hair, and as you look up fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding it up over his hip, his ribs, his chest. Sliding around the edge of the hood, pushing it up, up, up. Until the fabric slides off. You gaze in awe, watching his jaw flex as his lips part to form a word whose sound hides in the back of his throat. Always. You look back into his eyes before surging forward, hugging him tight, tight enough to strangle, you think, but he’s already wrapping himself around you with equal fervor.

“You know,” you murmur, breath ruffling his hair, “if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

He huffs a laugh, the air catching in his lungs with a choking sound. His grip tightens.

When you wake you find you’ve been moved to the bed, but his face is still buried in your neck, unmoving despite the soft light filtering in your window. You smile a little, watching the early-morning sky, perfectly clear and pale blue.

It matches his eyes.

---

German Translations

du bist wie ein Traum: You are like a dream

Ich kann nicht glauben, dass du wirklich hier bist: I can’t believe you are here

Du bist viel zu gut für mich: You are too good to me

Dein Lächeln und…: You smile and…

Ich weiß nicht wie ich dich loslassen soll aber du verdienst so viel mehr als: I don't know how I am supposed to let go of you (eventually) but you (clearly) deserve so much more than me

Niemals, niemals, nie: never again, never again, never

Scheiße: shit

Das war meines: it was mine

wie sag ich das: how do I say this

ich hab versucht etwas zu tun, mich zu bewegen aber alles was ich tun konnte: I tried doing something, moving, but all I could do

du warst da und dann warst du fast nicht mehr da und ich konnte nicht atmen. Ich…: you were there and then you nearly weren’t there and I could not breathe. I…

Ich konnte nicht ohne dich. Ich…: I couldn’t without you. I…

#könig #könig call of duty #cod #cod mwii #könig x reader

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cameronspecial · 3 months

Text

Assisting In Deception (Part 6)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Heavy Make Out and Mentions of Sexual Thoughts.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.9K

Summary: Y/N's jealousy leads them to some office fun and Rafe surprises her outside of work.

Masterlist

Sofia Fiore is one of Cameron Developments' most important clients. Having a social media following of twenty-six million, the up-and-coming social star is good for business. This means that when she asked to speak to Mr. Cameron personally, she got her request granted. It’s no secret that Rafe is a young and attractive individual, and she makes it quite obvious that she thinks exactly that. Rafe sits rigidly at his desk while Sofia’s shoulders are relaxed against the back of her chair and she crosses one leg over the other. They stretch out so that her feet graze Rafe’s shoes under his desk. Y/N begins to grow annoyed at Sofia’s high-pitched voice.

“And I want it to be done by next year. I need somewhere pretty to entertain all of my male guests,” she notes, eyebrows raised in a suggestive manner. Rafe ignores the obvious suggestion of her words, “I can assure you that we will do our best to finish it on time. Now, you said you wanted something in Manhattan. I can take a look after the meeting at different properties for sale and go over the possibilities in another meeting.” Sofia nods at his statements and he can feel her heeled foot, going up his leg. He straightens even more and moves Sofia’s foot off of him. Unbeknownst to the two, Y/N is standing at the door, watching the whole thing. She loudly clears her throat and heads over to place the paperwork to sign on his desk. When she leaves the room, she opens the door even more.

“Perfect! How about we wrap up the meeting with some coffee?” Sofia suggests, not waiting for an answer before going to sit on the couch. Rafe passes a look to Y/N through the door, asking her to do what the client wants as he goes to sit on the loveseat instead of the couch beside the woman. He doesn’t want to entertain her any longer, but she is essential to the company. Seeing where he sits, Sofia gets off of the couch to sit beside him. Very close. She swings one leg so that it is practically over both of his legs. Before he could nudge it off, Y/N walks in and jealousy bubbles in the pit of her stomach. She walks by and ‘accidentally’ knocks Sofia’s leg off of Rafe. Y/N sets the coffee down and goes back to her desk. Her ear is still open to the conversation they are having. Sofia places a hand on his bicep, “So do you work out?”

