#But it’s been the only thoughts playing on my mind for the past two hours
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Love in the Fast Lane
Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Summary: A road trip turns into a heartfelt journey of love.
The hum of the engine was a soothing backdrop as Lewis drove, his sunglasses reflecting the sunlit highway stretching out ahead.
You sat in the passenger seat, your hand resting lightly on the console between you, and you couldn’t help but notice the smile playing on his lips.
He had been unusually quiet about the details of this trip, only saying he wanted to take you somewhere special.
“Are you ever going to tell me where we’re going?” you asked, turning to look at him.
He glanced at you, his smile growing. “Where’s the fun in that? Just trust me.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Trusting you got me into a car at 6 AM with no coffee. I think I deserve a hint.”
“Alright, alright,” he said as he reached to squeeze your hand before putting his back on the wheel. “It’s somewhere I used to go before everything got... hectic. A place that helps me think, you know?”
“That sounds perfect. Thank you for bringing me along.”
“Where else would you be, Love?” he asked with a smile before you reached to change the music.
The rest of the drive was filled with easy conversation.
He pointed out random sights along the way.
A quirky roadside diner.
A vintage car that zipped past, and you teased him about how he couldn’t resist critiquing other drivers.
After a couple of hours, the car slowed as he turned onto a narrow, tree-lined road. The lush greenery enveloped the path, and you felt a thrill of anticipation.
“This is it?” you asked, peering out at the scenery.
“Not quite,” he said, his voice teasing. “We’ve got just a little more to go.”
The road opened to a breathtaking view of rolling hills, the sun painting the landscape in gold.
Lewis parked the car at a small overlook and got out, rounding the vehicle to open your door.
“Ever the gentleman,” you teased, taking his hand as you stepped out.
“Always.”
He led you to a spot where a blanket and a small picnic basket had been set up. You blinked in surprise, turning to him. “When did you do this?”
“Magic, and a little planning.”
You sat on the blanket, Lewis handed you your favourite soda.
Conversation between you two was always something extremely calming and natural.
As the sun began to set, casting everything in a beautiful, golden light, Lewis grew quieter.
You watched him, noticing the way he seemed to be gathering his thoughts.
“Hey,” you said softly, touching his arm. “What’s on your mind?”
He looked at you, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”
You tilted your head, smiling. “Is that so?”
He nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, velvet box.
Your breath caught as he opened it to reveal a stunning ring, the diamonds catching the sunlight even though there was not much sunlight left.
“Lucky that I get to spend my life with you,” he said, his voice steady but full of meaning and depth. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment to ask you this, and I realized there’s no such thing as the perfect time. Every moment with you feels right.” Your heart was pounding as he took your hand. “Will you marry me?”
For a moment, all you could do was nod. “Yes,” you managed to finally say, your voice breaking. “Yes, of course.”
He slipped the ring onto your finger, his hands steady even as yours trembled.
Then he pulled you into his arms, holding you close.
“Guess I’ll have to drive carefully on the way back,” he murmured into your hair.
You laughed through your tears of happiness, pulling back to look at him. “Why’s that?”
“Because now I’ve got my future wife in the car,” he said, his grin breaking through.
The rest of the evening was you going through Pinterest having to look at different wedding aesthetics, trying to find the most perfect one.
"Since you are a knight... can we hold the wedding in a castle?" you asked and Lewis laughed.
"So you can be the Princess and me the Knight in shining armour?"
"Or a nice Armani suit. I'm not forcing you into anything metal." Lewis nodded.
"We will do everything you want, Princess."
And as you drove back, you couldn't look away from your beautiful ring. A proud smile on his lips and a very happy one on yours.
#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#lewis hamilton imagines#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton fanfiction#lh44#lewis hamilton x fem you#lewis hamilton x fem reader#lewis hamilton x fem!reader#f1 fanfiction#f1 fic#f1 lewis hamilton#f1 lewis hamilton x reader#f1 lewis hamilton imagine#f1 lewis hamilton imagines#f1 lewis hamilton x you
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𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔…𝙱𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎 — 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘 18+ 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 (2/?)
𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: shy!, virgin! Matt x fem! reader
𝙿𝚕𝚘𝚝: you and the triplets are practically best friends, you met them in LA, where you live. You and Matt unknowingly have feelings for each other, so when they go back to Boston for a whole month, you both realize how strong your feelings really are…
𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: fluff, slight angst?, sounds of masturbation.
𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 1,379
𝚊/𝚗: This is the second part to this story! Part 1 can be found here! There should only be one more part to this depending on how I feel. I used the chapter as a bridge to work on my plot writing so bear with me! I’m sorry this took so long, these past few weeks have been crazy-half my house got redone, it was my birthday last week (saw ZAYN 😭), my semester started, and I have strep throat lmfao but part 3 should be out sooner! Thanks for the patience! xx
You’re still seated at the bar with your friend about 15 minutes later after your conversation with Matt as your phone vibrates once more in your purse. You pull it out, furrowing your eyebrows as you see that Matt sent you a voice message.
You excuse yourself and go into the bathroom where the music is less loud. You find an empty stall and sit on the toilet seat, placing an AirPod in your ear to listen to the message, assuming it’s gonna be him telling you about the Boston trip.
You were oh, so very wrong, almost dropping your phone into the toilet as Matt’s moans fill your ears. “What the fuck?!” You gasp out into the bathroom, utterly shocked and confused, but not making any moves to stop the audio from playing.
Your cheeks flush as you listen to his whines and groans and you feel like you might pass away as you hear him whimper your name. You gasp again, placing a hand over your mouth as you hear the obvious sound of him cumming, a string of curses following.
After you stare at the message for a few minutes, you start to think. Did he mean to send this?? Did he somehow figure out you liked him and sent it? Was it an accident? Your mind reels, sheer confusion and slight panic forming a pit in your stomach as he sends no message explaining his previous one.
Matt has been pacing his room for the past 30 minutes. He’s absolutely mortified and disgusted that he’d send you that video, but more so that you haven’t acknowledged that you heard what he’d sent, leaving him on read.
He’s way too humiliated to explain himself because it’s obvious, to him at least that he’d just admitted he has feelings for you. He feels like he may die from embarrassment at this point, practically on the verge of tears. After another hour passes and you haven’t replied to him, he decides to just go to bed.
A few days go by and neither of you have the courage to text the other. You still talk to Nick and Chris everyday but you don’t dare say a word about what had happened. Matt is getting antsy, wanting nothing more than to call you and explain himself, but the thought of you rejecting him, or worse, not wanting to be his friend anymore is too much for him. He decides to just wait out the last two weeks of their trip and talk to you when they get back.
As the fifth day of not speaking to each other rolls by, he can’t take it anymore. The longest you’ve gone without talking to each other since you’ve met has been like 12 hours and his overwhelming feelings for you are not helping.
In a dazed and desperate moment at 4 a.m., he buys a plane ticket back to LA for the next afternoon without telling you or his family why. When the time for his flight arrives, he packs his stuff back up and gives half-assed responses to his family’s questions and concerns. He tells them he’ll explain it to them soon and rushes out the door, practically diving into the Uber.
You’re sitting at home at around 10 p.m., reading a book in your bed. This is the first time you’re enjoying yourself since the debacle with Matt and it’s raining in LA, which is a rare and very welcome sight, to you at least. You’re humming softly as you read and listen to the downpour of the rain on your roof.
At one point, you hear a knock on your apartment door. You get confused as it’s too late for a package and it’s pouring rain. You hesitantly get out of bed, placing your book down on your nightstand and moving to the door.
You stand by it for a moment, waiting to see if there’s another knock as you’re slightly worried for your safety. After a few seconds, there’s a louder knock, making you jump slightly. You take a deep breath and slowly unlock the door and open it.
You yelp as you see a drenched Matt standing on your doorstep, looking at him in pure shock for a moment before tugging him inside the warmth of your house. “W- what the fuck are you doing here?! Don’t you have two more weeks in Boston??”
“I-I had to come back…needed to be here…” he pants out, his cheeks flushed red. You quickly grab him a towel, wrapping it around him. “What?? Why?” You ask, still shocked. He holds the towel around him gratefully, huffing softly. “The voice message I sent you…” he starts.
You blush softly as memories of his moans flood your mind, but you quickly shake them, mustering up a small, “oh…” He gulps, continuing his sentence, his cheeks getting darker and darker as he speaks, “I-I’m so fucking sorry…that was an accident and I didn’t mean to send it. I know it made you uncomfortable because you didn’t answer- obviously it made you uncomfortable I- I’m just so sorry I-“ He starts rambling.
You quickly stop him by placing a hand on top of his and leading him to sit down on your couch. “Hey, relax…” You think for a moment, finding the right words. “It didn’t make me uncomfortable, Matt…it just really confused me…”
He groans softly “I’m so sorry it was an accident…I dropped my phone on my chest and it- did that…” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Wait hold on…how did that even happen? How did it move from a different app to our messages on its own and start the voice message?”
He somehow blushes even deeper, looking away. “I-I was already in our messages when I-um started…” You get even more confused until you remember the picture you’d sent him, your cheeks tinting pink. “O-oh…you were- to the picture I sent?” You ask, just being sure you’re on the same page.
“Y-yes…” he practically whimpers out in mortification. “I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean to make things weird…we can just ignore this…pretend I don’t feel the way I do…” he begs, not wanting to lose what he has with you. You sigh softly, feeling guilty because the fact that you didn’t call him or say anything about the voice message was obviously making him feel crazy and ended up making him cut his family visit short.
“Shit…no we’re not gonna ignore this...” He’s somehow convinced himself you’re gonna tell him you never want to see him again. “W-what??” You decide to just blurt it out, not wanting to keep the secret any longer, especially since you’re sure he feels the same now, finishing your sentence. “…Because…I-i feel the same way…”
His eyes go wide and his mouth drops open in shock. For what feels like hours, but was only like a minute, you just look at each other, the only sound in the room being him dripping water onto your couch. You don’t say a word, desperate for him to just say something.
“A-are you serious…?” Is all he can get out in his state. You just nod softly, feeling like you’d rather go into a hole and never come out than speak right now. There’s another moment of silence before he speaks again. “How long?” Is all he says. Your cheeks turn red as you realize what he’s asking, speaking softly. “How long have I had feelings for you?” He nods.
You swallow, taking a deep breath for a moment before telling him. “Since the day we met I think…” He somehow gets even more shocked, unable to believe you’ve liked him just as long as he’d liked you. “Holy shit…me too…” It’s your turn to be shocked now, your eyes going wide. “W-what??” Is all you can muster. He decides to fuck it, spilling the secret he’s been holding for almost two years.
“Fuck, I’m in love with you…I have been for so long.” He practically whispers, his heart racing and his cheeks bright red. You do the only thing can think of in the moment, quickly moving closer on the couch, not caring how soaked he is, and pressing a kiss to his lips.
𝚊/𝚗: ugh I hate this I swear the next part will be better…I am SO sorry for the people that waited so long for this just for there to be nothing juicy, but I promise it’s coming! Thanks for the support and any feedback is appreciated or comments about anything at all are welcome! xx
𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @mattscumslutt @courta13
#Spotify#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#smut#chris sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo
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Vaz Prizrak: Chapter Fourteen
-gif not mine. credit to owner-
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.
Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.
Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.
Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.
Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife
Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist
“Will you stop it,” I smacked Tony's hand from my face.
“I don’t understand how you’re alive right now,” He pondered.
My eyebrows rose at him. “Super healing, remember?”
“Actually the bullet grazed her head, she’s very lucky to be alive,” Bruce said as he entered the room.
I still was located in the medical bay of the compound, only waking a few hours ago. Bruce had mentioned that he wanted to keep an eye on me before allowing me back on my feet; even if I healed fast or not.
From what Bruce had told me is that the bullet in fact only grazed the side of my head but if Steve hadn’t pulled me from the lake, I would have drowned.
“I still think it’s cool if we tell people that I healed over the bullet but whatever,” I joked with a shrug.
It was weird. After my almost death experience and that dream of Bucky before waking, I had become my old self again. Joking around with my friends and feeling a sense of happiness fill my veins.
Bruce and Tony shared a chuckle.
“Is she going to be ready? Just because you tried to end it doesn’t mean we're stopping our plan. We bring everyone back in-,” Tony looked at his watch briefly, “-T-minus two hours.”
“I’ll be ready,” I nodded afrimly.
“You need to rest.”
We all looked into the doorway of the room and Steve leaned against the wooden frame, arms crossed over his chest.
After I had awoken, Steve had told me that I had been asleep for almost twenty four hours. They all thought I wouldn’t wake up. Steve was more worried than anyone.
“Let’s give them a minute,” Bruce mentioned to Tony.
Once we were alone, I patted the empty spot at the end of the hospital bed.
“I think we need to talk,” I said.
He nodded. “Only if you’re up for it.”
I pulled my legs to my chest while sitting up. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through, Steve. It was wrong of me to do that in front of you. And it was so fucking wrong to use you like that.”
“You didn’t use me, Y/N,” Steve said while squeezing my thigh.
“Didn’t I? I used you for sex hoping to feel something. It’s disgusting,” I scolded myself.
Steve gave a slight shrug. “It wasn’t that bad.”
I couldn’t help the giggle that fell through my lips.
“No it wasn't,” I admitted, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks remembering us together, “But I shouldn’t have done that to you. I’m a terrible person.”
I tried to look away from him but he wouldn’t allow it, lifting my chin oh so gently to look into his eyes.
“You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, Y/N. I don’t think of you any less or love you any less for what happened,” Steve avowed.
A smile played at my lips.
“I love you too, Steve. Even though our night together was amazing, I can’t do that to Bucky; not again,” I admitted.
Steve nodded with a sad sigh. “I know. It’s always been hard to compete against him.”
“Hey,” I spoke while grabbing his hand. “You two are not competing against each other for me. I love you both but with Bucky, it’s more than what I feel with you. It’s because of our past together and what we’ve been through. We were both there for each other through one of the roughest parts of our lives.”
“Bucky always had been a great guy. He’s lucky to have you,” Steve stated.
“Promise me something?”
When he nodded, I continued. “Promise that you won’t let how you feel about me stop you from finding love? Don’t let what happened with you and Peggy happen with us.”
“Only if you promise me something?”
It was my turn to nod.
“Promise that you’ll have a room for me when you fix up your house?” Steve smiled with his demand.
“Deal.”
My lips reached my eyes with how big I was smiling. We chatted for a while, just the two of us like how it used to be; back in our Shield days together. There wasn’t any awkwardness or fear of hurting the others feelings for what we had decided.
Steve was the only closest person I had left in my life and I was incredibly grateful that he had chosen to stay alongside me even if I had decided Bucky will forever be the one for me.
“You know, when this is all done, we should give Natasha a funeral. Even if we don’t have her body, she still deserves it.” I voiced my thoughts to Steve.
With a quick kiss to the top of my head and a squeeze to my shoulder, he agreed.
“Hey guys.”
Both of our attention turned towards the doorway of the room and saw Tony peek his head in.
“It’s ready,” He announced.
Steve and I looked at one another before he nodded. “We’ll be there in a minute.”
“Do you need help walking to your room?” Steve asked once he saw me pulling out my I.V’s.
I wanted nothing more than to change out of this medical gown and into my tactical suit.
“Nope. Meet you down there?”
Steve agreed with a nod.
With my hands clenched tightly around the necklace Bucky gifted me for my birthday, I listened as the men of my team fought on who would wear the gauntlet.
“I’m the strongest avenger. I will be the one to do it,” Thor stated.
Tony quickly shook his head. “It’s not only that the glove is channeling enough energy to blow up an entire continent, you’re in no condition.”
“What do you think I have coursing through my veins right now?” Thor chuckled.
“Beer and cheese wiz?” Rhodey suggested.
My boot stomped loudly on the ground, letting the others know how annoyed I was with this petty argument of who’s metaphorical dick was bigger.
“Jesus, will someone just decide already?!” I snapped getting impatient.
The gauntlet with all of the infinity stones sat neatly on it’s pedestal in front of all of us, teasing us with the mere thought that we were seconds away from bringing everyone back. And these idiots couldn’t stop fighting on who was going to wear it.
Steve gave me a disapproving look and immediately I apologized with a shrug.
“We’re so close so sue me for getting impatient.”
“Someone wants to see her lover boy,” Tony wiggled his eyebrows at me.
“Damn right I do,” I couldn’t help the excitement I felt.
Before I saw the gauntlet, I had so many doubts that this would actually work; that we would actually be able to retrieve all of the stones and create our own gauntlet.
I was tired of dancing with Bucky’s ghost in my dreams. I needed to feel his warm embrace around me again.
There was a lingering thought in all of our minds, however, one that we were all very afraid to ask out loud.
“Will this bring her back?”
My attention turned towards Clint and even though he didn't utter her name, I knew he was wondering about Natasha.
Sadly, I shook my head. “No. What we went through on Vomir can’t be undone. I’m sorry, Clint. She’s not coming back.”
I swallowed the large lump in my throat to hold back the tears.
“So we need to do this right; for her,” Bruce suggested.
We all nodded in agreement.
“Which is why I need to be the one to wear it,” Bruce continued speaking. “We all saw what it did to Thanos, it almost killed him. None of you could survive.”
The decision was made and final; since Bruce was mostly made up of gamma, he would be the one to make the snap.
“Remember, bring back everyone who got dusted five years ago to now, today. Don’t change anything from the last five years,” I reminded him.
“Got it,” he nodded.
Steve pulled me close to him and slid his mask over his eyes which caused me to place Bucky’s old mask over my own face. Flames sparked to live, creating a shield to protect Steve and I from whatever aftermath would occur from Bruce’s snap. Everyone else protected themselves in their own way.
“He’s coming home,” Steve nodded towards me.
Bruce yelled out in pain as the gauntlet came to live, the sparks causing my eyes to sparkle in awe. In one fast snap, he fell to the ground in pain and we all saw his right arm burned and bloody; an aftermath caused by his snap.
Steve, Tony, and Thor all crowded around Bruce, wondering if he was alright. Scott and Clint had ventured off to the other end of the room, muttering something to themselves, something that we couldn’t hear.
“Did it work?” I asked everyone. “How do we know if it worked?”
They looked at me, smiles wide on Clint and Scott’s faces, but I couldn’t ask why they were so ecstatic. I then realized that we were missing someone who had been on this mission from the get go.
“Where’s the robot?” I asked.
A thunderous boom shook the building and our bodies to the core as fire rained down upon us, encasing us in debris and darkness.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#sebastian stan#bucky barnes and reader#the winter soldier#marvel#the winter soldier x reader#the winter soldier smut#bucky barnes x agent!reader#james barnes smut#james barnes imagine#james bucky barnes#james barnes#james buchanan barnes#soldat bucky barnes#vaz prizrak bucky barnes#dorogaya bucky barnes
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So so so.. I’ve been learning faroe’s song on piano and becoming absolutely insufferable because of it. And. So. There’s a cello part written into the score
and that got me thinking (at 1am when I couldn’t fall asleep ofc) why?? Obviously the actual score for faroe’s song was written by harlan but canonically it was written by Arthur. So why did Arthur choose to include a cello part?
we know that only arthur and faroe know about the song so I don’t think someone arthur knows plays cello. Maybe it was written in honor of someone who died?? Like maybe Bella or Arthur’s parents played cello and he wrote a cello part into the song in their memory. Or maybe he plays cello and intended to one day play the song as a duet with faroe??
#Idk why I’ve spent so much time thinking about this lately#But it’s been the only thoughts playing on my mind for the past two hours#Does it matter at all that Arthur wrote a cello part?? No. Do I still care immensely? Yes.#malevolent podcast#malevolent#faroe lester#faroe malevolent#arthur lester#arthur malevolent
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𐙚 i want it ⋆ h.js x fem! reader pt. 2
part one ⋆ part two
pairing: han jisung x inexperienced! reader genre: smut, smau warnings: swearing ⋆ spit kink⋆ virginity ⋆ needy han ⋆ slight perv!han ⋆ reader is called “baby” and “pretty girl” ⋆ no use of “y/n” ⋆ reader is referred to by she/her pronouns ⋆ piv ⋆ munch jisung ⋆ oral sex (fem recieving) ⋆ fingering ⋆ light cum play ⋆ lots of praise ⋆ dialogue heavy wc: 3.2k synopsis: a week after jisung eats you out, he takes your virginity at your eager request. author's note: i feel like this is a safe enough space to say that i kinda didn’t wanna write this pt 2. i struggled a lot, but it’s finally finished!! didn’t wanna leave you guys hanging so i pushed through and delivered! if you like it feel free to reblog or comment bc those make my day <3
© dollracha do not copy reupload or repost.
a pit of guilt grows in jisung’s gut. he promised you months ago that he’d take it slow. he broke that promise the moment it got too difficult to keep his dick in his pants. months ago, you would barely make out with him. you were so shy when it came to being intimate. but slowly, you got more used to it. slowly.
he promised you that your first time together would be at the right moment. and he begged to get your pussy in his mouth before you were ready. he was such an awful boyfriend.
at least, that’s what he thought.
jisung was oblivious to the lust that clouded your mind the following days. the way you’d wake up in the morning, only to feel slick between your thighs from the wet dreams the night before. the way you’d be going about your day, and suddenly the image of your boyfriend rubbing his dick on your pussy flashes in your mind. or the way you fantasize at night about how it’d feel to experience it all over again–his tongue, his fingers. how you'd fall asleep to the thought of his cock inside you.
he started a fire inside you without even knowing, and he needed to quell it before you lost your mind.
he’s barely even went further than kissing you since he ate you out. you know that jisung is scared to force you. but you also know that you’re ready.
instead of asking him to fuck you, like any rational person would do, you decide the best way to what you want is to seduce him into it. it isn’t hard. really, it’s stupid easy. even a virgin can do it.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
when jisung gets into your apartment, all he wants to do is cuddle you while you stroke his hair. it’s one of the tamer things he’s been dreaming of all day.
“baby?” he says, and shuts your apartment door. it’s silent. “baby?”
“bedroom.” is all you reply. when he opens the door, he pauses. he definitely had something to say with the way his mouth hangs open, but as soon as he sees you it’s thrown out the window. you see his adams apple bob as he swallows, and takes in the sight of you: naked except for a thin, cropped camisole and panties, your sweatshirt barely covering your arms before it falls to the floor.
“jisung.” you try your best to keep the amusement out of your voice.
“shit! sorry, baby.” he snaps out of it quickly, adverting his gaze to the wall behind you. half of his thoughts for the past week come back to him all at once. seeing you barely covered makes the blood rush to his face, and his dick. it’s an instant reminder of how he had you just a week ago. he doesn’t look back to you, he might be strong enough mentally, but his dick sure isn’t. traitor.
“how was your day?” you're so casual about it, sauntering up to him and hugging him like you're not practically naked in front of him. like your tits don't press up against his chest when you hug him tightly.
“good. it was good. i missed you.” he's trying to stay calm. keep his dick from flying out of his pants like some deranged, horny adolescent who just discovered porn.
“yeah? still wanna cuddle like you wanted to earlier?” you ask, referencing a text he sent you a few hours ago.
screw his dick, his heart needed you more.
jisung sits on your bed, his back resting against the headboard. he watches as you climb into his lap, bare thighs against his sweats. you're so warm, and you smell so good… you're gonna kill him one day.
the moment your hands are in his hair, he's taking a deep, grounding breath. he loves when you play with his hair, it's the perfect stress relief for him. his girl, all pretty in his lap, running her fingers through his hair. dream come fucking true.
jisung can't help the low groan that escapes his lips as he adjusts his position. his arms wrap around you, shifting you in his lap so you're not sitting on his dick.
“fuck, baby.” he mutters. his eyes are shut, teeth biting at his lip to keep himself quiet.
it's cute, really. how worked up your boyfriend gets over you. you can't help but kiss the corner of his mouth, your hands cupping his cheeks as you try to push things further.
“kiss me, jisung?” the way you ask him is so sweet, so innocent sounding. like you don’t have a plan (you do) and all the pieces aren’t falling into place (they are). he can't resist, leaning up to kiss you short, sweet, and chaste.
it's not enough. you take charge, kissing him and shifting in his lap to get a better angle. he gets the message, and lets you lead the kiss. in no time you're deepening it, your tongue in his mouth, and jisung's quick to pull back, your unusual boldness finally catching him off guard.
“you good, baby?”
“mhm.”
“really?”
“you haven't kissed me in forever.” you're quick to defend yourself with a pout. forever, a week… same thing.
“c'mon, baby. you know i don't wanna rush you… i wanna take it slow with you, you asked me that and i'm doing my best…” he's looking at you like you’re too good for him, or he’s too bad for you. “you really don't know how hard that is for me, sometimes.” he mutters, eyes averting away from you. his hands come to rest on your hips, and it illustrates his point: he can't keep his hands off you.
“you're so gorgeous… prettiest girl i’ve ever seen. and you've got no idea how badly i just wanna push you down on the bed and fuck you sometimes.” jisung takes his hands off you, like they'll betray him. his hands ball up into fists at his sides. “you deserve someone who's able to wait for you, patiently.”
you don't like the implication of jisung's words. that you might ‘deserve’ someone better than him. your hands reach for his wrists, and guide his hands back to your body where they currently belong.
“i don't want anyone else, jisung, only you. it felt good when you ate me out. i liked it. i want more.” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “fuck me. please?” you ask, thumbing over his cheeks. your eyes are so warm, so full of love for your just slightly perverted boyfriend.
“i don't wanna make you wait anymore. i'm ready now. please? i want it.”
jisung can't resist you: his dick is throbbing in his sweats, his mind clouded because you look so damn good on his lap. you're begging him to take your virginity. you’re clearing up the doubt and guilt in his mind. who is he to deny you any further?
“i love you.” he grins, shaking his head. his hands travel up from your hips to your waist, and he presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “lie down, baby. let me take care of you.”
you’re quick to push yourself off his lap, and lie down beside his sitting form. there’s an air of excitement bouncing between you two as he kneels between your legs. he sits back to admire you beneath him.
the way your hair lies behind you, the eager look in your eyes, the gloss of your lips from the messy kiss you shared. the way your top scrunches up beneath your tits, the strap barely falling off your shoulder. It’s the little nuances of your appearance that have him feeling like the wind’s been knocked from his lungs, and he wants to commit that beauty to memory, write about it like he’ll ever find the right words to describe you.
debauched. hot. perfect. ‘mine’.
he can’t control himself, hands wandering your body to brush up your thighs. they reach your ribs and begin pushing up your top, freeing your tits for him to grope and tease. he takes in the way your breath catches, notes the things he does what makes you react. you’re so reactive and all he’s done is feel you up.
“shh… baby, i know…” he whispers as he takes your nipple between his thumb and index finger to give it a rough pinch. “want it so bad, right? want me to just put it in?”
you nod. he’s worked you up quickly. “not yet. my girl deserves a special first time. i can’t just put it in. what kind of boyfriend would i be?”
“but, ji–” jisung’s hands trailing down your ribcage to your hips. his thumbs soothe over the skin, but his grip is firm, and keeps you in your place.
“don’t be a brat.” the sudden sternness in his voice has you shutting up immediately. you don’t think he’s ever spoken to you with such strictness… it turns you on. with that, he stands, and pulls you to the edge of the bed.
“let me take care of you.” his voice is softer as he speaks and drops to his knees on the floor. he ends all your thoughts of impatience the moment he begins kissing up your inner thighs. “gotta prep my girl first, okay?”
there’s a gentleness in his touch, as he spreads your thighs a little wider, taking in the sight of you. as if he didn’t make you cum on his tongue with no regards for your virgin status just a week ago. “relax f’me.”
he spreads your pussy open with two fingers, and in seconds there’s a slow, wet trail of his spit dripping down your clit. jisung starts with slow, gentle licks that have you melting into his touch. he works up a fire inside you that spreads with every deep shallow breath, every barely audible whine from your lips. when your wetness and his saliva are all glistening across his chin, he pulls away. “how’s it feel, pretty girl?”
“good.” you breathe out, and suck in a deep breath. “want more.” you roll your hips, desperate to get his mouth back on you.
