#this is the least insufferable option but i hope they go for the second one bc in story i think it would be the best for the characters | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fantasy-on-parchment · 2 years

Note

could you do a fic where evangeline is scared at night (maybe by luc?) and goes into jacks' room but in a fluffy kinda way where he takes care of her?

Why of course I can! If you were looking for a fluffy little comfort read then buckle up babes!

Don’t Want to be Alone

Jacks x Evangeline

No summary needed, no warning besides vampires and mentions of blood. <3

THIS IS NOT MY BEST WRITING IM CURRENTLY SICK AND ABSOLUTELY DROWNING IN COLLEGE WORK YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED…😘

Eva’s POV

Piercing eyes, selling souls.

Neck biting, blood sucking.

Moonlight, gravestones.

Blood. So much blood.

It’s everywhere. On clothes and seeping into the stones at my feet. It’s caked into my hair and sticking like a second skin in the creases of my nails.

Blood. Blood, blood, blood, blood.

They’re holding me down, at least six of them. All while he stands over me. The boy I thought I loved, the boy I thought loved me.

I scream.

He lunges for my throat.

There’s a gasp throughout the room as I sit up in bed abruptly. My chest rises and falls in quick successions as I take in the room. On instinct, I back against the headboard and pull the comforter to my chest. My arms and legs and… well my entire body is shaking.

After my eyes adjust, it’s obvious I’m alone in the room, but… still. It doesn’t feel like I’m alone. I can almost swear I hear howls from outside. Vampiric, blood-sucking howls coming from just below my window. In my mind they’re climbing up the trellis, jumping onto my balcony and—

Nope. I throw the covers away, there’s just no way in all the fates’ will that I am staying in this room by myself.

Where am I going?

Hell if I know. But far far away from the “howling” is a good start. Whether it’s real or not…

Disregarding the lack of cover my slip provides, I slide slowly out of bed, manage to jump a foot away (because you know, monsters under the bed and all that), and tiptoe to the door. Before I open the large wooden slab that’s bound to creek, I turn and put my back to the cold surface.

I question what I’m even thinking, where I’m going, and what I plan to do when I get there.

I’m still exhausted, so hopefully wherever I go included a bed… but I also don’t want to be alone. I can’t very well just creep into anyones room and ask to sleep with them… no one would understand my fear or vampire howls or graveyards and…

Well… one person.

No. No, no, no, no.

I go to step back to my bed, but fear crawls up my stomach and I feel so sick I step back to the door. It’s my only option, and I hate it. It wouldn’t do any good, he’d turn me away immediately with one of those stupid grins of his. He’d call me that insufferable nickname, and tell me something like “if you plan to sleep anywhere near me, it’d have to be on the floor,” because fates only know he couldn’t be caught sharing a bed with me.

Unless…

The floor.

I quickly turn to face my door and cringe as it creeks open. I sigh when there’s enough room to slip through, and pad with my bear feet down the cold stone.

I’ll just stay on the floor. Yeah. I’ll sneak in and lay on the floor and he won’t even know and when the sun rises I’ll sneak back to my room…

Not creepy at all. Not “if he wakes up and finds me he’s gonna think I’m some crazy obsessed witch” at all.

I take a deep breath when I approach his door. It’s wooden, like mine, and most definitely will creek all the same. With my fingers on the handle, I shut my eyes tight and pray to whoever’s listening that Jacks is a very, very heavy sleeper.

But under my eyelids is Luc, standing above me, lunging for the kill—

I push the door open, oh fates is it loud. I keep pushing, hoping he’s asleep, hoping I can just lay on the floor and bask in another presence.

But when I open the door wide enough to see, there’s a lamp on by the bedside, and a sleep looking Jacks propped on his elbows above a fluffy pillow.

A small gasp escapes me when his eyes are already on me, and mine lock to his. I watch as he takes in the minimal clothing and shoeless feet, along with (most likely) ratted hair and dark under eyes.

He says one thing: “I had a feeling that sudden scream in my mind wasn’t my own.”

I have the audacity to stand there, jaw hanging, before I gather myself, “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you…”

I turn around, very quickly aborting my mission, but Jacks has other plans, “What happened, Evangeline?”

I stop with my back to him, halfway out the door, halfway in the room. “Nothing, just a nightmare,” comes my feeble reply. It’s the truth, after all.

There’s a sarcastic hum, as if he doesn’t really believe me. I yearn to see the look on his face, try to read the emotions like I have time and time again. I turn back to him, crossing my arms around my stomach for some sense of security. I bite my lip until it hurts, and realize I must have already been chewing on it when it stings and tastes of metal.

He’s looking at me intensely, almost studying, “Why did this nightmare bring you to me?” He doesn’t smirk, he doesn’t need to, it’s all in his tone, how amused he is.

My jaw hangs open once again, not knowing-wanting-to answer. I don’t want him to know he’s the only person who truly understands me after this last year, or the only person I feel remotely safe with after the night in Chaos’s lair.

“Evangeline?” It’s impatient and tired and I realize I’m losing time, scrambling for an excuse.

“I just… I just don’t want to be alone.”

Jacks’s brows furrow, “You have maids and guards and plenty of other staff to keep you company so—“

“Yes but—“

“Even in the middle of the night they’re meant to—“

“It was Luc.”

The room goes silent with the remark, and I see something almost… possessive(?) flash in his eyes. But then they soften considerable so, and his mouth falls relaxed. I drop my gaze to my feet, very interested in the lengths of my toes, “I just, admittedly, got scared, that’s all. I wasn’t going to interrupt your sleep, I honestly was just going to sit by the window or on the floor, it didn’t matter. I just thought I heard howling and I didn’t feel safe in my room…”

There’s a beat of silence when I’m sure he’ll make me leave but; “Little Fox?”

I look up, feeling like an innocent child at their parents bedside after a bad dream.

“Shut the door.”

Oh.

I swallow deeply, nod solemnly, and begin to exit the room. “Yes, right, I’m sorry again, we don’t have to mention—“

“Stop.”

I look back from my place outside the room, “stop?”

He nods, more patiently than before, “Come inside and shut the door, Little Fox.”

Oh. Oh.

I do as told, honestly too exhausted to even think of a sassy remark. When I’m inside the room, we simply look at each other for a minute before Jacks begins to slide to the furthest side of the bed and lift the covers.

My brows furrow this time, taken aback by the invite. I scan the deep blue duvet and the shirtless man occupying half its space and… my stomach feels like it might roll over itself in a feeling I’m not sure I’ve ever had…

I look down at the thin fabric covering my stomach and thighs, my legs brushing together instinctively. My eyes switch between my feet, thinking surely he’s not really inviting me into his bed. Surely this is just some form of mockery, right?

I look back up at him, “If this is some kind of joke, Jacks, it’s really not funny.” I huff, crossing my arms and straightening my back. Perhaps, if I look more intimidating, he won’t see the desperation in my eyes.

But he levels me with a look of both boredom and determination all at once, “Little Fox, for all the disrespect I may show, I would hope you would know I wouldn’t joke about sharing my bed with you.”

I have to stop the gasp that travels up my throat at the ending of his sentence, the thought of not only sharing a bed but also…

“Are you just going to stand there? Because I must admit, you make a man very nervous.”

Oh, I stand still, suddenly realizing I had been shifting my weight between my feet. I open my mouth then close it again, then steel myself as I take a deep breath.

It’s his invite. It’s fine. He’s asking me, not the other way around.

When I take a tentative step forward, he grins, and it builds until I’m at the bed. Slowly, nimbly, I lift the covers and slide underneath. I sit while he is relaxed, straight as a board and tense.

I only tense more when he turns his body to truly face me, “Well,” he drawls, “you have a funny way of sleeping.”

“Huh?” My voice is light, feeble and a little skittish sounding.

“You mean to tell me you plan to sleep like that, sitting up?” He chuckles, deep and echoing throughout the room.

Then his hand in wrapped around my wrist, tugging me down towards the bed. My breath hitches slightly, but I slide down anyways and pretend my slip isn’t riding dangerously high on my thighs.

I stare at the ceiling, one hand on my chest and the other under the covers where his hand still circles my wrist. He’s brushing circles around the last scar, sending tingles up my arm, and I feel his eyes on my face and chest. I don’t know if I should turn to him, turn the other way, or do nothing at all. I focus on my breathing, in an out, in and—

“You know I can hear your thoughts, right? When you project them like you are now?”

Oh my god

Nope. No no no. I pull my wrist from his with an embarrassed groan and go to roll over, ignore his presence all together(ironic that that’s literally what I came here for).

But he catches my waist and pulls me back on to my back with a huff, then leans across me to my other wrist and pulls me to face him.

“Tell me about it.”

My cheeks flush as his breath fans my face, all mint and crisp apples. “About what?”

There’s a smile, a gleam in a sea of blue, “Your nightmare, pet.”

Oh… “I… well, it was Chaos’s lair.”

He perks up at that, tugging my wrist until I’m an inch closer.

I pull in a deep breath, stuttering through the memory. “I was held down by changelings while Luc…” I squeeze my eyes tight, feeling anxiety creep through my stomach and up my throat.

The hand at my wrist moves to my waist, squeezes, and pulls me against Jacks’s chest.

I gasp, “Jacks?” My hand falls on his chest, not sure whether to push away or lean closer.

Unfazed as always, Jacks sits his chin atop my forehead and softly whispers, “And what did the worthless little boy do?”

I sigh, almost dizzy from the lack of space between us. “He-he stood above me, he said some things I can’t really remember and then… lunged for my throat.”

I hear him exhale before both his arms wrap around me and I’m pulled onto his chest as he rolls over. I lift my head and meet his eyes, he-for maybe the first time ever-smiles at me in a soft, almost admiring way. He lifts a cold hand to brush a curl behind my ear, “You said you heard howls?”

“Uhm… yeah.” I’m on top of him, I’m on top of him, I’m literally on top of him. “It was just my mind though, I was a little freaked out…”

He laughs softly, “You must know, Little Fox, that I had no intentions of taking you there and letting them harm you.”

“No, I um… I know.” My hands are on his chest and my legs are straddling his thighs and he’s… nothing but solid muscle everywhere we meet.

“Good.” It’s a whisper, and his hand at my ear finds my nape, pulling my head down to his chest. His other hand reaches down and pulls the covers over me, the warmth a contrast to the coolness of his skin.

“What are we doing?“ I ask, muffled by his chest.

There’s a yawn, “Sleeping, my Little Fox, now shush.”

I go to protest at the amount of contact between us, but then the hand at my nape moves through my hair. He scratches my scalp soothingly and suddenly all protest dies on my tongue. Almost subconsciously, I begin drawing lazy patterns along his chest. It’s peaceful… calm.

“Safe.”

“Hm?” Jacks chest rumbles with the question. I barely even hear it from how heavy my eyelids feel.

“You… make me safe.”

There’s another hum, “but who saves you from me, Little Fox?”

#evajacks #ouabh #tbona #the ballad of never after #romance #jacks #prince of hearts #prompts #stephanie garber #angst

190 notes · View notes

trillscienceofficer · 10 months

Note

While I hate how Picard forgot about Elnor for so long, I genuinely think Elnor was better off without him because it's clear he hates children and he would get him killed sooner or worse. So actually Elnor being raised by the lesbian convent , I mean Qowat Milat, was good for Elnor. Except Picard shouldn't have made that promise so the poor child wouldn't long to see Picard again.

(In reference to this post)

I totally get where you're coming from! I really am not sure what Picard would've done with Elnor had things been different, but there were imho several options in which Picard could've helped without having to raise the kid himself.

It's interesting that now that I got to 1x04 again I'm experiencing once more the same kind of 'wait a second I kinda like where this is going actually', in the sense that in the first few episodes of Star Trek: Picard we're shown the terrible consequences of the one time in his life Picard chose his pride over the commitment he'd made to several people, ie the time he resigned from Starfleet over the Romulan rescue efforts and went straight into early retirement. We see this especially with Raffi (whom also Picard had left to her own devices) and Elnor, and with Picard's own surprise at how bad things have gotten because too many people like him chose to not act when even partial, insufficient action, without any 'official' backing of any kind would have still meant something. It sure would've meant a lot to Elnor and Raffi at the very least.

I thought it could've been a really good commentary on the price paid for inaction and for believing that the official, sanctioned way is the only way anyone can do anything about huge, intractable problems, when in reality any decision that leads to lessening of people's suffering is worth making. But the show lost the plot of this already during this episode (by casting Picard as someone still 'deserving' a voice on Vashti among the Romulan refugees), and I'm not sure I buy either Raffi or Elnor eventually forgiving him or much less apologizing to him (for what exactly it's unclear, he's the one who let them down!)

Anyway, I had great hopes for this show and for Jean-Luc but I don't blame anyone who finds him insufferable now. Picard could've been again a vehicle for talking about responsibility and what we owe to each other even after we've made mistakes, like in TNG's best moments, but this show chose differently I guess.

#askbox #pic #grudging pic liveblog

24 notes · View notes

kakashissimp · 1 year

Note

I'm so excited for the 350 event! Thank you for being so kind to us thirsty ppl. Anyways, here are my two characters: 🚬🔞🔴🍑🔦 or 🍥✅️🟢🍅. Hope it inspires you!

Coy | Shikamaru x Reader | NSFW

Prompt: Shikamaru + NSFW + Fem!reader+ "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice" + switches. *Slight bully elements as well

Note: Thanks so much for the prompt! I also decided to make this college!au.

(Link to the event post)

With your books pressed firmly against your chest, you hurried down the hallway, pleated skirt swaying as you went. You needed to study for an important chem test, and you'd be damned if all the study rooms were claimed.

Once you reached the right corridor, typically silent as everyone worked, you walked by each one, noting how the doors were firmly closed and locked, already taken.

The tension squeezed in your chest until you realized one door was still open.

Your roommate had people over, despite having expressed how important the test was, and going back wasn't an option. You needed complete peace and quiet.

Slipping into the room, your breath caught in your throat, alarmed at the sight of someone else there. Your chest deflated at the recognition.

"Shikamaru?" You questioned, brows furrowed.

Shikamaru Nara was by no means a determined student. He took most tests without studying at all, and rather took naps or got high with his friends.

He was also insufferable.

A small smile tugged on his lips, but it lacked warmth and made your skin crawl. "Ah, y/n. Am I taking up the last quiet room?"

You swallowed hard. "Yes, actually. Last time I checked, you haven't studied a day in your life. Why are you here?"

Shikamaru clicked his tongue and leaned back into the leather couch, next to the table and chairs. The silence within the sound-proofed room was deafening.

"I may not need to study, but I can still appreciate a good napping place."

You deadpanned. "Are you serious? Some people actually need to study here. Like me."

"I'm not stopping you." The grin on his face stretched. "I'll get some shut-eye while you study to your heart's content. Why don't you lock the door, sweetheart?"

Biting back every feral thing you wanted to say to him, you closed the door behind yourself and clicked the lock shut. "Don't call me that."

"A bit stressed are we?" Shikamaru tutted, closing his heavily-lashed eyelids with his arms tucked behind his head.

"This test is important, so I'd appreciate it if you would be so kind as to shut up," you snarked back, taking a seat at the table, back facing Nara. You unloaded all your books and supplies, already flipping to the first page.

Shikamaru scoffed, and to your surprise, went quiet. It wasn't like him to back down, especially not when he wanted under your skin.

You had mutual friends with Shikamaru—that's how you even knew him on a campus of so many students. He went to the same parties as you, was in some of the same classes, and always managed to find a way to weasel into your life.

Shikamaru was annoying at best. He loved pestering you, even if you never gave him a reason to.

His teasing was endless. While hanging out with friends, he would belittle you, make you second-guess yourself, and do everything in his power to embarrass you. He seemed to revel in how your cheeks would flush at his snarky comments.

Shikamaru would stoop low enough to tug on your hair if the chance arose, and he would dip down to whisper something irritating in your ear. While his husky voice and proximity would confuse you endlessly, you saw him as a nuisance more than anything.

Fortunately for you, your skin was thick, and his pestering wasn't entirely the issue. It was his audacity, truthfully.

You never knew what his problem was, but having him in the room with you in the perfectly quiet space made everything worse. Unable to relax fully, your mind was on high alert, and you couldn't focus for even a moment.

Releasing a sigh, you reread the same sentence at least five times and adjusted your skirt uncomfortably. Then, Shikamaru's grating voice broke the semblance of concentration you had.

"You aren't coy, you know."

Your brows furrowed. "What?"

He chuckled. "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."

Not bothering to look in his direction, you swallowed hard and tried to push back the blush that tried to creep up your neck. "Stop being mean, Shikamaru."

"Mean? I'm just pointing out the facts." You could sense the wicked smirk on his face.

"The fact is, you're an asshole," you snapped, finally turning to look at him. "Why do you always have to bother me? You've never tried to just talk to me like a normal person."

A shade of something unreadable moved across Shikamaru's eyes then, until his smirk dropped into a flat line, more serious than before. "You've got me all wrong."

"How?" you pressed, standing from your chair to get a better look at him. "You act like you hate me."

"I know you pride yourself on being smart and all, but maybe your observation skills could use some work," Shikamaru murmured, allowing that smirk to return. "I don't hate you. I want to be in you."

A chill ran down your back at the confession, frozen by the idea of it. For a split second, you wondered if you misheard him.

He wanted you. He wanted to be inside you.

Shikamaru was amused by the look on your face. He seemed to ease into his place then, confidence returning. "There you go. Now the gears are turning."

"Shut up," you muttered back, unable to stop the blush from crawling up your neck and flooding your cheeks. You didn't know how else to react to such a perception-altering admission.