“I don’t think that is an appropriate question for work.”

“Aww, come on. Just indulge me. Maybe, you can help me figure out what equipment to put in my gym. Or help me with a workout.”

“I do work out, but that’s beside the point.”

“I think that's the whole point.”

She moves her hand on his chest and starts to trail it down. Y/N doesn’t think that Sofia can take a hint and she is sick of her flirting. She makes her last entrance into the office. Y/N sits herself on Rafe’s lap, swatting Sophia’s hand away. She turns his head towards her and gives him a passionate kiss. She places her lips near his ear and says loud enough for Sofia to hear, “What should we get for dinner, babe?” Rafe is a little disappointed that she doesn’t use his usual nickname but is very pleased at how hot he finds her jealous. “Ms. Fiore, my assistant will get back to you with another date for the next meeting. Goodbye,” he doesn’t even look in Sofia’s direction as he dismisses her with a wave of the hand. Her heels decreasing volume signals she finally got the message and has left the room.

Rafe gets up to close the door; Y/N raises with him. He turns towards her with a dark look in his eyes. He stalks towards her until her back hits the wall, slamming his hand on the wall above. His finger finds itself under her chin and he lifts it towards him. “What you did is very unprofessional,” he chides, tapping her chin. She stares into his eyes, “She wasn’t getting the message, Boss.”

“You don’t have to worry about her, Butterfly. I only have eyes for you.”

He smirks down at her and smacks his lips onto hers. Her hands find their way to his hair, running through it. He brings a hand down to the back of her leg and brings it up to his hip. Her gentle tugs on his hair cause him to moan into her mouth. He hikes the other leg up, putting some weight against her chest with his to keep her from falling while he adjusts her. He carries her over to his desk and places her on top of it. “Rafe, do you want to get lun-” Topper pauses as he walks in because of the sight before him. His jaw drops and he stands there for a minute. He moves out of the doorway, closing the door behind him. Rafe and Y/N pull apart, fixing their disarray clothes and hair.

“If you guys are going to have sex in the office, you might want to lock the door before this turns into an HR issue,” he advises, lounging on the couch. The couple join him in the couch area. Rafe gives him an offended look, “We were not going to have sex. Someone just got a little jealous of Ms. Fiore.” Topper gives Y/N a funny look. “Aren’t you guys fake dating?” Y/N glares towards Topper, “You know we are!” “That didn’t seem fake to me,” he begins to argue. “But really, you have to be more careful about professionalism at work. This relationship is supposed to fix a PR scandal, not cause one.” He gets up to leave but turns to make one final comment. “Oh. And Rafe, you are going to lunch and paying to help make up for what I just saw.”

——

Work after the Fiore incident was really stressful for Rafe. The Board members came to complain about everything and he was in back-to-back meetings. He let Y/N leave earlier in the day when it started to look like he was going to stay late. He called her once he was finally able to get some time to himself and she told him to come over, which he did right away.

The door swings open to Y/N in her sleeping shorts and tank top. Her shorts are so short that when she turns to guide them to her room, the bottom of her bum peeks out from the material. It takes everything in him not to bring her pussy onto his face, but the setup in her room helps him resist. The room is filled with the sound of ocean waves and the scent of citrus. The room is dim, lit only with candles instead of the overhead light. She orders him to lie down on the bed and squirts some massage oils onto her hands so she can start rubbing his forehead in concentric circles. He sighs in relaxation, enjoying the warmth of her fingers. Once she stops the messaging, she peppers his face with kisses and he can’t get enough of it. She grabs one of her towel headbands and pushes his hair back with it. Next, she goes to get something from her desk and returns with a package in her hand. The face mask is placed on his face, smoothing out the wrinkles in the sheet. Her giggles sound throughout the room at how adorable he looks.