"yeah? more what?” jisung rubs your thighs, giving you a break whether you like it or not. it’s a form of self control for himself as well, he can’t get lost in eating you out if he stops. “what do you want more of, baby? tell me.”
honestly, you don’t know. you just want more of the feeling he’s giving you, the fire that builds slowly and threatens to take your breath away. luckily, jisung is more than happy to give you options. “want more of my mouth? or do you want to try my fingers?”
“just wanna feel good.” you decide, and jisung smiles. you’re cute, and you trust him with to make you feel good, even if you don’t know what you want. he’s eager now, your plea spurring him on. jisung teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly inserts it as he begins to suck on your clit. it’s not enough, not for jisung. as soon as he feels you relaxing around one finger, he’s quick to insert anther. it’s not a hard stretch. not when your pussy’s being so greedy, sucking in his fingers as he sucks on your clit.
all the while you’re moaning his name so sweetly, rutting your hips up into his mouth like he’s just a pillow for you to hump. “fuck, baby…” he’s moaning into your pussy, reaching his arms beneath your thighs to pull you closer.
“ji…” the way you moan his name is obscene. he wants to hear it again.
“cum on my tongue.” it’s somewhere between a command and a plea. however he asks, he needs to see it again, feel it again–fuck, he needs to taste it again. “cum on my tongue and you can have my dick, baby. ‘s all yours.”
it’s not lost on him that you’re close when your hands reach for his hair, tugging in a way that makes his eyes roll to the back of his head. he knows before you do, and he’s doing all he can to make you tip over the edge.
“please–”
the fire he coaxes within you builds and builds. until you’re warm to the touch and can’t speak anything but his name in broken moans. he holds you down when you cum, your hips fighting against his strength as his fingers fuck you through it.
“good girl… that’s my good girl…” he praises. his eyes are glued to your face, taking in every frame of you as you come undone on his fingers. once your breathing calms, and you lie still on the bed, his eyes trail down to your pussy. his fingers gather the wetness of your cunt and pull out in tandem with your whine of “too much!”
“look at you, baby…” he coos as he stands. “that’s my good girl, cumming on my tongue so pretty for me.” his clean hand trails up your body, and rests against your throat. his hand is warm, almost weightless as it rests above your throat. it’s oddly grounding for you.
“made such a mess, though…” an idea pops into his head. “you ever taste yourself, baby?” you shake your head no. jisung brings two fingers up to your lips. “go ahead.” he brushes the slick pads of his fingers against your bottom lip.
“clean up the mess you made.”
jisung groans as you take his fingers into your mouth. He can’t recall seeing a sweeter sight in his life. the way you look up at him, eyes wide and glossy as his fingers hit the back of your throat. you don’t stop though. you keep sucking, even beginning to bob your head a little and it goes straight to his dick.
he’s enjoying this too much.
jisung slides his fingers out of your mouth, and runs the same hand through his hair. “feel good?” he takes note of the look on your face, so fucked out already. you nod. it’s not a good enough response for him. “talk to me.” he’s gentle as he speaks, and brushes your hair out of your face.
“feels good, ji.” you sigh, and shut your eyes.
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
“want more? or are you done for the night?” jisung’s thumb caresses your cheek, the other hand sits softly at your waist.
“more, please?”
“of course, baby. you did so good for me. i promised you i’d give you my cock, didn’t i? gotta give my pretty girl what she wants.” it makes him impatient, to know that he has you prepped and eager for him. but he has to start slowly.
he pushes his sweats down beneath his thighs, too impatient to fully take them off. he fists his heavy cock in his hands as the tip prods at your entrance.
“gonna put it in now, okay?” he doesn't give you much time to think about it and before you can reply, he's pushing in.
“jisung…” your eyes shut as you moan his name, and jisung watches the way your pussy welcomes him. you watch jisung: the hungry look in his eyes, the messiness of his hair, the way he breathes deep and slow as he takes you. half his cock is nestled inside you when he finally breaks the silence.
“you're doing so good, baby…” he mutters, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “taking me so well…”
it's then that he starts to thrust. calculated and slow strokes that have you gasping as clenching around him. jisung is captivated. his eyes are glued onto the way you suck him in. he's barely able to keep himself from fucking into you deeper.
your eyes wander down from taking in jisung's expressions, to the way his hips fuck into you with all the restraint he has. it makes you want more, want to feel him completely.
“more,” it's not an ask or a plea. it's a demand. you keen into his touch, and your eyes lock. “i want it all.”
jisung laughs. he can't help it, you're cute. “more, baby? you want all my cock?” he teases and slowly begins to pull out.
“yes!” you whine, “jisung, please?”
it's cute. you're so desperate for him. it's hypocritical almost. he's using all his self control trying not to fuck you like he's a fucking rabbit in heat.
without any warning, he's grabbing your hips and pulling you closer. he slides into you, slowly. he groans as he bottoms out. you reach out to grip the sheets, but he's quick to grasp your hand instead.
“good job, baby. fuck, pussy's made for me–hold my hand, pretty girl…”
jisung pulls back and he swears he sees stars. “fuck…” he doesn't know how much longer he can control himself. his thrusts are deep and slow, falling into the familiar routine he fucked you with earlier.
it's not enough for you. not enough pleasure to satiate the fire hes stoking inside of you. “more.” you demand. “more, ji.” something snaps in him. he’s quick to fulfill your request, fucking into you faster.
“so dirty, baby. never been fucked before and already can’t get enough.” you can’t deny his words, or respond. all you do is moan his name again and arch into his touch.
“close?” you mutter, almost unsure of when your own orgasm is coming. with that, jisung spreads your pussy open with his fingers, and spits right on your clit. the high pitched whine that leaves your lips makes him smirk.
“i know, baby.” his fingers work fast circles against your clit, and he feels the way you tense and squirm against his touch. “too much!” and it’s not. jisung knows it’s not. it’s just enough.
“cum for me, baby.” and you do: with little whines and moans of his name, with little rolls of your hips to chase the pleasure he’s giving you. you’re clenching around him like a vice, each flutter of your pussy brings him closer to cumming, and he’s already trying his best to hold off.
he can’t take it anymore. jisung pulls out quickly and fists himself as he cums on your tummy. “that’s my girl… did so well.” he praises, his free hand soothing over your hip.
jisung watches as you come down from your high. you're so pretty. his pretty girl. all ruined. your hair's a mess. the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead. his cum all over your tummy.
“how are you feeling, baby?” he asks with a soft smile on his face.
“good,” you nod, a barely there smile on your face as you reach for his hand. “more than good.”
you tug his hand, trying to pull him down to cuddle you. it's a signal that jisung responds to immediately. he's pulling you to the side to spoon you.
one hand rests against your tummy, and he rests your head against his other arm. he kisses your nape, then your shoulder, then rests his head against you. it’s peaceful.
“i love you, jisung.”
“i love you, baby.”
© dollracha do not copy reupload or repost.
#dollracha#han smut#jisung smut#han jisung smut#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids x reader smut#skz x reader smut#han x reader#han jisung x reader#han x reader smut#han jisung x reader smut
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✮ What happened to hello | Lando Norris ✮
Summary: Quick little drabbled based on all the speculation of Lando getting a bad haircut because he wore his hat so much at the Mexican GP
word count: 848
a/n: I haven't wrote in a long time so I'm pretty rusty, go easy on me! I also wasn't entirely sure how I wanted to wrap up the ending, so yeah, sorry for that!
✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮
“Take the hat off Lando” You playfully demand with a squint of your eyes as soon as Lando’s face appears on your laptop screen.
You’re currently on day 14 of being apart since Lando left for the triple-header and it’s eating you both alive. You haven’t been apart for longer than seven days at a time, in almost a year. Everyone around you, even the fans, call you two codependent, but really, you were just in love and wanted to spend as much time together as possible.
Between the time zone differences and you both working so much, you’ve found it difficult to spend much time together. You’ve found comfort in being able to keep up with Lando from all of the fan and official F1 content posted online.
You’ve gotten a giggle out of all the speculation surrounding Lando’s hair. It started on the first media day in Mexico, when it appeared Lando had gotten a haircut, but his hat stayed on the entire day.
The next day was when the rumors actually started, Lando hadn’t taken his hat off again and every fan you came across was freaking out and cracking jokes that Lando got a bad haircut and was embarrassed about it.
Initially, aside from enjoying all the posts, you hadn’t given it much thought, assuming Lando was mostly wearing the hat because of the heat; but then you realized Lando hadn’t sent you any photos without the hat on, and the handful of late night facetimes you had, he was already in bed with his hoodie up and it was mostly dark.
Whenever you and Lando are apart, you always made sure to keep each other still included in the day to day parts of your lives; you were always sending photos, videos and voice notes until you could facetime or be with each other again.
Lando hadn’t changed your familiar routine, he just never had hair showing, which was a little odd, but nothing concerning. You admittingly missed the post shower selfies or the sweaty, messy haired, tired post race selfies.
You’re instantly met with a giggle from Lando “What happened to hello baby.” Lando’s sat in his drivers room, he’d got a couple hours break between practice and qualifying and wanted to make the most of your shared free time to squeeze in a quick facetime with you.
“Hello baby” You grinned cheekily. “I’ve missed you so much, did you get a bad haircut?” You giggled
Lando raised an eyebrow as another giggle slipped past his lips. “Did I get a bad haircut?”
You nodded quickly “You haven’t taken your hat off the entire time you’ve been in Mexico, so show me”
“And how would you know that, hmm?” Lando asked with a smirk. Lando was initially confused, but now all he wanted was to play into the fun he was having.
A bright rosy blush crept up your cheeks as you briefly glanced away from Lando on the screen. Lando’s now grinning mischievously, enjoying getting to tease you. “Do I need to talk to Osc or have you been creeping on me?”
Before you even get a chance to answer, Lando starts giggling again and shaking his head. You pout and cross your arms. “A bad haircut is the only explanation for the hat and not getting my selfies”
“Your selfies?” Lando questions, once again raising an eyebrow. He knows exactly what selfies you’re talking about, but one thing about Lando Norris is that he loves to tease his girlfriend.
“I want my post race selfies back Lando”
Lando smiles widely, taking a moment to take in all of your soft sweet features. Lando hadn’t intentionally been keeping anything from you, the few days he had been in Mexico had been busier than usual and it slipped his mind. “I’m sorry my love, I promise you’ll get one after quali”
“I better” You murmur, arms still crossed against your chest. You did miss the selfies, but you weren’t actually annoyed with him, in fact any feelings that even remotely resembled annoyance or hurt from the past few days all stem from a place of missing Lando.
Lando knows you better than you know yourself, so he knows that if he doesn’t do something in the next few minutes, the call is going to take a sharp turn from playful and fun to somber and probably leave at least one of you in tears. Neither you or Lando were one to shy away from your emotions, but if Lando could hold off on it, until he could guarantee you his undivided love and attention, that's what he’s going to do.
Lando winks at you, before taking off his hat and running his hand through his hair. “Is that better my love?”
A small gasp passes your lips, before you break out into the widest smile that Lando had seen in weeks. “Lando!” You squeal happily. “You look so handsome, why have you been hiding your hair?”
“I haven’t been hiding my hair, you doughnut,” Lando laughed. “It’s hot and I like my hat”
#Lando Norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x you#formula one fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x you#ln4#Lando Norris fluff#lando norris
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Mo' Money Mo' Problems
See Me Through You Blurb
Synopsis: Asking for help has always been hard for you, but when you aren't left with another option, your recently drafted NFL boyfriend comes to your rescue
Pairing: Boyfriend!Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader
Requested: by a gorgeous anon 😍
Series Masterlist
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
Erin looked at you as you sat down across from her and sighed. This had been going on for the past week and you had now given yourself a headache trying to figure out what you were going to do.
“Call your boyfriend.” Erin told you as she threw your phone for you to catch it, but you quickly shook your head no as you caught it before it hit the floor.
“I am not calling him.”
“And why NOT?” She exclaimed and looked at you as if you were crazy.
“Because this is my problem and I'm going to deal with it. I don't have to run to him for every little thing.”
“YOUR BOYFRIEND PLAYS IN THE NFL! AS A QUARTERBACK! Or did you suddenly forget?”
“Just because he plays in the NFL doesn't mean I’m going to take advantage of that.” You said as you crossed your arms.
“Bestie, I love you but you fucking annoy me so much sometimes. So let me ask you this, Joe doesn't have a problem asking you for sex correct?”
“What in the world are you getting at?”
“Answer my question.”
“No, he doesn't.”
“And he fucks you raw simply because you had a fucking pregnancy scare two semesters ago when he won the Heisman.”
“Erin, get to the point already. I was scared out of my damn mind.” You replied as you rolled your eyes.
“My point is that you shouldn't have a problem asking your boyfriend who fucks you raw for money. At the very LEAST like bare minimum he can give you a little cash.”
“I get it but..”
“Uh no you obviously don't. And you know how he is. First thing out of his mouth is going to be why didn't you tell him. I'm convinced that man would drink your bath water if you let him.”
“I swear you get on my nerves.”
“Welp been doing that since we were three and that's not changing any time soon.”
“I don't know. I feel kind of weird asking people for anything. Like not just him and I’ve always been like that.” You said as you got up to go into your kitchen with Erin following close behind.
“It's not like he's going to want you to pay him back. I guarantee you that he'll give it to you without a second thought. You never know unless you try. Surprised he hasn't put your name on the bank account yet.”
“Something is wrong with you.”
“Bitch, don't act like he's not going to put a ring on your finger. Surprised he didn't do it our first semester.” Erin told you as you turned to look in the freezer for ground turkey to make homemade burgers for the two of you.
“Yes, obviously but not yet.”
“He is literally just waiting for you to graduate to do it.”
“And how do you know all this?” You asked as you began to cut up red onion along with some green bell peppers.
“I just do and like I said, he would drink your bath water.”
“Ew, Erin that's nasty.”
“Just calling it like I see it. But if you don't fix this in 48 hours when your rent is due, I'm calling Joe.”
Twenty four hours later you were finally lying down in your bed after a long and exhausting day, your phone rang indicating a facetime call coming through and you rolled over onto the other side to answer it. When your boyfriend's face came into view, you instantly smiled.
“Hi my love.” You quietly said and wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets that were covering you while propping up your phone.
“Hey baby doll. How was your day?” He asked while it looked like he was sitting up against the headboard.
“Hmm, long. I've been up since 4 in the morning. But you know I never pass up an opportunity to talk to you. I miss you.”
“I miss you too and Erin called me.”
“What? Why?”
She literally only gave you 24 hours and not 48 like she promised.
“You tell me. Something going on that I should know about?” Joe asked and you continued to look at him confused.
“Uh, not that I can think of.”
“Let me ask you this then. Have you paid your rent this month for your condo?”
“No and I have no idea why she called you. I told her I would take care of it.”
“Because you miscalculated your bills for this month and they added a whole bunch of fees and you decided to suffer instead of calling your boyfriend for help.”
“I…”
“Is that it?”
“I didn't want to bother you.” You quietly said and Joe just looked at you.
“Seriously? When are you ever bothering me? I have another question for you.”
“Yes?”
“You plan on being with me for a long time, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you know that I'm going to take care of you right? Especially when you graduate and move up here.”
“Yes.”
“So, why wouldn't I take care of you now?”
“I know you will, but if I can do it on my own, I'm going to try to.”
“But I'm here and you don't have to. Aren't you a WAG now?” Joe asked as he smiled at you.
“I want to be the W and not the G.” You replied without skipping a beat.
“Who’s to say that I don't already have your ring?”
“Well, my finger is still bare so? What does that do for me?” You told him as you held it up so he could see your hand.
“Touché, princess.” Joe told you as he smirked.
“Mm hmm, that's what I thought.”
“But next time you come up here we're picking out a house.”
“I…”
“Me and my future wife along with my future kids need a place to live so we can start looking. Or we can have it built, your choice."
“And a new car, mine is on its last leg.”
“Name it and it's yours. That goes for whatever else you want to.”
“NO! I'm going to get it! You are not going bankrupt buying someone who is not even your wife expensive things.”
“You ARE my wife; it's just not on paper yet.” He told you as he shrugged while your cheeks began to heat up.
“Babeeeee.”
“What? I'm not saying anything that isn't true. And besides, I'm not spending any money from my contract. Just my endorsement deals. But back to our original problem, you're good for the rest of the year.”
“I… JOEY! That was like 4,000 dollars!”
“Money is not a factor when it comes to you. If you need it, I'm getting it. So can we move on?”
"Fine, while I have you in a giving mood, I want an elephant." You replied and Joe simply gave you a blank stare.
"Best I can do is the Cincinatti Zoo, you gotta work with me here."
"Well, you said 'name it and it's yours'."
"Baby, I meant within reason and an elephant is not within reason."
#joe burrow#joe burrow fanfic#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow x black reader#joe burrow fluff#joe burrow fic#joe burrow fanfiction#joe shiesty#nfl imagine
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study break
fem!reader x han jisung
synopsis: you take a study break with your boyfriend
warnings: 🔞!! slightly innocent reader, some nipple play, fingering, oral (f!rec), prob forgot some sorry
wc: 2k
an: this was a request but my inbox ate it ;-; hope i got everything anon asked for :)) not proofread sorry :( feedback appreciated! [m.list]
You have been at your desk for over six hours studying for your next exam. Hand cramping from all the notes you were copying down from slides you missed a few weeks ago. Ones that you finally remembered you needed to go over. You had only stepped away for a shower a few minutes ago to try and calm your mind after nearly crying over a worksheet. Pacing back and forth before you caught sight of your shower caddy deciding that if the shower didn’t work as a refresher then you would just take whatever grade you got and would have to live with it.
It wasn’t until the knocking at your door that you realized how stressed you had been. The evening you had planned with your boyfriend was forgotten until you pulled open the door to see him standing in the hallway of your dorm.
“So you are alive,” Han smiles as soon as you open the door. His hair curled around his ears, dotted with droplets of rain.
“nooo I missed our date,” you softly whine leaning your head on the door. The past couple of times you've studied you turned on an app that locked your phone to help with distractions. Only now it was backfiring because Han had been trying to reach you to remind you of your night out. “I'm so sorry Han I swear I didn't do it on purpose I haven't even thought about anything else besides this exam,”
“it's okay i kinda figured so I picked up dinner,” he holds up the paper bag in his hand.
“I'm the worst,” and he only smiles shaking his head, “You perfect, I should have known that scheduling a date the night before an exam was not the best idea,”
you wave him into the small space, your books a mess on your desk, the bed rumpled and unmade. Your roommate's side is just as lived in even for her off staying at her boyfriends most of the time. You're sure this is the first time hans been in here besides you picking up something but he never made it past the doorway.
The two of you have only been seeing each other for little dates for a few weeks now. You shared a class together, working next to each other in silence for most of the semester before he asked for help on an assignment he didn't need help with at all. Confessing later that he only just got up the courage to speak and used the work as an excuse. You're closer to friends than you are really dating with how slow the two of you are moving. Neither of you moved past holding hands and one interrupted make out session. But you were new to everything and Jisung was patient.
Han kicked off his shoes, setting the food down at the edge of your desk. “Have you taken a break at all?”
“I mean I showered,” you shrug, your hair is still wet, droplets of water soaking your tank top. You didn't even notice how the fabric was wet enough to leave nothing to the imagination. The outline of your nipples draws hans eyes right to your chest.
“You are all wet,” he smiles, biting the tip of his tongue. You can feel your skin getting hot, trying to play off his stare by rolling your eyes.
“Usually what happens after a shower,” you collect a few of your books, closing and stacking them up to make room. Shuffling papers around and making sure to check you have everything turned in before the exam. You're leaning over your chair looking at the assignments calendar online when you see you forgot to submit last week's discussion post. Your light sigh is enough for Jisung to place his hand on your back leaning next to you to see what you are now focused on.
“It's already late, maybe you should save it for the morning,” he suggests, warming up your lower back as he rubs soft circles against your skin.
“it's only one question, it better to just get it over with so I'm not stressing more than I already am,” although it's the last thing you want to do, already you have given up after your long day. But you rolled your chair out sitting down to work out one more question. “you should just start eating so your food doesn't get cold,”
“no no I picked up sandwiches from the cafe by the library I can wait,” he stands behind you, hands on your shoulders, fingers flicking over the thin straps of your tank top.
You pull up the post not realizing the link attached was for a document you had to read consisting of six long sheets of tiny text. Your sigh is more of a groan this time, hans chuckle right at your ear as he looks over your shoulder. “I think that's the kind you need the magnifier tool for,”
“why the hell would anyone use text that small,” you can feel the weight of the day landing heavy right at your feet. Just when you hoped to be done, to only have to overview notes you hated this. Your teeth sink into your cheek trying to will yourself not to cry over something so stupid. You were so close to finishing not only the day but your class, one assignment wouldn't kill your grade but just knowing it was going undone would kill your pride. You let your head fall to your hands, the heels of your palms pressed to the sockets of your eyes like that would will your tears away.
“Hey,” Han whispers, pushing a few strands of hair behind your ear, “come on let's take a longer break than just a shower, we can worry about that later,” his hands slip over your arms, sliding up and down, chin on your shoulder, nose bumping your ear.
“Sorry, I've just been so overwhelmed with everything,” you say, rubbing at your eyes, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“That's okay, you just need to relax, lay back, and forget school for a second,” his breath is ghosting over your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands go to your stomach, finger tracing the seam of your top. “you know I could help you with that,” his nose brushes down behind your ear and down your neck, lips leaving slight pecks on your skin.
“t-the assignment?” It's a stupid question but you're not past the brain fog, now worsened by Han giving you the softest kisses on your neck. Your head falling back, eyes closed as he fell into the feel of you.
“no,” he kisses at your jaw, “not the assignment,” one hand slipping up your stomach, knuckles brushing your nipple. “is this okay?”
“yes,” you nod, reaching up behind you to twist your fingers into his hair. Your back bowed as he cupped you over the thin material of your shirt, fingers rolling over your pebbled nipples, his lips sucking marks onto your skin.
His free hand starts to slip past the waistband of your shorts, your breath catching in your throat, “you don't have to do that,” he pulls his hand back to your stomach.
“Do you not want me to? We can slow down or stop, whatever you want,” now you're more than a little bit embarrassed.
“No it's not that I want you to stop, I just- I've never really had anyone do that before,” you confess, face hot enough to thank the fact your back is to han. It wasn't that you were against it, only that you spent most time inside studying instead of going out and meeting guys to hook up with. And from what friends have said some guys don't like going down on girls with their mouths or hands. “and I know some guys don't like it,”
“yeah the wrong guys,” he chuckles the rumble of his laugh right in your ear before he kisses over the mark he made on your neck, “I on the other hand have been thinking of devouring you the second you sat down next to me that first day in class wearing that little skirt,”
“Really?” his fingers tugging the waistband of your shorts before letting it snap back in place.
“uh huh, thinking about how good you would taste, how pretty you would look cumming on my tongue, how perfect you would sound,” your hips instinctively roll at the idea, Han's hand slipping back under your waistband. “Would you like that?”
“Yes,” the whisper is enough for Han to pull your chair out from under the desk, kneeling before you looking up like you set the best platter before him.
He kisses your knee hands sliding up the side of your thighs to tug down your shorts and panties. You should feel exposed or even a little bit shy but Han is licking his lips, eyes flickering between your glistening cunt and your face. “Even prettier than I imagined,” hooking his hands at the back of your knees he pulls you to the edge of the chair, slotting your legs over his shoulders as you lean back gripping the seat watching what he’ll do next.
“Are you just going to like...kiss it?”
“I plan on suffocating between your thighs so maybe a lot more than kissing,” he peppers kisses all along your thigh, your legs already trying to close at how each kiss sends a tingle straight to your clit.
When he finally leans down and his lips brush over your swollen nub you know you're done for. His light kiss was enough to send all thoughts and stress right out the window. And when he licks up your wetness from your entrance and swipes up to your clit latching on and sucking your head falls back and you let out a moan that doesn't sound like you. Jisungs hands move to hold your hips in place.
You swear you see stars as he sucks before he pulls away your whine making him chuckle, “Do you like it?”
Your hand moves to his hair wanting to tug him back down, “please don't stop now,”
“Look at you trying new things,” he gives light kisses to your folds, loving to watch your hips try to work on their own to get his mouth back on your clit. “already doing so good at being responsive to my touch,”
“Hannie please,” you beg and he doesn't hold back. He sucks your clit into his mouth, letting one hand free from holding you down to raise in front of you.
“suck my fingers and get them all wet and ready for me to get you to cum on them,” slipping them into your mouth you follow his orders letting them roll on your tongue before he pulls them back to rub on your pussy.
Your orgasm was building in the pit of your stomach, every flick of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge. Your legs jolt at the feel of his finger prodding your entrance, knees pulling in before he shakes his head, “Relax baby,” letting your other hip go he presses the pad of his thumb to your clit rubbing at a soft rhythm until your legs rest back on his shoulders. He's slow to slip his first finger in, dragging it out before adding the second. His smile is starstruck, feeling along your gummy walls like he found heaven, “look at that, you're doing so good for me,” the slow pumps of his fingers take up more of your mind until he leans back down to suck on your clit.
Thighs trembling your head rolls back, eyes shut trying to catch your breath before you're cumming, Han pressing his fingers into your g-spot like he's always known your body. Han is swallowing all your cum down like he can't get enough of it, burying his face in your pussy as you pulse around his fingers. Your hand on his hair starts to tug harder, your hips thrusting into his face, knees closing in around his ears. He is slow to pull away from you but knows he shouldn't overstimulate you the first time. “now if you ever need me to take your mind off of anything, you don't even have to ask I'll be right here on my knees ready for you,”
#kpop smut#han jisung#han jisung x reader#han jisung stray kids#han jisung smut#han jisung skz#han x reader#han stray kids#han skz#bang chan#lee know#changbin#lee felix#hyunjin#seungmin#i.n skz#stray kids smut#stray kids#skz smut#skz#cam!answersasks
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My Girl
S7!Negan x Reader
Requested from anon: hey! loving the blog and every story you post! i was wondering if you’d do a story of a reader’s first time being with S7 Negan who is an asshole at first but then goes soft because he accidentally made her cry??
OOOH I'm gonna have some FUN with this one. And thank you so much <3.
Summary: Rick's oldest daughter, y/n, loses her virginity to Negan.
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, virgin first time, vaginal sex, daddy-kink, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 40), Rick walks in on Negan eating you out.. (twice), degrading language, mushy romantic Negan, Negan fucks you in nothing but his leather jacket
A/N: This is my favorite fic I have written by far and I hope you love it as much as I do cuz I am obsessed.
"Carl, take your sisters upstairs and don't come down until I say it's safe." I lift Judith out of her high chair and follow Carl up the stairs.
Our dad has always treated us like Carl's the older one, even though he's two years younger than me, but I don't mind. If anything, it takes some of the pressure off of being big sis all the time.
I hear Negan's voice booming in the distance as my dad opens the door to head back outside. This has become part of our weekly routine at this point. Negan and his men went from monthly visits to weekly visits over the past couple months, but I don't mind that either.
The more I get to see him, the merrier.
I move the bedroom curtains slightly, peeking through my window until my eyes find Negan standing in the street in front of our house. I'm able to make out what they're saying if I listen closely enough.
"Rickyyy, I missed ya. Where's that sweet daughter of yours hiding? .....The older one of course." I can't stop the grin that appears on my face when he asks about me.
"This isn't about her. Get what you need, and leave." My dad stands firmly planted with his hands on his hips and my eyes roll at his attitude. Maybe if my dad would just be civil with Negan all of this could stop. I revert my gaze back to Negan.
"Now, Prick, you know I can't leave without seeing my girl."
His girl... The butterflies in my stomach flutter at the sound of that.
"Why are you so obsessed with him?" Carl asks rudely from across the room while holding Judith and bouncing her so she doesn't cry.
I quickly glare at Carl before turning my gaze back towards the window. When I look back down, Negan is looking up at me, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. I can't look away, and he lets his gaze linger a little too long as well, prompting my dad to look at my window. I quickly drop the curtain and back away.
"Take Judith to her room and put her down for her nap." I instruct Carl. He stares at me suspiciously. "Go! What did I just say?" I snap impatiently. He shakes his head but ultimately leaves.