"I mean it," Shikamaru began, cocking a brow. "Now you know what I want. If I'm correct, I believe you want the exact same thing."

Half tempted to jump through mental hoops to convince yourself he was wrong, you were deceived by your own body. The shiver that ran through you, along with the warmth inside your panties said it all.

Shikamaru was right. Secretly, he had been for some time.

Shikamaru's gaze softened only slightly, and he patted his thigh. "Come here."

Swallowing hard, you took a few steps closer to the couch, watching carefully as Shikamaru leaned forward and put a hand out toward you.

The sensation of his warm skin against yours sent your mind reeling, already weak in the knees at the way his eyes took you in as if you were already naked under his stare. His palm landed on the back of your thigh, just below your ass. His nimble fingers squeezed the soft flesh and he released a sigh at the way it bounced back effortlessly.

Your heart raced all the while his hands slowly explored your thighs, allowing his touch to move upward until he gave your ass a greedy feel. His dark eyes were fixated and determined, hungry all the while he examined you.

"Turn around," he growled, guiding you with a hand.

Obediently, you did as you were told, back turned to him once again. His hands fell to your waist, and they slowly moved down until he reached the hem of your skirt once again.

His palms glided beneath the loose material, squeezing from time to time.

Your cheeks burned all the while Shikamaru parted your lower lips as a result, glad that he couldn't see your face then. But the enthusiastic fluid that gathered in your underwear moved so easily that you only hoped Shikamaru couldn't hear it.

You wanted him badly, and his touch only made it more excruciating.

"Now," Shikamaru murmured, lifting the skirt up to watch as he dragged a finger over the soft imprint of your pussy, just light enough to make you shiver. "If I were to pull these off, what would I find?"

Unable to say the words due to embarrassment, you bit down on your cheek instead, waiting with bated breath as the pad of his finger carefully moved across your clothed folds. The closer to your clit he ventured, the more your legs trembled.

You held back the moans, despite how they bubbled just beneath the surface.

Impatiently, Shikamaru added more pressure, surely aware of the obvious dampness. You were found out the moment he chuckled and rubbed careful circles over your clit.

"Already so wet, huh? I must be right then."

Whole body burning, you silently begged for him to give up the teasing and just give you what you wanted. You needed to know what it felt like to be filled by him. To feel the desperation of his skin against yours.

A breathy moan slipped past your lips with a wave of pleasure that sparked from your clit. "Shikamaru..."

"Be a good girl and unbutton your blouse, baby," Shikamaru hummed, pressing further into your panties, pulling more flustered sounds from you.

Not wanting to waste a second, your fingers fumbled over your buttons like you wouldn't get the chance again. You were finally able to breathe once the last one popped open.

Yet, you were spun around before you could think, and Shikamaru's lustful eyes were on yours, searing into you.

"Sit. Now."

Trembling with anticipation, you straddled Shikamaru's lap, aware of how vulnerable it made you.

"That's better," Shikamaru cooed, bringing his left hand up to cup your jaw while the other wandered back to your underwear. He played with the hem before he moved the fabric aside and brushed his dexterous fingers through your folds. "You want this cock, don't you, baby?"

Whimpering at the feeling, you arched your back and had to prop yourself up with one hand against the back of the couch. It only brought your lips closer.

You nodded desperately, eyes threatening to close at the pleasure his fingers brought you just from all the teasing. "Yes...Please. F-fuck me, Shikamaru."

"You don't have to worry about that," Shikamaru murmured in return, dipping his fingers into your soaked heat. He suppressed a growl at just how wet you were. "But first, you're gonna ride me."

Not needing to hear it again, you nodded eagerly, already fumbling with his button. Shikamaru sat back while you worked it open, followed by the zipper.

Your fingers brushed against Shikamaru's cock, already rock hard in his boxers. He tensed at the contact, followed by a breathy groan once you freed his length from its confines.

"Fuck..." Shikamaru grumbled at the way you pumped him slowly, giving the tip an extra tug before you lined yourself up, too worked up to wait any longer.

While Shikamaru held your panties to the side, you felt the head of his cock against your pussy, asking for entrance. The very thought made your mouth water.

Shikamaru swallowed back a moan at how agonizingly close he was to feeling your velvety walls, and he guided your face closer with his other hand.

He pulled your lips against his in a searing kiss, far more desperate than you had ever felt before. You sucked in a deep breath, surprised by how right it felt.

You never imagined you'd be so close to Shikamaru, tongues fighting for dominance while you slowly sank onto him. To even his surprise, Nara gave up and let a hoarse groan spill past his lips. His eyes squeezed shut at the feeling and cursed under his breath.

Your body sang with a boost of confidence at his vulnerable reaction, and you gripped the back of the couch while you moved further down his length, noting how you stretched to accommodate his size.

At once, you moaned into each other's mouths, equally shocked by the sensations that sparked through your bodies. You stilled once Shikamaru bottomed out inside of you, gripping him for everything he was worth.

Shikamaru dropped his head back and tried to conceal his groans, to no avail. His hands landed on your ass and he squeezed firmly.

"Fuck, y/n," Shikamaru muttered, catching his breath. "Move already."

The command sent a flood of butterflies into your stomach immediately, and you did what you were told, leaning into the couch to lift your hips above him.

His tip dragged against your slick walls as you pulled up, hitting so many sweet spots at once that your thighs trembled from the pleasure. An airy moan escaped you with your head tipped back, and Shikamaru couldn't stop himself from taking you in completely.

Shikamaru swallowed back his sounds until you sank back down again, to which his jaw fell open and he sputtered.

It was your turn to wear a devious smirk, surprised by the hold you suddenly had over him.

Addicted to the feeling of him, you picked up the pace and rode his cock, eager for those shocks of pleasure. Your stomach squirmed at the way Shikamaru was consumed by the feeling, not able to spew his sarcastic comments with you clenched around him.

His brows fixed together while he gazed at the way your breasts moved for him, overwhelmed by everything at once. Shikamaru grabbed your bra and yanked it down to expose your chest, and he palmed them roughly.

A louder moan came from you then, just as fired up from his touch. Your eyes fluttered shut the moment he ghosted one of your nipples with his tongue before he took it in his mouth and worked it.

Your hands slipped through his hair, pulling whenever his cock hit the perfect spot, and you both moaned in unison. The vibration sent through your chest made you shiver.

Your thighs started to grow tired but to your relief, Shikamaru slipped his hands under your legs and he stood, quickly putting you on the table.

Your books and papers went flying with your momentum, but you didn't care, not while Shikamaru put a hand against your neck and slammed into your pussy.

Squealing at the sudden change, your eyes rolled back, and you arched against the flat surface all the while he drove his hips into you again and again, ruthless with his movements.

Every thrust pulled the moans and whimpers right from you, accompanied by the slap of his skin against yours. Shikamaru grunted, gripping one of your thighs with his free hand.

Your body convulsed with every rut of his hips, intoxicated by the way he fucked you, unrelenting and desperate. Finally fulfilling what you both wanted all along.

"Shika—" you croaked, tightening around his cock.

Shikamaru growled at the way you clenched around him, and his fingers flexed against your throat. "Is this what you wanted, baby? For me to fuck you dumb like this?"

You hardly had time to digest the words before you started nodding, eager for your quickly approaching climax. Shikamaru and the feelings he brought you were the only things you could focus on then, craving that sweet release.

Tears gathered in your eyes from the intensity. From the desperation to finish.

Shikamaru chuckled at this. "Such a pretty girl crying for my cock. You wanna cum?"

"Y-yes!" you cried out, reaching for anything to hold.

Fortunately, Shikamaru pulled your hips closer and dropped his spare hand to your core, where he sloppily rubbed your clit. His lips captured yours once again, and he moaned into your mouth.

Your whimpers painted his lips, overwhelmed by it all. Black dots shot across your vision from the deadly combination of his thrusts and his fingers.

"Remember how good this feels," Shikamaru muttered, hovering his mouth above yours while his fingers worked your clit. "Don't forget it was me you cried for."

His words were torturous, and you had no wits left to speak. The breath was stolen from your chest as he bucked into you. The coil in your belly tightened, threatening to snap.

"I'll fuck you senseless whenever you want," Shikamaru panted, fighting against his own weakness. "Just give me the word."

The proposition of having sex again made your stomach flip, and you whimpered. You never wanted it to end in the first place.

A loud moan tore from your lips the moment the pleasure caught up with you, and your hips stuttered against Shikamaru's. You reached for his back and clutched onto him as you rode out the intense waves of your orgasm.

Shikamaru cursed again at how tightly you gripped him, and he buried his head in the crook of your neck, so close. The sloppiness of his thrusts spoke of his nearness, body tensing as he came.

Shikamaru painted your neck with a guttural groan the moment his fingers dug into your skin and he spilled inside of your warmth. He leaned into you as he caught his breath, needing you to keep him upright.

Absently while you basked in the afterglow, your fingers drifted up and down his spine as Shikamaru relaxed. He surprised you by wrapping his arms around you and pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

This was a different side to Shikamaru you had never seen before, and you wouldn't mind discovering more about him.

"If you ever need help studying again, don't hesitate," Shikamaru murmured with a chuckle.

Your lip curled in a small smile. "Don't push it, Nara."

#shikamaru #shikamaru nara #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru fanfiction #naruto shikamaru #shikamaru oneshot #kakashissimps350followersevent #shikamaru x you

106 notes · View notes

dakogutin · 1 year

Text

DAY15/19 of @dzaddyjamespotter‘s advent calendar prompts:

UNWRAPPING & GIFT

(read my other christmas prompts here!)

It had been a long day at work. Remus settled for spelling himself clean, anything to speed things up just to finally sink in his bed and sleep, preferably in Sirius’ arms, or Sirius in his arms. Yet here he was, left to confront a wrapped gift that was undoubtedly left by Sirius.

It wasn’t an option to ignore it, Remus was sure Sirius made it so, as it was huge. It was almost as tall as his thigh and it took up a considerable amount of floor space at the very centre of the bedroom.

Admittedly, Remus was hesitant to even approach it. Years of being roommates with Sirius (and James) could get into one’s head like that. Living with Sirius alone both worsened and lessened these instances. They were still Marauders, after all.

Remus casted a quick revealing charm, but found it to be blocked by wards.

“Oh, that’s just really clever, now,” Remus grumbled under his breath before throwing all caution to the wind and calling out, “Sirius! Are you inside?”

“Not this time.”

”Godric’s sweaty bollocks.” Remus whirled behind him and jumped backwards. “Sirius, what the fuck?”

Sirius laughed, his arms reached out to steady Remus and slowly pulled him into a warm hug. As Remus rested his head on Sirius’ shoulder, his exhaustion unfolded.

But then Sirius pulled away.

“Do you want to sleep?” he spoke softly. “You can always unwrap this tomorrow.”

Every fibre in Remus screamed for agreement, but he knew Sirius too well. Remus detected the underlying dismay in his voice, the hope in his eyes– and was that a hint of nervousness as well?

Remus curled his lips into a smile, planted a kiss on Sirius’ forehead and turned to the gift. Sirius followed, sitting right next to him, positively radiant despite the late hour.

“No magic, Moons. You have to open this by hand. The muggle way– if you will.”

“I figured that much, thanks.”

Sirius chuckled. “Right. Yeah. Well, go on.”

Shaking his head and all too aware of just how fond his expression was, Remus pulled on the ribbon. “I’m going to be so annoyed if a living creature is inside.”

“You won’t. I’ve already scratched that from things I can do to surprise you.”

Remus hummed. “Really setting the expectations high, are we?” He didn’t bother with doing it carefully, tearing the wrapping paper and digging at the confetti.

Only to find another smaller gift inside.

“Oh.”

Sirius laughed.

Once again, Remus ripped at the second gift and found yet another smaller gift. It was like opening those Russian dolls.

“I see,” said Remus. “So we’re playing this game, then.”

After another two boxes, Remus groaned.

“Jesus, Padfoot, how many more of these?”

Sirius continued to wear a huge grin, not at all bothered to placate Remus’ exasperation. “See, I wasn’t actually supposed to be here when you unwrap it.”

“But what? You figured it’ll be a lot more entertaining?”

“Yep.”

“Fucking hell.”

“You’re doing great, darling.”

“You’re not.”

“Just keep going! Are you not curious enough? You know you can’t leave it there.”

Remus simply huffed and continued his excavation.

Another three. The gift was down to the size of his head. As much as Remus dreaded it, he wouldn’t put it past Sirius to fit at least four more inside.

“Oh my god. This isn’t funny anymore.”

One.

Two.

Three.

At the fourth gift, Remus was abruptly struck with recognition. The size of it– perfectly contained in his palm.

His heart pounding suddenly muffled every other sound to his ears. It was then when he realised how Sirius was barely responding to him anymore. He really was nervous.

A box. Velvet, not carton. No wrapping paper nor a bow.

Slowly, Remus lifted it open.

A ring. Silver. Sapphire and opal gemstones placed on an intricate design. Breathtaking and beautiful.

“Remus–”

“Yes, you insufferable idiot.” Remus pounced on his boyfr– fiancé, drowning him in kisses.

“At least let me ask first! I rehearsed it way too many times!” Sirius giggled but kissed back just as excitedly.

“No. This is what you get for pulling that shit on me.” When he kissed Sirius this time it was long and deep and filled with all the mirth swirling in his heart.

#a fave of mine this one hehehe #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #remus x sirius #Sirius x Remus #my fic #littlelass' fanfic advent calendar challenge

28 notes · View notes

russilton · 1 year

Note

I’m curious about how you and Kimy met each other & got together, and who started shipping 4463 first? Just interested in hearing this kinda story and you can totally ignore me if you don’t want to answer. Hope you both have a nice weekend 😁

God no I love answering this question!

(Edit: while answering this question you caused me irreparable damage as I realised for the first time that abu dahbi 21 was the direct cause of me and kimy being on the call where I realised she liked me, and then I asked her out. I will never recover.)

Kimy (aka @thatsmemate ) and I met in 2017, technically twice, first in a shared discord server where we didn’t even realise we’d talked till years later, and the second time via tumblr

We both used to ship a fairly popular marvel ship (and still do, just less actively) that will go unnamed for the sake of plausible deniability, but anyone who wants to try hard enough can probably find my other blog lmao. I started making art for said ship in early 2017, and Kimy, without fail, left the BEST tags on my posts.

Not kidding, that’s genuinely how first connected, she used to leave the sweetest, kindest tags for me, that always made me feel like I was actually posting good work. And because they were always so good, I’d look forward to seeing her name in my notifs. Eventually I followed her back, because despite me being awkward as hell, it seemed like everyone I followed knew her (she will deny this, but it’s what I remember thinking, so it’s true), and thus, I wanted to know her. Eventually we started talking, then DMing, I wrote my first ever fic right into her tumblr DMs and by the end of that year we we’re insufferably inseparable.

We didn’t get together till December 2021 though, because in a fanfiction style twist, she ended been pining for 3 of those 5 years, and thought I knew. Anon, I did not know, because I am thick skulled and cannot read social hints.

Why December 21? Well Kimy decided to finally let me show her the hit Netflix documentary tiger king. Yes, THAT tiger king. Why? I shit you not I think it was genuinely because I was angry and upset about AD 21 happening THE DAY PRIOR and she was comforting me. A fact I had genuinely blocked out until writing this LMAO.

A combination of the trauma of AD combined with the best thing in my life happening means I assume my brain decided to separate the two. Anyway, she was pining, and I wasn’t. Not because I didn’t like her, but because I had no idea that was an option. My brain functioned under the assumption she couldn’t like me. Sky is blue, 1+1=2, she could never be attracted to me. At least it did until I made a STUPID joke about the first husband in tiger king. The one that got gay married for meth.

It went something along the lines of “my meth would be a partner who let me be a stay at home dad because I want to provide home care for my family” I know I’m so smart. She replied with saying she wouldn’t mind something like that because she hated having to do things after she got home and actually enjoyed work. I say “hahah maybe you should marry me for a green card, it might actually work out”.

I know. She was pining sadly, but the dusty cogs in my brain finally started working. And flirting. For the rest of the call I kept making jokes about soulmates and “that’s why you should marry me” as we discussed what we want out of our partners.

Call ends, she pines, I FINALLY go “oh shit, I think that was a Jk unless hint…” then spent a night thinking on it, before asking her out the following day. She said yes ❤️.

As you can tell from that story, I was very invested in F1 long before we got together, but I wasn’t shipping 4463 at that point yet. I was the one to pick it up first though. I even found 4463 works THROUGH a conversation with her! I caught a massive throbbing man crush on George (I had one on Lewis already but the George one was a lot less awe and a lot more nsfw) told her about it, and she kept encouraging me. Then after Spain I sent her a gif of Bono and Lewis looking gay, it lead to a convo about fanfiction, and I, long used to ao3, went looking…

I spent a few weeks getting neck deep in gewis, and I slowly started sending her things, because there’s not a thing on this earth I DONT share with her —She could blackmail me very effectively— and because she is the best person to ever live she got right into it with me, even after watching me have an angry betrayed ranting fit about certain fics that won’t be named BUT KNOW WHO THEY ARE.

By austria we started watching quali together on our date nights as she let me explain f1 to her. That’s why her favourite drivers are my favourite drivers, because I am a dreadful biased influence. Its the best thing on earth to share this with her. Because she is the best thing on my earth.