A few minutes later, she takes it off for him, giving him a kiss on his nose. “Can we cuddle?” he pouts, needing a little more of her physical touch. She grins at his request and lies down on the bed beside him. He turns into her touch, placing his head on her breasts. One hand laces through his hair and the other goes to his bareback. Her nails start gently scratching his scalp and back. This soothes Rafe to sleep pretty quickly. Y/N smiles down at him sleepily and gives him a kiss to the temple.

——

The next morning Rafe wakes up with his head still on Y/N’s chest. Her eyes are still closed and her soft breathing almost lulls him back to sleep. However, he wants to get up and cook her breakfast as thanks for what she did last night. He slowly removes himself from her grasp, heading towards the kitchen. Juni sitting at the kitchen island stops him in his tracks. “Morning, Big C. Did you enjoy your pillow?” she taunts with her lips pulled wide and her teeth showing. He gives a playfully annoyed look, “My pillow was great. Thanks for asking. I’m about to make Y/N and me some breakfast. Do you want some?”

“Sure, I’d love some.” He looks through the fridge and starts pulling out some stuff to cook. The eggs are cracked and whisked together before being put into a pan to make scrambled eggs. As he moves on to making the bacon, he starts to think about what Juni calls him whenever they see each other. “Hey, I got a question for you,” he thinks out loud.

“Shoot.”

“Why do you call me Big C? Why not Big R for my first name?”

“I’m not sure I should say, Big C.”

“Ohh, come on. You can tell me. I won’t get upset. Promise.”

“Fine. Well, as you know, your last name starts with a C. But I also call you that because I just know that you have a bigass cock. I mean you radiate big dick energy. Y/N doesn’t know that’s why so don’t tell her. She’d kill me.”

The laugh Rafe lets out could move the earth and it certainly moves Y/N from her sleeping position in her bed. She sleepily walks into the kitchen with her hands rubbing her eyes, “What has you so happy this early in the morning?” “Nothing, Butterfly. Juni just told me a really good joke,” he lies, bringing her to his side to give her a kiss. Y/N shrugs off the lie and gets to work on snacking on the stuff he already cooked.

——

Alexander, Juni, and Y/N are all watching a movie in his apartment. It was one of the rare nights in which they all didn’t have work at night or early in the morning, so they could stay up for as long as they wanted. Alexander excuses himself to get the pizza from the front entrance. “What do you think of Alexander?” Juni questions, looking at the doorframe where he just walked out from. Y/N looks at her with a smirk, “I think he is a really great friend.”

“Not as a friend, but as a romantic interest, Sweetie”

“Ahh. Well, he isn’t my type, but he is definitely cute. I mean he’s a hot firefighter for heaven's sake. What isn’t there to like?”

Juni nods in agreement, “But do you think maybe he prefers guys more than girls? He’s dated mostly guys since we’ve known him.”

“I’m not going to pretend like I know what it is like to be bi or bi preferences, but maybe the reason for that is because all the people he’s liked just so happened to be males. Not the other way around.”

“True. I’ll think about it, Sweetie”

Alexander returns soon after with the pizza and the friend group eats their slices. Eventually, Y/N gets a call from Rafe and she heads back to their apartment to take the call. “So she’s definitely falling for Big C,” Juni comments to break the silence. Alexander chuckles, “Yeah, I think maybe I should follow her lead and fake date one of my co-workers.”

“Well, how about you fake date me instead? Or better yet, you can just date me.”

“You want to go on a date with me?”

“Yeah, only if you want to.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that ever since we met.”

She grins at him and gives him a sweet kiss. They break apart, a little more comfortable with the idea of a romantic relationship, so they cuddle as they watch the rest of the movie.