"You're always so weird when he comes around." He says under his breath. I close my door behind them and go back to the window, peeking again, but this time everyone's gone. I rush to go see what's going on, but as soon as I swing my door open and run out, I crash into a tall, solid figure. My eyes widen as I look up at the man in the leather jacket.
"Hey, doll. Miss me?"
"Uh - I - where's my dad?" I stutter nervously, peaking around him.
"Busy getting supplies for me. He'll be busy for the next hour, so I thought I'd come keep you company."
Negan's been visiting Alexandria for months now, and each time he comes, our talks get longer and flirtier. Well, he flirts with me and I pretend to be annoyed, mostly so others don't think I like him. If they only knew how much I think about his beard between my legs.
There's something about him that intrigues me.. fascinates me even. I'm ashamed to admit I've even touched myself a couple times - okay, a lot of times - to the thought of him.
When I don't respond, he backs us into my bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
He slides his shoes and jacket off, sitting on my bed and leaning back with his feet propped up. I blush at the sight of him in my bed and restrain myself from ripping my clothes off here and now. A chill runs through my body, making me noticeably shake but I try to play it off. He probably things I'm scared, when in reality I just want him.
"Relax, I'd never hurt you darlin'. Unless you want me to." He winks as he leans back against the headboard getting more comfortable.
"I know." And I do... for some reason, I know he wouldn't hurt me.
He bites his bottom lip playfully and raises his eyebrows while patting the bed next to him.
I nervously walk over and sit down before leaning back, mimicking his position. My bed is a twin, so it doesn't allow much room to ourselves. My shoulder is pressed against his and the simple act has my body on fire already. I glance over and let my eyes roam up his white t-shirt to his handsome face. He watches me with amusement while his leg presses against mine teasingly.
"Sweetheart, I've been around the block long enough to know when a girl wants my dick. And I can practically hear that pussy fucking purring every time I come near you." He grins at me like he knows all my secrets.
My face burns with embarrassment at his words.
"I bet I could make you blush even harder than that, doll." His grin stretches wider but I stay silent, letting him do the talking.
"Of course.. I wouldn't do anything you're not comfortable wi-"
Before he can finish, I press my lips to his hard and climb on top of him. His mouth parts, letting my tongue in and his subtle moan makes my pussy flutter. He tastes like whiskey and smells like leather and I feel high off the taste of him as we kiss passionately. I grind my hips desperately into him and feel his bulge grow underneath me.
"Negan... I need you."
"I know baby." He breathes out.
My hands fumble with his belt and pants until I get them undone. He watches me as I pull out his cock and my pussy is already sore from just looking at it. No way it's gonna fit.
"How do you want it, baby? You gonna be a big girl and ride daddy?" His hands squeeze my ass underneath my dress and he practically growls when he realizes I'm not wearing panties.
"It's like you knew I was coming. Such a bad little girl." His fingers tease my opening and I'm embarrassed that I'm already pathetically soaked for him.
"All for me?" He slides a finger through my slit and brings it up to his mouth for a taste. "So fucking sweet."
I slide myself against his cock that's now slippery with my wetness and wonder how I'm gonna fit that thing inside me.
The big dick energy definitely checks out.
I hover above him naively, thinking I can actually take him. The tip just barely pushes through my opening and I moan at the sudden pressure. His hands grip my ass, guiding me down over him.
"Come on baby, that's it." He praises me as I keep sliding down. I stop when I can't take anymore, realizing I have at least four more inches to go.
"Oh, I know my little slut can take more than that."
I shake my head. "Negan, I don't think I -"
"You can, and you will, doll. I didn't come all the way here for you to only take half of my dick."
Tears fill my eyes as I try to sit all the way on him, wanting to make him proud. I make it another inch before the pain is too much. Not only with how deep he is, but he's so wide I think he may actually be ripping me apart.
"Deeper, y/n." He demands.
When I try again and fail, I quickly climb off of him frustrated. "I can't Negan, I'm trying!" He sits up in the bed, his feet on the floor now.
"Bend over."
"W-what?"
"Do not make me ask again." His jaw clenches as he stares at me seriously.
I lay myself over him, my ass facing upwards on his lap.
"You're going to take all of me, baby. If my wives at home can take me, I expect nothing less from you."
He doesn't even give me a warning before bringing his hand down painfully on my ass making me yelp. He chuckles darkly before smacking me again. He rubs the sensitive spot before teasing both of my holes.. One with his thumb and the other with his middle finger.
"What would daddy say if he could see you right now? Bent over my fucking lap and dripping for me like a little whore..." He pushes his thumb and finger deep inside each of my openings and I bite my lip hard at the pain.
I know he's trying to be all dominant right now.. I'm not oblivious to how rough sex works, but my eyes still sting with tears at his crude words. I shouldn't have built my hopes up that Negan could actually care and be gentle with me.
I sniffle as the tears fall, trying to wipe the snot dripping from my nose.
He quickly pulls me up and his eyes are filled with concern.
"Baby? Hey, look at me." He cups my face gently as I sit on the bed next to him.
"I - I liked you." I choke out. "I was the only one here who actually cared about you and saw you as a person.. and you.. you just see me as a stupid object you can shove your dick in.... You just ruined my first experience with a man. I hope you're happy." I sob while looks like someone just punched him in the gut.
"Fuck, sweetheart." He presses his forehead to mine, looking down with regret. "I didn't know you were all mushy about me and shit.. Truth is?" He tilts my chin to look at him. "I was being so harsh with you cause I didn't want to admit my own feelings. I didn't think you'd ever want an asshole like me, so I didn't want to go catching feelings for someone who didn't want me back. But baby? I can't get you outta my fucking head... Why do you think I started visiting every week?"
My teary eyes look up at him and he looks genuine. I want to trust him so badly, but my heart and head are saying two different things.
"Fuck, y/n. I know you don't believe me. Let me prove it to you. What can I do? Just say the fucking word."
"Stop taking our stuff... Leave our people alone..."
He chuckles lightly, shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to agree to. "Does that include you?"
I try to hide my grin as I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. "....No."
"Then it's a deal, baby."
"That's it? Just like that?" I look at him confused.
He shrugs. "Guess you've got me wrapped around your finger already, darlin...And now that I know you've never been with a man, I'm taking my fucking time with you." He lays me down on the bed while kissing and climbing over me.
"What about my dad? He'll be back soon."
"Simon's keeping watch, doll."
His lips travel to my neck. "....What about your other wives? You're just gonna fuck me and go back to them?"
He laughs against my neck. "Sweetheart.. I kicked every one of them to the curb the day I layed eyes on you."
My mouth drops open but he cuts me off by pulling my dress down over my chest and taking a nipple into his mouth. I moan and arch myself into him. After a few moments of sucking each one, he slides down further, lifting my dress to my waist and settling his head between my legs. I watch him in awe as he takes his time, kissing my inner thighs.
"Has anyone ever eaten you, baby?"
I shake my head no as I lean up on my elbows to watch him.
"Good." He spreads my pussy lips apart with his fingers and I blush at him staring at it. "Such a pretty pussy. Fuck." He says before locking eyes with me and pressing a kiss to my clit gently. I moan from the contact and arch myself into him, silently begging for more.
He dips his tongue in me and curls it up, gathering my juices. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he groans and licks all the way up to my clit before sucking on it softly. My mouth drops open and my hips try to jerk away, being overwhelmed by sensitivity.
He smiles against me. "Not going anywhere until you cum all over my face, doll." He wraps his arms up around my thighs, pressing my stomach down with his hands.
My breathing matches the speed of his licking and sucking and I feel the pressure building up inside me.
"Fuck, Negan!" My eyes are clenched shut but snap open when my door suddenly flies open.
"Shit! Dad!" I reach to throw my blanket over me, but defeatedly realize it's on the floor. My eyes widen in horror at my father standing in the doorway, looking like he just saw a ghost. A ghost that's eating his daughter's pussy. I'm unable to close my legs because Negan is still holding me down with his hands.
"God fucking dammit, Rick. We were just ge-"
"Negan!" I cut him off, my cheeks turning bright red with embarrassment.
He kisses my pussy one more time and my eyes widen, not believing he just did that in front of my father. He finally leans up, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and smirking at my dad like he's proud of himself.
I quickly get up and fix my dress.
"Dad, look, I -" I look up, stopping at the sight of Carl pointing a gun directly at Negan's head.
Negan tucks himself back into his jeans, buckling his belt and ignoring Carl.
"Carl.." I slowly step in front of Negan. "Put the gun down."
"You - you wanted this? Him?" My dad asks horrified. "He's done horrible things, y/n."
"And you haven't?!" I yell at my dad. "I watched you rip a man's neck open with your goddamn teeth. If he's a monster.. then so are you."
Negan steps beside me and laces his fingers through mine before kissing the side of my head.
"I love him, dad." I look up at Negan and elbow him roughly when I see a teasing smirk on his face.
"And you think he loves you? You can't be that stupid." My dad says, putting emphasis on the last word.
Negan chuckles and finally cuts in. "First of all, Dick, do not call my woman stupid. Secondly.." His faces grows serious. "We won't be taking anymore of your things. No more visits. Other than me paying this one a visit of course." Negan winks and puts his his arm around me protectively. "That is.. until she moves in with me." Our eyes all widen at the same time.
"You want me to live with you?" I turn to Negan.
"I mean, you did just confess your love for me, doll. Soo, yeah, that's the plan." He kisses my forehead.
"Y/n, we'll talk about this later. Negan, you need to leave. Now." My dad demands, his jaw ticking with anger.
Negan glares at my dad for a moment before turning to me, lifting my chin to kiss him slowly and passionately. Before he lets go, he whispers in my ear. "Meet me right outside the walls when it gets dark. I am nowhere near done with you, baby."
My heart flutters at the thought of us sneaking out together.
Negan walks towards the door before leaning close to my dad's ear. "I get to be her first, Rick. How fucking sweet is that." I struggle to make out his words but don't miss the chuckle at the end. He pats Carl's shoulder on his way out. "See ya 'round, bro."
"Love you, sweetheart!" He calls out to me as my dad and brother follow behind him, making sure he leaves.
I shut my door and smile giddily, running to the window and peeking out. Negan is already looking up at the window when I look at him. He smirks and winks at me before heading off to the gates.
A few hours later:
The sun just went down and my palms are starting to sweat as I pace back and forth on the outskirts of the gates. A million thoughts race through my head.
What if he doesn't come..
What if it's a trap..
What if he lied about everything he said..
Oh my god.. He's gonna kidnap and torture me..
Shut up. He wouldn't do that.
This is a bad idea. What am I doing.
Just as I turn to run back inside the walls, I see him appear from the shadows, wearing his signature leather jacket with a black t-shirt underneath.
"Were you about to ditch me, y/n?" He asks playfully as he pulls my wrist towards him and crashes his lips into mine. When the kiss deepens, he bends a little, pulling me up by the back of my thighs and wrapping my legs around his waist. We make out like horny teenagers while my fingers run through his slick black hair.
"You ready to officially be mine, doll?"
I nod without hesitation. "Yes. I'm already yours, Negan. I don't care what anyone thinks about us."
He kisses me again, setting me back down on the ground. "Lead the way, baby." He nods towards the side gates.
"You want to go back to my house? What if someone sees you?!"
"Kinda hope they do.. I like the thought of everyone knowing who you belong to." He smirks and it makes me knees weak.
"Okay.. come on." I pull his hand as I guide him back to my house. We sneak through the back sliding doors as carefully as possible before tiptoeing up the stairs.
He lightly smacks my ass as we're going up and I turn to shush him, tripping over my own feet in the process. He catches me before I make a loud thud on the stairs and his body is leaned over mine as we try not to laugh.
My body shakes as I laugh silently and bring my hand over my mouth quickly to stop any sound that comes out. His eyebrows raise at me with warning as if I better not make a noise.
"Okay, okay. Shushhh." I whisper before beginning our climb up the stairs again. My dad's room is at the end of the hall and mine is adjacent next to his. We try not to let the floors creak as we get closer to my room. We slip inside and I ease the door shut gently. When it finally clicks shut. I let go of a deep breath and look up at Negan. As soon as our eyes lock, we laugh like idiots, but quiet idiots.
He walks towards me. "Goddamn it, I fucking love you." He says as he lifts me back into his arms kissing me.
"You know.. earlier outside.." I breathe out between our kisses. "I thought.. that maybe you were gonna kidnap and torture me."
He smiles against my mouth as our lips lazily fight each other. "...What if I am?"
I stop kissing him to look at him. When I do, his look turns serious and it scares me for a moment. "I fully plan on making you mine and torturing you with this dick forever, doll."
I grin and roll my eyes as he continues holding me in his arms. "I guess there are worse ways to get tortured."
"Wait until I'm all the way inside you." His eyebrows raise teasingly.
I press my forehead to his and bring my hands to cup his face, kissing him again. I can't take my lips off of him. "Well what are you waiting for?"
That's all he needs to hear before he's walking me towards the bed and laying me down gently. He stands back up, removing his jacket and shirt.
I watch him closely, admiring the flex of his biceps when he moves. "Put the jacket back on. No shirt."
He laughs until he sees that I'm serious.
"Yes ma'am." He says with his little country accent. It's not always noticeable, but when it is.. it's so fucking adorable.
Once he's back in the jacket and bare chested, he stops for a moment before removing his pants. "Can I take these off, at least?"
"No, I want to."
He grin stretches as he walks towards the bed, keeping his hands by his sides. "All yours, baby."
I sit up in the bed in front of him and undo his button and zipper. I shuffle his pants down just a little before pulling his hardening cock out of his boxers. It turns to a steel rod in my hand and I don't care that I'm full on staring at it, assessing each vein and how it turns an ombre shade of pink towards the tip.
"I hope you like what you see, baby. Cause it's the only dick you're gonna be seeing for the rest of your life."
"I'm perfectly happy with that." I look up at him before kissing the tip of him, just like he did to my clit earlier. He watches me proudly, letting his fingers run through my hair lovingly.
I lick my lips before struggling to fit my mouth around him. He chuckles down at me.
“If you can’t fit me in that cunt, what makes you think you can take it down your throat, baby?”
I grin around him and I slide my mouth deeper and deeper. Surprisingly I don’t gag and I think it surprises him too.
Guess I don’t have a gag reflex. That’s good to know.
“Holyyy shit, doll. Look. At. You.” His voice is so deep it vibrates to my pussy. The tip hits the very back on my throat and even further until my eyes water.
I try to jerk my head back, but Negan pushes my head down on him again, my nose pressed into his pubic hair. He waits a few seconds until I feel like I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen before pulling my head back. I gasp for air and he pulls me all the way off of him while kicking his pants and boxers off.
"Trying to make me blow my load before we even get to the good part, darlin'? He climbs over me in the bed, kissing me softly.
My hands slip underneath his jacket and rub his back, scratching at it gently.
"I am gonna make you feel So fucking good." He says before kissing my neck. "You want me to be gentle with you baby?" His voice right in my ear makes me shiver.
I nod and he hovers his face above mine so we’re staring into each other eyes.
“You ready, baby?” He whispers and I nod again.
He leans up on his knees between me and lines himself up with my entrance before pushing the tip through. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”
He slowly slides in me further and further as he holds my legs open.
“Goddamn this pussy is so fucking Tight.” He pulls back a little before pushing in deeper and my mouth gapes open slightly.
He chuckles and stares down at me through heavy eyelids. "I'm not even halfway yet, sweetheart. You want more?"
I nod desperately as my eyes fill with tears at the overwhelming sensation of him so deep inside me.
"Take it then, doll. Grind on me and make yourself feel good." He stops moving completely while still on his knees between my legs.
My cheeks blush at his request and he smirks down at me, sliding his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, refusing to move or touch me.
I lean up on my elbows while he's still inside me and push my body further into him, taking every inch I possibly can. I grind myself against him until I find just the right spot for the tip of his cock to press into and drop my head back at how good it feels, not caring about the desperate sounds I let out.
"Oh my god, Negan.. fuck." My face reddens at the intense pleasure as I continue using his cock to pleasure myself.
"Fuck, baby. Now THIS? Is a Fucking sight.. Watching you get off on my cock like a desperate little whore."
"Touch me, Negan. Please."
"Please what?"
"Please Negan."
He removes his hands from his jacket to lean over me, holding himself above me with one hand on the bed while bringing the other to lightly grip my throat.
His dark hazel eyes dart back and forth between mine as he squeezes his fingers gently around my neck. My face reddens even more at the sudden loss of air.
"Try again, doll."
"Please... daddy." I choke out and he quickly releases my throat.
"Good girl." He kisses my lips softly before thrusting his hips hard, completely filling me until his balls are flush against me.
I scream out and his hand immediately covers my mouth while his head dips to the side of mine and his deep voice fills my ear once again.
"Sshhh, baby. I know. I know." He pulls out almost completely before sliding in again, this time softer but just as deep.
My eyes fill with tears at the pain but I don't want him to stop. My fingers grip the bottom of his jacket as he continues fucking me hard and at a steady pace. The headboard begins to lightly bump the wall above me and my eyes widen with panic.
"Negan, the bed. My dad's room is right on the other side."
He chuckles lightly in my ear but doesn't speak. Instead, he pounds into me even harder and faster with his head is buried into my neck.
"Negan!" I whisper yell at him but it feels too good to make him stop. The closer my orgasm gets, the less I care about my dad hearing us.
After a few more thrusts, he slows down and suddenly flips us over with his dick still inside me until I'm laying over him.
"Negan, my dad's gonna come in here! We have to be quie-"
Before I finish, he lifts his knees up and rams his cock into me hard. It feels even deeper from this angle and hits a spot that makes me see stars.
"Come here, baby." He maneuvers me until my arms are wrapped around him and my head is nestled into his neck. He smells like musky cologne and sweat and I can't help but lick him. Our mouths are next to each others ears, breathing and moaning heavily as he begins to thrust up into me faster than ever. The headboard slams into the wall with force but I don't even care.
This feeling is unlike anything I've ever felt or knew was possible, so the last thing I'm gonna do is tell him to stop.
"Negan.." I cry out. "Faster."
He obeys and wraps his arms around me tighter, fucking me at an animalistic pace. I cum so hard and fast I don't even have time to announce it. My pussy clenches and I feel myself suddenly leak around him, soaking his dick and probably even the bed below us.
"Goddamn. That's my good fucking girl... You gonna let daddy cum in this pussy, baby?"
"Yes! Please." I whine.
He growls in my ear and holds himself deep and still inside me as his dick pulses over and over.
I try to slide off of him when he's finished, but he holds me tight, not letting me leave.
"Negan, you need to leave before my dad-"
"He's not here, sweetheart."
"What?!" I snap my eyes to his.
"Relax, baby. He's fine. But I did warn him that if he didn't want to hear his baby girl screaming "daddy" all night.. then he should take your siblings and go stay the night with Daryl." He grins up at me and my brows come together with confusion.
"Wait you.. you told him about our plan?"
"Of course baby. Had to be respectful and ask for your old man's blessing."
"And.. and he gave it to you?!"
Negan laughs and reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear. "Absolutely not. But respectfully, I told him he didn't have a choice."
The next morning:
My vagina is screaming at me for allowing it to be destroyed last night. I can't count on one hand how many times Negan made me cum. I open my eyes to the sun shining through my window and immediately notice Negan is gone. I shoot up and look around, seeing that his clothes are also gone.
What if he just.. got what he wanted and left..
I throw the covers off of me and get up, grabbing my sundress of the floor and throwing it on before making my way through the house.
"Carl?!.... Dad?!" I yell as I descend quickly down the stairs. I stop at the bottom to find Negan stirring a pot of something on the stove.
"There she is! Mornin' sunshine." I walk over to Negan to see what he's cooking and he holds a spoon up to my mouth, letting me taste the deliciousness. This man can fuck and cook... what a god.
"Was wonderin when you were gonna wake the hell up. It's already lunch time, baby." He presses his lips to mine and I notice his freshly shaven face. I've never seen him like his and he looks so incredibly handsome.
He lifts me up and sets me on the kitchen counter while standing between my legs.
"Mmm, promise me you'll wear little sundresses with no panties underneath for the rest of our lives, doll." He says as he kisses me sweetly. I giggle and wrap my arms around him, kissing his neck.
"You hungry baby?" He asks and I nod sleepily.
"Me too." He slowly gets down on his knees in front of me, draping my legs over his shoulders.
He softly licks me with his tongue, moaning from the taste before burying his face further into me until I feel his tongue push past my hole. His shaven face feels soft and much more gentle than his beard.
My fingers run through his black hair, tugging on it gently as my head falls back.
"Mmm, daddy." I moan and my eyes snap open, hearing movement at the front door. I quickly jerk Negan up while pulling my dress down and sliding off the counter, seeing my dad, Carl, and Daryl standing in the doorway. Carl quickly covers Judith's eyes while he holds her and Negan sighs annoyedly at the sight of them.
"God..DAMN it, Rick. Again? You gotta learn to fucking knock."
"It's my house." My dad's expression is unreadable as he stands there, eyeing Negan. "You said one night. You can be on your way now."
"Well now don't be fucking rude, Prick. Have a seat." He grins widely at my dad before gesturing to the table. "I made spaghetti."
The End.
#crying but not from my eyes#jeffrey dean morgan#negan#jdmorgan#jdm x reader#negan fanfiction#twd negan#jdmfanfiction#jdm fanfiction#jeffrey dean morgan x reader#jeffrey dean morgan smut#negan smut#negan fanfic#the walking dead#dead city#negan smith#twd dead city#negan x you#negan x reader#negan oneshot#negan imagine#jeffrey dean morgan fanfic
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backwash II | daisuke
author's note: totally awesome people should check out part one as well ⍢ also, if you want to be part of a taglist for future updates feel free to reply or dm me! (cover image credit)
summary: (daisuke x f!reader) It's been a little over a month since the Tulpar departed on its 382-day long haul. Anya takes the reader aside to perform her monthly psych eval, where she discusses her experiences with her peers and life on the ship so far. After she's clear to go, she runs into Daisuke who's drawing in the lounge.
word count: 2,291
warnings: mild language? all characters are 18+
now playing: Radiohead - "Motion Picture Soundtrack"
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
EMPLOYEE STATEMENT 028—
I’m starting to feel more and more homesick. I miss my mom’s roast chicken. I miss swimming pools and the feeling of the breeze. I miss burning incense. I miss my friends. It hasn’t been that long since we left Earth, but I guess I just never considered how still outer space would be. How lonely I’d feel. The others have been nice, yeah. Especially Anya. And Daisuke. I get the feeling that Captain Curly is still warming up to me. I wonder if he’s ever taken on another apprentice before. I don’t know about Swansea, or Jimmy. They seem to tolerate me at best. But then again, those two kind of just tolerate everyone, except for maybe Captain Curly. It’s only been almost a month. I just have to keep my head.
If mom were here she’d say: “Everything gets easier with time. Time and patience.”
DAY TWENTY-SEVEN—
“Everything okay, [Name]?” Anya asked in a gentle tone, gingerly placing a hand on the table in front of you.
Your shoulders tensed at the sound of her voice as it filled the otherwise silent lounge. You looked up at her, feeling the tension seemingly wash away by the sight of her face. She offered you an understanding smile, her tired features softened as she looked down at you.
“Yeah. I’m sorry. Just lost in thought, I guess,” you responded.
You raised a hand to rub your eyes. It had been difficult to find sleep lately. The groaning of the ship was almost haunting at night. Laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling, you spent the few hours allotted for sleep thinking about Earth, about what laid just beyond the door to your room, about the ceaseless whining of steel and steam. About the next three hundred and fifty four days.
Anya nodded sympathetically, moving her hand from the table top to your shoulder blade. “It gets easier. I promise,” she paused as Jimmy and Curly entered the room, their voices loud and booming. “Are you ready for your psych eval?”
You nearly didn’t hear her over the sound of the other two. They were reminiscing, shouting stories back and forth of college parties, bar fights, and past lovers.
“As I’ll ever be,” you said with a timid grin.
Anya nodded once more, motioning toward the door just past the kitchen space. You came to your feet and followed her until the two of you made it to her domain. The medical bay had become a safe haven for you. Over the past month, you gravitated toward Anya the most. She had been kind to you from the very beginning, almost sisterly. When there was no more work to be done, you often found yourself walking straight through the lounge and into her office. Anya didn’t mind. In fact, she had grown to rather enjoy the company.
She walked around the desk before taking a seat in her chair. Behind her was a wall of white shelves and cabinets with glass doors. Inside they held assorted medical supplies and books on psychology and basic clinical practice. To the right of her was a bulletin board, cluttered with posters, a calendar, pictures of her hometown, and notes and reminders. A number of Daisuke’s doodles had made it up as well, namely ‘Yimpy’, a rather horrible caricature of Jimmy. It was pretty realistic.
You sat across from her with your hands interlocked in a tight ball. “Same as last time, right?”
Anya grinned as she organized your file. “Yep, same as last time. Since it’s only your second evaluation, I’m going to go over it one more time. Is that okay with you?”
You nodded.
“Lovely,” she said with a soft hum. Tapping the papers into a neat pile against the desk, Anya glanced at you once more. Her eyes flickered from the page to you, you to the page as she read aloud. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions about your experience, relationships, and general well being during your time under contract with Pony Express. It is your responsibility to answer as truthfully as you feel comfortable and/or deem necessary. Your answers remain confidential unless you give reason to believe you are at risk of harming yourself or others. Do you have any questions?”
“No questions here,” you replied with a shake of your head.
“Perfect. Let’s get started. On a scale of one to ten, how confident do you feel in your capability to complete your work and responsibilities on a day to day basis?” Anya read.
“Maybe eight? I’m still getting a hold of some of the more technical aspects. The Tulpar is an older ship… I wasn’t exactly trained on her special quirks in school,” you said with a nervous laugh.
“You’ll catch on fast. You already have,” she reassured, jotting down your response with that sweet smile still on her face. “Okay, next question. You mentioned last time that you’ve been having difficulty sleeping, is that still a relevant cause for concern?”
“I don’t know if it’s that concerning. I think I’m just having a hard time getting used to the new environment. It’s been getting easier to fall asleep though,” you responded. A little, white lie.
“I’m happy to hear that, [Name]. Your rest is important. I remember not being able to sleep at all during my first haul. I spent all night just tossing and turning, reading my books if I could focus on them long enough. It’s normal, but from the sound of it, you’re doing a great job adjusting.” Her gaze softened as she spoke. It was clear that she had grown to care for you quite quickly, and you did the same for her. “Only a couple more left to go…”
Anya listened intently while you answered each of her questions, taking the time to write down key details of your responses. Between questions, the sound of her pen etching against the paper filled the room. As Anya wrapped up the second to last question, your eyes wandered to the evening window screen. The warm orange and reds of the artificial sunset made the room look like it was on fire. You looked back to your hands, reaching up to take a piece of your hair and twist it between two fingers.
“All right,” Anya spoke up. “Last but not least, how do you feel about your relationships with the rest of the crew? Is there anything I should know about in particular?”
“No, I don’t think so. Everyone has treated me fine enough. Other than you, I’m still trying to get to know everyone better,” you said, still focused on your hair.
Another sympathetic smile graced Anya’s lips as she looked over at you. She knew how it felt to feel slightly out of place. “Look, I’m technically not supposed to tell you this, so you have to keep it a secret. Okay?” Anya let out a quiet laugh as you nodded quickly. She watched amused as you dropped your strand of hair and leaned in closer. “Daisuke mentioned during his eval that he wanted to get to know you more. Maybe you could try talking to him? You two have more in common than you might think.”
You looked down at your lap again, biting at the inside of your cheek. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I will.”
“Well, you’re all set. You’re free to go.” Anya closed the file and tucked it away alongside the others in her desk. “Thank you for your time, [Name]. I assume I’ll see you here tomorrow. Same time as usual?”
“Same time as usual,” you echoed, beaming as you got out of your chair and left the room.
From the hallway leading to the medical bay, you could tell that the lounge was quiet now. Curly and Jimmy must have wandered off elsewhere. It would have been completely silent if it weren’t for the subtle sound of pencil scratching coming from deeper within. As you entered the room you noticed Daisuke, hunched over the table as he sketched something in his sketchbook. Completely oblivious. You leaned against the doorway and watched from a distance for a moment, admiring as he tucked a tuft of fried brown hair behind his ear.