#asks #anonymous #personal #kimy’s tag #mark rambles

14 notes · View notes

birdybliss · 8 months

Text

The Battle of Colleen: A Server's Tale

It was midday and I noticed that we were out of decaf. Why anyone would ever want coffee with their fried fish is beyond me. I pretended to look busy to avoid the fact that I’ve only made coffee once in my life, and even then, you would have to smoke two packs a day to enjoy the flavor that came out of it. As the smell of malt vinegar and mysterious white fish assaulted my nose, I weaved my way around the dining room unnecessarily topping off barely sipped sweet teas hoping that I’d avoid coming across the woman who recently trained me. “CeeCee” is what they called her, though the name sounds nearly too joyous for someone so insufferable. She was a southerner, yet no belle, and as sweet as pure cranberry juice. The new hostess, who started the same day as I did, just double-sat her section. Damn it, Mallory. Why’d you have to do that?

“WHO used the last of the decaf and didn’t start a new pot?” I hear screeching from the kitchen. Her voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard, and when she’s angry, you can see her veins protruding next to the aged Celtic knot tattoo on her neck. My wishful thinking tells me that the only thing we have in common is our Scotch-Irish heritage.

“I did”, says another server unknowingly falling on my sword. CeeCee scoffs for a minute, then starts the new pot on her own.

The owners are never here, and I’m almost glad because I’ve already forgotten their names and it feels too late to ask. It’s almost as if they don’t want to witness the downfall of their investments. To my knowledge, there’s never been an official placement of a manager, at least not on paper. CeeCee is the one you go to if there are any problems you can’t figure out yourself, but you better make sure you do all you can before interrupting her. While I was still training, I would typically run and grab an extra layer of thick skin before asking her a question.

What’s never made sense to me is that you only get breaks if you smoke cigarettes. I had picked up my first one at thirteen, but I could still wear a white dress since I never inhaled. The second-hand smoke I’d been around my whole life didn’t count either. Working this job made me curious about the relief they seemed to bring CeeCee. She wasn’t the only one stressed around here, after all. I was too young to buy them, but as long as a certain man was working at the gas station up the street I could go and purchase them. I brought a pack of cowboy killers to work with me and coughed my ass off next to the dumpsters. CeeCee walks outside for fresh air and asks, “Can I bum one?” since she dropped her last one on the wet floor next to the dish pit. I hand one over, light her up, and we stand in awkward silence for a moment. Surprisingly, it was the first time I ever felt decently comfortable around her.

Not knowing whether to speak or not, I ask her “So how long have you worked here?” immediately noticing her annoyance with the disruption of silence. She answers, “Twenty-two fucking years. And I’ve never been worked this hard until recently.” Now that she had mentioned it, she did work three doubles back-to-back this week. It made me start to wonder why I got hired on the spot. She throws the butt on the ground and twists it with her nonslip shoe, reminding me that I still need to get a pair of those. She says, “Thanks for the cig. See you inside” and if I were a fool, I’d believe she even cracked a smile at me before she headed back in.

As the days continue on, I become a part of this oiled machine. To call it well would be an exaggeration. I started to pull my own weight, and even had an extra hand available. However, one day an annoyingly ostentatious couple creeps through our doors and seats themselves in my section. While I’m busy with another table, they snap their fingers as if I am their misbehaving schnauzer. Their disrespectful tone and dislike of our water options became unbearable. I made the mistake of bringing out tartar sauce instead of cocktail. My final straw was hearing “Are you incompetent?” flow from the she-devil’s mouth. I immediately walk back into the kitchen, my face as red as the cheap lobster in the food window, and CeeCee stares at me before saying “They giving you a hard time, huh?” I take a big sigh and say, “Yep, they also called me incompetent."

I didn’t expect to see a fire lit underneath CeeCee so quickly. She says, “You stay right here." I watch through the small window as she marches over towards them, stomping louder than the sound of fifteen soldiers, and slams her hands onto their wobbly table. The sound of “WHO do you think you are? You can kiss my…” echoes through the walls. The couple gets up and leaves, never experiencing consequences so high before. CeeCee walks back into the kitchen, hands me the cigarette behind her ear, and says “Get you some fresh air. I owe you one of these anyway.”

As I took a few drags outside, it clicked that this insufferable woman had a heart underneath her apron. She will never let it show on her sleeve, but she can’t help that it pokes out when someone is treated unfairly. I felt knots in my stomach, as it was the first time a stranger had spoken to me so horribly. CeeCee handled their disrespect so well, as if she had done it every day of her life. Truthfully makes me think that she has, and she knows that I hadn’t.

I hear the door open and look up to see the face of the fifteen soldiers. She plops herself onto the curb next to me, asking to use my lighter. She says, “Chin up, buttercup. You’ll get used to it.” As I exhale, I wonder how CeeCee got used to it so easily.

The more I progressed with this job, the more I dealt with people like that she-devil customer. Each time it would happen, I’d give a look to CeeCee and she would tell me the best way to handle it. Well, more like the way that she would handle it. Afterwards, we would take a smoke break and talk about something else to get our minds off of being angry, and as many times as this happened, we ended up learning a lot about each other. It almost got to the point where I wished a customer would berate me so that I would get to hear a new story from her. Now don’t get me wrong, the woman was still tougher than nails majority of the time, but the moments that you got to see the empathy and humanity in her were something else. As for wondering how CeeCee got used to this way of life so easily, that was something I learned from about eighty-nine more cigarettes.

Colleen “CeeCee” Byrne was really a warrior disguised as a waitress. Emancipated at sixteen, fought numerous men in her life, and never took shit from anybody. Her grandparents fled Ireland in hopes for better circumstances in America, packing up their own generational curse of drunken rage before leaving. This suitcase was handed to CeeCee’s father, which he later bestowed upon her until she put down the bottle seven years ago. Men in her life always came and went, especially when realizing that they weren’t needed. She has a son, who she also had to become a father to. She has always had a never-ending to-do list, which explains why her bedside manners have been pushed to the bottom. If it were me, I doubt I would have them at all. On top of all of this, she was worked like a dog at this establishment, though putting decades of hard work into something would make me hesitant to stray away from it also. She was stuck in a cycle of unsettling comfort. Her soul desperately called out for peace, but her body was too adjusted to the chaos. No wonder she was angry.

Over the next few months, I learned more from CeeCee than life had taught me. I am grateful for that. As she screeched from the dining room to the kitchen, it eventually became the white noise that kept the whole place sane. She still barked at me multiple times, and I know it bothered her when I smiled in response. She once mentioned, “I know you were really the one who didn’t make a new pot of decaf that day” surprising me that she could remember something so seemingly insignificant. Without me saying anything, she took my hand, guided me to the coffee maker, and silently showed me how to make it properly. Since that day, I’ve become somewhat of a barista myself.

I hear that the new owners renamed the restaurant and hired a whole new staff, forcing CeeCee into a well-deserved retirement. Wherever she is, I know she’s giving them hell. As I should’ve known by the Celtic symbol, we were never much different, our knots were just tied differently. The stress of her surroundings was slowly killing her. I take a drag of my cigarette to honor her work.

- B. Duff

2 notes · View notes

hekate1308 · 2 years

Text

Fictober 2022, #4

Prompt: "How would that even work?"

Fandom: Death In Paradise

Rating: G

Pairings: Camille Bordey/Richard Poole

“Don’t look at me like that. God, here I am, talking to the lizard again. Dad would say I am loosing my marbles, and he would be right… But then, there has to be a reason you keep coming back, right, Harry? You know who feeds you…

A reason to come back… I suppose I understand that. I had one too, after all. If you’d told me a year ago that I would return to Saint Marie voluntarily… but here we are. A lot can change in a year. It’s true what they say after all. Even though nothing changed for me much the thirteen years prior to me being sent here…

Not that the reason – but no, I’ll stop right there. You’re lucky; you’re a lizard. You don’t have to deal with such things. It’s all just instincts and genetics. Although I suppose this means that even as a lizard, I wouldn’t be lucky enough to…

Nonsense, that’s what it is. I’m probably still a little jet-lagged; I should be resting instead of holding a monologue in front of an animal that doesn’t even understand what I am saying…

Alright, alright, I’m sorry, stop that. Look, I’ll get your food… I guess Camille fed you already, she’s very conscientious when it comes to things like that, so we’ll call it a treat… after all I came back, that’s worth a little celebration, isn’t it? The others seemed to think so, and Camille…

I know she wasn’t wearing the dress for me. Utterly ridiculous idea. She just knows she looks good in just about anything, and probably enjoyed the excuse to wear one of her favourites… Not that there’s anything to say against that, Lord knows, and she did look amazing… Didn’t tell her, naturally. I’m her superior officer, I can’t just give out compliments like that, and a good thing too, I would probably ruin it with my delivery anyway…

The problem is, Harry, I’d been telling myself the entire trip that I was coming back for several reasons, and I do have them – I finally have a team I can trust, I have never been more professionally fulfilled, the island is beautiful, even I have to admit that…

Who am I trying to kid now, you, Harry? The second I saw her, I knew why I had come back, why I was always going to come back.

It’s insane, in a way. Here I am, having spent years, decades alone; I was content, I was used to it, and then she arrived in my life… Well, was forced to stay like I was, in a way… From time to time, I even think… I’m wrong. I can’t be right about this. But that still doesn’t change the fact that she is why I came back, in the end. Camille. And I don’t understand how it could come this far. She’s… she’s everything I’m not. Except for brains, I suppose. We’re both smart in our own way, but that’s where the similarities end.

She doesn’t think of me in that way, she can’t. I think I… intrigue her because I am so English, at least according to her and Catherine, but that’s about it. Other than that… I’m her boss. Her friend, I hope. Yes, I do believe that I am her friend, and that she is mine. A funny concept, having friends; another thing I never really knew until I came here…

So really, that’s all I can ask for, and I should be grateful for it. No, I am grateful for it. I would be an insufferable twat if I were not. It’s the being content with it that’s the problem. Why can’t I just be happy with what I have now? I’ve always made it a rule not to pine after something I can’t have, and this is so far out of my reach it’s not even funny…

Anyway, I’ll either learn to live with it or get over it because these are the only options if I want to stay, and I do. Despite… certain inconveniences. Yes, I do want to stay, so I’ll just have to learn not to think about Camille like this… About me and Camille…

Camille and me… How would that even work? The beauty and the beast? But the beast was a prince at least, so it had something going for it, whereas I… what – where are you going? Strange, he never runs off like tha –“

“Salut, Richard. I decided to come back for a bit… I just wanted to make sure you had everything you need after your week away… I’m sorry for listening in on your talk with Harry, though.”

“…”

“Richard, if you’d just talk to me, I think I can explain how this could possibly work…”

#death in paradise #fictober22 #my writings #richard poole #camille bordey #british detectives #camille x richard

12 notes · View notes

having-trouble-feeling-feelings · 5 months

Text

the submarine

sep 19th, 2022

american baron once said turning 22 is like waking up in a submarine with a giant hole and a box of tissues to slow down the leak. in a few months i will turn 28 and i can't stop thinking about that. For the past two years (including the pandemic and the insufferable months of lock down), all i could think about was how time was slipping from my hands.

it feels like a bottle of red wine broke through my fingers and ran down my clothes. the wine stains will exist forever, but the liquid evaporated both slow and fast.

reaching my 30's has been harder than i anticipated. i never got rid of the sadness that grew within during my teen years. i became better at concealing, better at pretending i don't get bothered by the solitude. i grew used to faking happiness when i'm ignored whenever i have no friends. i'm talking about those weekends in which i see everybody having fun but me. it has become easy to leave people behind, to forget to care, to hope for a better life. meanwhile, i keep lying in bed watching tiktoks and thinking life is a mess.

everyday a box of tissues to stop the hole in the submarine, but today the water finally reached knee level. soon enough it will be hard to walk . the duties, the responsibilities already make every step a little harder. i can't stop thinking about the day that i will drown. i fear the journey won't be enough.

one of these days i read a science article. it stated that, when you die, you spend your last thirty seconds re-living moments of your life, like in the movies. your brain will shoot well being hormones to the rest of your body and then the lights go out. i'be been thinking that, at least, i get to be happy for my last 30 seconds, even if forced by my own brain.

what was the last time you were happy? i see people (maybe this is what aging means) that already recall moments from high school as golden. when i walk the street and see teenagers going to class i'm starting to envy the skin and their youth. for me, that phase ended a decade ago.

like the last two pandemic years, the last decade ran down so fast. my mother was my age when she gave birth to me. she was as young. in 27 years i will be like her now, but 27 years doesn't seem like so much time now, does it?

we reach a point in life where our plans aren't for a year. during school and college, my goal was to end the year with As. after those places, life converts into a calendar with bigger numbers. years run off in the blink of an eye, so we start planning for decades. having a boyfriend by 28, a house by 30, children by 35, having traveled the world by 40. a house in the mountains by 45.

there it is: a life in the making, water by your waist, a submarine halfway to the bottom of the ocean and all you've lived so far was... not what you wanted. i'm still spending nights awake, thinking of what happiness is. do we know what we want? do we have the answer to the meaning of life?

each day the water level is an inch higher and the air available - your amount of time in this planet - is more and more scarce. this is where the suffocation comes from.

existing in a trap, an eternal wait till the day i will finally low down my guard. and then it will hit me. it's a game i can't win either way - a pain to live, a lack of options in death. it's either try this only chance we were given, or give up.

i've been pretending to enjoy my birthday for the last couple years.

sometimes when i open the widows from my apartment in the 5th floor I hope I will never think of jumping off.

#getting older

0 notes

jayy-day-library · 9 months

Text

REVIEW: The Spanish Love Deception by Elena Armas

Rating: 2.5/5

Synopsis

Catalina Martin desperately needs a date to her sister's wedding. Especially since her little white lie about her American boyfriend has spiraled out of control. Now everyone she knows - including her ex and his fiancee - will be there and eager to meet him.

She has only four weeks to find someone willing to cross the Atlantic and aid in her deception. New York to Spain is no short flight and her raucous family won't be easy to fool.

Enter Aaron Blackford - her tall, handsome, condescending colleague - who surprisingly offers to step in. She's rather refuse; never has there been a more aggravating, blood-boiling, insufferable man.

But Catalina is desperate, and as the wedding draws near, Aaron looks like her best option. And she begins to realize he might not be as terrible in the real world as he is at the office.

"Five tacos - Aaron had gotten me five not four, like I had told him."

Review

This book is another one of those Book Tok and Bookstagram "absolutely must read." I heard a lot about this Adam Blackford character and seemed genuinely interested and went to buy the book for myself. When I found out this book is revolved around Catalina and Spanish culture, I thought I would actually enjoy it hoping that this American man is going to learn more about Spain.

This book is very similar to The Hating Game by Sally Thorne, taking place in an office setting and a fake dating trope. It started incredibly slow for at least 2/3 of the book and the last 1/3 actually being in Spain which I found very disappointing. A majority of the first half of the book definitely could be 100 pages shorter just to get to the plot of the book that actually made us pick it up in the first place - fake dating in Spain.

"How is it possible that it feels like you are breaking my heart, and I haven't even had you yet?"

The sexual tension between Aaron and Catalina came very quickly for the short few chapters that they were in Spain. Don't get me wrong, I love me a good one bed trope and the spice was... well SPICY. The character that Aaron was revealed to be once they touched down in Spain was astonishing - almost like he was a completely different person entirely. My biggest turn away from their relationship is their lack of enemies-to-lovers outside of the office, almost like their rivalry was simply for show.

Conclusion

This story lacked a huge part of their rivalry in and out of the office, resulting in the lack of an enemies-to-lovers trope that the book was meant to be centered around. If I were to choose between rereading this book and The Hating Game, I'd choose The Hating Game without a second thought. Secondly, this book was meant to be a fake dating at a wedding in Spain, which unfortunately did not last as long as I hoped it would and seemed pretty rushed just to get to the point of "they're actually lovers, here's your super sexy spice." This book could've been a whole lot shorter and skipped many of the insignificant details while in New York and expanded upon their time in Spain.

"'I'll give you the world,' he said against my mouth. 'The moon. The fucking stars. Anything you ask, it's yours. I'm yours."

All in all, if you'd like to experience this book for yourself then by all means go for it! However, this is not an enemies-to-lovers fake dating novel I would recommend to someone.

#authors #book blog #book review #bookish #books #booktok #reading #the spanish love deception #enemies to lovers #close proximity #one bed trope #fake dating

0 notes

kaiqarker · 3 years

Text

the watchtower’s lighthouse | stan vogel

pairing: stan vogel x reader

warnings: smut, swearing

summary: months after a disasterous first date with stan vogel, your paths cross once more when you’re lost within the depths of kern canyon national park during a thunderstorm and stan happens to have inherited a shift patrolling from the watchtower.

a/n: back from the dead because of this man. hope y’all enjoy :)

THE SKY EMULATED STAN VOGEL'S morals, consisting of gray unpredictability. If he was within the familiar walls of his assigned cabin, located along the grounds of Kern Canyon National Park, it would be an indication he wouldn't have to do much patrolling. Campers usually stayed put if there was rainfall, sticking to their own site and not off doing God knows what to the land Stan takes pride in preserving. Cascading a thick husk of superiority and knowledge was his favorite thing about the job, which is why he was disappointed he was stuck maintaining the watchtower for tonight.

The surveillance for the watchtower was run by a tight knit schedule of volunteers and the occasional firefighter that needed a change of scenery for a couple days. Needless to say with all the strange occurrences and sightings, there have been less and less people willing to take on the task. And now the duty was bestowed upon the park ranger— at least for tonight. He swore to himself that at sunrise he would be out of there and back to being the persistent, vexing gum stuck to the bottom of everyone's shoe.