——

Y/N has to leave work early today to get to the other side of town. Rafe offered to drive her, but she knew that he had an important meeting that he shouldn’t miss. She packs up her stuff to leave and goes to his office to say goodbye. “I’m going to head out now. I’ll call you when I’m done at Nancy’s exhibit,” she informs, leaning down to give him a kiss. He leans into the kiss, “Okay, send me a text when you get there. Also, take lots of pictures for me.” She giggles at his excitement to see Nancy’s art and nods. He really wishes that he could go. His eyes follow her out of the room. He prepares for the meeting, genuinely disappointed that he can’t be there for Nancy or get to spend time with Y/N. And then he remembers that he is the boss. If he doesn’t want to be in a meeting right now, he doesn’t need to be in one.

He dials Topper's phone line and tells him to come to his office. “I need you to lead the meeting and have your assistant take minutes. I’m leaving earlier,” Rafe orders, patting his pockets to make sure he has everything. Topper’s face turns to confusion, “Why? Where are you going?”

“I’m going to meet up with Y/N.”

“Rafe, do you really think it is a good idea to go?”

“What’s wrong with going?”

“You don’t think you are getting a little caught up in this fake relationship? I mean, you guys are kissing when there is no one around and even though you already went to the wedding, you guys haven’t called off your relationship. Everyone has forgotten what the contractors have said.”

“I really don’t see the problem. We both know the relationship isn’t real. It really isn’t any of your business anyway. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get going before I am late.”

——

The hallway of the gym is crowded with excited family members and friends waiting for the gym doors to open for the class exhibit. Rafe’s tall stature helps him easily spot Y/N and her parents in the crowd. He fights his way to her, tapping on her shoulder to get her attention. She turns around perplexed but it quickly turns to elation when she sees who is there. She jumps to wrap her arms around his neck, “Boss, what are you doing here?” He laughs at her excitement, placing a kiss on her cheek. “I realized that I owned the company and could get others to attend meetings for me. This is more important,” he explains. Nate overhears the conversation, “That is very sweet, Rafe. I know Nance will be very excited to see you.” “Thank you, Nate. I am very excited to see her art,” he admits with his arms wrapped around Y/N’s waist. The doors finally open and they rush in to get to Nancy.

The massive smile on Nancy’s face when she sees her family is heart melting. Her eyes land on Rafe and her cheeks heat up as red as a tomato. She gives everyone a hug. “So little artist, show us your work,” Rafe demands, turning over to the section saved for the youngest Y/L/N. Nancy nods, pulling him over to her paintings. Every time Nancy and Rafe are in the same room, her full attention is on him and he is wrapped around her finger. His eyes glance over her work when they are drawn to one particular. The vibrant colours attract his eyes first and the shallow depth of field of the painting draws his eyes to two people. Y/N wears her dusty blue dress, wrapped in Rafe’s arms. His eyes are on her and the love he has for her is glaringly obvious. Nancy really captured his feelings at that moment.

Y/N comes up behind him and snuggles herself under his arms. She looks at the painting with a fond smile, “It’s beautiful, Nance. I love it.” “How much?” are the only words Rafe can utter. Nancy’s lips fall agape, “Excuse me?” “How much do you want for the painting?” he clarifies, approaching the painting to look at the detail.

“Oh, you don’t have to pay for it. I can just give it to you.”

“No, I want to pay for this one. That way you can put it on your resume that you sold a painting. Is ten thousand enough?”

“No…no…no… That is too much. I didn’t pay for supplies and I didn’t even spend that much time on it.”

“Nonsense, I’ll put it towards your post-secondary education. You can use it for art school. I insist.”

Phoebe and Nate try to argue with Rafe that he didn’t have to pay, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

——

Rafe stares at the level and adjusts the frame of the painting based on it. Once he is satisfied that it is straight, he gets down from off of the bed. She walks into the room after doing her nighttime routine to see where he placed the painting. “You aren’t really going to put that there?” Y/N asks, settling herself into his bed. She stares up at the painting above. Rafe is heading to the bathroom but stops, “Of course, that way I can stare at your beautiful face before I go to sleep when you are not with me.”

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