“What are you drawing?” you questioned.
Daisuke jumped in his seat like a cat that had been snuck up on. His eyes shot to you, the surprise he felt immediately quelling into a tenuous excitement. He hastily closed his sketchbook —almost like he was hiding something— and smoothed out his hair. His mouth broke out into a wide, infectious smile, the gap in his two front teeth a thin ravine and the dimples on either side of his mouth tiny sinkholes.
“Me? Oh, y’know, just doodling,” he said, leaning back in his chair as if trying to act casual. “Where ya been? I couldn’t find- I mean, I didn’t see you back in the cockpit.”
“Psych eval.” You pointed over your shoulder with your thumb as you pushed yourself from the doorframe. “Can I see it?” you asked, walking up to the table and taking the seat across from him.
“Uhh… see what?” Daisuke asked in turn, voice coy and simultaneously flustered.
“Your doodles,” you responded with a laugh. “Only if you’re okay with that, obviously.”
“Oh! I mean, yeah. That’s like, totally fine. But, fair warning, they’re not that incredible or anything.” Reluctantly, Daisuke passed you his sketchbook. He looked rather bashful, cheeks slightly flushed and smile wavering.
“Hey, that’s not fair. I’ve seen your stuff on Anya’s corkboard. You’re really good.” You took the sketchbook in your hands, looking down at the cover of it. It was absolutely littered in a random assortment of stickers. Only through the few and far between gaps could you see that it was once a pure black. It looked much cooler now decorated with the various games, bands, and whatever else Daisuke liked. “Are you sure you don’t mind me looking? Again, it’s perfectly fine if you changed your mind.”
“Nah, it’s all good. Just don’t expect too much, ‘kay?” he replied, running a hand through his hair.
“No expectations,” you agreed.
You turned over the cover, revealing the first page. In red ink you read ‘if found please return to Daisuke, thank youuuuuu’, alongside it was a doodle of himself looking particularly grateful. Or maybe he was pleading. You chuckled under your breath and began flipping through the rest of the pages. Each one was filled with sketches and those increasingly familiar doodles of predominantly other people. Friends, maybe family, and characters from the different games he liked. His work wasn’t quite realistic, but not the most stylized either. Rather, it seemed to be a perfect mix of the two. Something entirely unique to him. To Daisuke.
The deeper you got into the book you started to spy familiar faces. Captain Curly, Swansea, Anya, even Jimmy, but mostly you. You glanced up at him, seeing that he was seemingly avoiding eye contact with you all together. His hand was still tangled within his hair, head turned to the side, and lips knitted into a fine line. That mole —high on his left cheek— stared at you more than his own eyes.
When you finally got to the last page you realized he hadn’t been doodling at all. Instead, there before you, in soft pencil sketching, was a portrait of you that Daisuke had drawn from memory. It wasn’t perfect, but it was incredibly detailed nevertheless. You held up the book, taking in the details with a look of awe on your face. He captured all of your little imperfections —the tilt of your eyes, the quirk in your smile, all of it.
“Daisuke, these are actually so good!” you exclaimed, setting the book down and passing it back to him.
“You… you really think so?” He let out a breath of relief, finally looking at you again. “Man, I thought you would find them totally weird. I’ve been too scared to show anyone else but Anya.”
“Why would I think they’re weird?” you asked.
“Shit, I dunno…” Daisuke trailed off.
You shook your head. “You’re really talented.”
“I- Thank you,” he breathed. Daisuke’s face softened as you looked at him from across the table. The flush in his cheeks was barely noticeable, a fair pink dusting the peaks of his features. “Hey, I noticed you brought a Walkman on board with you. I never thought I’d actually see one of those things in the flesh.”
“Oh, yeah,” you laughed lightly. “It was a gift from my mom. It’s outdated as hell, but I’ve got a bunch of custom tapes back in my room. We should totally listen to them sometime.”
“Are you kidding? Dude, I’d love to-”
“Daisuke!” Swansea called from down the hall, cutting him off. He rounded the corner, sticking his head into the lounge with a sweaty brow. “There you are. Get your ass up, break time’s over. We’ve got work to finish up before dinner.”
Daisuke looked noticeably disappointed at the sight of Swansea. “But I-”
“No ‘buts’. C’mon now, I don’t have all day,” Swansea said with a huff before he turned around, walking back toward the utility room.
“Coming,” Daisuke sighed. He stood up, tucking his sketchbook under his arm with a slight frown. “Guess I’ll see ya later, [Name].”
“Yeah! I’ve got to show you some of my mixes, remember?” you responded sweetly, smiling up at him.
Daisuke nodded enthusiastically. As he left the room, he adopted a pep in his step. A smile was glued to his face as he beamed down the hall. The human embodiment of sunshine in that moment.
#reader#x reader#reader insert#daisuke mouthwashing#mouthwashing daisuke#mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing x reader#daisuke x reader#daisuke#fem reader#curly mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#mouthwashing daisuke x reader
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arlecchino x fem!reader | mother and father.
(nsfw+trans!arle)
warnings: mentions of having babies, mentions of pregnancy, etc.
Taking care of the children in the Orphanage taken care by ”Father“, you always have been called Mother by the children. They always thought that you‘re the mother, and it makes you feel a little embarrassed. What the Knave say when she comes back from her trip to Snezhnaya and finds out?
“Mama, mama!“ several children call for you. “Where is Father? Mama should never be alone!“ You let out a small sigh, your cheeks burning red. “I..Father is out, okay, my children? She will come back soon.“ You gently tell them, nervously smiling as they continue to call you mama.
You are in the kitchen cleaning the dirty dishes from the children that had eaten earlier, putting the forks and spoons to the correct place. You suddenly heard the door open from the Orphanage, and a familiar face came up running to you.
Furina. What was she doing here? She never came here. It should be something important if she came running to you with a panicked expression. “Hey, hey friend! Ah..this might be so weird to hear from somebody who was once the mighty hydro archon, but..can you please have a talk with the Knave and tell her to stop scaring me?! She always looked so scary and dangerous every time we stared at each other, blehh…“
You sigh and give her a nod. She nods back with a smile and runs out of the orphanage with a small wave before walking out. What was that? She wants you to talk to Arlecchino now? You better hope that she won‘t kill you once you ask her to leave the blue woman alone.
Later, you‘re in the main room playing games with the children after you‘ve done all the dishes. You‘re currently sitting next to a couple children, until you heard a sudden opening noise. The door opens and the children happily shout out to you “Mama, look! Father is back!“
You quickly try to shush the child, but the other children continue to call you mother, right infront of the Knave herself.
”Hmm?“ She stares at you with curiousness, then at the children. Mother? She thought. Having children is something she wouldn‘t mind, especially with you, If she only could. If they call you mother, you must be special to them.
”Father, mama has been waiting for you!“
You get flustered and stand up to greed Arlecchino. ”A—ah..Knave, i‘m glad you‘re back..i‘m sorry, these children won‘t stop calling me mama, or mother..“ Scratching your head, you look away with a shy smile, two children hugging your legs while they stare at Arlecchino.“
“It‘s alright. I suppose you took care of them and they did nothing wrong?“ She asks with her stern, gentle voice, looking into your eyes with her red X pupils. God, they get you scared, but they‘re so pretty.
You chuckle nervously. ”Y—yeah, Knave. The children have been behaving very well. No fighting, no stealing, nothing. They have been extra good today..“
“Ah, that is great.“ From the answer she had gotten, her lips form into a slight smile, and walks past you to her office, patting your shoulder one last time. ”I want you in my room, 1 AM. Don‘t be late.“
Huh? Your eyes widen, cheeks forming a red blush as you stand there flustered. You nod before going into your own room that Arlecchino had given you to rest in. You take off your working skirt and your other clothes to change into your night glown.
Its a few hours until you have to meet the Knave in her room, so you can do anything else before the ”meeting”. You lay down on the bed, turning on your phone and messaging one of your friends who you gossip with everyday.
A few hours later, you forgot about meeting the Knave as you do stuff with your phone. But a message notification pops up on your phone. It‘s Arlecchino.
You click on the notification and it brings you to the chat.
> “You‘re late.“
> ”I‘m sorry! I‘ll come right now.“
You message quickly back before putting your phone on the desk and open the door, walking towards Arlecchino‘s room. You knock, but nobody answers. Every child is asleep and the hallway is dark, where is she? Before you could continue thinking, arms are wrapped around your waist, the person putting you on their shoulder. You were about to scream before the familiar voice calms you down.
”Be quiet, it‘s me.“
It‘s not a kidnapper, thank god. It‘s the Knave who suddenly creeped up behind you and picked you up. But it‘s so dark, how can she see so good? She has good eyes.
“Y—you really scared me..“ you whisper out as you bury your head into her shoulder. ”I forgot to tell you…Furina told me to tell you that you sh—” She doesn‘t like hearing that womans name. Before you can talk, she opens the door of her room and pushes you down onto her bed. You yelp as she does so.
And this is where you ended up at. In her bed, head pushed against the pillow as muffled moans escape from your mouth from Arlecchino‘s cock pounding in and out of you in a quick pace, looking like she wants to make you pregnant, to make babies with you.
“m—mmgh…! mmfh—a—arle..!“
Your muffled words are shushed as she grips your head and pushes it more down to the pillow, her thrusts becoming faster and harder, you feel her hitting your sweet spots.
Her face comes closer to your ear and she whispers, ”You‘re gonna be taking care of my children, my children, aren‘t you, la mia bella ragazzal?“
You moan from her words, and as you expected, after her last powerful thrust, she squirts inside you, hot cum slowly starting to drip out of your hole after she pulled her dick out, it being still hard.
She flips you around and grips your chin before giving you a aggressive kiss, her other hand moving to one of your breasts, squishing it.
The hand slowly moves down to her cock, gripping it then guiding it against your messy hole once again, getting ready to push it in.
“I‘m not done with you yet, i‘m going to make you a great, lovely mother, la mia adorabile ragazza.“
You‘re not going to feel your legs tomorrow, but she‘s going to take care of you.
#arlecchino x reader#arlecchino smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin smut#genshin impact#fatui harbingers
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You're my future, past and present
» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 6,4k » Warnings: spoiler mentioned for 9x23 Angels / 9x24 Demons, Spencer's POV, exes to lovers, set after s15, anxious!Spencer, reader feels guilty at one point, language? (one 'bitch' from reader to reader), mentions of past fights, minor misunderstandings, random old lady plays cupid <3, fluff, kissing, how many phrases for being in love can one pack in two paragraphs? me: yes., » A/N: my brain is on strike for finishing bingo fics for some reason, it instead gave us this so yay!, i'm still working on those of course but i can't tell when i will get the next one done (in the words of one Penelope Garcia: Why do the last 10% always take the longest?), hopefully by the end of the week; it's lightly implied that reader can get pregnant in the beginning but it's not explicitly said (only mentions of kids), which is the reason i tagged it as fem but no mentions of anything body related or any pronouns (i think so, please let me know if i missed pronouns), so it might as well can be read as gn; no body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general
⚶ masterlist ⚶
He should have asked Penelope for a favour to look you up, before he came here. He had no idea how your life had changed in all these years he hadn't seen you or if you even wanted to see him again. It didn't particularly sound like it the last time he saw you.
You could be happily married with kids for all he knew. The thought alone almost made him turn around without even knocking on your door. He didn't know what he would do if this was the case. Or maybe you didn't even live here any more, you could have moved; to the other side of the city, to another state. Another country. You had toyed with the idea to move to Scotland back then, it very well could be that you had acted on it.
Too much time had past, five whole years – five years, three months, twenty-one days and eleven hours, forty-two minutes to be exact; but who was counting, right? – and there was too much history, too much heartbreak. Too many reasons why it hadn't worked out.
The main – and kind of only – ones being his job at the BAU and everything that came with it. The travelling and never being home, not even a free day or annual leave really meant not getting called in, the late nights, the worries that he could get hurt and may not be coming back home, the worries when he got hurt.
You had your reasons to break it off and he still thought that you were right to do so. He never held it against you, never resented you for leaving. Because he understood. If the roles would have been reversed, he may would have made the same decisions.
This whole idea was stupid. Why was he even here. He should just leave.
What did he think would happen when you saw him? That showing up out of nowhere – with no contact since the break up, not even a single text message – and having a 'new' job would change everything and would make you jump back into his arms in an instant like nothing happened? Yeah... Sure...
Maybe, deep down and in the tiniest crack of his heart, he didn't even want you to open the door; didn't want to see your reaction to him just showing up and the inevitable rejection that would surely come. He was sabotaging himself, really. And if he would be more honest to himself, he'd knew that. Maybe he did, but just didn't want to see it.
Spencer had been pacing back and forth in front of your door for an eternity by now; walking closer to it and already lifting his hand to knock, but changing his mind before his fingers even came close and he was walking a few feet away to leave, only to change his mind again and repeat the whole ordeal. Over. And over. And over.
He just couldn't make his mind up, he didn't know what to do. It shouldn't be this hard to knock on a door. Especially yours. But maybe it was this hard for him because it was yours.
At one point, he, a man of science, even asked the universe to give him a sign, to show him what he should do; if he should do it or if he should go.
That's when it happened.
Right after, as he was walking closer to the door again, he tripped over his own damn feet and he ended up kicking the door with his shoe; not hard, but audible enough.
Shit. Not the sign he was looking for. A pedestrian screaming something outside that he could twist into an answer, a car honking when he either was close to the door or walking away; hell, even a spam mail popping up on his phone that had a certain word in the subject line... No, it had to be this way.
Now he had to knock.
Taking a shaky breath, he hit his knuckles against the wood a couple of times and started fidgeting with his fingers as soon as he had lowered his hands. His heart was in his throat as he waited anxiously. His mind in a constant battle of 'please be home' and 'please don't be home'.
A moment later – both too short and too long at the same time – the door opened just a crack and it was really you standing there. Not some random person that would tell him you moved. You.
You didn't turn your head just yet, looking back over your shoulder instead, you held out your arm behind you and said “Stay there” in a soft voice to someone behind you. When you turned you blocked the entrance with your body and kept your left hand on the door.
Your eyes grew wide when you saw him. Spencer probably was about the last person you would have expected to see when you opened the door. He couldn't bring himself to break the silence first, didn't dare to speak.
“Oh, hey... Uh-”, you stammered looking for words, blinking in confusion. For a moment you opened and closed your mouth, and he knew you were hating that you looked like a fish out of the water, before you gave up and just settled for another “Hi.”
“Hi.” He hated how shaky his voice sounded. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes for a moment, looking down at his hands and the floor before he met your gaze again.
“Wow, it- it's been a while.”
“Yeah...”
“How long 's it been? Five years?”
“Five years, three months and twenty-one days.” Spencer pressed his lips together before he could blurt out the hours and minutes as well.
You laughed – not mean, but endearing – and the sound combined with the smile that spread on your lips made his heart leap. “Right.”
God, how much he had missed your laugh; how much he had missed you. Now that you stood before him, it became evident, that all the longing and yearning he had felt in the past years had been nothing more than a fraction of what he was really feeling; repressed by throwing himself into work and keeping his mind off you as much as he could.
His love for you never went away, never dulled even the slightest bit, and seeing you now was almost too overwhelming for him, his feelings for you crashing over him, nearly sweeping him off his feet.
“Uhm, I was just about to go to the park with Cleo”, you started, shooting a look over your shoulder and Spencer's heart dropped. He could have sworn it stopped beating for a few seconds as well. The Stay there hadn't rung any alarms in his mind, it could have been said to any person really. Going to the park with Cleo however...
He really should have asked Penelope to look you up before he came. You had a kid.
And since he could only see the heel of your left hand and not your fingers, he couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but there was a high chance there was a ring on your finger.
“Oh, I'm sorry to hold you up. I'll just, uhm-”, he stammered choked up and pointed his thumbs over his shoulder, taking a step back, about to turn away and leave.
“No”, you exclaimed, maybe a bit too quickly and panicked, as you held out your right hand like you wanted to reach for his arm; even making a small step out of the door. “You don't have to leave. You could- uh, you could come with us? If you want to.” If he wouldn't know better, he'd say there was a pleading look in your eyes, begging him to say yes and stay.
His mouth opened, but no words came out, no matter how hard he tried. He didn't even know what he wanted to say.
'Yes sure, let's go to the park with your daughter and rip my heart into pieces seeing and hearing about you living the life I dreamt of having with you, with another man'.
A plain 'No.' would be too rude, wouldn't it? Even if he would add a 'thank you' at the end, it didn't feel right.
“She uh- she likes meeting new people, she's really open; sometimes I'm afraid she'll walk off with anyone. Come here, girl.” You looked over your shoulder again and tapped your flat hand against your thigh a couple of times, then some clicking and scratching could be heard behind you on the parquet floor.
The speckled snout of an Australian Shepherd pushed in the space between your knee and the door, then tried to push through further after seeing Spencer. With a laugh you took a hold of the collar and held the dog back from running out.
“Cleo, stay.” You squatted down next to her, petting her head and scratched behind her ear. ”I have to warn you, she can be a bit rough when she gets excited.” A wide smile was on your face as you looked up at Spencer. “I've been trying to teach her to not jump up on everyone she meets, but it doesn't stick.”
Just like that, he felt like he could breathe again. Cleo wasn't your daughter but your dog and the ring you were indeed wearing on your left hand was one he recognized from your jewellery box.
A relieved chuckle left his lips and he mirrored your position. He held out his hand for Cleo to smell before he touched her. She really was excited; she was pulling against your hold and tried to get closer, her tail was waggling so hard her whole body moved in the rhythm and she nudged her nose against his palm hard after a short sniff, so he would pet her.
You did your best to hold her back, but after Spencer verbally said hi to her and was petting her on both sides of her head she surged forward; your hand slipped from the collar and Cleo threw her whole weight against him, making him loose balance and topple over.
With an outstretched arm he held himself up, laughing, as your dog rubbed her head against his torso and hand and was spinning around a couple of times between his legs, repeatedly leaning herself into him with every turn.
“Cleo!” Your voice had a warning tone to it that hadn't fully replaced your laugh though, not until she let out a small bark and started to lick over his face. “No! Stop!” You pulled her away and moved her back into the apartment; Cleo only reluctantly complied.
Before he could react, you shuffled closer on your knees until you kneeled right before him and in between his legs. You reached out and started to wipe the side of his face clean; the sleeve of your sweater pulled over your fingers. “I'm so sorry, she's usually not that excited. I have never seen her do this to someone that isn't me.”
He froze when you got close and he felt your touch, every soft stroke leaving behind a trail of fire, even with the thin fabric barrier between you. One would think his heart couldn't pound any faster in his chest than it already had since he had laid eyes on you again, but it did.
“It's- hu, it's okay”, he stammered as he was watching you intensely, with wide eyes.
“No, it's not”, you said softly and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, slightly tilting his head to the side as you tried to get everything off. “Do you want a wet wipe or something? You can come in and wash your face if you'd prefer that.”
Spencer couldn't help the smile stretching on his lips, his heart warming over the fact that you were still looking out for him, after all these years; after everything that had happened and all the things that had been said the day you broke up with him. His hand moved on its own accord and he wrapped his hand around your wrist, stopping you. “Really, it's okay.”
You met his gaze, heat rising in your cheeks and it was like you only now realized how close the both of you were sitting and that you were touching him. For a second you froze, your eyes wide. Then, after a deep breath, you pulled back to bring some distance between you and cleared your throat, looking away.
He could tell there was an apology forming on your tongue, but you swallowed it down. You began to nervously fidget with the hem of your sleeve and cleared your throat. “So, uh, do you want to come with us? There is this coffee shop on the way that opened about six months ago and they're really good, we- we could grab a coffee and catch up...?”
“I'd really like that.”
It was easy, talking to you. The initial awkwardness and anxiety he had been feeling had quickly faded and the both of you were talking as freely and open as before, like no time had passed; and he was incredibly grateful for it. Neither of you had been going to personal topics for now though – the closest thing to personal in a deeper sense was when you asked about his mom –, the both of you had been talking more about everything and anything.
[..] Did you end up getting that book collection you had your eyes on? - When did you get Cleo? - Oh, do you remember my coworker Grace? All the rumours really were true! - Is your neighbour still vacuuming solely in the middle of the night? [..]
About halfway to the park you stopped at the café you had mentioned and while you were waiting in line, you told him about the different coffee varieties they offered; the flavours, how strong they were, how sweet, the seasonal ones. You had drunk your way through the list three times and until you decided on your Top 5.
He crinkled his nose in adoration as he was listening to you rambling about the coffee – what you liked about each one and why you didn't like another – totally engrossed by you; you had done this in the past as well and it made Spencer happy that you still were. It was adorable. He wondered, if you still wrote down your Top 5's in that little notebook you had always kept in your purse.
The one you recommended to him was really good, you had met his taste precisely; the perfect amount of sweetness just how he liked it, and with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon.
There were many occasions he was about to reach for your hand, it was almost instinctually when you were this close to him. He didn't know if you would let him, if you would want it. So Spencer didn't. Instead he buried his hand deep into the pocket of his coat to keep himself from reaching for you, holding a tight grip on an old pack of gum he forgot was even in there.
Throughout the whole way from your apartment to the park, Cleo was happily dancing around you, just shy of making one of you trip over her. That she didn't circle around the both of you to wrap the leash around your legs – all '101-Dalmatians'-like – was all.
After you arrived at the park you walked a bit further in until you came to a fenced area that seemed to be reserved for dogs for them to freely run around without having to be leashed. As soon as you unhooked the leash from Cleo's collar she dashed forward, joining a group of dogs playing.
Spencer and you sat down on a bench and just sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching her. His hands got clammy as he got nervous because of the proximity, and he tried to wipe them on his pants as discreetly as he could. You were sitting so close to him, your thighs and shoulders were almost touching; he could feel the warmth radiating from your body and with every soft breeze the smell of your shampoo got carried over.
“So, uh... How have you been?”, you asked after a few minutes.
He huffed out a small laugh and licked over his lips. Where should he even begin. “Long story short? Not good then somewhat okay, bad, worse, better, okay.”
"Sounds like one hell of a roller coaster."
Oh you had no idea how much. And 'hell' sounded about right to be honest. "You could say that... How about you?"
"Wasn't much going on for me to be honest. I've been... okay? After some time at least...”, you admitted nervously, following Cleo with your eyes. “Everything alright at the BAU? How is everyone?”
“Good, they're good.” Spencer started telling you about all the changes within the team, but he left out all the bad stuff for now – he told you about Alex leaving, about Tara joining after practically a 36 hour long job interview for the open position, JJ and Will having a second child, that Morgan left and had married Savanah and that they had a son as well, Garcia vehemently trying – but ultimately failing – to hate the newbie Luke.
“Rossi got married last year.”
“Really? Again?” You let out a soft laugh.
“He re-married his third wife actually. They got back together after-” He had to stop for a second and swallowed hard as the spark of hope was reigniting in his chest. If Dave and Krystall had found their way back to each other after thirty years and made it work, five years didn't sound all that bad in retrospective. He tried to play it off like he was trying to remember the exact number of years. “Around three decades, I think.”
“Wow... That's a lot of time..”
“It is.” For a short moment Spencer didn't say anything more, trying to muster up the courage to tell you he left the team as well.
“And I- uh” He huffed out a small laugh, nervous, and let his gaze wander over the meadow. There he goes... “I'm not- I'm not with the BAU any more, actually.”
“...Oh”
For a moment you didn't say anything else and his heart beat faster. He couldn't a hundred percent gauge what your silence meant. What the oh meant. Did you care? Were you relieved or maybe even sad for him? Could – would – it change anything between you, even after all this time? Would you give the both of you a second chance? Him?
Hope started to rise up again in his chest and he tried to stop it and keep it at bay, so it wouldn't take over him; it would only crush him even more to lose you a second time if he'd let it happen. Spencer's breathing became more shallow and slightly faster as he waited for you to say more.
He could just turn his head to look at your face of course, study your expressions to get his answer without you saying another word. He didn't. Something held him back; maybe it was only because he was respecting your wishes from years ago not to profile you. Maybe it was fear of what he would see.
He heard you clear your throat and when you spoke, your voice was shaking, almost undetectable however. If you wouldn't sit so close to him – and if it wouldn't be you and he wouldn't be him – one probably wouldn't have noticed. “Why not?”
“Re-assignment due to budget-cuts or something like that. There were a couple of people higher up the food chain than Emily that had it out for us for a couple of years now.” His eyes followed Cleo sprinting over the grass, chasing and playing with the other dogs.
“Emily is back?”, you asked. The last thing you knew was that she had left for London not long after she came back from the dead.
“Yeah, she took over from Hotch after-” He stopped himself.
Telling you about Hotch and Scratch and why Emily fully became Unit Chief of the BAU, meant he had to tell you about everything else; everything that had happened to him. He just wasn't ready for this yet. This would have to be a story for another day; for both your and his sake.
“Anyway, I uh- I'm teaching now. Full-time. Mostly at the academy and some colleges here and there. But all in all-” Spencer took a deep breath. “Fixed work hours and no travelling for longer than a day.”
Only when he felt you tense up did he bring himself to look at you. You were sitting up with a straight back, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly pursed. Your eyes were darting around and he watched a muscle twitch on your jaw.
He quickly looked away again, concentrating on Cleo again, before he could read you more. He couldn't help it, it was hard not to and turn it off. By now profiling was in his blood, it was a subconscious habit he couldn't always control, it just happened. You didn't want to get profiled, so he did what he could do to not use his profession on you. If it meant turning away and not look at you, even if he was only looking just to see you, he'd do it.
Also, he knew that he was biased; another reason why he shouldn't. What he would see and read would not be accurate. Usually, this was not a problem, he could read body language and micro-expressions with a 99,42% accuracy, since he'd do it with a neutral stand. But right now it was personal.
What ever Spencer would see in your non-verbal communication, he was too involved to not let his judgement get clouded by his feelings for you, his hopes and his fears. He would only see what he wanted to see, or what he not wanted to see, depending on which part of his heart was winning at the moment; the confident and hopeful part, or the insecure and anxious part.
“That's... That's nice. Do you like it?” He wished, he knew what you were thinking right now. Your tone didn't give much away on how you were feeling, but you seemed a bit more relaxed to him.
“Yeah, it's fun. There are some key topics on the curriculum I have to cover of course, but other than that I have pretty much full reign over the subject matters. Learning is more fun when it is about something you're really interested in, so I take suggestions from my students for a lot of the lectures. It's been paying off already.” He smiled proudly. “They contribute more and most grades have gone up.”
Slowly, the longer you talked as the evening proceeded and the sun slowly began to set, he let himself go, allowed his heart to open up and he welcomed the prospect of having you back in his life – to what ever extent it may be, even if only as a friend if that was what you wanted.
His heart had leaped when you shared you weren't seeing anyone and it hadn't slowed down it's pace ever since. Both of you had been talking and asking about it in the most complicated and conspicuously inconspicuous ways one can ask 'are you dating someone?'.
Not only this, but you wanted to spent more time with him. Spencer couldn't believe his luck. It was almost too good to be true and he feared he might wake up from this wonderful dream any minute.
He could tell how nervous you were when you asked him; hands and voice shaking, fingers fidgeting with Cleos leash in your lap, your eyes not daring to meet his.
"Tonight is this big bonfire at the Benson's farm, you know, the one with the apple orchard? I was thinking of going and.. maybe if you- I mean, if you are free tonight and want, uh- Would you like to go with me?"
There was nothing he'd rather do, nowhere he'd rather be.
After a short stop at your apartment to bring Cleo home and for the both of you to freshen up, you made your way to the farm. It was a fairly short drive and the roads were mostly empty as it got later, a bright full moon illuminating the way now.
When you arrived, there weren't too many people present. It felt more like a large family gathering than a big event. At a decent distance were benches placed around the huge bonfire, there was a tent where various beverages and a few food options were served. Next to it stood a truck from the fire department and an ambulance; a precaution if the fire got out of control or someone got hurt.
The air smelled of smoke and burning wood, french fries, beer and Mrs. Benson's home made apple pie.