Stan now sat in a wobbly chair, feet propped up on the desk and his trusty binoculars in hand. His surroundings were darkening, quicker than they would at his cabin because of the parade of trees towering over the area. He could mostly only see shadows and the outlines of the forest. His paranoia kept him on the lookout, knowing all too well what kind of perilous entities the park harbored, dark secrets he was trusted in keeping.

It was why his body jolted and he nearly fell out of his seat at a sign of movement. His hands itched to drop the binoculars and reunite with the shotgun propped up in the corner. His burst of anxiety was halted, however, once the lenses revealed a person. A wandering, soaked person clearly becoming victim to the thunderstorm that had been periodically easing and worsening for the past two hours.

Stan stood, walking over to the window with his binoculars hanging from the strap around his neck. He easily pried it open and stuck out his head. The drizzle of rain didn't reach him because of the roof stretching out along the perimeter of the watchtower, but he still felt the dip in the temperature. He estimated that it had dropped at least fifteen degrees since the start of the storm, the disappearance of the sun only escalating the drafty change.

He was about to shout down at what is most certainly a woman who had strayed too far from her campsite but then she twisted around, finally noticing the light emitting from up above. Recognization crumbles both of their attentive expressions. She becomes more than a drenched, carmine tank top, huddled body, and ropes of wet hair. He transforms into the exact opposite of a saving grace when his beige uniform and ironically angelic face are perceived.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is. Stalking your ex, eh?" Stan called down to her. The pattern of swift and drawned out words, swirled into a provoking and often mocking Australian accent, reached her ears over the light patter of rainfall.

She sighed, dramatically enough for Stan to see the rise and fall of her diaphragm. She considered turning around and braving the unknown of the wilderness again. If it wasn't for her sore feet and her prediction that she would develop some sort of hyperthermia if she stayed out in the cold, then she would've already been on her way.

"We went out on one date. You don't count as an ex," she clarified, craning her neck up at him. His smirk from knowing she was in a miserable condition and that he was the only one that could do anything about it ignited the first sense of heat she had felt in awhile. Her fists clenched against her crossed arms. "And you're the one with the pervy binoculars. On the prowel for half-naked campers, are you?"

He scoffed, winding his head to the side for a moment. "Enough with the bullshit. Are you coming up or not?"

In any other situation, he probably would've dragged their reunion out, teased her for being so helpless and naive. But she was shivering and looked so small curling into herself; it was a sight that played his heartstrings like a mystical harp. Even after a date gone wrong and the resentment that followed, he couldn't bare to see her like this.

She, on the other hand, still clung to some hesitation. Cozying up in a small, confined space with Stan where there were no other people around to ground her into the realms of sanity wasn't a compelling option. The both of them simply didn't get along. The nightmare of their date was very vivid in her mind, too, and she didn't want tonight to be a repeat of that.

Almost like nature could sense her doubts, thunder crackled and reverberated around the forest. Lightning flashed, incandescent and forbiding. The rain intensified, hitting her bare skin with a harsh force. Muddy shoes stumble forward a few steps but still don't gravitate towards the ladder.

"Better move your ass, sweetheart! Unless you'd prefer to get struck by lightning? Not to mention all the dangerous things lurking around that you haven't the slightest idea about."

Undeniable complacency was weaved into his taunt. However, it did get her moving. If she would've bothered to look up or if there wasn't such vast distance between them from their differing heights, she might've seen the concern nestled into glimmering, cobalt eyes.

Suffering through a climb where her wobbly legs and white knuckles were put the use, she eventually made it to top. Stan already had the latch swung open, bent down in the center of the room and waiting for her with an outstretched arm. Reluctantly, she took his offered hand and allowed him to pull her inside the watchtower.

"Crickey, you're freezing," he murmured. There was a softness to his features and the low timber of his voice. He'd even began rubbing over her fingers with his own, attempting to summon some warmth back into him, before he realized what he was doing and backed away.

"That's what happens when you get lost and separated from your friends and then get caught up in a storm," she summed up, monotonous.

"Your friends are idiots," Stan muttered.

She was about to deter the insults back his way until she suddenly felt a subtle weight on her shoulders. The scent combination of spearmint gum and lingering campfire smoke was sensed with a mere sniffle, and soon her hands were reaching up to pull on the sage green trim of his coat.

"You don't even know them," she settled for saying.

"They let you get lost, didn't they?" Stan's eyes found her wide ones, squinting slightly in familiar anger, but she could tell—this time at least—it wasn't directed towards her. "Yeah, bunch of mates, they are."

It was her turn to break the intimacy blossoming between them. She disconnects their stare that was inevitably going to convey all the unspoken feelings that still flourished inside of her to spare a glance over his shoulder. The furnace filled with a burning stack of dry wood lures her away from Stan, and she kneels down in front of it.

His hands go to his belt, elbows bent outward like he was posing as a chicken. He was unsettled by how consumed he was by his emotions. He wanted to give her space but then he finds himself reaching for her. He wanted to remain civil but the distaste in her tone and her infuriating, unreasonable glare casted towards him causes him to delve into his own hostile urges. The confusion of what to do and how to deal with her presence was boardering on insufferable.

But facing her, watching her beneath the firelight, the strain of his internal compass ebbed. He was no longer directionless or purposeless. The orange glare enducing a riveting shine to her hair and her tranquil countenance she upheld gazing into the flames had him feeling certain in just about every single thing that made the universe, the universe.

"You're staring," she whispers, a tremble in her reply she blames on recovering from the weather.

"And you won't even look over at me for a second." His observation coaxes her into peering at him, finding that he enclosed the distance between them by a few steps. A playful smile twitches across his lips. "What? Don't like a man in uniform?"

"I wouldn't be bragging about your outfit, Stan. You're a glorified Boy Scout," she remarks, rising from her position on her knees. Her thumb and pointer finger pinch the small, golden slate pinned to his shirt. "Even have badges and everything,"

"Get your grubby little hands away from my name tag. You're gonna smudge it," he grumbles, smacking her hand away; she lets out a humorless, short-lived laugh at his overreaction.

"Still an uptight asshole, I see."

"Still a mouthy brat, then?"

His retort makes her face harden. "Being honest doesn't make me a mouthy brat."

"Just inconsiderate?"

"You're preaching to me about being inconsiderate? You live off of ridiculing people. On our date, you insulted and humiliated our waiter because he didn't know the exact species of deer mounted to the wall."

"I was just taking a moment to educate him!"

"You called him a fumbling idiot who didn't know the basic fundamentals of biology!"

"Oh, like you were any better! Shoving your tits into the bartender's face to get free drinks!" He throws his hands up, easily overtaken by frustration and unresolved jealously.

"I know how much you make, Stan. You should be thanking me for that," she says slowly, deliberately, bringing up the one thing she knows will push him over the edge. He takes the bait, but she doesn't expect what he throws back at her.

"You're right. Thank you, sweetheart, for acting like such a slut on our first date that all anyone had to do for dessert was crouch down between your open legs."

Her mouth dropped at his statement. His exasperation dissolves to shock at processing his own harsh comment. He isn't able to focus on it for long, though, because she properly acts by allowing her palm to connect to his cheek.

Head snapped to the side, he can begin to taste a droplet of blood on his tongue, emitting from where his incisor pinched his bottom lip. He licks over the minor wound thoughtfully, heaving out a breath of false amusement. When he looks at her again, his face is dark and full of cruel intentions of revenge.

Stan surges forward and doesn't stop until her body crashes against the wall like she was just a bag of dismantled bones. His coat falls from her shoulders and slumps against the hardwood floor during the journey. His towering height and weight pin her in place, leaving her at the mercy of splayed hands and the relentless motions of his mouth against hers.

The awakening, leftover flavor of gum he must've chewed eariler just sinks in when he bites down hard on her lip. A whimper, the first sound she makes besides the ejection of a surprised gasp, is forced out her from the harsh gesture. A metallic taste replaces the one prior, one eager swipe of his tongue rolling past her parted lips.

The instinct to shoot her hands up and enmesh them in the soft, chestnut strands of his cropped hair is interrupted by an action of his own. He eases the intensity of the kiss, allowing her to breathe through languid, desperate puckers she reciprocates, but his fingers hook around both her bra and tank top straps, yanking them down her arms. She lifts herself out of them only to have him grasp the collar of her shirt and pull it down, her bra in tow, until they were just bundled material around her midriff.

Calloused hands fondled her breasts while his mouth diverts to her neck, sucking and nipping until her skin resembled the colorful patches of a quilt. She throws her head back against the wall, leaning into his touch and letting out the most delicate moans that had all of his blood gushing to the apex of his legs; she felt proof of it when he rutted himself against her.

Her forearms are squeezed between their bodies so she can reach the buttons of his shirt, manicured fingers working hastily and with not as much care she knew Stan would've liked, but he seemed to be too preoccupied by kissing her all over. Soon her hands were tugging up the white t-shirt he always wore underneath his uniform, and he helped her out by shifting it over his head and discarding it to the growing pile of clothes.

His chest was warm and inviting compared to hers. Her skin felt like cool marble underneath his fingertips, keeping her nipples pebbled and sweat from the heated exchange at bay. It was quite a contrast as their bodies continued to press together, her hands sliding along the expanse of his taut back while he concentrated on undoing her shorts.

"All mine," he mumbled against her jaw; it was certainly hard to disagree with him and all his handsy clutches and kisses that left her craving more.

"All yours," she confirmed softly.

The words barely left her mouth before she felt the heart-jolting sensation that was his hand sliding past her unzipped shorts and underwear. His fingers ran up and down down her folds, taking his time, ever the explorer. He often grazed her clit, encouraging her hips to arch into him for more direct contact, but he was careful to only give her a slight, fleeting amount.

"Stan." His name parted from her in a low whine—somewhat shamefully because she never thought she'd be in this circumstance, begging a hardass park ranger with a major superiority complex for a release.

"So wet for me. Awful naughty of you to get this soaked from one arguement with me, don't you think?"

She nuzzled her face into the side of his, nose brushing along his chiseled cheekbone. "Please."

"Aw, look at you. So sweet. You'd never think that you live to slander me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I am nothing but nice to you."

"Oh?" He inserts his middle finger into her, curling it precisely, while the heel of his hand grinds against her clit with every deliberate pump.

"Yes," she gasps.

Shallow pants gradually rack through her torso, and the ache of his throbbing cock becomes unbearable at the sight of her defenseless against his advances. He adds another finger, the grip and warmth of her slick walls causing him to shudder in anticipation.

"Such a little liar," he groans out after a particularly provocative contraction around his digits, one that rids him of whatever patience he had left.

He abruptly removes his hand from her shorts, something that makes her closed eyes flicker open. Her mouth immediately morphs into a pout and she squeezes his biceps in protest.

She isn't left waiting for long, hands on her hips guiding her away from the wall until the underside of her knees hit the edge of a cot. His mouth parts from hers once more, a sweet dragging of overlapped lips exchanged during the slow steps, so he can pull back the blanket. She looks over her shoulder at the neatly presented cot, which Stan must've brought with him along with his own fitted bedspread. She was now appreciative that he always came prepared.

Without having to be told, she crawled underneath the covers after ridding herself of the remainder of her clothing. Stan did the same once she was settled, becoming the final layer that draped over her body. The blanket and the crisp white of a top sheet stopped at the dimples of his back, and she was trapped in warmth, intensified by the glorious weight of his bare body on hers. Arms on either side of her head latch the cage as he leans down for another kiss.

"Don't mistake me keeping you warm as forgiveness. I'm still very mad at you. You drive me crazy," he sighs against her jaw, his eyelashes fluttering against the apple of her cheek.

"Don't mistake me moaning for you as an apology. You don't deserve one." Her strokes at the nape of his neck never faltered. Her thighs spread, legs winding around his, desperate for him to do something with his cock that laid twitching and swollen on her navel. "Well, you might if you fuck me hard enough."

"Shut up already."

Long fingers brick over her parted mouth in time with the repositioning of his hips, muffling the cries of consumption that came from him sinking inside of her. Eyes roll to the back of her head, almost completely sated by just the feeling of being filled. The head of his shaft glided against her most sensitive spot like a brush of shoulders, and her thighs tightening around his waist was her turning around, ready to chase shattering gratification.

Although slow, his thrusts into her were brutal. They held onto to each other like you would to ropes of a ruinous bridge connecting two cliffs, like they would be faced with a plummeting death if they were to let go. And yet, they were fighting along the wobbly planks, the semicircles of hip bones clashing together like medieval swords. It was all extremes, but neither of them would have it any other way.

He was making the most beautiful sounds above her. Through his ruthless motions, were breathy moans and whines of her name, the occasional praise intertwined into his enticing responses. Eventually, he allowed his hand to stop sealing her lips, sliding it down to clutch the flesh of her thigh with the promise of bruises. Her soft pleas and moans of euphoria joined his to create a symphony worthy of a ballet orchestra.

Strings of saliva conntected rouge lips to the marked skin of his neck, where she continued to suckle and playfully nip. The roll of their bodies picked up speed, both becoming impatient by the delicious ache they kept provoking, daring one another to spasm out of control. They craved for their muscles to become a tightrope and for the most intimate parts of them to pulsate from the finality of release.

"You've never looked prettier than you do right now. Your cunt squeezing me so tight, your mouth only able to form breathless whispers... completely wrecked. I love it."

"Please," she cannot help but beg, flickering eyes undecided on whether to shut her continue their hazy, half-lidded stare into his own.

"You want to come?" The inward pull of his eyebrows and the slight curl of his parted mouth way as well have been a mocking pout. "I know you do. I shouldn't even let you, though. You've been intolerable. I should just come all over your writhing body and leave you here without any satisfaction. Even if you were to finish yourself off, it wouldn't be enough. It would only feel subpar, and you know that, don't you?" His breath fans her face like the furnace had moments ago, and she can only whimper in reply. "Only I can sate you, sweetheart."

Her hands, whose nails had already inflicted damage to the freckled canvas of his back, sweep over his shoulders to cup his jaw. Her thumb strokes his jawline while the other ventures down the column of his throat, feeling the bob of his adam's apple with every constristing swallow he took. She could tell he was close, too, and decided to nod her head gently in agreement to his words, to wave her white flag.

Her surrender is reassured by fingertips dragging down her torso to her enlarged clit, granting bone-vanishing swipes that causes stuttered gasps and limbs going slack. It only takes a few seconds of coaxing rubbing for her release to erupt, the molten lava bursting from the pit of her stomach to electrify just about every nerve in her body. Her encompassing walls clutch around him so tightly that it summons a delirious climax from him.

His strenuous pace wavers, his hold on the cot becoming prudent, as if it was a buoy keeping him afloat through the thrashing waves of pleasure. White, sticky ribbons coat the inside of her thighs, and it's only when his heartbeat ebbs from his eardrums that he cracks his eyes open and collaspes into the small remaining space between her and the wall.

Stan speaks after catching his breath, remaining pants interwoven into his declaration. "This should've happened sooner."

"It would've if you weren't such a prick," she noted, sparing him a quick glance.

"Okay, maybe... I wasn't on my best behavior. But I was nervous. I liked you a lot. I wanted to impress you."

"And you thought bragging about how you're a know-it-all when it comes to plants and wildlife and the park's terrain was going to the trick?"She questioned, snorting at his logic. His nose twitch, an indicator of embarrassment, and she grabs his arm and tucks herself into his side. "You're such a dork."

He smiled at the gesture before she continued, "I'm sorry that I flirted with the bartender. I didn't mean to make you feel like you were second best or anything. Honest to God, I just wanted free stuff."

"Well, the cream puffs you got out of it were actually delicious," Stan admitted, tilting his head in her direction.

She smiled back at him. "I know, right?"

Stan may not be a prime example of a good guy but he had always took glory in being good at his job. That's what kept him going, that's what fueled him all these years. Now, he was considering what life entailed outside of that. Outside of the stressful responsibilities and government conspiracies and the never-ending studious tendencies. She came to him for refuge tonight, but, the truth is, he had been relying on her for a long time. To fascinate him, to stand up to him, to guide him back to where he belonged.

He felt like he was finally pursuing something that was more important than his duties here, than anything else he's ever experienced. He was an off-bound ship, cruising blind into the dead of the night, and she was a lighthouse, promising purpose and salvation from every bad thing that ever tried to sink him.

// idk who to tag but i think @sojournmichael @fckinsupreme & @instinctsxbaby might be interested (you’re all so talented)!

#ahs #cody fern #american horror story #american horror stories #stan vogel #stan vogel smut #cody fern smut #xavier plympton smut #ahs stories #stan vogel x reader

219 notes · View notes

slightlymore · 4 years

Text

red

part of the ‘soulmates collection’

(slytherin) doyoung x (ravenclaw) fem reader

others: (gryffindor) haechan | renjun mentioned like once

warnings: oral f and m, penetration, unprotected, marking m receiving, body possessiveness in a magical way (? i made this up lol I hope its not that weird. like the plot point is a little cringy but I found it hilarious as I wrote it so I hope you don’t get mad at me when you discover what’s it about lol); a lot of bickering and insults; swearing

words: 9.5k (lol)

requested by anon that wanted academic fights turn into mad sex aha I got inspired by that to make a longer fic with more depth to it (if it's alright) hope you like it! this is one of my favourite pieces I’ve written so far!!!! 👀👅👀

_____

As the rays of the sun hit the announcement board, your eyes darted on the pages filled with small characters.

A little crowd of people started to chatter behind you, trying to see the ranking sheet as well, but no one dared to come close enough to push into you - the Ravenclaw Prefect.

“Renjun? Whose dick did you suck to get 6th?” a voice giggled before a loud smack transformed the airy laugh in a dramatic “ouch”. “Lee Haechan, I swear I’ll-” but you didn’t get to hear the rest as your vision got suddenly blurry with rage and your ears started to whistle when your shoulder got bumped forcing you to make a few ungraceful steps to the side.

“What’s that face for, YLN?”

You tightened your fists.

You could have recognized that annoying voice in a thousand others: Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin Prefect and the person you hated most in the whole universe.

“Ah, right,” he hit his fist on one palm turning his head with fakely widened eyes. “You’re second place. Again.”

You hated Kim Doyoung and everything that had to do with him.

His voice? Hideous.

The fragrance of the fabric softener on his clothes? Repugnant.

His favourite dishes at the cafeteria? Revolting.

His favourite authors? Idiots.

Everything reminded you of him and one time you had a literal meltdown in a supplies shop as every notebook and pen has been seen in his backpack at a certain point.

“I see that manners are still very difficult for you to master, Kim,” you spit out his last name.

Doyoung laughed. “I apologize profusely for not following useless societal rules such as manners the way your finite mind intends.”

An echo of little “ohh” surrounded you but abruptly stopped as you threw a venomous glance at the little crowd behind you.

“Is this what you’ve been doing to get in the first place? Not following the rules?” you cocked an eyebrow at Doyoung.

The tongue inside his cheek moved around for a few seconds before he crossed his arms on his chest and got closer until his feet clashed with yours.

You didn’t step back.

“Is this an accusation?”

You pursed your lips as if thinking and Doyoung let you put on the little theatre act before he could hear your “Maybe?”

A single dry and unamused scoff came out of his lips as his eyes stared you down from head to toes.

“So you’re resorting to - this?” he gestured vaguely. “You’re that bitter that you couldn’t keep your first place for two whole semesters now?”

“Oh? It hurt so badly the first time that you kept track of it, baby boy?” you cooed.

The new nickname threw him off for a split second and although he was quick to come back to his usual expression you noticed it and you smiled triumphantly.

The crowd was collectively holding its breath.

He opened his mouth to say probably something stupid as usual when the voice of the professor interrupted you and the spell got shattered.

“Come inside little roosters. Preserve that energy for the class debate.”

Previously silent to not miss a single exchange you had with Doyoung. everyone suddenly started to chat while making their way inside the classroom.

You both still didn’t move a single muscle, your eyes still trained on each other like predators. “I said-,” the professor clicked his fingers between your faces, “-come inside.”

_____

“I can’t fucking believe this.”

Your university was overall a good place with good and proficient rules. You followed them all and you enjoyed it. But there were also a few rules you suddenly realized you hated. Like the “your seat in the study room will be your seat for the rest of the semester and whoever seats in somebody else's seat during the year, said somebody can slash their shins”.

You would have loved to see Doyoung sitting at your place. His long legs could use some kicking. But unfortunately, something even worse happened.

He was sitting right in front of you.

“Why are you here?” you added, throwing your bag on the desk in front of him and making a few of his papers fly on the floor.

Doyoung sighed seeing his stuff gently falling around and raised his eyes with the most venomous smile he could pull off.

“The Gryffindor gentleman over there-” he indicated towards his previous’ semester desk, “took my seat so I had to find another one.”

You followed his pointed finger and spotted Lee Haechan in the midst of popping a chewing gum bubble.

He winked.

You rolled your eyes.

He made an obscene gesture revolving a tongue in the cheek and hand motions.

You returned the favour with your middle finger.

“And you had to sit here of all places. You let a Gryffindor snatch your place.”

Doyoung licked his lower lip before taking it inside his mouth for a moment.

“Miss ‘manners’ and miss ‘following the rules’ is mad that I, mister ‘fuck useless rules’ and fuck ‘useless manners’ didn’t smack a boy in the head to get a desk?”

You breathed in slowly and exhaled before you could scream at him.

“I don’t want to see you every day in front of me.”

Doyoung pinched the base of his nose before speaking.

“Listen, I also don’t want to see your face this close every day for a whole semester but it is what it is. All the other seats are taken. Stop whining or go and suck Lee’s dick to get his desk instead.”

You scoffed incredulously and plopped down with force, ignoring the boy’s sighs as the movement made some other papers fall.

"You're insufferable,” he whispered.

"I am insufferable?" you stopped taking the books from your bag then suddenly dropped the heaviest one, making the whole desk tremble.

Doyoung looked at you then smirked. "You're in a worse mood than usual. Is it because you couldn't reach the top?"

He leaned in as if about to share a secret. "Are you frustrated that I'm always in your mind 24/7?"

His dark eyes looked like two abysses and suddenly you felt like falling into them. Then he blinked once, slowly, and you blinked too, the sudden silence chatter of the study room bringing you to the surface.

Fuck Slytherins and their weird-ass magnetic eyes. You wanted to smack him in the fucking face.

"So I see you keep wanting to be ridiculous as always," you replied but you both realized how soft your tone got.

You cleared your throat - don’t talk to me anymore! it said - and you opened your books, eyes unable to look at Doyoung's face.

He got the hint and leaned back into his seat amused, playing with his pencil. It rolled on his fingers, then on his knuckles and when he placed it on the desk with sudden force you jolted.

"If you want to surpass me, stop staring at my hands and get on studying."

Doyoung had to slide away with his chair for you to not reach his throat and choke him.

_____

"So do you want to choke him with his tie or do you want him to choke you with his tie?" "I want to choke you." Haechan smirked. "I'm not sure I'm into that stuff but we can try it out." "I can't believe you did this to me." "Ah come on. Everyone is having fun. He's having fun. You're the only one taking it too seriously." "I am not taking it seriously. I'm just annoyed every time I see his face. 'The best option is to reinvent yourself'" you mocked Doyoung's voice during philosophy class. "You can reinvent the world first. What kind of selfish nonsense is that?" "Slytherin nonsense. But still, he had good points to his discourse- ahi." "Go and be his friend then." "I would, but I'm stuck here with you because--ahi."

"You're always getting hit, Lee," that voice interrupted your discourse.

You rolled your eyes and breathed out so heavily that for a split moment you thought someone transformed you into a horse.

"Hit on, by girls." "I will hit you too if you don't leave my desk," Doyoung smiled peacefully. "Well," Haechan got up slowly, "I wouldn't mind that either."

Doyoung bit his lower lip amused and to your absolute shock he winked at your friend. Haechan laughed and left you two alone.

"What was that?"

Doyoung sat down ready to get to work. "Huh?"

"Were you friendly just now?"

Doyoung blinked at you as if processing the question. "Yeah? I am friendly usually."

"Why are you not friendly with me?"

Doyoung's expression suddenly trembled on his face like a mask. He looked up surprised and for a split moment, he appeared weirdly younger, with his open lips and wide eyes. You stared at each other for a few seconds and it was the first time you didn't feel like opening up his guts.

But then he smiled and it all got back to you. "Because I hate you,” he explained.

_____

The ball was okay. A normal ball just like all of the other boring balls you were forced to attend each start of the semester. No alcohol, at least not offered from the university but definitely offered by the older students. All said students dressed well, but following the decency rules which led to boring outfits.

Your red dress was the boldest thing around and Ravenclaw cheered upon your entry in the Grand Hall.

A cool Prefect? Yeah, you had to be one if you wanted to beat Kim Doyoung.

At the moment everyone liked him more since he let his people smuggle liquor into the university but you weren’t about to fall to such low standards to win.

But food? Hell yeah.

It was not illegal and everyone wanted to have pizza instead of finger food made of hell knows what.

“Y/N, if you continue like this, I’ll probably fall in love with you,” a random dude smiled, helping himself. You smiled back at him, glad that cute guys wanted to talk to you.

“Well-,” you started, ready to bat your eyelashes, but the guy suddenly jolted, the piece of pizza he was holding literally flying from his hands and landing on his face instead.

You yelped, bringing your hands to your mouth in shock, staring at the way it slowly slid from his nose down on his impeccable white shirt.

“Shit,” he threw the pizza away on the bin at his right and made his way through the crowd with spicy tomato sauce in his eyes.

“You got all kinds of pizzas and not my favourite topping,” Doyoung suddenly materialized near you with a dramatic sigh, scaring the shit out of you. “You!” you turned your head to him and pointed your finger at his face. Doyoung stared at your fingertip then at your eyes. “You did that to the guy just now!”

The boy blinked at you as if you were crazy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shook his head but when he took a piece of pizza and started to munch on it, one hand waving at you and walking towards his friends, you noticed the way he smiled.

_____

A few hours later, people were scattered around the campus, most of them in bed “sleeping”, some of them actually already sleeping since it was almost morning.

The prefects were still in the hall, wrists twisting and eyes annoyed at the chore of having to clean up after the ball.

“It’s going to take you only half an hour, my children,” the headmistress chuckled brightly. “You’re prefects for a reason. Other children don’t have your advanced magical power and would end up cleaning for a whole day. Responsibilities. Am I right?”

“She could clean in 5 minutes yet here we are,” the Gryffindor prefect mumbled after she left, leaving behind an obnoxious perfume cloud.

If the ball would have at least been fun, it would be different now, cleaning while at least being a little euphoric.

But not only was it the most boring and uneventful party ever, you also had to do Kim Doyoung’s part since he was as slow as a snail.

“Get your shit together. We can clean much faster if you get your ass up,” you stared him down with hands on your hips.

Doyoung looked up at you from the chair he was sprawled on, one hand to sustain his head, the other twisting while his finger lazily transported a flying bottle of beer across the room.

“I am working.”

You scoffed. “You’re the best at object moving. If you wanted, you could also finish everything in 5 minutes.”

The boy tilted his head to the side, suddenly focused and amused. “Are my ears failing me, or did you just compliment me?”

“If you need my praise to do your job, then yes, Kim, you’re very good at this type of magic.”

Doyoung chuckled happily and got up. With a smack of his lips, he rolled his wrists and all the trash disappeared from the floors and tables appearing into the trash cans instead. The Hufflepuff prefect whistled, impressed, and the Gryffindor sighed upon realizing he had worked his ass off for nothing.

You put your tongue in your cheek annoyed but also secretly happy he actually did it. “Floors.”

Doyoung took out his tongue in the most annoying habit he had. Your eyes involuntarily darted towards it and he smiled.

“You’re such a snake when you do that.” “Okay, crow. Deal with your floors yourself then,” he passed you and walked towards the exit.

The other prefects already left, too tired to deal with your bickering and probably relieved that someone else could clean up much faster.

You stared at his back, annoyed, then twisted your wrist to pull his body back towards you. His black jacket moved as if a gentle breeze blew across him and Doyoung stopped.

“Wait, sorry-” he laughed and turned around, his voice echoing in the gigantic empty room ringing inside your skull. “-were you perhaps trying to do-” he twisted his wrist and you yelped, feet dragging across the pavement as if your body was being pulled by an invisible force until you clashed on his chest, “-this?” he finished.

Your hands were up on his shirt and for a few moments your brain couldn’t think anything besides, first, how good he smelled, and second, it was the first time for you to actually touch each other.

“If you’re so good at this, then clean the floors as well, so we can finally go.”

He stared you down.

“Ask nicely.”

You scoffed incredulously. “I’d rather clean it with my own hands than do that.”

He smiled. "You want to kiss me so badly, Y/N."

“I-- what? Are you drunk?”

“Why are you so flustered?”

“I am--not-” you grabbed the hand he raised to cup your face, “flustered! I am appalled.”

“I want to kiss you.”

Breathing has never been a difficulty for you and you’ve always laughed at main characters in books talking so extensively about air, but at that moment, your hand still holding Doyoung’s one, your chests pressing against each other and his eyes, fuck, you actually started to slightly pant. What was wrong with him?

“If you stopped using your snake powers-” “This is no power. It’s just you being attracted to me,” he finally cupped your face and this time you didn’t move away. “Check on it. You can pull away.”

He was right. But if that wasn’t some slytherin doing then you were probably going crazy because you saw your hands move almost on their own on Doyoung’s shoulders.

Then you actually leaned in and he met you halfway.

Your limbs were trembling when he brushed his lips on yours and to your surprise, they were warm and soft.

Then he pulled you even closer and you whined for no reason besides your brain yelling ‘this is so nice!!!! we love dopamine!!!’ at you.

And you sought for some more.

When you licked his lower lips, Doyoung’s hands had a tremor on your waist but he was quick to adjust to your sudden burst of passion with the same energy.

Of all the things that you anticipated that night, making out with Kim Doyoung was definitely not one of them. Then why you felt relieved as if finally doing somethig you’ve ached to do for so long?

Did he want to kiss you?

He was currently kissing you at that moment?

Absurd.

Yet there you were, panting and desperate for each other, unable to stop drinking each other’s breaths.

“I’m taking you to my room,” he whispered and the look in his eyes was something you’ve never seen before.

____

Suffocating.

You were suffocating as your breath was taken away from your lungs at Doyoung's every touch on your back.

First your neck with his cold knuckles, then your spine to reach the zip of your red dress. He opened it slowly imitating the pace of his soft lips on your jaw. And when the fabric fell to your feet you turned around, your arms quick to pull him into a messy kiss, while his hands fell on your hips, pushing you towards the silky bed.

You sat down and got quickly on your knees to be able to reach his face again.

Doyoung, standing near the edge of the bed, closed his eyes when you drifted your attention from his lips to his neck then chest, placing a kiss on the newly exposed skin every time you made a button pop open. His abdomen twitched every time and when you reached his navel you palmed his torso up, enjoying his shaky breath when the shirt fell off his shoulders.

A little chuckle coming from you made him look down at your sultry face, the hue of the red lights and lit candles dancing on your skin. Then he stared at his own body. Dozens of kisses adorned it in the colour of your lipstick.

"If I can't mark you, I can at least do this," you raised one eyebrow at him, hands gently dealing with his belt. "Who said you can't mark me?" "Hm?" you opened his pants zip and you could have sworn that Doyoung's eyes flickered. "You really want to go around all covered in hickeys?"

The boy smiled and cupped your face, his thumb slowly caressing your lower lip. "Do it where it can't be seen then."

So you let your tongue out on your amused lips and leaned down to reach the skin above the waistband of his underwear. Your tip wetted his skin making his take in a deep breath. "Is here alright?" you whispered against his warm body.

Doyoung's hand found his place on your nape and you took it as consensus, gingerly taking his skin inside your mouth and sucking on it. A red spot already started to form and you sucked again near it, and again, before suddenly placing a kiss on his clothed bulge instead.

Doyoung drank air through his teeth at the unexpected touch and his fingers got to your shoulders, pushing you into the bed before your legs could wrap around his waist.

His tongue inside your mouth was as delicious as the silk your body was rubbing against. It made its way down your neck then chest and when it reached your perked nipples your knees buckled and you grabbed that red silk with your fists. Little soft whimpers escaped your lips and they became louder as Doyoung's fingers got between your legs. They scratched the lace of your panties and you lifted your hips as he dragged them down. The boy, then, palmed your skin and placed open kisses on it from the ankle down and every touch closer made you lose a bit of your self-control.

You really were about to fuck Kim Doyoung.

What kind of sick and twisted situation was that?

Were you bewitched?

Did he do something to you?

But when his lips reached your dripping core, tongue quick to collect your juice, it didn't matter.

If this was the consequence of you getting bewitched, you wanted it to happen every day. And you told him. You hand gripped his hair and your back arched, profanities quickly spilling out of your chest. Doyoung cupped your ass, pressing his thumbs into your flesh and you let your thighs drape over his shoulders.

Why was he that good? It honestly offended you to find out that Kim Doyoung aced pussy eating too besides everything else.

And when he stopped to breathe, you saw his eyes and his juicy lips.

It was the sexiest view you’ve ever seen in your life so you yanked his head toward your face and he obliged with a panting smile.

Making out while his long fingers pumped inside of you was the highlight of your university career, and you cared about the curriculum a lot.

And when he curled them upwards, touching spots inside of you that made you lose vision, you were ready to beg him to do it to you as often as possible.

"Cumming- I'm--ah-"

Doyoung got back between your legs and added his tongue to the action again.

It was too much.

His books flew from his shelves as you reached the highest climax of your life.

He chuckled, peppering your shaking body in soft kisses. “I thought you weren’t good at object moving.” You breathed heavily a few more moments before finally finding your voice again. Doyoung reached your lips and you shivered upon feeling his hard cock resting between your legs. He stared at your expression as he lightly hit your oversensitive clit with its tip then rubbed himself between your folds with a sigh. “You’re the one good at moving, so please, move.” The boy bit your lower lip, stretching it out a little before sucking on it, one hand to cup your hip and the other grabbing the silk near your head. He got you so wet that he didn’t need much to easily slip inside of you. He cursed with heavy breath and you wondered if your nails were leaving marks on his back skin as he moved his hips.

You didn't have Doyoung only in your brain like usual, thinking about him day and night. You finally had him physically so deep inside that you thought you were about to lose your mind.

So this was it, the sweet overwhelming sensation of being in the present instead of chasing something in the future.

It was just like everyone described it to be, everything.

But it wasn't a moment in time or space as you’ve anticipated. It was a person and that person, you realized, was Doyoung.

If your mouth wasn’t busy spilling his name out of it inside his soft lips and if his hums didn’t make your whole being vibrate, you would have probably laughed at the destiny.