Sorry, Mr. Benson's apple pie as Spencer learned some time after you arrived. You introduced him to the hosts and you started to talk about a new recipe for the pie filling you had tried to make and Mr. Benson explained what he would have done different than the recipe you found had stated.
The Benson's were nice people – he had met them once when he had accompanied you to the farm to get apples and honey. You had gotten closer to them since then, dropping by to help them out from time to time, especially when it was time for the harvest.
He had to catch his breath as his heart fluttered, his eyes glued to your face as he watched you talk with old man Benson. The way your eyes wrinkled at the corners when you smiled and the excited glint in your eyes, how the fire painted beautiful orange patterns on your face as the flames danced high, fuelled by the soft breeze; combined with the silvery light of the full moon shining bright. You looked ethereal.
Spencer became increasingly aware of said man's wife and her three friends, who stood a little farther away. The women were whispering to each other and kept looking over, one of them not so subtlety pointing at the both of you. They weren't talking badly, not at all; they were smiling and giggling as they were talking, nodding at what the other ones were saying, swooning with their hands over their hearts from time to time.
It could only mean one thing – and he wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed about it, or not: that he all too obviously for everyone around looked as love struck as he felt; utterly bewitched by your beauty, completely head over heels, truly madly and deeply in love with you in every way, a total goner who was worshipping the ground you were walking on.
Thank god for the warm shine of the fire, or they would be able to see the blush rising up his neck in this moment as well... He just was glad that he had finished his piece of pie before this, otherwise he'd probably stand here with an open mouth and the fork frozen in mid air as he was looking at you. Now, that would have been a good picture.
What he didn't know though, was that they weren't just talking about the smitten look on his face, but yours as well. The longing glances you shot his way whenever he wasn't looking, how you were orbiting around him like the earth around the sun, a magnetic pull to each other that not even the both of you seemed to realise you had as you unconsciously stepped closer to the other when you stood too far apart. They talked about the fact, that you looked at Spencer with such a happy and beaming smile they hadn't seen on your face in a long time.
And that they could tell how hesitant and shy the both of you were about getting closer.
It's not like he didn't want to, believe me. The urge to hold your hand or wrap his arms around you – to kiss you – was still burning in every fibre of his body and it got more and more challenging to hold back, the longer he was around you. Leaving out the tiny part in him that was still afraid of getting rejected, he didn't want to impose on you by acting on it. He didn't want to possibly make you uncomfortable, so he left it to you to initiate any physical contact.
Admittedly, this was very much a bad plan if you were doing the same and were waiting for him to make the first move. However, the universe seemed to take matters in its own hands again.
Spencer had to remove himself from of the situation for a moment to restore some of his composure and not ogle you non-stop; especially not in front of all these people. He let you know that he would get the both of you something to drink and asked what he should get for you; when he came back, Mr. Benson had left.
For some time you stayed close to the fire, until he saw you lift your hand to fan yourself some air. “Too warm?”
You let out a small laugh and smiled at him. “Yeah, it starts getting a bit too much.”
He took the now empty cup from you and with a tilt of his head he signalled you to follow him. He gave the cups back to the person behind the make-shift bar counter and you walked a little farther away, putting some distance between you and both the tent and the fire. And the people too actually, the majority had gathered close around the flames in small groups.
“That's much better”, you sighed. “I like a nice fire as much as the next pers- oh.”
Before you could finish, you lost your balance when a body collided with yours from behind. You stumbled forward and Spencer instinctively reached out to catch you – he got a hold of your arms with a firm grip on them right above your elbows as you fell into him, bringing up your own hands to hold onto his shoulders.
“Oh, dear, I am so sorry, I must have tripped over something. Are you okay?”, the voice of a woman came from behind you.
Neither of you let go of the other as you turned to face her. Spencer recognized her as one of the women that had talked with Mrs. Benson earlier and the look on her face told a whole different story than her words; that she wasn't sorry at all and that it had been deliberately planned to bump into you.
“I'm okay, no worries. Are you?”, you asked her and quickly scanned her for injuries.
“Ooh, I'm good. I'm good...”, she replied, almost in a sing-sang kind of tone and a wide smile on her lips. She snickered softly and walked away, her hand raised with a lazy kind of flick in her wrist as a wave good-bye.
The both of you watched her walk away, baffled.
“Okayyy”, you let out as you kept your eyes on her for a moment longer. “As long as she didn't twist her ankle or something.”
You turned your head, and just like earlier in front of your apartment, it seemed like you only just now realised the position you were in when your eyes met his. How close you were and that you were still holding on to each other.
Only this time, you didn't pull away.
The world around him seemed to fade away, time standing still, as he held your gaze. Your breath hitched and when his eyes flickered down to your lips, Spencer felt your grip on him tighten, subconsciously pulling him closer to you. His heart was in his throat and it beat so loud that he was sure you were able to hear it. He let his eyes wander back up and when he saw that you were looking at his lips as well, he threw all caution in the wind and just... did it.
He let go of your elbows, took your face in his hands and leaned in, hovering his lips over yours for a short moment to give you an out, to give you time to pull away, but you didn't; instead you closed the small space that was left between you.
A long and deep sigh rumbled in the back of his throat when your lips met and he pulled you closer; as you leaned into him, your hands moved higher until your fingers were tangled in his hair, slightly tugging on it.
When you pulled back – more than reluctantly, but the both of you were still in public – , you were panting, your breaths mingling as your faces were still so close to each other. Spencer kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, not quiet ready to open them yet, afraid that when he did, he would wake up from an incredibly vivid dream.
“I'm sorry”, you suddenly choked out, which made him open his eyes in an instant. Tears were streaming down your face and you took a step back, keeping him at arms length. “I am so sorry, Spencer.”
“Hey, what's wrong? Talk to me, please.” Your emotions had changed so suddenly, he didn't know what happened, what made you cry. He wasn't sure what he should do, how he could help you calm down.
“I'm sorry”, you repeated, shaking your head.
“What for?” Did you regret letting him get close to you again; kissing him? Did you regret, that you hadn't just closed the door right in his face as soon as you had seen him this afternoon?
“Everything!” you choked out. “For how I acted all the time and for leaving like that, for leaving when I did. That I didn't contact you even once. For saying all those things, it wasn't fair. It never was. You didn't deserve it. I was so mean for no reason...” You sniffled and wiped the back of your hand under your nose. “I regretted every word the moment I said it, I didn't mean any of it. I couldn't stop talking and it was like I was losing control over myself and it all just came out and-....”
“Hey, I know...” Spencer took a small step closer to you. “In that moment it hurt, yes. And it took a lot of time until it stopped hurting; sometimes it still does. But I get it. You were scared. Some people get angry and lash out at the people around them when they are scared, especially directed at the person they are scared for; everyone reacts different. It's a totally normal reaction, I don't blame you.“
A sob came over your lips, your face twisting in pain. “Please don't be like that...”
His brows furrowed, a short and sharp pain in his chest. “Like what?”, he breathed out.
“So understanding... I acted like a total bitch to you! You should hate me... Why don't you hate me?” Your voice broke and got smaller with every word.
The corners of his mouth slightly raised to the whisper of a smile and Spencer closed the distance between you, lifting his hands to cup your cheeks. He wholeheartedly meant what he said next; there was not one thing he could think of that would change anything about it.
“I could never hate you.”
“You were shot. You needed me and left you alone and-”
“I've had worse. Before that day in Texas and certainly after”, he trailed off and softly shook his head when your brows furrowed even more, pain and fear so evidently in your eyes; he could tell that you knew he wasn't talking about anything related to the break-up.
“It's okay, I'm okay.” Spencer brushed your tears away, holding your face so gently in his hands as if you'd break into a million pieces if he wasn't careful enough. By the looks of it, you may very well would. Not a risk he was willing to take.
You opened your mouth to say something, but he stopped you from asking what had happened after, by placing his thumb over your lips. “Not tonight.” Gently, he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip to the corner of your mouth. “We'll talk about it all and I will tell you everything, I promise. Just.. not tonight, okay?”
He wanted to stay in that little bubble you had created a little longer and ignore everything else but the feeling of having you back in his arms, being able to kiss and hug and touch you again, he just wanted to revel in your presence and your love. Everything else could wait; the guilt, the talking it out, the pain and especially all the bad stuff he had held back.
You pulled him closer by the collar of his jacket until there was no room left between you. For a second you fought with yourself, your eyes darting back and forth between his like you were looking for something in his gaze before you acted on what you wanted to do. Then-
“I love you.”
Before he could say, think or do anything else, Spencer dove down and pressed his lips against yours, smiling widely into the kiss. His heart was racing and he felt like a huge burden had fallen from his shoulders that he didn't even know he had been carrying. When he pulled back he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “I love you.”
He couldn't hold back his own soft laugh when he heard you giggle happily before you said: “I can't believe you still want me...”
“It's you. It's always been you and it always will be you.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#ghosts can write#💜 s.r.#--- mismatched🧦
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Could I request Azriel and Plus Size reader where they’re both new to the mate bond and she overheard Azriel and Rhys’ conversation about the “Cauldron being wrong.” She left before she was able to hear Azriel call himself a fool for even believing it for a second, knowing that he’s already kissing the ground his own mate walks on. She starts comparing herself to Elain and then starts lashing out, going to Rita’s every night and avoiding Azriel whenever she sees him.
Cauldron Blessed | Azriel
Azriel (ACOTAR) x Plus Size Reader
Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body-image issues, angst, and eventual smut.
MASTERLIST - 1 and 2
'The Cauldron was wrong, so wrong.'
Those words played and replayed in my mind again and again, all day, every day, for the last week.
Wrong.
He said that the Cauldron was wrong- about us, about me.
Me, his mate- wrong.
It had been an accident, me overhearing them that night, a coincidence I had decided to come home early from my girl's night with Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie. Though with the Cauldron, there was no such thing as an accident, no such thing as coincidence.
I'd waded through the House of Wind, tipsy on wine and giggling softly to myself as I banged into the walls, thumping clumsily against the art pieces hanging and tripping over my own two feet. Giddy, I had been giddy, stumbling through the halls in search of him.
Azriel, my mate.
Only a few hours apart and I missed him, yearned for him, I felt the distance as if it spanned miles and the more I drank, the more I craved him. That's all I had been thinking of when I trekked through the empty halls, closer and closer to the lounge- just of my mate.
And that's when I heard it.
"The Cauldron works in mysterious ways," Rhysand's laugh drifted out to me in the corridor, and I came to an unsteady halt at the sound. "Feyre was my salvation; I didn't expect anything good to come to me Under the Mountain."
I smiled to myself, my hand coming to my mouth, shielding any sound that threatened to slip past- Az always teased that my lips loosened when I drank too much. Instead, I lean against the cold wall, warmth filling me as he gushed about my High Lady.
They were Cauldron blessed, that was clear to see.
"I think five hundred years of waiting for her was enough, brother," Cassian snorted, and I heard the faint sound of liquor pouring into a glass, wings rustling as one of the powerful males moved. "I know I never imagined my mate as a twenty-five-year-old human female, with a bite worse than mine."
I bit my lip as Cassian laughed, a loud, bellowing sound, so full of joy, so full of content, the mere memory of Nesta, human and utterly indomitable against him something that still brought him to his knees.
"The Cauldron must have a sense of humour," Rhysand teased, and I could practically envision Cassian rolling his eyes, a vulgar gesture thrown between the two males. "Connecting people in the most unexpected pairs, in the most unexpected ways."
"Like Elain and Lucien," Cass scoffs, loudly chugging back the remnant in his glass, "There's a pair I could never have foreseen, not in a thousand years."
"Proof that the Cauldron isn't always right," Azriel muses for the first time since I arrived, and my body almost croons at the sound- low and rough, moving over me as sure as if it were his hands. "She deserves better than any male friends with Tamlin, that's for sure."
She deserves better.
It was silly I knew, for the mere mention of her, the thought of her to make me feel nauseous, make my smile instantly fade, but I couldn't help it. It was hard for me to see a female as lovely as Elain Archeron and not feel inadequate by comparison.
Another who was blessed, so lovely that she had been gifted her seer abilities by the Cauldron itself as if her beauty and delicate demeanour weren't gift enough.
"Brave words, Az," Rhys whistled, and I had to force myself to blink away the picture-perfect image I had conjured of the middle Archerson sister, forcing myself to focus on their conversation instead. "Openly opposing the Cauldron."
"Brave or stupid?" Cassian counters tauntingly, and I knew he was drunk just from how loud his voice was, practically bouncing off the walls. "You think the Cauldron makes mistakes?"
"I know it does," Azriel challenges and it was that voice, that sure, quiet demeanour that I adored and desired so fiercely. I inch closer to the door, grinning at the idea of popping out and scaring them- but then he says it.
Says the thing that makes me stop dead in my tracks, makes my heart stop dead in my chest.
"Look at me and Y/N," Azriel sighs, and there's no joy, or adoration or yearning in his voice in memory of me, not like Rhys or Cass- no, there's dread. "The Cauldron made us mates... the Cauldron was wrong, so wrong."
There's a loud crack that echoes through the room, and it's that sound, and the feel of sharp debris against my palm, that pulls me from my memories. I blink through the tears, looking down at the crumbling marble sink, the corner pieces breaking off into my hands.
I sob through my teeth at the sight, small cuts leaking stark red blood down my fingers as I bring my hands to my chest. I can't see the looking- glass before me, not through the haze of tears, tears so strong it's as if I were made of them.
As if they had become a part of me.
It was all I had done the past week, cry and cry and cry- and avoid Azriel.
Every morning I skip training and breakfast, feigning fatigue or a full stomach, just so I wouldn't see him there. Each afternoon I'd get lost in the stacks and stacks of books in the library, so vast and endless that Azriel never stood a chance of finding me in the maze.
And at night I'd find solace wherever I could find a drink- Rita's, taverns, the Music Quarter, anywhere. Anywhere but at home, anywhere that I didn't have to see him.
I couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the sight of his face, even now the thought of his tilted smile, the beam of his soft hazel eyes, the touch of his scared hands and wild shadows, it made my whole body wrecked with sobs.
I couldn't bear any of it anymore- because none of it was real.
Every smile and touch, every kiss and moment where our bodies joined as one, where he confessed his love and devotion to me, it wasn't real. Azriel thought we were wrong, a mistake, a confusion, just wrong.
My hands shook as I wiped the tears from my cheeks, rougher than necessary, blood-smearing, but I was tired of tears, I was tired of crying, of feeling so unworthy. I was unworthy of him; he was beautiful inside and out and deserved so much better than me.
I sniffed as I lifted my gaze to the looking glass before me, and my heart hurt at the reflection, knowing that this was what Azriel saw, that this was why he knew the Cauldron was wrong. Every curve and roll and inch of flesh that I had, all of it, it was all wrong.
And I hated myself for it.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I take a step back and then another step, away from the reflection that taunted me, and mocked me, before forcing myself to look away. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat as I moved across the cold floor of my bathing suit, my body desperate for my bed.
And as I step over the door's threshold, and back into my old room in the House of Wind, I know it's not the same as when I had left it ten minutes ago.
He was here.
"Azriel," I gasped, halting at the sight of him- sat on the edge of my bed, his broad shoulders and powerful wings rising sharply at the sound of my voice, those hazel eyes meeting mine and filling with something honeyed and warm. "Wha- what are you doing here?"
He rises from the bed, elegant and still, his shadows dancing around him at the feel of my presence, the scent of my skin, and I shiver as he watches me, keen eyes gracing my stiff figure.
"Y/N," He sounds almost relieved as he says my name and my breath is caught in my lungs as I stay rooted to my spot, and he seems to sense my unease, as he doesn't move any closer to me. "You've been staying here for a week now; I missed you at home."
Home- the apartment we shared in town together, a cosy space that we had made our own.
Another thing I couldn't bear to face.
"I've been catching up with the girls," I say quietly, ripping my eyes from him and walking forward on numb legs. I tug at the hem of my nightshirt, his nightshirt I had stolen, feeling too bare before him and his eyes narrow at the movement. "It's just easier to sleep here when we have plans every day."
As spymaster it was Azriel's job to scrutinise, to observe and I felt every single part of that slot into place as he watched me now, watched as I moved toward the bed. I wasn't looking at him, I couldn't hold his stare- and he couldn't figure out why.
His shadows dance through the room, through the distance between us and I jolt, biting my lip when one brushes against my bare thigh- before scurrying back to Azriel in surprise. He inhales a sharp breath when his shadow whispers to him, telling him that something is wrong, I was wrong.
"I know you've been spending time with the girls," Azriel continues slowly, his voice tentative and soft as I move to the other side of the bed, furthest from where he stood. "I just feel like I haven't seen you at all... I miss you, sweetheart."
Sweetheart.
A sob threatened to rip from me at the name, so soft, so endearing on his lips and it took everything in me to not fall apart at that moment, to not crumble under the weight of it all. I shake my head, my back turned to him now and he watches as I tug back the duvet, my actions angry now.
"It's only been a week Azriel," I breathe through my clenched teeth, my tone so at odds with his and my body locking tighter at the sound of his impending footsteps. "Sometimes space can be good, it can be eye-opening, show us things we don't want to admit but know deep down."
My words hit him head-on, like a slap across the face- I don't need to see him to know it, I can tell just from the stillness in the room, the silence, so strong that even his shadows have withered.
I clench my eyes at the feeling, at the touch that strokes against my soul, him reaching out to me through the mating bond- and me slamming up every wall I have to keep him away.
"What does that mean?!"
I don't hear him until he's right behind me and when his large hand touches the small of my back, I jolt, stumbling into the bed to get away from it. I turn on shaking legs to face him, and I'm pressed into the mattress to keep the distance.
"What? Y/N-" His face pales, and I see the pain in his eyes, unlike anything I had ever witnessed from him before. It was raw, vulnerable as if five hundred years of existence couldn't hide the hurt, knowing that I had flinched from his touch, flinched from him.
A rejection- something he feared the most.
"Sweetheart, please, I don't understand," He shook his head, his beautiful face twisted into an agonised frown, and his voice trembled, weak, as weak as the hand that now reached for me, shaking as if scared to touch me. "Why won't you let me touch you? Why are you pulling away from me, why-"
He stops, and for a moment I think it's because of the tears steadily leaking down my face, the way my bottom lip trembles with the effort to hold myself together- but it's not. His nose flared, and the hazel in his eyes turned dark, narrowing down upon my hands.
"You're bleeding," He mumbles hoarsely and the pain in my chest triples when his scarred hands inch closer, my eyes fluttering shut the second he touches me, holding my palms in his and examining the small cuts. "What happened, sweetheart-"
"Don't! Don't- don't call me that, don't touch me," I croak out, my voice breaking and Azriel flinches at the cry in my voice, wings rustling when I yank my hands-free from his hold, as if his touch burned me. "Stop pretending, stop making me think you care, just-just stop."
"I don't understand, what do you mean pretending-" He pleads, his voice splintering, and I can see him thrumming with emotion, desperate to reach out to me, to hold me, but trying to respect what I had asked him. "I don't understand, help me understand what I did wrong-"
"I know how you feel about me, a-about us," I sob, my weak hands coming to my face, and I cry into them, so loud that nothing can muffle them, and I feel Azriel's' helplessness down the bond, still reaching for me, "It was cruel, to make me think-to make me think you loved me-"
"I do love you!" He snarls and my eyes snap open when I feel the familiar roughness of his hands against my wet cheeks, his grip unrelenting and needing as he draws me to him- and I don't have the strength to fight him. "Of course, I love you, why would you say that?"
His thumbs brush away the tears that won't stop leaking from my cheeks and somehow my fingers have found purchase in the material of his shirt, nails digging desperately, clutching him as tightly as he held me.
"You said it was wrong," I whisper, the words slurring in my throat, and I force my heavy eyes to his, force myself to look into those teary hazel eyes and confront him, with the burden I had been carrying alone this whole time. "You said that we were wrong, that the Cauldron was wrong."
His forehead creases, lines forming between the thick, dark brows as he peers down at me, and his hands don't release me, if anything they draw me closer.
And I see the moment realisation hits him, like ice-cold water seeping through his veins.
"I heard you talking to Rhys and Cass, you said we were proof," I gasp, feeling his shadows curl and wreath around my wrists and fingers, as if afraid to let go, as if trying to comfort me as I sniff. "You said we were proof that the Cauldron could be wrong, so wrong."
"I didn't mean you, Y/N, I would never mean you," He beseeches, his breath caressing my face, my lips and his eyes are so intense, so vibrant that I can't look away, "I didn't mean you, I meant me, I'm wrong!"
I suck in a harsh breath at his outburst and I feel it then- the self-deprecation, the vulnerability, the fear, it was all aimed at himself, it was all about him.
The silence stretches on as we stare at each other and my face must hold every ounce of my surprise and confusion, because he sighs, his forehead resting against mine. I see his wings sag behind him, as if defeated.
"I don't know how much you heard but I did not mean that the Cauldron was wrong to pair you with me," He mutters, his words unsteady, and my eyes flutter shut at his words, "I meant that the Cauldron was wrong to pair me with you- the Cauldron has blessed me but forsaken you."
"Azriel-" I gasped, and it was now my hand that lifted between us, my hand that cupped his stubbled cheek, forcing his eyes to mine. "That's not true, I'm not forsaken, I'm blessed, I'm Cauldron-blessed, Mother-blessed to have you-"
"Y/N you deserve the world, the sun and the moon and the stars," Azriel's voice breaks, a sob gurgling in his throat as he nestles against my palm, now wet with his tears. "I have spent five hundred years being unworthy of anything, and now that I have you, I will spend the next five hundred being unworthy of you."
He felt unworthy of me, he thought that he did not deserve me.
"Don't say that don't- you've given me the world and more," I shake my head, forcing every inch of surety and strength into my voice, "I love you, so much, so much that the thought of you thinking we were wrong, it killed me Az, because you're all I need."
He shakes his head against my hold, but his hands slip down my back, down my waist and to my hips and thighs, fingers digging into my flesh, holding onto my meat for leverage and pressing my soft body against his firm one for dear life.
"Not once did I ever think you were the problem, I thought it was me," His brow furrows deeper at my words, and I see the denial in his eyes, in his face, "I see a male who is beautiful inside and out, who is powerful and skilled, who has been a saviour to this Court in so many ways and I can't come close, I can't ever be equal to that Az."
"Y/N, no-" He growls, nails carving crescent moons into my flesh.
"I'm not a warrior like Nesta or a ruler like Feyre," I continue, and I open up the walls I erected to keep him out from my soul and mind, letting the mating bond flow freely again- to let him see all I had thought these few days. "I'm not beautiful like Elain... I'm not enough."
"You are everything," He hisses, and I can feel his overwhelming pain as sure as if it were my own as he graces over my feelings and thoughts- as he takes in every disgusting, horrific thing I had thought about myself, about my body. "You are everything and more to me, Y/N."
Power flashes through his eyes and then his head ducks toward me, capturing my lips in his.
Time seems to slow when his lips meet mine in a gentle collision, the kind of impact that steals the breath from my lungs, the kind I can't get enough of. Azriel grumbles at the taste of wine on my mouth, his tongue lapping at mine as if devouring the sweetness.
"Azriel," I sigh, like putty in his capable hands, and like always, he's skilled with how he handles my body, so easily turning us so my legs hit the mattress, my body weightless as he lifts me to sit on the edge.
"I have seen you navigate politics and arrogant High Lords in a way that has us all on our knees," He mutters against my lips, and I croon at the feel of his hands languishing up my thighs and hips, squeezing the flesh, his eyes dark with desire now.
His nose brushes against my cheek, so bare, as he kisses and trails his tongue along my jaw, moving down my neck and I can't do anything but moan softly as he lies me flat on my back, his powerful body towering over me, covering me wholly.
"I have seen you cut down soldiers triple your size as if they were little more than weeds in a field," His canines scrape against the racing pule-point at my neck and my eyes flutter, neck exposing for him and back arching when his hand cups my breast over my shirt.
He settles between my thighs, and he groans when his hard length brushes my wet core, the smell of arousal heavy in the air, the kind of stimulation that made us both dizzy with need. I arch my hips up to meet him, needing to feel something, anything from him.
"And I have seen males and females alike marvel at your beauty, at your body, desiring to see you without a scrap of clothing on," Azriel's voice turns furious, dark, as if the mere thought of someone else seeing me naked made him violent, honed to kill.
"Az, please," I mewl, fingers clawing at his back, feeling the muscles ripple under my touch, his shadows in a frenzy, caressing and dancing and wreathing around my body, feeding off every moan that escaped me. "I need you Az, please."
He presses long, wet kisses against my jugular and I sigh in relief when I feel his body shift, hips lifting and the sound of a belt clinking as he unhooks his slacks, freeing his hard length from within.
"I love you, sweetheart," His head lifts, face tight with sincerity and I can feel the thumping of his heart against mine, those intense eyes capturing me wholly. "I love all of you, I love all that you are-"
"Body," His fingers hook into my underwear, and I gasp as he tugs the wet material to the side, fingers brushing my clit.
"Mind," Our sounds meld as he rubs the tip of his cock against me, parting my folds, spreading my arousal from my entrance to my clit, and his breathing deepens as I whimper.
"And soul." He pushes into my entrance, stretching me just from the tip and automatically, my thighs clamp around his hips and my back arches at the feeling of him.
"I love you, Y/N," He pushes in until his long, thick length hits my cervix and my cunt is stretched thoroughly, throbbing around him. I trace my hands up his arms, nails scratching along every muscle, every strong, lean plane of him.
"I love you too, Azriel," I whisper back, and when my eyes flutter open, I see him above me and I know that nothing else, no one else could feel this right.
He doesn't move, merely staring down at me, his eyes burning like embers- feeling the thought as intensely as I did.
The Cauldron was right, so right.
----------------------------
@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @loveareum @infintyfandoms @sarawritestories @eerievixen
Comment to be added to the tag-list >3
#acotar#acomaf#acowar#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#azriel smut#cassian acotar#rhysand#acotar smut#smut#plus size reader#azriel x plus size reader#acotar fanfiction#sarah j maas#sjmaas#plus size smut#plus size y/n
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{Missing you}
ft& Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Scaramouche
a/n: been so looong since my last post, I'm overwhelmed with exams and having to study😭🫠 trying to become more active as best as I can, so here's a little scenarios of various genshin men missing you and your body.
summary: your lover has been awfully busy these past weeks and you as well which resulted in you two rarely seeing the other, much less spending time with one another. it's late and your boyfriend finds himself desperate for you but you aren't there to help him.
sw: nsfw, fem!reader, afab, jerking off, humping for alhaitham, needy men, a little bit of size kink for wrio's part, slight pet names, lowercase writing etc.
neuvillette who finds himself buried in paperwork in his office inside the palais mermonia but he still cannot get his mind off you, how he wished he had you here with him, cockwarming him on his lap while he worked—simply imagining it makes his pants feel tight, he misses having your warm folds around his shaft, the way you'd always let out the prettiest sounds when he even slightly touched you or raised his hips... he doesn't even realize that he has long forgotten his work, his hand around his cock, spreading the pre over his length as he gave a few pumps making him groan. "hnngh...so hard and you're not here to help me, I am acting in such a vulgar way, it's embarrassing yet...yet I can't get you out of my mind..." he mumbled to himself, fantasizing that it was your lips wrapped around him, sucking him in while playing with his balls while he only fucked himself deeper in your throat, when he came, he opened his eyes to see his hand coated with his cum, "...ah, what a mess, if only you were here to clean it up." finally returning to his senses after he relieved himself, he heard a knock on the door, "monsiuer neuvillette, is everything alright?" he was caught off guard by the question of the melusine behind the door, quickly he composed himself, hoping no one would come in and see him in such an embarrassing situation. "yes, of course. there is nothing to worry about, everything is alright." now he knew he needed to take a break and have you on his lap for real, not just fantasizing about it.
—★°•☆
being the duke meant wriothesley had a lot of responsibilities and he always fulfilled them accordingly but sometimes he was tired of it, spending so many nights here without seeing his pretty angel was unbearable. he missed having you in his arms, your small body pressed against his much bigger one—not to mention having you bent over his desk while he fucked you from behind, squeezing your tits while he rubbed tight circles on your swollen clit. the way you'd always tremble and cry tears of pleasure at him being so big and mean...archons, his cock is already rock hard at the thought of having your little pussy around his length. he is quick to free his cock from his pants, teasing the slit and stroking himself as he imagined everything he'd to you when he and you finally met again. "f-fuck...gonna breed you s' much when i see you...fuck you till you can't think about anything except this dick." he growled as he looked down at his erection, letting out a groan as he reached his climax.
—☆°○★
the ever so stoic and composed alhaitham never thought he'd feel this way, he wasn't the type to be affected by such things yet he couldn't seem to stop finding himself drift his thoughts onto you, he's preoccupied with a big project and the akademiya has only gotten more hectic, so his work hours have increased which is why you two didn't have any time together. when he came home, he felt exhausted but he was so sexually pent up and his cock was already dripping pre-cum. he tried ignoring it but couldn't, so he caved in—calculative as usual, alhaitham knew you had left a pair of panties at his place, it was bad habit of yours to leave your belongings at his house, he'd surely scold you before but now he was glad that you were so careless. sitting himself down he wrapped your panties around his cock, thinking of you and getting off on your smell. the panties did little to soothe his ache for your warm cunt but he'd have to do with what he had. "miss you...miss you so much...wish it was your pussy instead of your panties," he let out little pants alongside groans, his breathing heavy and warm as he came on your underwear.
—★•°☆
who would have thought that the former sixth of the fatui harbingers, the ever so arrogant and prideful, scaramouche, would have such vulgar lewd and dirty fantasies of you, his lover while you're away in another nation. he certainly would never tell you how badly he wants you when you're away, he thinks it's humiliating but doesn't care when he knows you probably feel the same way, when you get back, he will make up for having you not be there for him to fuck and ravage as his possession. his cock hardens at the thought of having you submit to him, cry and lay there helpless as you take what he gives you. even as he pumped his hard erection, his focus went over to you—how would you react if you were here? would you get aroused to see him jerking off so shamelessly? "s-shit...shit, close," he let out a needy whine as his cum spurted out, scaramouche felt better but it wasn't nowhere near as enough, "haa...if only you were here, my pretty and obedient slut..." he sighed as he closed his eyes, thinking of you and when you will be back, hopefully soon because he cannot handle not having you there to relieve his needs.
#genshin smut#neuvillette smut#genshin impact imagine#wriothesley smut#genshin x reader#wanderer smut#scaramouche smut#alhaitham smut#alhaitham x reader#wriothesley x reader#genshin impact smut#genshin x you#genshin imagines
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disgraceful dreams
→ Summary: After two years of lustful pining and disgraceful dreams about someone far out of your reach, you decide the only way to move past your hopeless crush on Onyx Academy's star student is by taking part in the Lupercalia festival for the very first time.
↠ wooyoung x f.reader (feat. yeosang) | 16.4k words | 18+ ↠ genre: witch/warlock au, smut, virgin!reader, inspired by s2e3 of caos, slowburn
→ Full Fic Warnings: little bit of social class discrimination, cult-ish behavior (mentions of blood, Y/N uses a knife to cut her hand for binding/ritual purposes), being ‘hunted’ like prey, explicit sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, pet names, praise kink, biting, nipple play, breast play, begging, fingering, mutual masturbation, oral (female and male receiving), exhibitionism, voyeurism, partial agoraphilia & semi-public sex, dirty talk, heavy teasing, spanking, multiple orgasms, grinding, deep dicking, size kink (wooyoung is HUNGGG), magical sex, fucking up against a tree, slight age gap (y/n is 20 and wooyoung is 25), slight corruption, choking, possessive!wooyoung, woo is ravenous for you (you’re welcome)
→ Networks: tagged below
@ksmutsociety @k-vanity @pirateeznet @cromernet
@illusionnet @othersideoutlawsnetwork @cultofdionysusnet
→ Author Note: edited by the lovely aeris @beomcoups whom i appreciate so SO much for tackling this beast of a fic ILY! And also to ally @lovetaroandtaemin for reading this over for me!!! this doesn’t follow the exact lupercalia process, i’ve twisted it to work for my fic and based it around halloween instead of valenbarf day lol, if you'd prefer to read on ao3, it's been crossposted here!! all likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated <3
‘This can’t be real.’
Jung Wooyoung casts a dark look upon you while taking in your ethereal, naked form before him. The flames of the common room’s fireplace dance in his eyes, reflecting his sinister and most impure thoughts. Thoughts of you, what he wants to do to you. With you.
‘I must be dreaming.’
He circles around you, hovering over your backside and letting his hands fall to your bare hips. His touch leaves a trail of goosebumps across your skin.
“Mmm, can I touch you?” Wooyoung whispers as he leans in to kiss the dip between your shoulder and neck.
You nod, giving him permission to do whatever he pleases, and lean back against his broad chest.
His hands move from your side, one moving upward to cup your breast, the other heading down between your legs, gently tracing your silky skin until his fingers find their way home and sink into your sweet center.
The sensation awakens you from your sinful slumber, and you sigh, realizing it was only a dream—another delicious and depriving dream that left you wanting someone who would never consider you.
Groaning, you force yourself to roll out of bed and step toward your closet. Black Mass isn’t for another hour, but arriving early might help erase these recurring dreams from your memory.
Your footsteps echo in the empty hall as you exit the residential wing, making your way outside. It’s a beautiful gloomy day, the air is crisp and the sun is hidden by thick clouds that look as if they could open up at any moment and soak the woods with another harsh day of rain - something you wouldn’t mind.
The fog creeps through the forest, following your steps and trailing behind while you wait for your familiar to catch up. Besides your raven’s distant cry, it’s quiet. The hum of the earth’s magic is even more reserved than usual. It’s peacefully eerie.
“Ghoul Morning, Blair,” you say, extending your wrist out for her. She caws from above and slowly descends from the clouds, eagerly accepting your arm as the safe place to perch while you walk along the path to the Unholy Church.
Though she looks like a raven while masked, Blair wreaks havoc in her goblin form on anyone, and anything, that dares to disturb you. She’s one of the strongest familiars a witch could be cursed with, and you’ve been thankful for her services ever since you started training.
It’s your second year attending The Onyx Academy of Dark Casting, a magical finishing school that only the finest witches and warlocks between the ages of nineteen and twenty-five are given the unholiest privilege to attend.
Of these students, the Dark Stars of each class lead with their high values and spectacular spell casting. More often than not, they graduate with the highest dishonor and ascend to become High Priests and Priestesses of covens across the world.
Jung Wooyoung is a beloved Dark Star and stellar student, and it’s rumored that he’ll become the youngest Anti-Pope inducted into the Church of Night after his completion here at the academy.
Even with your unique gift, it’s not in the cards for a person of your status to ever equal his. Which you very well know and understand, despite the dark fantasies that haunt you most nights and your schoolgirl crush that hasn’t gone away since the very first day you met him.
Blair lets out a sharp caw, her wings cutting through the air as she ascends, perching gracefully on the steeple just as you arrive at the church. Her dark silhouette stands stark against the sky, watching over you like a silent sentinel.
The towering doors creak open as you approach them, welcoming you inside the dim space. You walk between the rows of pews, watching the candles that mark the aisle light up as you pass.
Once closer to the altar, you lift a hand and wave it across the front of the sanctuary. The room becomes brighter as the remaining unlit candles grow flames from your magic.
You have a way with the elements; you’re able to manipulate and control them as you wish without specific spells, conjuring them when you please. Your energy is unmatched compared to the other gifted students.
Yet, instead of improving your social status, being gifted has made you even more of an outcast. The professors are wary of your potential and what you could be capable of; the students keep their distance too, either jealous or frightened of your power.
Needless to say, you’re not Miss Popular, but that doesn’t bother you as much as it could. Only the luckiest of witches and warlocks are disgraced with gifts from the Dark Lord, and having chosen you out of everyone means something. And knowing the Dark Lord chose you is enough.
You settle into your usual pew, the familiar creak of the wooden bench under you blending into the background as your mind begins to churn. Thoughts swirl of today’s impending announcement during Father Blackmoor’s sermon cross your mind.
The excitement for Lupercalia is beginning to build. This ancient festival, celebrated by all magic wielders the week leading up to Halloween, is dedicated to the Goddess Peralia, who blesses covens with enhanced health, virility, and fertility in exchange for an indelicate offering. Participants must engage in a series of ritualistic events celebrating lust and sexuality, transforming the festival into a vibrant expression of desire and intimacy. Only then will she offer her unholiest blessing.
You sit there, not in prayer, but in a quiet storm of contemplation, unsure if you will sign up for the festival this year. Another downfall to being viewed as an outsider is that you have yet to experience, well, anything. Sure, you might have kissed a couple of warlocks in your intermediate years, you even had a boyfriend in prep school whom you were convinced you could have loved eventually, but your virtue has yet to be given away.
It’s common for witches and warlocks to lose their virginity during Lupercalia; typically when they are in prep school. In fact, it’s encouraged. Yet, by age twenty, you still haven't mustered the courage to join in the festivities.
This year might be different…
The sudden crash of books jolts you from your thoughts. You turn to see Yeosang, a fellow student, crouched beside a toppled stack of The Book of Blood, its pages splayed open.
“My apologies; I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he says, a hint of embarrassment in his voice as he scrambles to gather the scattered volumes. His cheeks flush slightly, and you can't help but smile softly.
He’s a sixth-year student, just like Wooyoung. Yet, where Wooyoung’s presence demands your attention with an almost suffocating charisma, Yeosang embodies a more reserved demeanor. He tends to stick to his tight-knit group of friends and immerses himself in his studies, radiating a quiet intensity that draws you in without overwhelming you.
You feel a wave of annoyance wash over you as soon you realize that even in the presence of another man, your thoughts keep drifting back to Wooyoung. It frustrates you to no end, pushing you to a spontaneous decision: this year will finally be the year you break free from this obsession. By participating in Lupercalia, you’re determined to finally move on from him once and for all.
“Don’t worry about it,” you reply, “The Dark Lord has already provided me with the clarity I came here for.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he says, carefully restacking the last book. He glances to his left, likely considering the seat he usually occupies, before turning back to you. “Would you mind if I joined you?” he asks, a hopeful note in his voice as he gestures toward the space beside you.
“Not at all, please do,” you smile.
He settles beside you with an effortless grace, and the air around you immediately fills with the warm, intoxicating blend of amber and musk from his cologne. The scent is rich, almost magnetic, pulling your attention in ways you hadn’t anticipated. You fidget with your hands, trying to focus on anything but how good he smells, as your mind races to keep pace with your quickening heartbeat.
Maybe... you could partner with Yeosang for the festival. The thought lingers as you steal a glance at him from the corner of your eye. He’s undeniably handsome—sharp features that give him a striking, confident look, but it’s his kindness that really stands out. There’s a warmth in the way he carries himself, a subtle softness behind those strong eyes that makes him more than just attractive. You wonder what it would be like to lose your virginity to someone like him, someone who seems both strong and thoughtful in all the right ways.
"Are you sure you are okay? You seem a little tense," he asks, his voice laced with genuine concern as his eyes search your face. You hesitate to answer, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks, and though you're trying to keep your composure, your breath has grown a little quicker, more shallow.
Thankfully, he’s kind enough not to mention it, but you catch the flicker of awareness in his gaze. His words are gentle, but there's an underlying curiosity there—like he's not just asking out of politeness but because he genuinely cares. You try to steady yourself, aware of the closeness between you, and suddenly the air feels heavier as if the moment itself is holding its breath, waiting for your next move.
"I didn’t mean to pry if it’s personal," he quickly adds, his voice softening as he notices your hesitation. His words have a touch of urgency, and he backtracks, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. His shifts slightly, giving you space while still holding onto the moment, unsure whether to push further or retreat.
"Can I tell you a secret?" The words escape your lips before you even realize what you’ve said. For a moment, you freeze, caught off guard by your sudden vulnerability. His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but there’s no turning back now.
Yeosang nods and softly says, “Of course.”
“I’ve…never participated in Lupercalia,” you admit guardedly.
“Oh, um. That’s, uh…” He’s visibly taken aback when he hears your confession, stumbling over his words. “Wow, I… I wasn’t expecting that.”
He shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, uh, that’s really something. I just, uh… I guess I never saw you as someone who hadn’t, you know, participated.” He draws out the last word, his tone heavy with the unspoken meaning.
You nod, trying to meet his eyes. “I know, it’s just… I never felt called to join in on the festivities in previous years. But lately, that feeling has… changed.”
“Oh. Right, yeah, I get it. So you’ll be signing up for the events this year?” He asks with a calm, collected voice, though he’s concerned that the quickened rhythm of his heartbeat betrays his calm facade.
Hearing your confession piques his interest. He’s always found you hauntingly beautiful and has enjoyed the casual conversations you’ve shared between classes and such, but today feels different.
He knew you didn’t actively participate last year, though he figured you were still doing something-someone-in private. Now that your secret is out, there's something undeniably more intriguing about you—an unexpected allure that wasn’t there before.
“Yeah, I’m thinking about it.”
“I think you should,” he blurts out, then quickly adds, “What I mean is, the festival’s about self-expression and the intimacy you share along the way. If you’re looking for a wild introduction to Lupercalia, there will be plenty of opportunists who share that venereal vision. But if you want something more comforting…choose someone who makes you feel safe and respected for your first time.” Yeosang trails off, his gaze lingering a little too long, the implication unmistakable. He clears his throat, trying not to give himself and his intentions away.
“Thank you, Yeosang,” you say while resting a hand above his knee, genuinely appreciating his insight.
Before the conversation can continue, the sound of footsteps echoes through the Church as fellow students file in, taking their seats. Black Mass is about to begin.
Wooyoung hadn’t intended to listen in on your conversation. He was too busy waiting for the other Dark Stars to arrive at the closed-off sanctuary to finish preparing for Black Mass. As usual, they didn’t show up early despite his suggestions. That’s a lie; he knew his words were less like suggestions and more like demands.
He was well aware they’d be late today, especially since most of the fifth and sixth years had spent the night at an intimate pre-Lupercalia party that stretched into dawn.
The only reason he peeked through the shadows was due to a loud crash, which he soon realized came from Yeosang, who appeared entranced by someone sitting near the front of the Church. That’s when he noticed it was you.
He’ll admit to having observed you over the past year—not out of personal interest, but because he’s intrigued by your unique gift and curious as to why the Dark Lord chose you of all people. Yes, you’re undeniably attractive as most witches are, but your ability to manipulate pure power without relying on spellwork is, to him, the most compelling quality you possess. If you had the right social standing, you would likely ascend to the role of High Priestess in a very fortunate coven.
From his hidden vantage point, he watches as his friend settles down beside you; that’s when the conversation begins.
“I’ve…never participated in Lupercalia,” he hears you share your secret. Now that is quite a confession.
Wooyoung’s lips curl into a smirk as he observes your flushed face from a distance, the rosy hue contrasting with the cold room that surrounds you. There’s a spark of mischief in his eyes as he takes in the way you shift nervously, completely unaware of his gaze.
Knowing that you haven’t been touched stirs a mix of amusement and curiosity within him. He wonders what thoughts are racing through your mind, feeling a strange sensation rush through him when you place your hand on his classmate’s thigh.
He saw no reason to hold back from participating. The moment he came of age, he dove in—and he’s done so every year since, always finding ways to revel in the experience to the fullest. As he reflects on past encounters, a pleased smile crosses his face as he silently counts the number of popped cherries he’s collected over the last several seasons, each a vivid memory weaved into his mind.
‘What’s one more…’
As more students trickle in and take their seats, the soft murmur of conversation fills the air. Wooyoung senses the moment is right and slips out of the shadows just as Father Blackmoor begins to walk down the aisle, weaving between the pews filled with eager faces. The flickering candlelight dances on the stone walls, casting a warm glow that contrasts with the coolness of the sanctuary.
He moves to stand on the left of Father Blackmoor, joining the other Dark Stars who are trying to stifle their yawns. The collective fatigue from the previous night’s festivities hangs in the air, but a shared excitement simmers beneath the surface. He exchanges brief glances with his fellow Stars, a silent acknowledgment of their late-night revelry and the anticipation of what today’s ceremony will bring.
“Fiends and Friends, today marks the beginning of our annual Lupercalia Festival,” Father Blackmoor announces, his voice resonating through the crammed Church. “As you all know, Lupercalia is upon us. I can feel the excitement buzzing in the air. The Festival of Wolves is a cherished tradition within our coven, and we take immense pride in honoring Goddess Peralia through a series of exhilarating rituals, all in hopes of receiving her unholiest blessings. With that in mind, let’s review the week’s events for those of you who are new to our practices.”
Father Blackmoor pauses to take an envelope from Wooyoung. “Tomorrow marks the start of the Assessment Period, which will be held in the Grand Hall. Witches who sign up today will be quizzed by prospective partners in hopes of finding their ideal match.”
“Courting begins on Tuesday. Those interested in a specific witch will reserve time slots to spend more time together. By the end of the night, the warlocks must submit the names of the witches they wish to be paired with. This will be followed by the Matching Ceremony on Wednesday, where the pairs will be revealed to the entire coven. On Thursday, we’ll have the Moon Ritual, during which the paired couples will venture into the darkwood to complete the rite. More specific details will be shared on the day, but they are expected to spend the night together beneath the moon in unholy abstinence.”
Some students snicker, knowing very well they won’t be abstaining from anything that night.
Father Blackmoor waits for the room to settle down before continuing, “Friday ushers in the Insatiable Hunt at dusk, where wolf-masked warlocks will chase after their red-cloaked witches through the woods, culminating in divine pleasure once they’ve been caught. We’ll conclude the week of festivities on Saturday with the Final Feast, where we will express our gratitude to Goddess Peralia for her many blessings this season.”
Wooyoung steps forward once more, this time carrying an ancient, leather-bound tome. The worn edges and faded lettering hint at its age and significance.
It’s the Book of Blood; which contains hundreds of Witches and Warlock's printed names, signed with their crimson ink, as a binding commitment to their word. It’s like a contract between yourself, the entire coven, and the Dark Lord himself.
With a practiced hand, he carefully cracks it open, his eyes sweeping across the room. “Witches that dare to participate, please step forward, say your intent, and sign your name in the Book of Blood.”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you push yourself to your feet, joining the line of participants ahead of you. A mix of excitement and nerves swirl in your stomach, each step bringing you closer to the moment you've been both dreading and anticipating.
The weight of curious eyes fall on you as you move, but none more intense than Yeosang's. His gaze feels like a spotlight, cutting through the crowd around him.
With each passing second, your pulse quickens as the line inches forward at a deathly slow pace. Every breath feels shallow, as if the air is too thick for your lungs to handle. Despite the knot of nerves tightening in your belly, your feet move on their own, as if guided by some force beyond your control.
Before you even realize it, you’re standing before Wooyoung. His eyes pierce down onto you while he hands you a knife, “Do you hereby pledge your full participation and commitment to the forthcoming Lupercalia festival and all associated events?”
Taking a deep breath, you respond, “Yes, I pledge myself.”
You take the knife from him, feeling the cold steel as you press the sharp blade into your palm. With a swift motion, you slice a clean, precise line across your skin. Ruby-red blood wells up, pooling in your cupped hand. Without hesitation, Father Blackmoor raises his hand, his dark magic swirling in the air as he draws the blood from your palm. It twists and shapes into the form of a pen, glowing faintly with a sinister aura, ready to be used.
You reach up and grasp the hovering pen, its energy vibrating through your hand. As you sign your name in the book, a surge of adrenaline floods your veins, electrifying every nerve. The moment the ink dries, you feel an undeniable shift. Something deep within you has been awakened.
Wooyoung smirks, knowing the sensation very well. “There’s no backing out now,” he says to you, his gaze locking onto yours, sharp and unrelenting.
“So,” Jongho, a second-year student like yourself, pauses to clear his throat after pulling on his tie, “That was awful.”
You chuckle, relieved to see you're not the only one with frayed nerves. “Yeah, good luck with the rest of them.”
He smiles back before shuffling along to the next person.
It’s Assessment Day, and every witch who signed their name is being rigorously questioned by the participating warlocks. Friends who had gone through this in previous years warned you about what to expect, and they were right. It’s definitely a forced mingling period on steroids.
It’s only been an hour, and you’re already exhausted of the routine of answering questions filled with probing and uncomfortable inquiries that delve into personal preferences. Over and over again, you're forced to confront touchy subjects, as if each question is designed to peel away the layers of your desires, as if you know.
The process feels more like an interrogation than a mere assessment, testing not just your patience, but your lack of knowledge on the subject at hand—sex.
The situation would be far less awkward if you didn't have to sit directly across from someone to verbally review the list. After each question, it’s mandatory to respond in one of the following ways: Agree - you give consent to the matter being discussed with the current party; Acknowledge - it is a potential option, and you give partial consent or Decline - no consent is given.
You pick at your fingernails while you wait for the next warlock.
“Penny dreadful for your thoughts?” You glance up to see Yeosang sliding into the seat across from you, with a broad smile spread across his handsome face.
“Oh, hi!” you say, doing your best to not sound startled. “Just wondering when all of this will be over, you know?” you continue, waving your arms around.
“Yeah, this part of the process isn’t the most comfortable. But I understand why it’s necessary,” he comments while leaning forward on the table. “Have the others been respectful?”
“Oh, yes. Yeah, everyone has been nice. I’m learning how many students I’ve never spoken to before,” you reply lightheartedly.
"Shall we begin?" Yeosang asks with a playful glint in his eyes, nodding toward the paper resting between you on the table, waiting for your cue to dive in.
Just as he reaches to pick up the list of desires to discuss, his movement is halted by the sudden arrival of Wooyoung, whose presence instantly commands attention.
He strides up to your table with his usual confidence, a grin tugging at his lips. The conversation shifts before it even begins, as Wooyoung’s energy pulls both your attention toward him without saying a word.
Yeosang lowers the paper, his eyes flicking between you and Wooyoung, sensing the inevitable distraction.
“Father Blackmoor has requested your presence in the Anti-Sacristy,” Wooyoung announces, handing him a miniature scroll with a secret message.
Yeosang frowns while reading it over, “Please excuse me.”
"Of course, I hope everything's alright," you murmur, though your words go unheard as he's already on his feet, moving swiftly toward the door.
Watching Yeosang rush out, you suddenly realize Wooyoung is still standing there. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, and he tilts his head, studying you with a curious intensity.
"Seems like you require a partner," he says with a smirk, sliding effortlessly into Yeosang’s chair without missing a beat.
You’re too stunned to respond and shift uncomfortably in your seat, completely unsure of what to do in this situation. He’s not offering to go through the questionnaire, is he?
Somehow, you forgot that you would, at some point, have to converse with Wooyoung today. It entirely slipped your mind up until this moment. And now he’s here without giving you time to prepare. You start to breathe a little heavier, and a slight sense of panic sets in.
“Why are you acting like that?” He says with a raised eyebrow, noticing your bouncing leg (a nervous habit of yours that annoyingly shows up at the worst possible moments.)
“I’m not sure what you mean?” Well, yes, you do but you won’t admit that. But your hyperventilating and antsy body might tell a different story.
“Yeah, right,” he rolls his eyes.
Your eyes lock on Wooyoung’s as he casually picks up the page. Without waiting for your reaction, he glances at the list and reads off the first item, his voice smooth and confident.
"How does each party feel about blood play; drawing blood by use of knives or other sharp weaponry, smearing blood, using blood as a lubricant, and/or tasting blood?" he reads off, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he waits for your response.
"I acknowledge," you reply with hesitation in your voice, uncertain whether you’re truly opposed to it, yet not entirely sure if you fully consent either. “And you?”
Wooyoung tilts his head again, “Do you really need to ask?”
"You and I both know there are specific rules to follow here," you say, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed, eyes fixed on him with a mixture of challenge and caution. And, if you’re being completely honest, there’s a hint of annoyance now too. The nervousness from earlier has vanished entirely.
“Fair enough,” "he replies with a nonchalant sigh, “I agree.”
It’s your turn to read off the next item. “Does each participating student consent to bringing in other parties to join and/or watch your sexual relations? And additionally, joining others.” You look up toward Wooyoung, already expecting him to agree to those terms.
“Decline,” he states firmly, his voice dropping an octave as he adds, “I don’t share.”
You try to mask your shock, but the expression slips through.
“Don’t look so surprised,” he huffs.
“Sorry,” you mumble, “I also decline.”
He nods curtly, and you swear you hear him mutter "good" under his breath.
You breeze through the next set of questions surprisingly fast, both providing the appropriate answers as you work your way down the page.
At first, Wooyoung seemed a bit disinterested, but something caused his attitude to shift. Now, he’s more engaged, genuinely listening to your reasonings whenever you offer it.
“Last question, how many sexual partners have each participating party had?”
As he finishes speaking, you narrow your eyes at him, “That question isn’t on the list.” You’ve practically memorized them all by now. “You’re making that up.”
“So? Answer anyway,” he dares.
You glare at him, silently debating whether or not you should tell the truth. “Screw it,” you exhale, “None.”
Instead of the shock or teasing you expect, he simply blinks at you, as if he already knew what your answer would be.
But how…
When you wake the next morning, butterflies are already fluttering in your stomach. At this point, it’s hard to judge who will end up courting you, though you have a pretty good idea that Yeosang is interested. When he returned after visiting Father Blackmoor, you two had quite a connection while going through the assessment list.
You’ll find out for sure when you make it to the Dining Hall the courting schedule will be pinned on the announcement board for everyone to view.
You decide to grab a pastry and wait for the crowd around the schedule to thin out before checking how many dates you will have today. To keep things relatively fair, each witch is only allowed to have up to five courting suitors. A flicker of nerves sets in—what if no one reserved one of your time slots?
For the love of Lucifer, please let me have at least one warlock courting me.
You shove the last bite into your mouth and make your way to the board, eager to find out. Peeking around the remaining heads blocking your view, you spot that two of your time slots have already been reserved. Just as you’re trying to make out the names, someone taps you on the shoulder.
“Ghoul morning, Y/N,” Yeosang says with a smile, handing you a card. Your heartbeat picks up, recognizing the formality; courting warlocks are required to provide the witches with a card that essentially confirms their date.
“Hi, Yeosang!” You beam. Praise Satan.
He looks relieved when you accept his card. “I was hoping to see you this morning. Meet me at the Weeping Willow at three o’clock this afternoon. I have a special activity planned for us.”
You’re about to respond when you can feel his presence. Turning to look over your shoulder, you see Wooyoung standing closely behind. He towers over you, staring down Yeosang.
“Do you need something?” you ask, bringing his attention back to you while silently begging that he’s not here to send Yeosang away again, like yesterday.
“Yes,” he extends a hand, offering you a card. You stare at it in disbelief. He’s not here to steal Yeosang; he’s stealing you.
Wooyoung is your other suitor.
“I believe you’re meant to spend the morning with me.” Wooyoung’s eyes drift from yours and back to Yeosang’s, who tenses beside you. They seem to have a silent exchange of words.
“I see,” Yeosang says curtly, “Enjoy your time together.”
Before you have a chance to say anything Yeosang already disappears. Damn it.
“Come on, follow me,” Wooyoung demands while grabbing your wrist. He leads you down the dim, shadowy hallways of the school before picking up the pace as you leave the safety of the school, heading into the woods.
The thick trees close in around you, and the air feels heavier with each step. Fog swirls at your feet but mysteriously clears a path ahead of him like it knows exactly where he's going. You follow, feeling the cool, damp air cling to your skin. The deeper you go, the more unfamiliar the landscape becomes—you don’t recognize this part of the woods at all, and a strange sense of unease settles over you.
“Bloody heaven, where are you taking me?” you huff, doing your best to keep up with his long strides.
“You’ll see,” he grumbles, helping you up when you trip over an exposed tree root. “Can you stop tripping every five seconds? You’re slowing us down, and we’re on a time crunch.”
You glare at the back of his head as he speeds up. What a dick.
It’s not long before you arrive at the destination; it’s a stone table in the middle of the woods. You look around suspiciously. “Is this a ritual site? Are you planning on killing me for some weird sacrificial thing now that you know I’m a virgin, or…?”
Wooyoung bursts out laughing, “The thought hadn’t crossed my mind, actually. This is a portal.”