"You are, so fucking, hot-," you whispered breathlessly, eyes barely able to stay open to drink in his image. "So you admit it. You think I'm sexy," you could see his smirk even in the red darkness of his room. "I wouldn't let you ram into me like this if I thought otherwise." "Oh really? And yet I was here thinking you were doing charity since 'no girl would want to make my dick wet'." You chuckled before the sounds could get interrupted by your high moans instead, the frustration that phrase gave to Doyoung translating into his hips thrusting even harder. "I take that back." "Are you trying to say that you want me to slow down? You can’t take this?" "Oh, no, I love how you're fucking me as if you hate me." "But I don’t actually hate you”, you wished to hear at least for a split second but no word came out of the boy's lips, his hips slowing down instead as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

It was as good as his fast thrusts, his strokes so fluid and deep it made you grunt every time he pressed into you. He was so good that it irritated you.

"You really like to do the opposite of what I want, huh?" "Yeah," his voice inside your ear made your skin get goosebumps. “I love your frustrated expression and mannerism.” "Ah, shit-" you dug your nails into his back as the bed started to creak. "A good girl like you swearing like this? Who taught you?" "It's your influence." "Am I turning you bad?" "Yeah. Every time you're around I want to do bad things and I have no idea what's going on." You didn't expect to be that honest but Doyoung's intimate presence was like a drug, making you feel so high that you were ready to get twisted by him in every way he wanted.

No. You desired it. You wanted Doyoung to play with you and for once you would not resist it at all. You would beg for more.

And when he actually took you there, in a place where your thoughts did not exist anymore, where only his touch grounded you, the hand that pushed you over the edge and the one bringing you back up, you did just that. You asked for more, shaking uncontrollably on his luscious bed and he did what you wanted. For once he granted every wish you had and even beyond that.

_____

Your desire to leave his room that night was not as strong as you anticipated.

Doyoung arms didn't want to let go and you didn't fight him at all.

Sighing, you got back to his chest and didn't comment on the way he tightened his hold on you. If this wasn’t the way people-that-hate-each-other-but-like-to-weirdly-fuck-for-some-reason behaved, it would be a concern for your conscious mind and not for your fucked up one.

His scent was inebriating and if you didn't know the way he could make you feel, you would have thought that it was the highest form of aphrodisiac.

And maybe it was actually making you feel high because under your lids you could have sworn that the room slowly changed colour.

You opened your sleepy eyes and stared at the wall behind Doyoung’s shoulder, blinking hard.

It was dark blue, almost black, with a myriad of little bright lights.

The candles went out and the room did get dark after Doyoung rolled over breathless, his cum dripping slowly on your thigh, but you were pretty sure there were no stars before.

And when you shifted to rest on your back you almost choked on your own spit.

You weren’t looking at the night sky.

No. You were inside the sky.

Purple, whites, yellows and pinks all melted together to form galaxies and cosmic dust.

No roof, no walls, no pavements, just the bed, Doyoung and you in the middle of everything.

Your fingers dug into the arm Doyoung had thrown across your chest and perhaps you made some type of sound because the boy opened his eyes to stare at your profile. “Do you like it?” he murmured. Your head snapped towards his face and his eyes reflected the infinite little lights as if he held two other universes inside of them. “How is this possible?” He smiled sheepishly. “Slytherin rooms. They change based on the owner’s mood.” You felt your mouth open on its own. “This is your doing?” Doyoung hummed and closed his eyes again, pulling you towards him to hold you like before. You let him place his chin on top of your head and breathed in his scent yet again.

“So the red room?” “I was horny.” You smiled. “And how do you feel now?” “A little less horny. If I’m not careful you’ll see a whole star engulf us soon.” “This is so unfair. We don’t have such cool rooms.” “Or maybe you do but being Ravenclaws you’re all thinking of boring, brown looking rooms.”

You rolled your eyes even if he couldn’t see you and gently, you placed a hand on his chest, close to your face and above his heart. You could feel the calm and peaceful beats in syntony with the night sky. To know that inside that boy’s mind could be such beauty made your heart not beat as calmly as his heart did.

You had no idea what you were doing, hugging so intimately with your sworn enemy, and maybe it was the romantic vibe that made you do it since there was no rational explanation to any of it, but you raised your face to meet his lips.

And you just kissed him. Slowly and softly, barely brushing them with yours.

Doyoung opened his eyes for a moment, as if surprised, but upon feeling you pressing yourself on his body he closed them again and pulled you on top of him.

The universe didn’t change, although, when you let your tongue inside his mouth, slowly, as if having all the time in the world at your feet, the stars flickered and got brighter.

“Are you trying to see a star up close? I can make it happen without you rubbing yourself on me,” he smiled on your lips. “What happens when you suddenly lose control?” Doyoung’s pupils trembled and the room started to shake. You knew it wasn’t real but you still jolted and looked around terrified. “Let’s find out.”

_____

"I, saw, you, leave, with, Kim, Doyoung, last night," Haechan chanted teasingly as he sat down with his breakfast tray.

You wanted to keep a poker face but your facial muscles weren't under your control so you smiled.

"Oh!! Look at her! Oh my God. So- wow. Okay. Okay," Haechan tried to compose himself. "Is he any good?" he leaned in lowering his voice.

You sighed and nodded. "So fucking good."

Haechan squealed and hit your shoulder before wrapping it with one arm and wobbling you around.

"Stop it!" you hissed amused. "Everything hurts." "EVERYTHING HURTS! So he's got a monster cock."

"Shut up!" you pressed your hand on his mouth scandalized as Doyoung made his way inside the cafeteria with his friends.

You breathed in slowly and just as slowly you exhaled, trying to relax. Haechan made an effort to appear calm as well. "Sup, Kim." You smiled.

The other boy looked your way as he walked behind your table. "Hey, Lee," then he turned to you. "Y/L/N."

And left.

Just like that.

He looked at you for one second and continued on his way to the Slytherin tables.

No smile.

No acknowledgement.

Cold just like before.

As if nothing had happened.

You stared at his back, feeling your limbs heavy like stone. Turning around slowly, you grabbed your fork and started to eat in silence. "Hey." Haechan lightly bumped your arm with his shoulder. "He's probably just feeling awkward." You munched slowly and took it as an excuse to keep quiet. "Hey, come on." "What?" Haechan sighed. "You can say that you're disappointed that he-" "I don't know what you're talking about."

_____

For the first time, instead of feeling rage inside your gut, you felt anxious.

Doyoung was in front of you, face almost hidden under his hair as he typed into his computer. He greeted you as he usually did before the, well, before you let him see the deepest parts of you, figuratively and physically. But after that single “hey” no other words came from his part.

It wouldn't have been that weird if only a few hours ago he didn't kiss your lips in heaven.

When you woke up that morning, the night sky wasn’t there anymore. At his place were clouds. White fluffy clouds in the middle of a pink sky.

It was breathtaking and you felt like flying.

And he did kiss you softly.

And now he acted as if you weren't even there.

Maybe Haechan was right. Maybe he was feeling awkward. It's not like he could suddenly act lovingly in front of the whole campus. You were still enemies after all. And maybe you were also right.

You've just fucked. It's not like you started to date. He had no obligations towards you.

Yet, when his fingers drew your spine and his sigh caressed your lips, it didn't seem just fucking to you.

Was Doyoung like that? Was that his personality? Was he doing that to all the girls he brought into his room? Making them cum multiple times and showing them his soft side? Was that a well-plotted plan? Was he trying to hurt you?

You were ready to let him do whatever he wanted to you the previous night, yet at that moment, under the bright sunlight of the study room, you felt sick. It was a weird feeling. It grabbed at your throat and travelled down to your heart making it difficult for you to breathe.

You trusted him with your feelings and you let him see your vulnerable side.

Did he laugh? Was he feeling triumphant now? Did he win a battle against you? He had you on his palm? Because, God, he did have you on his palm now and with only a twist of his wrist he could get you into his arms again.

And you would have let him.

You hated it. You fell so hard it hurt everywhere. You were dizzy and confused and you couldn't look at him anymore.

_____

It was easy to avoid Doyoung for the following days. It was almost too easy as if he was trying to avoid you too. So walking towards the library you jolted hearing his low voice inside one of the classrooms. You stopped in place and after a few seconds of thinking you peeped inside. Then you gulped and hid under the door window.

He was resting his hips on the professor's desk, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed on his chest. In front of him was standing one of the most beautiful girls you've ever seen.

She was talking with a peaceful tone and Doyoung suddenly laughed. You got up and quickly walked away.

_____

"How the fuck would I know?" the girl asked.

Doyoung rolled his eyes. "Your dad designed them. You must know more than me."

"Listen. We're the only house with mood rooms because we're the only people who can control their emotions. It's not my fault you're a terrible Slytherin and your room has been pitch black for the past days."

Doyoung sighed in irritation. "What the fuck does that even mean though?"

"Usually mourning."

The boy shook his head. "No one died."

"Then it can be a general pain. Or confusion," the girl explained.

Doyoung raised his gaze on her. "What would I be so confused about?"

She shrugged. "You're the only one that can know. Chill out maybe and stop thinking when you're inside of it. I'll ask my dad how to turn it off and I'll let you know. Now leave me alone, I'm busy," she said and left the classroom.

_____

"Hey," Doyoung said. "That's my pencil."

You looked down at your fingers and furrowed your eyebrows.

"No. This is mine."

The boy sighed. "I can sense it's mine."

"I legit bought it yesterday. And what are you? A psychic? 'I can sense it's mine'."

"I'm a Slytherin. We're snakes. Everything I lick is mine. And I can sense that's mine."

Your mouth opened slightly and you waited for him to laugh but Doyoung remained serious.

"That has to be a joke."

"Okay, keep it. It just makes me feel giddy when things I own are used by other people." "Because you're selfish." "It's a real sensation. I know when something I licked is being used by somebody else," and he raised his eyes on you. You stared back and the weight of his words made your throat close.

I hope it doesn't work with people too, you wanted to ask, but the noise on your left interrupted you.

"Can I talk to you?" the same girl from a few days ago suddenly made her appearance near your desk. Doyoung looked at her surprised. "Yeah." "Bring me to your room," she ordered.

_____

You shouldn't have been there.

It was useless and it would only make you further lose your mind.

But your feet descended the Slytherin corridor, nose following the trail of the girl's perfume until arriving at Doyoung’s door.

You remained still for a moment and after a few seconds of indecisiveness you suddenly turned around going back.

That was too creepy. You had absolutely no reason to be there. If Doyoung wanted to fuck that girl, so be it.

But then you stopped again.

Fuck.

Just, just a little glance. Just a tiny little glance. Just the colour. Just to be sure.

You didn't turn around to actually see anything. With your back towards the door, you twisted your wrist, doing the most illegal thing one can do inside the campus - transparency spell. A tiny portion of the wall disappeared at your silent command and you could see the red hue spilling outside of it on the dark pavement at your feet.

It was enough and you barely saw the stairs when you got out of the basement.

_____

"You weren't lying when you said it's pitch black. It even absorbs magic light."

Doyoung sighed.

The girl presumably turned around because Doyoung heard her voice more clearly when she spoke again.

"Okay, so this is what we're gonna do. Sit down somewhere and relax."

The boy let himself fall on the carpet with a grunt.

"Close your eyes."

He obliged even if he could have let them open too for all it mattered.

"Now, think of someone of your choice."

Doyoung's mind automatically drifted towards you and the room besides being dark, felt suddenly very cold as well.

"No, okay, Doyoung, change the person." "She's the only one I can think about." The girl sighed. "Well, at least we know the reason for all of this. God, it's so fucking cold, try to not think about anything for a second!"

"It's hard, okay?"

"Okay, fuck. Think about her but imagine something else. Think of a good memory you have with her."

Doyoung sighed irritated and furrowed his eyebrows even more. "I don't think this is going to work."

But when he let his mind imagine your panting expression underneath him, a slight red hue started to create from the floor going up to the walls.

The girl exulted. "Yes! Don't stop. Continue thinking about that!"

Doyoung opened up one eye as the girl exulted again and he could finally see the furniture in his room.

It was a dark red, not the bright red he actually had his room painted in when he held you into his arms, but enough for him to not get a headache 24/7.

"Well it's not like I can think about--that, every time I need to be in my room, can I?" he got up.

The girl knew what red meant and she chuckled.

"Don't you have any other good memory with her besides fucking?"

The room got bright red.

The girl laughed even harder.

"Ah, shut up." "Hey, I helped you out." "Barely," he plopped on the bed and put his face into his palms.

It could have been considered a gesture coming from embarrassment if the lights didn't start to get dim again.

"God, you're really all over the place, huh?" she sat near him. "What happened? Is she your ex?”

Doyoung sighed and directed his gaze upon an indistinct point in front of him. Maybe he was tired, or maybe it was the dark room and the fact that Doyoung didn’t even remember the girl’s name, making her a safe stranger, but he whispered.

"I made a mistake. I thought she was into me so-- fuck, I went down on her."

The girl made a surprised sound but waited for the most important part.

“Well, she’s not into me, but I am.”

"You're so stupid!"

"Yeah okay, thanks."

"We're Slytherins! It's not like we don't give head because we're prude, it's to prevent this! You horny dumbass." "I thought she liked me! I had no idea she'd- fuck someone else right after!" Doyoung grunted frustrated and fell back on the bed, the room getting to the pitch-black from before.

The girl let the silence calm him down a bit before talking.

"I am sorry. I had things used by others but I don't know what it feels like with people."

"It's not necessarily painful but- knowing the reason, it's just-"

"Yeah. You just have to let her go so the bond is receded. Like with things, you know?"

"It's easy to let go of a thing that's yours. How can I manage to let go of her?"

The girl sighed and remained in silence.

_____

You had no idea how you managed to remain seated in front of Doyoung that morning.

His complexion was paler than usual and his eyes were very tired. As if he didn't sleep enough last night. Or at all.

You had to breathe in and out slowly to ease the pain inside your stomach.

"You look terrible."

Doyoung's dark irises under his low lids made your skin crawl when he looked up at you.

"Is someone keeping you too active to get enough sleep?" you asked again, trying hard to get back to the tone you both were used to before.

The boy tightened his lips in a mockery smile. "Yeah. As discussed, I have no problem keeping my dick wet."

"Well-," you frowned with a raised chin, your lips forming a pout for a moment before you forced them to keep the poker face, "-I started to see someone lately too."

He looked unbothered. "As in dating or hallucinations?"

You ignored his comment.

“We’ve already been on three dates,” you lied.

“And you’re telling me this because-?”

You shrugged. “Conversation.”

“I hate small talk.”

“Is there something you don’t hate?”

“Silence. And smart people, which given your latest test results, you’re not.”

You had no idea what it was.

You and Doyoung had always called each other names, insulted each other’s intelligence and the sorts, yet at that moment, maybe because of your failing tests, the alignment of stars or the fact that you were actually in love with him, you burst into tears.

It took Doyoung a few good seconds to realize that you were wailing in front of him.

“Hey?”

He crouched on the desk to be able to see your face from underneath your arms. You hid it even more.

“Y/N,” he lowered his voice. It was as soft and delicate as when he whispered your name under the sky.

You suddenly took your stuff and ran away from the study room.

_____

Doyoung was slowly but surely losing his mind.

One day, two days, three days and you were still nowhere to be seen.

His room has been different shades of grey, which was better than black but now the walls had water running on them and the floor was constantly wet.

Altogether, not a good time.

“Holy shit, are you that depressed?”

Doyoung raised his eyes from the book he was reading before rolling them so far up that Haechan thought they wouldn’t come back anymore.

“What do you want?”

The Gryffindor took a step inside the room with hands behind his back and took a lazy stroll to where Doyoung’s dresser was crying. “Your flowers are all dead. Throw them away.” “They keep appearing every time,” Doyoung started to read again, the little line between his eyebrows showing how hard he tried to understand whatever the pages were trying to say but failing.

“I’m here because it’s boring to not have you yell at Y/N in the study room as always,” Haechan spoke again nonchalantly, fingers rubbing against each other, as to get rid of the imaginary dust they collected from Doyoung’s furniture. Given the situation, the room probably made up piles of mud as well.

"Who's the guy?" Doyoung suddenly asked.

Haechan furrowed his eyebrows. "What guy?"

"The one she's fucking."

The other blinked at him surprised.

"You mean, Kim Doyoung?"

The Slytherin's eyes widened and Haechan saw how he looked with flushed cheeks for the first time in his life.

"Aw, come on. Of course, I know everything."

"If you know everything, then tell me who the fuck this guy she's been fucking beside me is!" Doyoung got up from the bed.

"There's no other guy. What are you talking about?"

"Fuck, I felt it how he touched her and it drives me crazy!" Haechan opened his mouth to talk but jolted, eyes staring at Doyoung’s arm extended to hit the wall behind his head expecting to see a dent in the hard brick from how much force he put into that.

"Is it you?" “Uhm? What the fuck?” "Answer me." "Okay, first of all, take a step back."

Doyoung leaned in even more and Haechan gulped.

"Okay! Okay, gosh. No. There's no guy fucking her as far as I know."

"Where is she?" "I don't know." "What kind of friend are you if you don't know it?"

Haechan crossed his arms on his chest. "Am I seriously getting scolded on friendship values by Kim Doyoung right now? You that made her cry in the common room? You that made her rest her weapons in front of you just to see you treat her like scum? After using her? We don’t have mood rooms but we have things like hearts and mouths which we use to, you know, ask other people how they feel-" "I don't have enough patience and you know that."

Haechan breathed in and out before finally opening his lips again. "She's in the dorms. Obviously. Where the fuck would she be-"

Doyoung turned around on his heels like a tornado and walked towards the towers.

"She doesn't want to talk to you!" Haechan told the other boy's back but he wasn't sure he heard him.

_____

She doesn't want to talk to you.

Fuck it.