“A portal? To where?” you ask, peering at the stone. It doesn’t look like any portal you’ve ever seen.
“Want to find out?” he offers a hand for you to take, and you grab it warily.
He places his other hand on the stone, and its magic instantly pulls you through the atmosphere, sending you spiraling toward an unknown destination.
When you land, your feet hit the damp cobblestone street with a soft thud. The air smells of rain and baked goods, and you take in the bustling scene around you—witches and warlocks are flowing in and out of quaint little shops that line both sides of the road, their chatter filling the air. The street is alive with energy, and everything looks both foreign and strangely charming.
Before you can fully absorb it all, Wooyoung tugs you along, his grip firm as your head swivels, trying to figure out exactly where you’ve been transported to. The unfamiliar cityscape seems like a dream, its details slipping through your grasp as you hurry to keep up.
Suddenly, you collide with his back, not realizing he has stopped. "Ouch," you mutter, rubbing your nose in surprise. You’re about to say more when something above catches your eye—the sign swinging in the breeze.
"Trahana’s Tomb!" you squeal, excitement bubbling up. For ages, you've wanted to visit this place, but something always got in the way. Now, here it is, right in front of you, and the thrill of finally arriving sends a rush through you.
Trahana is a renowned sorceress and writer known for her vast collection of grimoires, enchanted artifacts, and other rare occult items—many of which are now on display and for sale at her legendary store. You've been itching to get your hands on her coveted Book of Arcane Beasts, a tome filled with forbidden knowledge of magical creatures, their histories, and untold powers.
Wooyoung holds the door open for you, and without a second thought, you dash inside. Your eyes widen as you take in the towering shelves crammed with both ancient and new books. Every corner of the shop is overflowing with enchanted curiosities.
At the back of the shop, a narrow, spiraling staircase catches your eye. It likely leads to an upper level filled with even more treasures waiting to be explored. The thought of what might be hidden beyond tempts you, adding to the growing sense of wonder.
"Oh, my sweet, evil boy! How are you?"
You turn to see a tall, elegant woman pinching Wooyoung’s cheeks with an affectionate grin.
He swats her hands away, groaning, "Aunt Hana, you know I hate when you do that. I’m not five anymore."
She laughs, unbothered by his protest. "Oh, you'll always be the stubborn young warlock playing with the Acheron Configuration upstairs even when told it was off limits," she teases, her eyes twinkling with the memory. “Goddess knows how many hours you spent trying to crack that spell.”
She shifts her gaze to you, giving you a quick once-over before raising an eyebrow. "Don’t be rude, Wooyoung. Introduce me to your friend."
Wooyoung rolls his eyes, "Forgive me. This is Y/N, another student at Onyx Academy. Y/N, meet Trahana, the curator of this fine establishment and, unfortunately, my insufferable aunt."
Trahana smirks, ignoring his jab. "Charmed, I’m sure," she says, her eyes glinting with curiosity as she sizes you up.
"I need to get back to work, but it was a pleasure meeting you, darling," Trahana says with a warm smile, her voice dripping with a mix of elegance and mystery. She gives you one last appraising look before turning away, her long robes sweeping the floor as she glides effortlessly toward the front of the store. The air feels lighter without her presence, yet the sense of power she carries lingers, leaving you a little awestruck.
You gape at him once she’s out of earshot. "She’s your aunt?"
Wooyoung sighs, nodding with exaggerated patience. "Yes, I’m painfully aware."
"That’s so cool. So you spent a lot of time here growing up?" you ask, curious to learn more about him.
"Yeah," Wooyoung replies, glancing around the shop with a hint of nostalgia. "My parents traveled a lot for business when I was younger, so this place became like a second home. Now, I come back whenever I need a break from school. Plus, it’s a great place to study; there's something peaceful about the chaos here compared to the eerie silence of Onyx Academy’s library."
"That makes sense," you say, nodding as your fingers trail across the spines of the old books lining the tight aisle. The dust, the energy, and the soft hum of magic in the air make the shop feel alive, the perfect contrast to the academy’s cold, quiet halls. "I can see why you'd find this place comforting."
Wooyoung smiles, clearly more relaxed here than you've ever seen him. "It’s got a strange kind of charm, doesn’t it?" he says, his voice softer now as the two of you meander through the maze of shelves, discovering little pieces of history with every step.
He allows you to explore the shelves, letting you dive into the books that capture your interest. As you lean down to examine the aged pages, he watches as a loose strand of hair slips across your face, and you absently tuck it behind your ear.
"Can I show you something?" he asks, gently drawing you away from the book that’s captivated your attention.
You glance up at him, and to your surprise, he almost seems nervous. It’s a rare sight for someone who usually exudes such confidence. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, making you curious about what he wants to show you.
Nodding, you allow him to lead you toward another bookshelf two aisles away from where you were just standing. His gaze flicks across the titles, searching for something specific.
"Ah, here it is," he finally says, lifting his arm to reveal a book with a deep blue spine. You hear a soft click as he pulls it out slightly, followed by a faint unlocking sound. With a practiced motion, he shifts down to another shelf and pulls out a book with a green spine. To your astonishment, the entire bookcase creaks ominously before revealing a secret door.
"This whole day just keeps getting stranger by the minute. Is this another portal?" you ask, a mix of skepticism and humor in your voice.
Wooyoung grins playfully. "As entertaining as that would be, no. It’s not a portal. It’s my secret place."
You turn to look at him. "See, now that’s kind of worse. Now I really don’t want to go in." The idea of stepping into his hidden sanctuary feels more daunting than the prospect of another magical journey.
He gives you a look.
“Okay, fine. In I go,” you say, taking a step closer before reaching for the cold handle. As you turn it and push the door open, you peer into the darkness beyond, straining to gauge what lies within. And, if you have to be completely honest, wondering why it needs to be hidden away.
Wooyoung steps inside after you, snapping his fingers to conjure his magic. A bright orb of light flickers to life, glowing softly at first. As he guides it upward, it gradually brightens and rises to the center of the room, illuminating the hidden space with a warm, inviting glow. The walls are revealed and adorned with eclectic decorations and mysterious photographs, creating an enchanting and haunting atmosphere.
"What is this place?" you ask, your curiosity piqued as you step closer to a nearby table and spot a stack of photographs. You pick up the first few, admiring the artistic shots of a plant you recognize from your walks through the Darkwood—it's a Moonset Fern, captured in full bloom. You remember learning about it in Herbology 101 last year; it’s renowned for its ability to protect against ill-will spells.
Intrigued, you skim through the rest of the stack. Each photo showcases different plants, all with potent herbal properties, their images so carefully composed they almost seem to pulse with hidden power.
“So,” Wooyoung says nervously, “What do you think?”
“Of the photographs? I think they’re beautiful. You took these?” He nods. “I didn’t know you had an interest in photography. Or Herbology, for that matter.”
"It’s a secret interest. Obviously," Wooyoung says, gesturing around the room to emphasize his point. "Unfortunately, Father Blackmoor thinks it’s a complete waste of time. To him, this is the work of a lesser warlock." The distaste is evident in his voice, like the words themselves leave a bitter taste in his mouth. "He’d rather I focus on proving my potential to become the youngest Anti-Pope."
"Do you believe him?" you ask, watching his reaction closely.
"Am I even allowed to believe any different?" he replies, his tone a mix of resignation and defiance. He picks up a different stack of photos and flips through them, each holding a distant memory of a time he felt genuine joy.
"Part of me wishes I wasn’t destined for this life—that I had the power to shape my own future," Wooyoung admits, his voice heavy with conflicted emotion. "But then the other half of me hates myself for even thinking like that, especially after everything my family has sacrificed to get me here." His gaze drops, the weight of expectation clearly pressing down on him, caught between desire and duty.
“No one in the history of The Church of Night has ever turned down a position of power once they've received the proper training and hold the necessary status,” he continues, his tone growing darker. "I can’t even imagine the consequences of rejecting something like that." The mere thought seems to weigh on him, defying centuries of tradition would unravel everything—not just for him, but for everyone tied to his legacy.
“That’s a frustrating position to be forced into. Though, I hate to admit I’m jealous.”
His head snaps up, eyes locking onto yours, confusion and a flicker of anger etched across his face.
"I’ve spent my whole life not knowing what my future will look like," you begin, your voice tight with emotion. “I have all this power, yet no one can explain why I have it or what I’m supposed to do with it. I don’t have even the slightest clue where I’ll end up in life, so yeah, from that standpoint, I am a bit jealous of your situation," you admit, a hint of envy creeping into your voice.
As you speak, the anger in his expression gradually fades, replaced by a quiet understanding. His features soften, and you can see him truly considering your words, letting them sink in.
"At least you have a clear path laid out for you, even if it’s not exactly what you want. I’m still stumbling around, trying to figure out what my purpose even is. But even then..." your tone softens slightly, "If I were you, I wouldn’t let my sense of duty smother the passion I feel for another study—even if it’s an uncommon path for someone in my position.”
You begin again, your voice steady with conviction, "The Dark Lord wouldn’t have put this path in front of you if there wasn’t something here worth discovering. I’d bet there’s a connection between each path, and maybe, just maybe, you’re meant to do something with both. Something no one else has thought of yet.”
Wooyoung hadn’t thought of that.
“That’s just my two cents,” you sigh, setting the photos down and walking over to the next table with hundreds more to look through.
One photo in the middle of the pile catches your eye, standing out in a way the others don’t. You can’t quite place the plant; it’s unfamiliar, yet stirs a sense of deep nostalgia. It’s a rich olive green, with spiny stems and sharply pointed leaves giving it a menacing look. But what truly captivates you is the ethereal purple aura surrounding it, shimmering faintly, like the plant itself is alive with ancient magic. Something about it feels important, though you can’t recall ever seeing it before.
"It’s a Ghost Violaceae," Wooyoung murmurs softly, leaning in close over your shoulder. His breath is warm against your ear as he speaks, his voice slightly raspy. "It’s commonly used in the art of seduction." His words hang in the air, as mysterious as the plant itself, and the subtle intensity in his tone makes the air between you suddenly feel different.
Wooyoung would do unspeakable things to know the thoughts swirling in your mind right now. He’s desperate to unravel what it is that made you blush so fiercely, what’s causing your heart to race and your breath to quicken.
You turn slightly, looking up at him with your lips parted. Wooyoung tilts his head, his eyes sparkling as he tries to decipher the emotions playing across your face. There's a flicker of curiosity in your gaze, his focus sharpening as he leans in just a fraction closer…
The sudden ringing of a timer blares through the silence, startling you both. Your head snaps toward the sound and you see a stopwatch floating in midair, its rhythmic ticking a clear reminder that your time is almost up. It’s time to return to Onyx Academy to prepare for your next session with Yeosang.
Beside you, Wooyoung tenses, the atmosphere immediately changing. The warmth in his eyes vanishes as quickly as it has surfaced, replaced by the cold, guarded demeanor he typically fronts. His walls shoot back up, and just like that, the brief vulnerability between you disappears.
Blair eyes you curiously, her black feathers ruffled while she senses the secret you’re holding back. She’s perched on a low branch, watching as you wait beneath the cascading limbs of the Weeping Willow. You’ve arrived early, not finding any solace in the silence of your room after returning to campus. Yeosang should be here any minute, but the unease from earlier lingers.
Wooyoung had barely spoken after the stopwatch appeared, his mood darkening as he grudgingly led you back to the portal. He rushed you through without a word, his steps heavy with frustration, and stormed off toward the church once back on school grounds without so much as a goodbye.
You’ve been trying to clear your mind, focusing your energy on the upcoming session with Yeosang, but the tension from Wooyoung still simmers under the surface. You take a deep breath, determined to push it aside and give Yeosang your full attention. He deserves it.
Blair lets out a sharp caw before taking off into the sky, disappearing into the distance as soon as she senses his presence. She knows to give you your privacy, leaving you alone just as he approaches.
“Oh, you’re here already,” Yeosang says, a bit surprised to see you already by the willows. He steps forward, his happy expression growing as he extends a bouquet of dried wine-colored roses, elegantly tied with a black ribbon.
“These are for you.”
Your breath catches at the sight of them. "These are gorgeous. Thank you—wow," you say, smiling while gently taking the bouquet from his hands. The gesture feels intimate, the deep red petals catching the light as you admire them, warmth blooming in your chest at the unexpected kindness.
“You’re welcome. Do you want to apparate them to your room?” Yeosang suggests.
“That’s a good idea, actually,” you reply, lifting the bouquet in front of you. With a soft hum, you recite the incantation, watching as the flowers shimmer and disappear, transporting them to your bedside table in an instant.
“There,” you smile, “Now they’ll be waiting for me when I get back.”
“We have a short walk to our destination. If you’ll follow me?” Yeosang guides you up a path behind the willow grove, the incline leading to a breathtaking view of the Darkwood below. The forest stretches endlessly, its shadowy canopy glittering with ancient magic.
"Do you mind waiting here?" he asks, rubbing the back of his neck, a hint of nerves flickering across his face. "I thought I'd have a little more time to set things up."
You smile softly. "I don’t mind at all."
Relieved, he excuses himself, disappearing back down the trail to retrieve whatever surprise he has planned. The minutes pass in peaceful quiet, the cool air brushing against your skin. You close your eyes, enjoying the moment, until a faint rustling behind you interrupts the calm energy. You glance over your shoulder, seeing nothing, and shrug it off—probably just the wind.
But then, movement at the edge of the tree line catches your eye, a shadowy figure slipping between the trees.
You step cautiously toward the movement, your heart beating a little faster with each quiet footstep. The air seems to thicken as you approach, a soft rustling continuing just beyond the nearest tree. You steady yourself, taking a slow breath before rounding the massive trunk.
Face to face with the culprit, you freeze—a pair of wide, curious eyes staring back at you. It's a small, ethereal creature, almost like a fox but with wisps of glowing mist trailing from its fur. Its translucent body shimmers faintly under the dappled light filtering through the trees.
You exhale in relief, it’s just another familiar. The creature’s gentle gaze is more inquisitive than threatening; and she tilts her head, trying to decide whether to flee or come closer, her silver eyes studying you with an almost childlike curiosity. The creature soon takes off, before you have a chance to ask who they belong to.
As you turn around, a startled cry escapes your lips—Wooyoung is standing just inches from you, his presence completely unexpected.
"What are you doing here?" you snap, your hand instinctively flying to your chest, trying to calm your racing heart.
"I'm not really here. Just astral projecting. And who’s to say I wasn’t here first?"
You cross your arms, glaring at him, clearly unimpressed.
"Okay, fine. Maybe I wasn’t here first," he concedes with a shrug, his smirk faltering under your withering stare.
"Yeosang is going to be back any second," you warn, narrowing your eyes. "Are you here to spy on us?"
"Pfff... no..." he says, though the lack of conviction in his voice makes you roll your eyes.
"Lame," you mutter, watching his poorly veiled attempt at denial fall apart. He shifts awkwardly under your gaze, clearly caught.
“I don’t like that you’re alone with him.”
“Why?”
“I told you already. I. Don’t. Share.”
“You can’t be serious,” you say, narrowing your eyes. “Is this just some kind of game? Are you playing with me because you don’t want Yeosang to have me? What is it, Wooyoung? You haven’t given me a second thought until two days ago.”
“It’s not like that—" Wooyoung starts, but the sound of rustling interrupts him, cutting his sentence short. Both of you turn, startled, as Yeosang emerges from the trees. His eyes sweep the clearing, looking for you since you aren’t standing where he left you. When he spots you, he smiles and approaches, carrying a woven basket in one arm and a blanket in the other.
You glance back toward Wooyoung, but he’s already vanished. Typical, slipping away before finishing what he started. Maybe he’s glad for the escape before you can grill him any further.
“Looking for something?”
‘More like someone,’ you think to yourself. “Oh sorry, I thought I saw a familiar, but it ran off,” you explain, brushing off the awkward moment. “So, what’s all this?” You gesture to the basket, quickly shifting the conversation before Yeosang has a chance to ask anything.
He grins, glancing down at his hands, a bit shy. "I hope you like picnics. I thought we could enjoy some treats and maybe get to know each other better."
“That sounds lovely,” you reply warmly.
Yeosang carefully picks a spot, spreading the blanket and the two of you sit side by side, the breathtaking view of the Darkwood stretching out below. There’s something serene about the quiet between you, the moment brimming with peaceful anticipation.
He sets the basket in front of you, lifting the lid to reveal an array of colorful sweets, the soft glow of the late afternoon sun reflecting off the glass jars inside. You notice delicate pastries, chocolates, and sugared fruits arranged neatly.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I brought a little of everything,” Yeosang says, his voice low but sincere.
Your heart warms at the gesture. "You’ve really outdone yourself,” you praise, picking up one of the pastries for yourself and offering another to him.
Curiosity gets the better of you, and you decide to bring up the scroll from yesterday. "I didn’t want to pry, but you left in such a rush yesterday. Was everything alright?" you ask before taking a bite.
Yeosang chuckles softly, as if amused by the memory. "Funny you should ask. Turns out, when I arrived at Father Blackmoor’s office, he had no idea what I was talking about. No urgent scroll was sent for me. But he thought it was good timing and wanted to discuss my plans for after I complete my time at the academy."
Your curiosity piques further. "And those plans are...?" you press, hoping he’ll open up.
Yeosang hesitates briefly, but then, with a slight smile, he reveals, "I’d like to teach, maybe. My father was a teacher, and he always said I had the same qualities. Plus, I love kids. I think teaching them the basics of magic—the very foundation of what they'll need for the rest of their lives—would be important work."
A soft breeze ruffles the edges of the blanket, and you can’t help but smile at his answer. "That sounds perfect for you. I can already picture you as a great mentor."
The rest of your evening with Yeosang flies by in a blur of conversation and quiet moments spent enjoying the view. Before you know it, he's walking you back to the dormitories. He hesitates as you both stop outside the door to the girls' dorms, clearly lingering on something unsaid.
"I just want you to know," he starts, shifting nervously, "that regardless of what happens tomorrow at the Matching Ceremony, I had a lovely time tonight. I'll see you tomorrow then."
Before you can respond, he leans down and presses a soft kiss on your cheek. "Goodnight, Y/N."
You barely manage to mumble a “goodnight” back, still caught in the trance from the warmth of his lips against your skin. As you make your way up to your room, your heart feels light, and you can’t help but smile even wider when you notice the flowers he gave you earlier—now arranged beautifully in a vase on your nightstand.
But something else catches your eye—a small, glimmering box sitting on your bed, illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight. You walk over to it and find a note attached in handwriting you immediately recognize.
Not a game to me – W
Your breath hitches as you find the book you had been eyeing earlier—the one Wooyoung had distracted you from in Trahana’s shop—alongside the newest edition of The Book of Arcane Beasts. Tucked neatly between the pages are a few of the photographs from his secret room; the ones you had admired without realizing he noticed.
Your heart races as you hold the items in your hands, the meaning of his gesture sinking in. It’s not just a game. Whatever this is with Wooyoung, it’s something real. And now, you're more conflicted than ever.
Yeosang steps closer to the flames that surge in the iron vessel before him, casting flickering shadows across his face while he waits. If you look closely, shapes begin to form within the flames, dancing and twisting as though something is being forged in the heat. A sudden flare of sparks erupts from the fire—it's ready.
With a steady hand, he pulls an envelope from the fire. The edges of the paper are still smoldering while he opens it with precision, watching as the magic ink slowly manifests on the paper, revealing a name.
You notice a brief, almost imperceptible frown cross his face, but it vanishes just as quickly. “Polly Petrify,” he announces smoothly, his voice steady, betraying nothing as he steps back into place.
Father Blackmoor gives a solemn nod, signaling his approval of the pairing.
The Church is packed for the Matching Ceremony, and a mix of excitement and nervous energy ripples through the crowd. The warlocks stand in front of the filled pews, their postures rigid and unreadable, while the witches occupy the first two rows of seats, eyes flickering with anticipation.
You sit among them, your heart sinking as Yeosang’s name is paired with another witch. The knot in your chest tightens, but before you have time to register how you truly feel, Wooyoung steps forward.
It’s his turn.
Time stretches unbearably as his fingers hover over the glowing envelope that emerges from the flames. He grasps it carefully, tearing it open before pulling out the slip of paper, the suspense in the room thickening with every second.
At least a dozen witches sit in eager anticipation, each one hopeful, their eyes flicking toward the altar, silently praying that their name will be the one called.
You watch his face intently, almost holding your breath.
The moment he reads the name, a subtle smile curls at the corner of his lips, making him look effortlessly gorgeous. His inky black hair falls in perfect disarray, and the deep blue sweater he’s wearing brings out a distinctive glimmer in his eyes—it’s definitely his color.
As he steps back in line to let the next warlock take their turn, you realize that you completely missed whose name he just called. You’ve been too busy gawking to notice. Leaning toward the witch beside you, you whisper, “Whose name did he say?”
She shoots you a scowl and snaps, “Yours.”
Your heart skips a beat, and your gaze whips back up front. Wooyoung catches your eye and quickly winks, the gesture playful yet it’s enough to send a wave of heat rushing through you. Your pulse races and every nerve in your body is suddenly aware of his presence. The world around you fades for a second, the reality of the situation sinking in—he chose you.
It feels like all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. Your chest tightens, and it’s taking every ounce of control not to claw at your neck in search of air. You can’t tell if your racing heart is a sign of excitement, fear, or a mixture of both.
The pairing results swirl through your mind as you try to process how you feel about Wooyoung having been paired with you. You know that the warlocks have some say in their pairing preference, but the decision is ultimately up to Father Blackmoor and The Dark Lord.
But there’s no time to dwell on it now—you have a performance to focus on. As the rest of the ceremony wraps up, the witches, including yourself, are expected to sing I Put A Spell On You.
You walk up to the front of the church with the other witches, your heart still hammering in your chest. You can feel Wooyoung’s gaze searing into you from across the room, but you refuse to meet his eyes. You know that if you do, you’ll stumble over the lyrics or worse, completely forget your part.
With every note of the song, you force yourself to remain composed. Your voice blends with the others, the melody haunting, filling the ancient church with an enchanting resonance. The weight of his stare lingers, but you resist the pull until the very end. Only when the final note fades and you’re walking back to your seat do you glance his way. His eyes are still on you, but there’s something different about his expression now—intense, unreadable.
Father Blackmoor steps forward as the ceremony winds down, his voice ringing through the dimly lit room. “Remember, paired witches and warlocks are strictly forbidden from seeing each other until tomorrow evening when you’ll all meet in the Darkwood for the Moon Ritual. Ghoul evening to you all.”
The church stirs with hushed whispers and rustling bodies as everyone begins to disperse. But you remain in place for a moment, your mind tangled in the events that have unfolded. Tomorrow promises even more mystery, and the thought of it sends another shiver down your spine.
You follow the large group down the path toward the heart of the academy’s campus, their excited chatter buzzing in the crisp evening air. But as they veer toward the dining hall, you quietly part ways, taking steps in the opposite direction toward a different building.
The heavy wooden doors creak as you push them open, and the familiar scent of ancient tomes and aged parchment envelops you.
The sanctum, the private library for advanced students like yourself, is nearly deserted tonight, making it the perfect place to find peace in the aftermath of the ceremony. The usual hum of magic is calming and the near-silence offers a much-needed space to clear your mind.
You make your way to the Demonology section, where the dim light and towering shelves create a cocoon of solitude. Finding an empty seat, you settle in, snapping your fingers to summon your books. In an instant, they materialize on the table before you, pages full of dark knowledge waiting to be absorbed.
Despite it being Lupercalia season, the academic grind doesn’t stop. Your upcoming exams loom over you like a dark cloud, and no amount of supernatural matchmaking will change that.
You run your fingers over the spines of your books, mentally preparing yourself to dive into study mode. The familiar words of your Demonology texts are grounding, a reminder of the discipline and focus you need to maintain.
The sanctum is quiet tonight, only the soft sound of pages turning and the occasional whispered incantation breaking the silence. You try to focus on the words in front of you, but your mind keeps drifting back to Wooyoung—his voice, his gaze, the gift he left in your room. You shake your head, pushing the thoughts aside. There will be time for all that later. For now, you need to concentrate.
Time passes and after finishing a few chapters, you glance at your watch, eyes widening in surprise. Three hours have flown by. Blair is going to be furious that you’re late to feed her. Scribbling down a final note, you snap your fingers, sending your books back to your room before heading out of the sanctum.
As you step outside, you collide with someone. "Oh, I’m so sorry!" you stammer, glancing up to apologize, only to be met with familiar eyes twinkling beneath tousled black hair.
Wooyoung.
“You’re forgiven,” he says smoothly.
"We’re not supposed to see each other," you remind him, taking a cautious step back.
He tilts his head, smirking too, just like he always does. "I know, but you skipped dinner, and there’s something I’ve been dying to do since yesterday."
"What? Stalk me some more?" you quip, feeling a rare surge of confidence.
His smirk spreads into a full smile, and to your delight, he chuckles—a sound you’ve secretly grown to love. Your heart pounds faster.
"You wish," he shoots back, his eyes gleaming as he steps closer. The intensity in his gaze feels almost magnetic, as if he's looking right through you, straight into your soul. His nostrils flare with a sharp exhale, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.
“What are you doing?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper as he takes yet another step closer.
He doesn't answer. Instead, with one smooth motion, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you toward him. His touch is firm, but there’s a softness to the way his fingers splay across your back. You feel your pulse quicken, your breath hitching in your throat.
“This is breaking the rules,” you whisper, trying to find an ounce of self-control to step out of his embrace.
His proximity overwhelms your senses—the warmth of his body, the way his breath tickles your skin, and the undeniable connection crackling between you two. He tilts his head slightly, the smirk on his lips fading into something more serious, more dangerous.
“I don’t break the rules, I just bend them,” he rasps, his voice low and teasing, right before he closes the space between you. The moment his lips brush against yours, you freeze, caught off guard by the softness, the tenderness as he coaxes you into responding. His mouth moves gently, skillfully, as if testing the waters, daring you to give in.
A frenzy stirs inside you, an electric current surging through your veins. Your hands instinctively move to frame his face, your fingers sliding along the sharp lines of his jaw before tangling in his soft, messy hair. The kiss deepens, the intensity building with every second as you press yourself closer to him, losing yourself in the heat of the moment.
You can’t get enough; the taste of him, the way his breath mingles with yours, and the undeniable pull that has your body responding before your mind can catch up. His other hand slides under your shirt and up your spine, anchoring you to him as if he never wants to let go.
Wooyoung mumbles an incantation against your lips before tickling the corners with his tongue. You’re too distracted to recall what he said, especially when you feel it.
Heat begins to radiate from his fingers, searing into your skin. It flows through your body until it hits your sweet spot, pooling dangerously between your legs.
You gasp against his mouth, and he uses the opportunity to dip his tongue inside, swallowing your moans as you let them slip out. Pressing your legs together, you try to find any sort of friction, aching for something to relieve the growing pressure.
A sinful sound vibrates from his chest when you bite down on his lower lip ever so gently. You have to admit, the thought of kissing him has crossed your mind more times than you can count. But now, standing here with the taste of him on your lips, you realize the reality is so much better than anything your imagination could have conjured.
He’s more intoxicating than any dream could ever be. Every touch sends a thrill through you that no fantasy could ever match. The way he knows exactly what you like leaves you yearning for more in a way that feels almost addictive.
Blair caws, cutting through the shadows of the night and announcing her arrival with impeccable timing. You both jolt, breaking apart as if the spell between you has been abruptly shattered.
“Ghoul evening, Blair,” Wooyoung mutters, his voice still thick with the lingering tension. He glances at the raven-like figure perched nearby, an amused glint flickering in his eyes. “It’s a good thing you arrived when you did,” he adds, his tone teasing. He looks down at you, pleased with how dissolved your shirt looks, how pouty your wet lips are from your nefarious activities.
He takes a step back, quickly smoothing down his hair and adjusting his clothes, his fingers lingering at his collar as he regains his usual composure. You, on the other hand, are still catching your breath, feeling the flush in your cheeks and the electric hum of the moment that lingers in the space between you.
Give me a little privacy to say goodbye, and I’ll give you extra treats for your late dinner, you say telepathically to Blair. She tilts her head, considering the offer, before finally cawing in agreement and taking off into the night, clearly satisfied with the deal.
“I want you to try something tonight,” Wooyoung murmurs, his voice low and full of mischief. His eyes glint with something dark and thrilling, sending a shiver down your spine. “When you’re alone in bed and everyone else is asleep…”
Your heart races while he speaks.
“I want you to pretend that your hands are my own, and I want you to touch yourself where you felt my magic earlier.”
“E-excuse me?” you stammer, your heart racing as you try to find the right words.
He grins, leaning in just enough for you to feel the heat radiating from him. “Trust me, you’ll like it,” he teases, his voice like velvet. “I need you to warm yourself up for me, so you’re ready to learn more tomorrow night. Will you do that for me?”
You nod, a shiver running across your skin as his words linger in the air.
“Now, get out of here and go feed Blair before you wake up tomorrow missing your eyes,” he adds with a playful smirk.
You roll your eyes but can’t suppress a smile. “Fine, see you later.”
“Yes, you will,” he says with a wink, watching as you turn to leave, his gaze heavy on you the entire way.
His words linger in your mind for the rest of the night.
It's now the witching hour, and your roommates are fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the potion you slipped into their bedtime tea. They never noticed the subtle, earthy undertones masking the spell’s effects, leaving them in a deep slumber for the next several hours.
It had to be done, the last thing you need is for one of them to wake and catch you in the act, especially while you're carrying out Wooyoung’s special request.
Under the safety of your blankets, you move quietly, as if any sudden movement could betray your secret. One hand begins to massage your breasts through your thin tank top, the other sliding down toward your pink panties.
Taking a deep breath, you open your legs, allowing your fingers to slip beneath the dampening fabric. After spreading your juices around, you rub your clit before slowly dipping your first finger into your slick entrance. The sensation is unfamiliar—neither bad nor uncomfortable, just something you're not used to. The pain of the stretch lingers, leaving a strange warmth that you can't quite place.
You close your eyes and pretend that Wooyoung is there with you. Swiftly, you begin to curl your fingers, simultaneously bucking into your hand. You picture him hovering over you, but the image clouds over, shifting into a different scene that becomes sharper.
Wooyoung is also in bed, with his hand wrapped around his exposed, thick cock, lazily pumping it. There’s something unsettlingly vivid about this image, as if it’s not just a product of your imagination. It feels real—too real. Gasping, you realize that he’s in your head, projecting himself, revealing his presence in a way that makes your heart race.
Then, as if he can sense that you've finally caught on to his wicked scheme, a dark smile tugs at the corner of his lips, the kind that makes your body’s temperature spike. “Are you touching yourself, like I asked you to?”
You suck in a sharp breath and nod instinctively, even though you know he can’t physically see you. But somehow, you sense that he knows.
“I bet you are,” he hums, closing his eyes while running his thumb over his pink head. He tosses his head back as he strokes himself, “I bet that tight little virgin cunt of yours needs some good stretching before she’s ready for me.”
Feeling the heat rising to the tips of your ears, they’re red from the weight of his words, like they’re wrapping themselves around you, pulling you deeper into his influence. The knot in your lower belly grows as you match your little finger thrusts to the speed of his hand pumps.
“Add another finger, honey, I know you can,” Wooyoung groans, his hand moving a little faster. “Look at how my cock aches to be sunk inside your sweet folds.”
You do as he commands. You’re panting at this point; completely zeroed in on his throbbing length while you climb towards bliss. The silent room fills with a sinful pattern of squelches from each thrust into your lush heat, and a divine sensation washes over you.
“Goddess, I’m about to make a mess,” he whines, a sound that you’ll never be able to forget. He stills, letting out another beautiful noise while his seed shoots out across his abs, some even on his dark silk sheets.
“That’s just a preview,” he grins devilishly, “Sleep well, Y/N.”
"Many blessings," Father Blackmoor's voice rings out, reverberating through the towering trees of the Darkwood. "Tonight, we honor the Moon and her radiant beauty. Paired couples, please step forward to collect your basket."
You step forward cautiously, aware of Wooyoung’s presence close behind you. As your fingers brush the edge of the woven basket, Wooyoung’s arm reaches past you, his hand closing around it first. His body hovers briefly against yours, a faint smile curving his lips. Sucking in a sharp breath, you pull your hand back as your mind flashes back to last night, Wooyoung’s cock is still fresh in your mind.
"Each basket contains a ceremonial knife," Father Blackmoor continues, his tone solemn. "You will begin the rite by smearing your blood upon your partner's forehead. Then, you must drink the purification potion—the milky-colored vial—and consume the figs, symbolizing your unity. Under the moonlight, you will lie side by side until dawn, as a testament to your bond and in preparation for tomorrow’s Hunt."
His final words hang in the cool night air as the forest seems to hush in reverence for what’s to come. You glance up at Wooyoung, and his eyes are already on you, dark and unreadable, only reflecting the moonlight.
As the other couples start to spread out across the forest, Wooyoung’s hand finds yours, tugging you deeper into the woods. His steps are quiet, purposeful, as the towering trees close in around you both. Your attention snaps forward when you catch a glimpse of movement—there, not far ahead, the same fox-like creature you spotted by the willows. The realization dawns on you: it’s Wooyoung’s familiar.
The creature moves gracefully, leading the way through the underbrush, its magical fur shimmering under the pale moonlight. Wooyoung follows without hesitation, his gaze fixed on his familiar. You trail behind, curiosity building, as the creature guides you to a secluded clearing hidden deep in the Darkwood.
“Thank you, Vixen,” Wooyoung murmurs once you’ve arrived. The fox-like familiar halts briefly, then glimmers before fading into the air, leaving behind a trail of glowing embers that slowly dissipate into the night.
Your eyes scan the clearing, and you notice the scene in front of you—a circle of softly flickering candles arranged around a blanket spread across the forest floor. The air hums with quiet magic, thick with mystery and anticipation. Wooyoung turns to you, his eyes glinting in the candlelight, a mischievous yet unreadable expression crossing his face.
Wooyoung extends his hand to you, his touch firm yet gentle as he helps you step onto the soft blanket. With a single snap of his fingers, your clothes transform—yours into a sheer white nightgown, his into simple black pants, with his chest left bare, the candlelight casting shadows over his defined muscles.
“Ready to begin?” he asks, voice low, eyes holding a flicker of something dangerous yet enticing.
You nod, your breath catching for a moment. Reaching into the basket set down beside him, your fingers curl around the cool metal of the ceremonial blade. Together, your voices join in a low, rhythmic chant, weaving through the night air. The ritual words hang heavy between you as you press the blade to your finger, feeling the sharp sting as blood wells up. Stepping closer, you bring your hand to his forehead, smearing an upside-down cross on his tanned skin, the blood vivid against his complexion.
Without a word, you hand the blade to Wooyoung, your fingers brushing his in the exchange. He mimics your actions, the cool sting of the knife barely registering as he pricks his finger, marking your forehead with the same crimson anti-cross. The flames around you leap higher, responding to the magic building in your chant.
The moonlight glistens against his skin, bathing him in an ethereal glow as he lifts the purification potion from the basket. He drinks deeply, eyes never leaving yours, and then hands the vial to you. You take it from him, your pulse quickening as you lift it to your lips, the magic binding you both growing stronger with each word, each action.
His eyes darken; trailing over your nearly naked body. They land on your peaked nipples, and he lets out a deep exhale while his eyes are glued in place.
“Um, figs,” Wooyoung clears his throat, momentarily dazed, shaking his head as if to regain focus. He grabs one from the basket, handing you the other. You sink your teeth into the fruit’s tender skin, its bright red flesh spilling a sweet, rich juice onto your lips. A single drop escapes and trails down your chin, and you catch Wooyoung watching, his gaze lingering longer than usual. But he doesn’t say a word. Not yet.
You quickly wipe away the juice, trying to ignore the flush creeping up your neck. “So… what now?” you ask, your voice more uncertain than you intended. You’ve both completed the ritual, but the tension between you is undeniable. Neither of you has acknowledged last night’s activities, though you’re certain it’ll come up eventually. It has to.
He shifts slightly, his eyes scanning your face, and for a moment, it seems like he’s about to bring it up. His lips twitch into a half-smile, “I’ve got an idea or two.”
You’re not sure how it happened—one moment you’re standing, the next you’re lying beneath him. Wooyoung hovers above you, his arms on either side of your head, eyes gleaming with that familiar intensity. His body is close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, and your pulse quickens as his breath brushes against your skin.
Without notice, his lips crash down onto yours. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, moaning when your hands twist in his hair.
He presses his hips down into yours, letting you feel how worked up he’s already become.
“We're technically not supposed to do anything tonight,” Wooyoung says, his voice low and teasing once he pulls back. A mischievous glint sparkles in his eyes as he adds, “But a rule’s never stopped me before.”
You pull his head back down to yours, kissing him languishingly as he rolls his hips into yours again.
“Do you want to keep going?” he asks, this time pressing his length right up against your covered heat.
Wooyoung’s lips curl into a devilish smile when you whine incoherently about wanting more.
“Answer me, honey. Do you want more?” He asks with a growl, but the intensity in his gaze makes it clear—he already knows the answer.
“Yes,” you beg, “More. Please!”
He grabs handfuls of the fabric at your sides, bunching it up around your waist before he descends below.
Your dewy center is covered in a heavy coating of your arousal. Spellbound by the sight, he instinctively brings his fingers to your heat, gathering some of your transparent essence and smearing it around your folds.
“Fucking hell, you’re so fucking wet for me,” Wooyoung mutters.
Incapable of waiting any longer, he dives in tongue first, licking a beautiful line from your slit’s opening up to your needy nub of nerves. Another growl resounds from his chest as he devours your sex, his cock involuntarily twitching when he sinks two fingers back to your opening. Wooyoung strokes his saturated fingers through your slit before sinking them inside your soft flesh, feeling your inner walls clench around them.
He pulls them out and admires how your hole instinctively sucks his digits back in where they belong.
“Such a tight little cunt. It’ll be ruined by tomorrow night,” Wooyoung groans; despite his words, there’s nothing but appraisal in his voice. He looks up at your body, meeting your eyes. His flash with a dark dominance, lust with a dash of something else flicker in them.
His devilish words only excite you further, and more of your sticky arousal coats his hand. Each curl of his fingers brings you closer and closer to writhing pleasure.
His head dips back down, his tongue swirling around your clit before he sucks it between his teeth. Gasping, you buck your hips upward, needing more. So much more.
“I can’t wait to turn you into a nasty little whore. Would you like that?” he asks in between little licks.
“Y-yes” you mewl. “Wanna. Be your w-whore.”
He’s got you dancing along the edge of a very dangerous cliff, and you want nothing more than to jump off, face first, and dive into the waves of ecstasy that await.
He can tell that you’re close; your walls are beginning to tighten around him. Flattening his tongue against your sensitive nub, he applies the right amount of pressure you need to come all over his face.
When he sits up, his mouth is dribbling with your release; it’s a pretty sight to see.
“Not bad for a virgin,” he teases.
Your blissful smile turns coy, “Is it my turn to taste you? You’ll have to teach this virgin just how you like it.”
A deep, low growl vibrates in his chest and the corners of his jaw flex as he stands up, his silhouette outlined from the moonlight.
“On your knees then, slut.”
You twist your body until you’re sitting on your knees, your used cunt dripping onto the blanket below.
“Goddess, I’m so fucking hard for you,” Wooyoung grunts while pulling his pants down.
Freed from his pants, his cock springs out before bouncing momentarily, then stands erect in its full glory. You reflexively clench at the sight of him. It’s just as you remember it from last night.
Tightening his palm around his shaft, Wooyoung begins stroking himself before lining his tip up to your lips.
“Take just the head into your mouth,” he murmurs. “Just while you warm up to the feeling.”
You immediately wrap your mouth around him and a wave of precum leaks directly onto your tongue. Circling his thick tip, you get comfortable with the weight of him on your tongue, learning his taste.
“Such a good slut,” Wooyoung croons, causing your core to tremble from his praises.
One hand moves to hold your chin, angling your head to look up at him, “When you’re ready for more, take a deep breath and take in more of me.”
Hollowing your cheeks, you suckle on his head, letting more and more of him into your wet cave. You run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, the tickling sensation causing him to jerk inside you.
Wooyoung tugs on your hair, softly at first, and then his fist wraps around the handful in his grasp. His impressive length fills your mouth, his immense girth cracking your jaw open with each gentle thrust.
Words of encouragement spill from his lips, giving you the confidence to suck in the final inch of his member.
Involuntarily, you gag around his cock when his thick head hits the back of your throat. Tears sting the corner of your eyes, falling soon after.
Without warning, his length surges into your throat and Wooyoung lets out a stream of colorful expletives as his release hits him. His hips jerk once more, and he tosses his head back underneath the moonlight.
You shudder, feeling his thick cum stick to the walls of your throat.
“Goddess,” he hums, “Sorry about that.” Wooyoung slips out of your mouth, admiring as you use the back of your hand, you wipe your soddened mouth.
“It’s okay. Now I know what to expect.”
Wooyoung pulls you into his embrace, and you both settle into the quiet rhythm of the night, staring up at the stars as they shimmer in the sky. His warmth surrounds you, grounding you amidst the cool breeze.
He shifts slightly, turning on the blanket to meet your gaze. “I need to warn you about tomorrow,” he begins, his voice lower, more serious. “The potion we warlocks take before the ceremony… it makes our animalistic instincts take over. It’s going to be rough. That’s why I’ve been preparing you, so to speak.”
A knot twists in your stomach at his words. You hadn’t realized the full extent of what tomorrow held, but now it makes sense. That’s why they call it the Hunt, you think, You’re basically their prey. The pieces finally click into place. His honesty, though jarring, makes you feel strangely grateful that he’s letting you in on something you weren’t aware of.
“I trust you,” you whisper softly. “You haven’t hurt me so far, so I’m not worried about tomorrow.”
Wooyoung’s chest rises as he takes a deep breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He silently prays to Goddess Peralia that he won’t bring you any harm during the Hunt. The uncertainty flickers in his eyes for just a moment before he pulls you closer, wrapping you in his warmth.
“Come here,” he murmurs, his voice gentle as you settle against his chest. His heart beats steadily beneath your ear, and soon your breaths fall in sync, the sound of the wind rustling through the Darkwood easing you both into a peaceful silence.
As the stars twinkle above, the night’s calm surrounds you like a protective cocoon, lulling you into sleep. You drift into a deep, restful slumber, cocooned in his arms, feeling the peace before the inevitable storm of tomorrow.
“The Insatiable Hunt begins,” one of the warlocks grins darkly before tossing back the elixir, the liquid shimmering as it slides down his throat. Wooyoung raises his glass in silent agreement, his eyes flashing with excitement before he gulps it down, feeling the fiery potion race through his veins. The others follow suit, the room buzzing as they prepare for the night ahead.
They pull on their wolf masks, transforming from men into primal hunters, instincts sharpening with every heartbeat. The thrill of the chase hangs thick in the air as they line up, muscles tensed, waiting for the doors to open.
Wooyoung’s body hums with the effects of the potion, a burning heat spreading through his skin. His senses sharpen—your scent lingers, intoxicating and irresistible. His pupils dilate as your essence floods his nostrils, every fiber of his being urging him forward. The others grin beneath their masks, but his focus is single-minded: you.
The doors creak open with a loud thud, unleashing them into the night. With a guttural growl, Wooyoung sprints into the woods, his feet pounding the earth as he follows your trail, the scent drawing him deeper into the Darkwood. His heart races, blood pumping with one singular purpose: to find you. To claim his prize.
Wooyoung moves like a shadow, effortlessly twisting and turning through the woods, his heightened senses guiding him closer to your trail. Each subtle shift in the air tells him you're near. He slows as he approaches a dense thicket, his instincts screaming at him to be cautious. He can feel you hiding, watching, waiting.
His cock strains when he catches a whiff of your scent, his hardened member straining against the tightness of his pants as it begs to bury itself deep inside of you.
His eyes narrow, hyper-focused on the faintest rustle of leaves. You dart from the bushes, sprinting through the underbrush, your breath quickening as you distance yourself from him. He follows silently, his steps deliberately soundless as he stalks you.
You duck behind a tree, pressing your back against its trunk, heart pounding in your chest. Straining to listen, you hear... nothing. No footsteps, no rustling—nothing. A chill creeps up your spine. Slowly, you peek around the tree, scanning the shadows. There’s no sign of him.
Relief barely has time to settle in before you turn back and scream.
He’s right there, inches away.
"Gotcha," Wooyoung growls, his voice low and menacing, his breath hot against your skin. With a wicked grin, he grabs your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze as he slams your back against the rough bark of the tree. The impact sends a jolt through your body, your heart racing even faster now. His grip tightens, but not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who’s in control.
His eyes glint through the wolf mask with a dangerous mix of hunger and satisfaction, the thrill of the Hunt evident in every line of his expression.
Wooyoung's grip tightens, his breath hot against your ear as he growls, “I can’t wait to split you in half with my cock.”
Before you can react, he spins you around, pressing your chest against the rough bark of the tree. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his hands slide down your sides, firm and unyielding.
He blames his newfound animalistic behavior for how fast he rips away your crimson cloak and the layers beneath it, leaving the shredded fabric scattered across the mossy forest floor.
In one swift movement, Wooyoung uses a knee to spread your legs and sinks into your inviting opening without warning. Tears sting your eyes from the sudden intrusion, but the pain quickly turns into mind-shattering pleasure.
“Taking it so well, aren’t you, slut?” he purrs, voice low and dripping with praise. The raw, commanding edge in his tone sends shivers through you, your insides tightening around him in response.
You hum an incoherent response, unable to form words when his cockhead is pressed against the swell of your cervix.
After ripping his mask off, Wooyoung’s fingers press into your hips. He holds you steady as he moves, each thrust punctuated by dark whispers of just how perfectly he fits inside you.
Wooyoung’s grin brushes against your neck as he drags his tongue up the curve of your skin, leaving a lingering lick before pressing a kiss just below your ear. His hips pull back slowly, his length retreating from your slick folds until only the tip remains, teasing you.
Then, with a low growl, he thrusts forward, filling you entirely in one fluid motion, claiming every inch as he sinks deep inside.
The sudden motion causes you to moan uncontrollably, his girth continuing to stretch out your soft walls. Your soaked cunt splitting open around Wooyoung’s enormous girth only causes him to swell more, if that’s even possible.
“M-more, please!” you whimper.
Wooyoung clenches his jaw, feeling your wetness ooze out where your bodies meet with each quick thrust.
One of his hands squeezes your side, the other falls to your round ass, and his claw-like nails scratch across your skin before he pulls his hand back to spank you. Your vision blurs from the impact, and you push your hips out, asking for more.
“Again,” you whine, your head digging further into the tree’s bark.
You bite down on your lower lip, anticipation building as you brace yourself. A sharp crack echoes through the air as his hand comes down against you, harder this time and sending another sting that radiates through your skin.
A moan slips past your lips, the sharpness transforming into pleasure that courses through your body. His fingers trace the spot he’s just marked, his low chuckle rumbling against your ear.
"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice rich with approval, each word sending shivers through you. “Turn around. I want to look at you," he demands next, his voice gritting through his teeth.
You obey, slowly turning to face him, your heart racing under his intense gaze. His eyes roam over you, filled with a mix of hunger and admiration that makes you feel both vulnerable and exhilarated.
Wooyoung cups your chin, tilting your face up toward him. His thumb brushes over your swollen lips as he drinks you in. "Look at you," he whispers, almost to himself, his thumb slipping inside your mouth. Instinctively, you wrap your lips around it, meeting his gaze as you lightly suck, earning a dark smile from him.
"You're perfect," he murmurs, his free hand tracing down your body, grazing every curve and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. "And you're all mine tonight." His words trail off as his length pounds into you again.
He watches as your lips part, head tilting back in pure bliss, and takes his chance. His mouth crashes onto yours, tongue slipping between your lips with a raw desire, claiming every inch he can reach. The kiss is deep and possessive, leaving you breathless as his hand tangles in your hair, keeping you close.
His tongue strokes against yours, tasting every gasp and moan you release, as if he’s memorizing the way you feel beneath him. You melt into his kiss, losing yourself in the heat, the way he consumes you with each movement.
When he pulls back, Wooyoung drags his lips against the shell of your ear to whisper, “Is this what you want? Your little virgin cunt destroyed?”
“Yes,” you moan, voice low and thick with desire. Then, locking eyes with him, you let a wicked smirk curve your lips, meeting his heated gaze with a look as dangerous as his own. "Ruin me," you breathe, each word dripping with a challenge that sends a spark down his spine.
A growl escapes his lips, and his grip on you tightens. He pushes you against the rough bark, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist as his eyes darken with pure, animalistic hunger. “You want to be ruined?” he whispers, his voice a low rasp against your ear as he pulls your hips even closer. “Careful what you ask for.”
His thrusts come harder, relentless, each one leaving you trembling and gasping as he takes you to the edge, only to pull you back before you can fall. His hand slides up your throat, a possessive touch that’s somehow both gentle and commanding as his thumb grazes your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze.
"You’re mine," he growls, eyes blazing, his body pressed against yours with no space left between you. He savors every inch of you, watching your face intently as he ravages you with a merciless rhythm, his fingers digging into your waist. “And I’m not stopping until you’re completely undone.”
Your moans grow louder, filling the night air and mingling with the rhythmic slap of your bodies moving in unison. The sounds echo through the Darkwood, a primal symphony that seems to resonate with the forest around you, intensifying with each frenzied thrust.
Wooyoung feels your walls clench tightly around him, a signal that you’re close to unraveling. “Cum around my cock, honey,” he rasps, his voice laced with possessiveness. “I know you’re close.”
He quickens his pace, pounding into you with a newfound urgency, while his fingers find their way to that sensitive spot between your legs. The moment his thumb and forefinger pinch your aching nub, pleasure spirals through you like wildfire.
You scream his name, your body seizing up as waves of ecstasy crash over you, each pulse flooding your veins with tingling heat.
He watches you intently, captivated as your face twists in bliss, feeling you squeeze around him, almost pulling him over the edge.
A low growl escapes his lips, and with two final, frenzied thrusts, he buries himself as deeply as he can, his abs contracting as he spills himself inside you. His teeth graze your bare shoulder, biting down as he rides out his release, filling you with a heat that leaves you both breathless.
“Oh, praise Satan,” he gasps, letting out a shaky laugh as he presses his forehead against yours. The two of you catch your breath together, heartbeats slowing, tangled in the afterglow.
You collapse entirely into his arms, utterly spent and trembling, every muscle deliciously exhausted as you sink into the darkness of sleep that lingers at the edge of your consciousness. A grin tugs at your lips, satisfaction mingling with exhaustion as you surrender to it, the night’s events replaying like a forbidden lullaby.
Nothing in your dreams could ever compare to the raw, disgraceful, dangerously addictive reality you’ve just experienced. Wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, you let go, falling into a slumber filled with echoes of his touch.
The room is loud with the sound of laughter, clinking goblets, and whispered gossip. Candles cast a warm glow over the grand hall as platters of food float between the seated bodies; you're barely listening though, too hyper-aware of Wooyoung sitting beside you.
You steal a glance at him from across the table. He’s watching you, his gaze steady and unwavering. A secret smirk plays at the corner of his lips, one that makes your cheeks burn under the soft glow of the chandeliers. It’s almost unbearable, this tension simmering between you, each stolen look as dangerous as a spark near dry wood.
His fingertips graze yours under the table, sending a rush through you each time. You both know the game you’re playing—pushing boundaries, daring each other, waiting for one of you to make the next move.
Finally, he leans in, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Let’s get out of here.”
"We can’t just leave," you mumble, finally meeting his burning gaze. There's a warning in your eyes, but he ignores it, his grin only growing.
You bite your lip, glancing around at the oblivious faces around you. "It’s the middle of the feast," you continue, though your resolve is already faltering. "People will notice."
"Let them," he says, the mischief in his tone unmistakable.
He stands and takes your hand, his grip both gentle and possessive as he leads you out, weaving through the tables with a confidence that dares anyone to question him.
Whispers and side glances follow, and you try to ignore the burning stares—hungry warlocks with dark eyes, envious witches with guarded whispers.
Everything has changed.
Wooyoung’s presence grounds you, his thumb brushing reassuring circles against your skin. And when he glances back at you, tilting his head in that familiar way with a smirk tugging at his lips, you realize that somehow—despite all the chaos of this past week—some things aren’t so different after all.
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ahhh eeee aanggg imagine abby sliding her big hands down ur curves and whispering naughty things in your ear at an inappropriate time🫀🫀
oh geez you guyssss 🫦😫😫 i have writers block so bare w me 🙏🙏🙏
you and abby were currently at a friends get-together at Dina and Ellie’s house. It had been a while since all 5 have been together hanging out (including jesse, who, shockingly, brought a plus 1..) so you decided to dress rather nice. a tight, long silk dress draped over your body, enhancing every curve and crevices for everyone to see. Especially abby.
You hadn’t exactly thought about what her thoughts might be about it since you were only thinking about being with your friends— but, your mindset began to change while you grabbed another drink in the kitchen.
You hummed, the alcohol beginning to make you a little tipsy, running its course through your veins. You heard Abby’s all too familiar Tabacco leather cadet shoes hit the ground as softly as usual, she carries her form so nicely. You smiled although you couldn’t see her, and she smiled at you when you turned on your heel. in your pre-alcoholic state, you’d missed how her blue eyes raked your body hungrily. walking past her, you placed a kiss to her cheek and made your way out of the kitchen with two beers in each of your hands. Abby smirked upon the thought that lit up her mind, cracking her knuckles as she followed you.
You weren’t the only intoxicated one- Ellie was barley breathing on the couch- her joint about to slip from her fingers and burn the place down, jesse and his new girlfriend were being so touchy even abby felt strange about it, and dina was laughing and dancing to the music playing. You’d grabbed 4 beers for you and dina, dancing and laughing with her. Abby took in everyone’s state and decided to let her body take over. Abby’s big form approached you as you bent down, placing the beers on Dina’s glass living room table, alongside other substances. You gasped when you felt abby’s strap against your ass when she pressed herself against you, surprise filling your mind that she would wear that to a friends house. you rose up, abby taking this opportunity to place her big hands on your waist, sliding them down to your hips and ass, grabbing the soft fat there and giving it a little squeeze. At this point, your laughing, carefree demeanor had vanished and all you wanted was to be bent over and fucked by your girlfriend. You sent her a bashful glance from over your shoulder, caching onto her games and trying to ignore them for the sake of everyone else while being oddly flustered; blaming the alcohol. Abby had noticed, not liking your idea of ignoring her advances but finding you cute when you are shy. She bend her head down, crooking her face so her lips were barely touching your ear as she began to whisper in your ear.
“why so shy?” her hot breath fanned your neck, inching you to hold had a pathetic moan you were about to make. “oh, c’mon, babe.” she laughed, her hands sliding more downward, towards your pushed together thighs. You sighed when her hand slipped past the tender spot of the bite she had left there the previous night. “you know you want to,” she continued, smiling against you. “you want me to touch you, hm?” you tried to focus on anything but her, “yeah? you want me.” she let out a deep chuckle, warm breath once more fanning your neck, goosebumps replying to the sensation. the pathetic whimper you let out had abbys already high ego boosting out of its mind, her hands quickly sliding to your hips and grabbing harshly before speaking up. “we’re gonna head out, have fun guys.” she said loudly, taking your hand in hers as dina yelled a sad goodbye, making her way to her stoned girlfriend.
once you both made it outside, you spoke up. “abby! you couldn’t wait a few more hours? i haven’t seen them in so long!” you whined, frowning at her smirk as she opened the car door. “sorry babe, but my dick needs some serious relief,” she said, pushing you inside the car and smashing her lips onto yours, grinning against your surprised moan. she closed the door, unbuckling her jeans. “i can’t wait to fuck you.”
#abby anderson#lesbian#abby tlou#abby anderson the last of us 2#tlou 2 abby#abby smut#abby anderson x f!reader#abby anderson x y/n#abby anderson x you#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x reader#abby the last of us
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