Doyoung knew he was self-centred and he knew that your absence had something to with him but for once he really wanted to be wrong.

Used you? You really thought Doyoung used you? When you used him and then got somebody else to touch you like that?

Fuck, if Doyoung were in his room at that moment it would probably resemble a killing storm.

"Hey, you can't be here," some random guy stopped him as Doyoung stepped into the Gryffindor common room. "How did you even enter-"

"Shut the fuck up."

Doyoung looked around, eyeing all of the different doors and chose left, venturing down the corridor, for once - and cringingly so - listening to his heart.

Haechan was right. You didn’t have real mood rooms but he could physically feel the energy of each and one of them with his heart.

He knew it was your door before even getting close to it, the feeling coming from it making his blood boil in his veins just like he would feel when you were around.

With a twist of his wrist, he tried to open it but it didn't work.

"Are you seriously trying to barge into a girl's room like that, Kim?" a scandalous voice said behind the door.

"How did you know it was me?" Doyoung placed one palm on the wood.

"Only you could force open a door without even knocking," you replied. "And the spell is made for you specifically, so I know."

The boy rested his forehead on the door and closed his eyes. "You were waiting for me."

The silence on the other side made him sigh. "Open up. Let me talk to you."

It got even quieter than before. "I wasn't waiting for you. You had no reasons to come," you finally whispered.

Doyoung twisted his wrist and the door in front of himself vanished from his eyes. Apparently, you didn't anticipate he'd be able to use the transparency spell since you didn't even preoccupy yourself to block it and he could tell you didn't even sense it, so concentrated on your thoughts. From your perspective the door was still there and, previously leaning against it with your back, you rolled on it now and unknowingly imitated Doyoung's position, foreheads almost touching if not for the layer of old wood.

"What do I have to say?" he asked, looking at your face. He saw how you bit your lower lip at the sound of his voice and the genuine sadness in your face made him even angrier at the whole situation. "You don't have to say anything," you finally replied.

Doyoung's jaw muscles tensed.

"Please, please, open this goddamn door."

The intensity of his voice made you raise your head and your senses got sharp again, feeling the energy he put into using his spell.

With the twist of your wrist, the door flew open and you finally saw Doyoung's face.

"You used transparency," you suddenly looked furious. “You know you can’t do that inside the university.” "Fuck, I was," he stepped in. "What if I was naked?" "Nothing I haven't seen before."

You rolled your eyes. "You make me so frustrated."

"I am making you frustrated? Then what about me, huh?"

"What would you even be frustrated about if you don't even care about me? You tease me and you insult me and then you make love to me like a desperate man and then you go back to being your selfish, deprecable self. What is this? Why do you keep playing with me? Is it fun? You find it amusing to see me like this?"

Your words completely floored him.

"I can ask you the same thing. I can feel it inside my chest when someone else touches you and it drives me fucking insane. I made a mistake and I gave in thinking you had some feelings for me and that I wasn't just a fuck toy you could use one night and throw away."

Your mouth fell open.

He could feel it? He could feel you? So you did belong to him?

"This is crazy. You hid something like this from me! Now you have access to what's going on with my body without my consent!"

"I had no idea I was in love with you, okay? It has never happened to me before. I don't want to know either when someone else eats you out! I just- you’re here hiding in your room and crying as if you have feelings for me or something when you let someone else-" he stopped.

You looked at his reddening neck and closed eyes.

His breath was shaky and you realized how you've never actually seen him angry or upset before.

"No one has done anything to me, Doyoung. Unlike you, who fucked that Slytherin girl after showing me the fucking heaven. Did you do that to her as well? Sweet talk? For what? Is this your hobby? Making girls fall in love with you?"

The boy shook his head in confusion."What are you talking about? There's no Slytherin girl."

"The one that had the urgency to see your room?"

He pinched the base of his nose with a grunt of realization. "She helped me to figure out why my room was pitch-black and why it's currently grey with wet fucking walls."

"Oh yeah? Because to me, it looked very much red."

"You've been spying on me?"

You huffed and sat down on the bed like a child when they're found guilty but they're too proud to admit it. "You used transparency just 5 minutes ago too,” you justified yourself as if you were equal now.

"And did you see me fuck that girl?"

"I didn't want to actually look inside like a creep! But you were pretty much horny. The corridor got all red."

"I was thinking about you! And now I’m also thinking about you and I’ve been thinking about you all of these days and months and probably all of these fucking years since I first met you.”

Your brain felt like mush.

"Then you knew? You treated me like that because you liked me? Only children tease the person they like."

"I didn’t know. I had no fucking idea before. And apparently, I am a fool for not having realized before and fuck, perhaps I’m a child as well then. I’m insecure. Because I wanted you to think about me too. And perhaps you don’t even remember but I’ve tried to be nice to you before and it didn’t work. But you started to give me attention when I made you mad. It was easy and playful and I saw how you often smiled when I turned my back to you and- fuck, I got hopeful. That you’d start to feel the same.”

“I do feel the same, for fuck’s sake! I am in love with you.”

Doyoung swallowed dryly. “Then why-”

“It was me.”

The boy furrowed his eyebrows.

“That morning after I left your room I took a shower, and-,” you looked around as if trying to find the courage to say what you had to say, “- I was thinking about you, so-”

Doyoung understood before you could finish the phrase and you saw his face fall.

“Wait, is it possible? Even if you do it?”

You scoffed incredulously. “You’re the Slytherin here. Until a few days ago I didn’t even know you had magical spit making you feel whatever I did to my own pussy!”

Doyoung closed his eyes and took in a deep breath as if he needed a moment.

“But I researched it when you told me about the pencil. It has to do with some weird-ass Slytherin shit where couples own each other’s bodies. Most people find it hot to know when the partner is-” you cleared your voice as it got suddenly tiny from talking about that shameful topic.

“So no, I did not let anyone touch me. If you were smart enough you would have noticed that it didn’t happen anymore after you treated me like shit.”

The boy looked as if his soul left his body.

The silence engulfed the whole room and you avoided each other’s eyes.

But then it got disrupted by his movements. With slow steps, he walked the space from the middle of the room to the feet of the bed where you were sat down.

With weak limbs, he let himself down on his knees in front of you and slowly he let his face fall into your lap.

Your breath fell short. With trembling hands, you caressed his nape, lightly as if afraid to touch him, then his hair, patting it gently.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been a fool this whole time. Like, I am so stupid.” His voice was muffled by your clothes and his arms wrapped your waist even more while saying it.

“You’re the smartest person I know. But you could’ve just asked instead of assuming.”

He shook his head. “Yeah. Hey Y/N, so I can feel inside my gut that you orgasmed hard just now. Who did it? I thought you liked me.”

He raised his head again, his hair messy on the forehead, eyes lit up by the sun coming from your big windows and violent red cheeks. He looked young and vulnerable and suddenly the whole situation seemed so ridiculous that you laughed.

“I am sorry,” you chuckled and cupped his face. “You’re right. It was a weird situation. We should work on communication. And you should work on not being so insecure.” “You also assumed I fucked a girl just because I was talking to her.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay. We both have to work on that, alright?”

He sighed relieved seeing you smile.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you about that whole thing before. But I swear, I had no idea my feelings for you were that deep.” “Does it not work with mere crushes?” He shook his head.

"Well, do you know what I want now? For you to obtain my forgiveness?" you asked. "Me to kiss you." You flicked his head. "You will never drop that attitude of yours, will you?" He smiled even more. "I love to see you like this."

“I want something else,” you explained. Doyoung turned his head to the side. “Me eating you out?”

“Oh my God! No!” you tried to get away from his hold but he pushed you back on the bed and crawled beside you. “But that pussy is mine-” “Shut up!! Don’t say that ever again! You still need to apologize some more for that. Now I can’t even masturbate.” “You don’t need to masturbate if you have me.” “I fucking hate you so much.” “I love you too. So what was the thing that you wanted?”

“It’s just-- it’s unfair. So I-- also want to know.” “You want to own my cock?” he chuckled in the crook of your neck. “Why do you really have to use such words?!”

“You can do it. You just need to go down on me too.” “Even if I’m not a slytherin?” “If you’re in love with your slytherin partner, you don’t need to be one to be tied to them like that.” “Pants off then. Now.” _____

Haechan walked through Doyoung’s room with a chuckle, trying hard to avoid all the flowers that suddenly started to grow tall until reaching the ceiling.

With the corner of his eyes he also noticed the way all of them started to turn red and with a disgusted face, he moved faster, exiting it and closing the door behind him.

#doyoung #doyoung smut #doyoung fanfiction #doyoung scenarios #doyoung imagines #doyoung fluff #doyoung angs #doyoung au #nct #nct smut #nct fanfiction #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct angst #doyoung angst #nct fluff #nct fantasy au

2K notes · View notes

daydreaming-in-letters · 3 years

Text

Three Nights (Unconditional sequel)

Night Two

05/25/2021

Pairing: August Walker x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 1,807

Warnings: hormones, sex during pregnancy, fingering, vaginal sex, slight dom!August, dirty talk, language

Summary: In the middle of her second trimester, Mrs Walker is a hormonal mess. One night, she finds herself in dire need of release, but August just won't wake.

A/N: Next part of the sequel coming right up and things are getting a little steamy...

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

(I couldn't find the source of this picture, so if anyone happens to know, please tell me.)

“August?”

Expectantly she listened into the silence. Nothing. Well, at least if one didn’t count his steady breathing and the rolling of the waves in the distance.

“August,” she tried again, a little louder this time. But still he didn’t move. Measuring her options, she watched his face in the pale moonlight that fell through the open windows. He looked so peaceful, and she envied him his deep slumber. How was he not even sweating in this clammy heat?

Finally, the curtains swayed in a breeze of night air, making her hope for a little refreshment, but it only brought more of the sweltering humidity. With a thud, her head fell back into the pillows, underlined by a frustrated sigh. Slowly her hands drifted over the already rather prominent bump that had once been a delightfully squishy part of her body.

“You know this is really only your fault, right? As if the bloody nausea hadn’t been enough in the first place, now you decide to torture me with everlasting horniness instead. Is it too early to say that you’re taking after your father completely?”

But instead of an answer, another gush of wind rolled over her sensitive skin, the sensation alone enough to make her moan as it coaxed another wave of desire to roll through her. This was insufferable, she thought, as she propped herself up on one elbow again. Why wouldn’t he just wake up? At every other time, he picked up on her horny state with the precision of a bloodhound. Damned be his stupid sound sleep.

She bit her lip as a thought crossed her mind. She would most likely regret this and in the end it would probably hurt her more than him. But desperate times demanded desperate measures, and by now she was willing to do almost anything if he only tended to her need and got his dick inside of her promptly.

“August!” she almost yelled and with a swish, her hand cut through the thick air until it came down on his cheek with a harsh slap.

Roaring at the top of his lungs he was wide awake in an instant. And before she could fathom what was happening, she found herself on her back, wrists pressed into the pillow next to her head by his strong hands, furious eyes glaring down at her wildly.

“You’re lucky you’re carrying my child, woman, or you might have found yourself bend over my knees by now to receive your adequate punishment.”

She could feel her walls clench violently around nothing by the mere thought of him having his way with her like that. And before she even had the chance to hold it back, a needy whimper escaped her lips.

“Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, very much.” She bit her lip again and it didn’t escape her notice how his grip on her loosened a bit, his eyes softening equally upon her eagerness.

“Is this why you woke me up?”

She nodded, shooting him a perfect pair of doe eyes. “Bloody hormones won’t let me sleep, Augie.”

With a huff, more of the tension left his body. “At least that would explain why you thought it wise to slap me awake.”

“What else was I supposed to do? I did try the nice way, but you just wouldn’t wake up and my panties are literally soaked.”

He growled lowly in the back of his throat, making her clench even harder.

“Are they now?”

Careful not to put his weight onto her body, he clutched both of her wrists in just one hand. He grinned smugly and she knew immediately that she was in trouble. The best kind of trouble. And while she still couldn’t believe that her ludicrous plan had actually worked, his free hand dipped down between her legs without a warning, forcing them apart to grant him better access. Lazily, he dragged his fingers through her folds, stirring the fire inside of her with minimal effort.

“Now that’s disappointing.” What? Having expected his praise, those words of displeasure made her heart fall instantly. But he wasn’t done scolding her, yet. “First you hit me like a bloody lunatic and now you have the audacity to lie to my face so shamelessly, princess?”

“I’m not lying,” she croaked, feeling utterly sorry for herself as she saw her chances for satisfaction dwindle, “My juices are practically flowing over.”

But August’s face stayed unreadable, giving her no hint at all where this was going.

“Oh, no doubt about that,” he finally stated after a long minute of silence.

Wrinkling her forehead in confusion, she was forced to watch helplessly as his face came closer. She could already feel his searing breath on her lips, closing her eyes in anticipation of a redeeming kiss, when he turned his head only the fraction of an inch before contact and dove down into the crook of her neck.

“But your panties aren’t soaked at all, princess, because actually, you’re not wearing any.”

The hunger in his impossibly low voice would have been enough to make her dizzy, but when he bit down on her neck with purpose her body reacted of its own accord. Her back arched violently, pressing herself into him while a deep moan told of her want for more. And when she suddenly felt his fingertips press into her entrance, she knew that his whole act of disappointment had simply been for show. A distraction, so that he -

Oh God, his fingers were filling her so perfectly. Deeper and deeper he sank into her until he was buried three knuckles deep. With a gasp her eyes flew open again and she almost missed his next sentence above the white noise that rushed in her ears.

“You know, you’re really lucky, my painfully aroused angel. Because your sweet little pussy is far too wet to worry about such minor details now.”

His fingers had picked up a steady pace, sliding in and out of her sensitive womanhood pointedly. It was a good start, she thought, but by far not enough to sate her craving. As always, he enjoyed teasing her more than anything. But unlike every other time, tonight she wasn’t in the mood for his teasing, not in the agonising state she was in.

“August, please,” she whimpered. “You promised to make it better, not worse.”

Unimpressed by her words, he continued his slow ministrations, his mouth nipping and sucking its way from her shoulder to her ear.

“You must be mistaken,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the soft spot right underneath her ear that made her shiver. “I can’t remember making a promise like that at any point.”

Another wave of frustration took hold of her as her brain registered his repeated rejection. Straining against his tight grip, she was practically begging by now.

“Please, I…”

“Say it!” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Tell me what you need.”

No, she wouldn’t let him have this triumph, even if he chose to deny her the satisfaction she longed for because of her disobedience. In that case she would have to tend to herself, but under no circumstance would she let him tease her anymo - oh.

Holy shit. She didn’t know how this was possible, but it somehow had escaped her notice altogether that his head had abandoned its spot next to hers and had dipped down to pay his attention to one of her oversensitive breasts. And before she would lose her mind completely, she cried out in a state of utter desperation.

“I need you to fuck me, August. Please. Let me feel your hard cock deep inside of me or I’ll go insane.”

In the blink of an eye he stopped, his hands and mouth retreating as soon as she had finally said the words, giving her some time to calm down a little.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, princess, was it?” he whispered smugly. “Now let me deliver you from your agony.”

Her senses still in overdrive, she felt too weak to even move, but that didn’t matter anyway because, as always, August took care of her. Gently he moved her around until her body moulded into his perfectly. His warm chest lay against her back, his arm offering her a comfortable place to rest her head, and soon she could feel the claiming press of his promisingly hard length. With no effort at all, he sank into her, and finally, finally the excruciating unease inside of her ebbed away.

“Shit, I don’t think you’ve ever been this wet, darling.” His hot breath fanned across her neck, setting her on fire.

“I’ve also never been this pregnant and this horny before,” she moaned, her hand finding his on the cool sheets, entwining her fingers with his as he slowly started to move.

“Don’t worry. I promise we’re going to change one of these two in no time.”

And eager to keep his promise, his free hand dove down to the junction of her thighs, granting himself access to her bud. Carefully he pressed down, opting for drawing slow, deliberate circles. She was so hypersensitive as of lately and he was determined not to overdo it like last time. But judging from her elaborated breaths and the tell-tale sounds that fell from her sweet mouth, she was enjoying herself genuinely.

“August.” His name rolled over her lips with a shiver while his mouth tended to the sweet spot on her neck. Argus-eyed, he monitored every movement, every noise she made. Her relief was all that mattered to him now. But the first beads of sweat were already beginning to form on her forehead, triggering his worry in mere seconds.

“Should we stop?”

“No!” she almost cried out as if she was in pain. “Please don’t stop. I’m so close.”

And as soon as she had uttered the words, she could feel the eagerly-awaited tension inside of her build. Every thrust, every kiss he left on her overheated skin, every groan that rolled through his chest brought her closer, pushing her closer towards deliverance. And when she finally passed the point of no return, she turned her head to find his lips while the redeeming pleasure rolled over her enraptured body. And just when she thought she would pass out from all the bliss, she could feel his response.

He was sure that she had never climaxed this hard, her walls gripping him so tightly that the sensation caught him completely off guard. Speeding up his hips, he allowed himself to give in as well. And while his mind gradually clouded over, he grabbed her belly possessively in his last moment of clarity and for the first time, he could feel a sign of the life that was growing inside of her.

Part 3

***

Tag List: please let me know if you want to be removed or added by either ask or DM - thank you!

@summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @dorothea-hwldr @omgkatinka @ashesofblackroses @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @icarusblinders @zealoushound @asuni921 @endofalldays01 @agniavateira

#august walker x reader #august walker #august walker x you #august walker imagine #august walker fic #august walker fanfiction #august walker fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill imagine

175 notes · View notes

angelguk · 4 years

Text

→ pu$$y fairy — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jungkook

word count: 3.2k

genre: smut + college!au + jeongguk and oc are in a weird fwbs without the friendship part just the benefits except jaykay lowkey has feelings + virginity au

warnings: virgin!oc / blowjob / we talk about dicks for a bit / oc is strange / jaykay is confused / cum swallowing / first times / not really edited / mingyu the meddling best fwend

soundtrack: on the way, jhene aiko + hold on (slowed and reverb), the internet

Jeongguk doesn’t hate Mingyu. He truly doesn’t. He is one of his closest friends after all; he’d held him up after Jeongguk had dumped half a keg down his throat and his legs had promptly collapsed. He’d also been a successful wingman for when Jeongguk was aiming to add Seolhyun to the list of girls he’d bagged, sent pictures of his organic chemistry notes when Jeongguk had missed more than half of the classes in high school and didn’t laugh at him when he was heart-broken over Sua and borderline depressed. He was a true friend; someone Jeongguk could rely on. It was a simple brother-like relationship that Jeongguk deeply treasured. So no, he could never hate Mingyu – but he could absolutely long to punch that insufferable asshole in the face.

He should have known this was going to go downhill exceptionally fast the moment you stumbled into his room, wide-eyed and nervous in your unsure steps. When his pants had hit the ground, the shock in your eyes was a dead giveaway to how messy this whole arrangement was going to be. The second clear sign was when you jumped out his window because the sight of his bare dick terrified you.

And this was all the result of Mingyu being a meddling shit who didn’t know when to mind his business.

He remembers it with a clarity that makes his shoulders tense, how Mingyu had snuck you into the conversation while twisting a soju bottle in his hands.

“Yo… JK…. You mind if I ask you a question?” He’d said. Jeongguk shrugged, focused on flipping the meat on the grill because he was starving and the prospect of cooked meat was a lot more appealing than feigning interest in a conversation. “Alright…," Mingyu took his silence as a cue to speak. “Have you ever fucked a virgin?”

He should have known then. He really should have known.

“I don’t know. I don’t ask any questions when I’m hard,” Jeongguk had replied, unknowing of the dangerous path this conversation was guiding him down.

“Yeah and most of the time you don’t fuck on an actual bed. I’m not even surprised you don’t ask questions.”

“Hey!” Jeongguk had swung the tongs around. “I ask important ones, like consent and making sure we’ve got a condom around. But virginity? Not my concern.”

“Seems a bit…. Whorish to me.”

“Not whorish. I just have my priorities elsewhere… Like cumming for example.”

Mingyu had sighed as he poured him a shot, the air leaving his lips heavy. “I shouldn’t even be asking you to be honest. You’re a decent guy but your kind of a dickhead when it comes to sex.”

“How does not pondering on virginity make me dickhead? Again, as I said, priorities are elsewhere.”

“Dude you’ve never even tried to have meaningful sex at least once in your life. When was the last time you were actually emotionally invested in the person you were sleeping with? Hmm?”

The answer was Sua and he knew that but Mingyu was decent enough to keep her name out of his mouth, the judging look in his eyes saying enough.

“You know… I don’t do well with the whole emotional thing. I prefer it physical. It’s less messy. But what does this even have to do with virginity?” Jeongguk hated to admit it but he was somewhat interested in where this conversation was going. If only he knew it was leading to a massive train wreck of the one thing, he steered clear from – emotions.

Mingyu had just sighed again, tipping the soju bottle into his shot glass once more. “There’s a girl who I’d like you to meet.”

He’d scoffed, mouth stuffed with a perilla leaf wrap. “You know I don’t do blind dates.”

“It’s not a blind date,” Mingyu had retorted, the glance he threw at his friend’s direction precarious. “She wants you to take her virginity.”

Jeongguk had choked. Of course, he had. Even if sex didn’t mean much to him, taking someone’s first time like that felt very transactional. And Jeongguk wasn’t that big of a dickhead. But then Mingyu had opened his mouth, spewing various details about your life to him that he would rather have not heard over a KBBQ lunch. You were a friend from one of his business lectures, rather eccentric but sweet and funny. You were also a virgin and terrified of approaching men on your own, one of the reasons Mingyu had sprung up this arrangement. Jeongguk wasn’t one to fall into things like this but it was too late. Mingyu was a marketing major for a reason, he knew how to spin words in his favour, convince people into agreeing to things that they normally would not. And that’s how Jeongguk found himself staring at your retreating figure after you’d thrown your body right out his window, landing hard on the lawn of the house he rented with Namjoon and Seokjin. The crazy thing was that you’d gotten up immediately, not showing any sign of a broken bone or injuries, before promptly sprinting down the road to the bus stop. He should have known then. He really should have known. And yet, here he is, pants discarded on the floor of his room and his dick aching from being unrelieved for longer than it’s ever been, while you crouch over him, squinting at his penis like it’s a foreign object that could kill you.

“Could you please stop staring at my penis like that.” He says it out of frustration, but also the way you’re examining his length makes him feel self-conscious in a way he hasn’t felt like in a long time.

“Sorry,” you murmur, not breaking eye contact with his dick. “I’m just… fascinated. It’s rather….” The sentence tapers out and you swallow hard as if it pains you to admit it, “...Ugly.”

Jeongguk decides then and there he hates you.

“I mean... It’s not that it’s ugly!” you swiftly attempt to amend, catching the glare he directs at you. “It’s also big!”

“I know. And you just said it was ugly,” Jeongguk retorts, weighing the options in his head. Either get a poor blowjob from a girl he’s terrified of (but also bizarrely attracted too) or kick you out of his room and finish himself off. The situation sucks either way but it’s better than the last time when you’d leapt out of the window like a gazelle.

“I misspoke,” you say, gently falling onto your knees. You flash him a shy smile, a soft delicate little thing that makes your eyes glitter and Jeongguk instantly picks the first option. “It’s just different to what I expected it to look like.”

He scoffs, swallowing hard on the sudden lump in his throat. “There’s no way you haven’t seen a dick before. You don’t watch porn?”

The grimace you make is enough of an answer. “I have… Not all the time though, it’s too much for me sometimes. Also, it’s weird seeing it in real life and not, like, through a screen.”

“Noted. But still, it’s not that ugly,” Jeongguk murmurs, trying not to compare his penis to the visuals he has in his head. His pride is wounded from that comment he won’t deny it.

“It kinda is,” you reply. Jeongguk flicks your forehead in retaliation. “Ow! Why’d you do that.” There’s that stupid pout in your lips as you glower at him. He despises how his dick twitches at the sudden thought of your pretty mouth wrapped around his length. Despises it even more when you gasp at the slight motion trembling through him. “It moves?!”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk sighs, wondering how on Earth you’re over the age of twenty and still like this. “It does. Also, don’t insult my dick. It’s rude.”

“Sorry again,” you pause as if you’re considering whether what you might utter next is offensive. You open your mouth anyway, unable to comprehend the fact that your words are slowly chipping away at his ego. “It’s kinda scary that it moves.”

“Oh my god, you are the literal worst.” Jeongguk thinks his boner might evaporate. It’s a miracle it’s lasted this long. You’d sauntered into his room around half an hour again and he’d been hard from the get-go. Truly amazing his balls hadn’t shrivelled up yet. “You know you’re about to blow me off right?”

“I know… I’m stupid,” you counter, eyebrows furrowing together like you’re attempting to figure out exactly how Jeongguk’s dick works. It’d be very simple if you just asked him. It’s essentially an up and down motion, some swirls, a lot of wetness. Nothing too difficult. But when you glance up at him, the innocent glaze over your eyes almost hopeless, he can tell it feels the same as defusing a bomb. “I just… Don’t know what to do. Show me?”

And there it is - the foolish little thing that landed Jeongguk here half-naked on the edge of his bed in the first place. Even though you were mildly repulsed by the male autonomy you were still so eager to learn. Something Jeongguk didn’t know he would be into until you posed that question and his balls tightened in a way they have never done before.

“Okay,” he mumbles, hoping you don’t suspect the twitch that runs through his length when you say that. Not like you would, to be fair.

But then you sweep your hair back, lean in fast, no preparation or anything before your breath is brushing against his crotch and Jeongguk nearly screams.

“Woah, woah, woah! I thought you just asked me to show you? What are you doing?” Maybe he scuttles further down the bed, terrified of the rush of heat you send straight to his gut.

Your eyes flicker upward, bright and ingenuous. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“You’re not -,” Jeongguk sighs breath weighing through the air. “You’re not doing it wrong. I just think... We should go slow right? It’s your first time? Maybe don’t rush into it?”

“I watched a YouTube video and they said to do it like that,” you reply. Jeongguk can’t help but blink at you, brain reeling from attempting to understand your being.

“You watched a - never mind. You’re giving me a headache. And I thought you knew nothing. Porn would have been a better research alternative but to each their own.”

“I did it for preparation! I didn't know it’d be this nerve-wracking in real life. And, I told you, real dicks are gross. She used a dildo.”

“How is a dildo any different to a real dick?” Jeongguk fingers dig into the mattress a little harder when you lean it once more, gingerly resting your head against his knee.

“It’s just different. Less grotesque. And they come in various colours.”

He might just actually scream. “It’s literally made to replicate a penis.”

You sigh, your breath skipping against his skin. The room is suddenly tight, closing in on him and you’re not even really touching him. And then you catch your lip between your teeth, pressing down with a quick thoughtful bite. “I think you’re deflecting right now.”

“I’m not,” he splutters. “Why would I even be deflecting right now?”

“I mean, we’re having a conversation about dildos when your dick is hard and I’m meant to be blowing you. Sounds like deflection doesn’t it?” He hates the way your eyes glitter, bright and captivating as your gaze locks into his.

“Like I said,” Jeongguk retorts, “We should take it slow.”

“Okay then. I’m done talking about dildos unless you have anything else to add?”

“I don’t,” he murmurs, “Okay then, onto giving a blowjob.”

“Onto giving a blowjob,” you reiterate. And then, like a psychopath, you smile. “Where should I start?”

He hates that body is on edge right now, hands trembling even though he hides them by squeezing his bed-sheets tight. “Try giving it a lick first? You can put your hand around the base too - if you want to.”

“Here?” His knees nearly buckle when you wrap your warm palm around his length, grip firm around the base of his cock. But that’s nothing to the gentle lap of your tongue against the side of his cock, a quick little thing and nearly launches him off the bed.

“Oh - uh - yeah, there.” His voice sounds far off and without warning your mouth is against him once more, tongue a sinful little thing that slips along his length, wet and warm and so sneaky he’s unsure of what to respond with apart from an instinctual buck of his hips. It’s easy like this, your tongue pressed against his cock and your hands slowly dragging upwards, placing a perfect pressure along his length that leaves him sighing into the air of his bedroom. Your movements grow more direct, reading the increasing desperation in Jeongguk’s body as he moves closer and closer to you, waiting until you feel sure enough. And then, finally, your mouth sinks onto him.

He nearly whimpers. Nearly. There’s a heat pooling in his gut and ebbs through every muscle and nerve, the coil of his desire springing tighter with each inch that slips down your throat. You take him so well, Jeongguk can’t help but watch in awe, the wideness in your eyes making him harder than he’s ever been in his life. Even with your inexperience, the way you swallow his cock is obscene. It’s an imagery Jeongguk engraves in his memory, purposefully stored because he knows he’ll think about it whenever his desires override his logical thoughts again. You lap him up like you want this, a soft moan echoing from your throat and along his length as you move deeper, mouth plaint to his dick. He forces himself to sit still, give you the time to adjust, lick and taste to your leisure, forcing the impending wave of heat back down into his gut. He holds it there even when you move away, the sound of your wet mouth popping off his dick permeating the air.

And of course, you lick your lips afterwards, a swift swipe of your pink tongue against them, your eyes trained on his.

“Like that?” you ask.

Jeongguk’s going to die. He is. And you’ll be the reason why listed on his death certificate.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, chest tight with want. “Like that.”

You lean back in without question, mouth taking his length like you were made for it and your hand works against the parts of him you can’t reach just yet. His mind wanders as his eyes take in this sight of you, on your knees and mouth open wide just for him. Someday he’d like to see if you could truly take his length, all of it. Down your throat. Hard and fast like his hips wanted to go. But this is more than perfect. How you concentrate on blowing him like you want to see him spill himself down your throat. It’s almost adorable, the earnestness in your gaze every time your eyes flicker upwards as your mouth moves along his cock. He likes this more than he’s willing to admit, the slowness in your pace, how your tongue is shy sometimes when it laves against his tip. It’s a change from what he usually gets - and a welcome one too. A tiny part of him feels like it would be fitting to hold your hand. You’re so pretty too, especially when your lips are on him. He’d like to take care of you, see what your face looked like when his tongue was deep inside of you, know what your taste like as you moan out his name. He doesn’t even register the words as they leave his mouth, head lost in the images colouring his thoughts.

“Taking me so well, baby,” he can’t help the grunt, the pet name natural to him, “So pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

And you hum like you like it - like you like pleasing him, sinking further down until his tip bumps against the back of your throat. The zip down his spine nearly sends him spiralling.

“Baby,” he feels it then, when your eyes shift to meet his, the snap in his gut. “F-fuck, I’m gonna cum. You need to stop right now if you don’t want to down your throat.”

But you don’t, moving faster like the twitch of his dick in your mouth spurs him on, your lips firm as they wrap around him. He doesn’t hold in his moves this time, hips gently moving up to meet your mouth, the tremor running through his bulky thighs nothing but a warning before it hits him hard. A wave of heat, melting through his muscles as his eyes flutter shut, your tongue lapping him right up, no protest as he unravels down your throat. It’s over in an instant but Jeongguk feels like mush, head floating and his bones soft with how hard his back hits the mattress. You pull off his length a second later, letting him feel you swallow all of him first.

“Holy shit.” His mouth is still disconnected from his brain.

There’s a beat of silence, so awkward that Jeongguk shuffles himself back onto his elbows even though his bones feel like giving way. And then your laugh tinkles through the air, a soft gentle thing that makes his heart seize in his chest.

“That… wasn’t so bad,” you say, staring at him with an ease that spikes an urge to press his lips against yours in his heart.

“Oh,” he replies, like an idiot. “You liked it?”

“Well, it didn’t suck… pun intended. Your moans are really loud.”

Jeongguk blushes - he blushes - even after the stupid joke you made.

“Um, yeah. I do, I guess. Sorry, I kind of forgot to show you what to do. But you’re a bit of a natural, to be honest.” He abhors the diffidence in his voice.

“I guessed that,” you retort, the smile on your face hypnotic, “From your really loud moaning.”

“Can you - fuck how do you ruin any intimate moment when it happens?”

“Guess I’m a natural at that too,” you say it with a laugh, and Jeongguk can’t help the smile that tugs against his lips.

“Um,” he tries, fully aware of the front view seat you were getting of his soft dick. He sits up to try and shield it, feeling awfully exposed. “If you’d like… I could return the favour?”

“No, I’m good.” There’s zero hesitation in your voice and you’re up before Jeongguk can think of a decent excuse to keep you in his room. “Maybe another time? I’ll text you. Bye Jeongguk.”

It’s then he regrets not encouraging you to undress earlier, his assumption that this would be the worst blowjob of his life incredibly incorrect. Perhaps if your clothes were scattered around his bedroom he could have found a way to convince you into his sheets while you searched for them. But you’re fully dressed, already bounding out of his door like his dick wasn’t down your throat moments ago. He watches you go with forlornness, mouth dry with words he’s incapable of expressing at this very instance and his heart oddly warm at the sight of your skipping away with a carefreeness he admires. He still hates that you’re leaving, perhaps the only positive of this situation is that you’re using his bedroom door instead of his window.

“Bye,” Jeongguk mumbles into the vacant air. You don’t even catch it, shooting him a quick grin before you’re bounding down the stairs as if this doesn’t even matter to you. A stumble on a stepping stone to something greater. He plucks up his phone, pants still lost somewhere on the floor. Blocking Mingyu for twenty-four hours should be enough of a punishment, right?

mingyu the man [10:21pm]

bro..

you alive?

jaykay [10:26pm]

i focking hate u

u know that right?

mingyu the man [10:31pm]

you dont my g

how was it?

did she jump out the window this time?

jaykay [10:34pm]

worse

mingyu the man [10:37pm]

bro wtf wot she do??

jaykay [10:40pm]

she actually gave me head

mingyu the man [10:45pm]

????

how is that worse dude you’re just as weird as her

jaykay [10:46pm]

ITS WORSE CAUSE I LIKED IT

mingyu the man [10:51pm]

damn....

you like crazy coochie don’t you

jaykay [10:52pm]

WHAT R U EVEN

MAN FUCK

I HATE U

mingyu the man [10:53pm]

lmao u don’t i brought her into your life u lurve me

im best man for the wedding

not jaehyun

u got dat right

jaykay [10:56pm]

i hope you fall into a ditch and die

mingyu the man [10:58pm]

okay big man

you gon see her again tho?

jaykay [10:59pm]

....maybe

idk man im fucked up right now

like???

SHE JUMPED OUT THE WINDOW??

mingyu the man [11:01pm]

and u still invited her over to suck your dick again

crazy coochie got u bad bruh

jaykay [11:06pm]

FUCK U

mingyu the man [11:11pm]

mhmm if thats what u say

i have a class wid her to tomorrow

any messages u want to pass on?

hello?

[mingyu the man is blocked]

hello? jaykayyyyyy

JAYKAY

SEAGULL

damn he got it bad

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hey kristy #shoutout 2 ella kristy and luna 4 beta reading mwah

3K notes · View notes