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ittybittyfanblog · 2 months ago

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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition)

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus (+ maybe the other MLs!) and an oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, maybe some suggestive language?? will add more tags as the story progresses A/N: This is gonna be a multi-chapter fic! I’m still not sure whether to do the boys in rotation, or just focus on one ML per series. Don’t take my word for it atp tho – I’m not even sure if I can actually finish a series lol. Also, I’ve had the creative liberty of changing stuff from the actual gameplay here and there. (Except for the self-awareness. That’s most definitely real.) Hope you enjoy~!

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6

It’s a quarter past eight and you’re still on your desk working overtime on a Friday night.

You let out a big sigh, leaning back on your office chair after an unhealthy duration of bad posture from hours of slouching down in front of your computer. There’s nothing ergonomic about the way this job is killing you, and the ache in your lower back can attest to that.

An irate orange tabby plops himself in front of you, blocking your view of the glaring screen and you figure that it’s time for a break.

“Me-oow.”

“I know, I know,” You answer tiredly, standing up to dodge a stray paw clawing your way and you hear cracks in three different places that are honestly unbecoming of a woman your age. You haven’t even reached thirty yet, for god’s sake. “I’m a bad mother. But mom also had to skip dinner to make it to the seven PM meeting, so cut me some slack, okay?”

A high-pitched “meooowr!” is the only response you get; it seems like there’s no excusing late dinner time this time around.

As much as you’d like to hem and haw and complain, the main reason why you’re still keeping this job is because you can work remotely. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re stuck most days at home working hours past your regular nine to five, having to be on-call around the clock at all times, and that you’ve consumed more sodium than a nitrite victim with the way you live off cup ramen, then, really, it beats working in an office where you’d physically have to clock in and out from exactly nine to five.

Your right eye twitches. No, I have not fallen in love with the system that exploits me, thank you very much.

“Here is your Fancy Feast, your highness,” you tell the hungry feline who’s already ignoring the hand that feeds for the bowl full of white fish paté. He eats healthier than you, sure, but you work like this for him to eat like this. The life of a single mom is an uphill battle, but extremely rewarding.

You raise your hand to pat your son’s head lovingly, aborting the gesture halfway when you hear a warning growl. Alright, tough crowd.

After nuking a half-eaten takeout box in the microwave and grabbing a cold Bundaberg from the fridge, you hunker down on the “chaise lounge” (see: an old wingback and a rattan ottoman you’ve refurbished as a makeshift seat a few weeks back when you had guests over) for a late meal.

You barely register the taste of lukewarm rice on your tongue, mouth moving mechanically while your mind runs on autopilot about everything and nothing at the same time.

Maybe it’s time to check Jobstreet again

Is there like a laundromat near the area that’s open twenty four seven

Eugh, I hate cold peas

What do we feel about Chromakopia?

I will… die alone

I really need to stock on some fresh produce this weekend–

Ping!

A notification from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts—and like a well-trained dog pavlov’d into responding, you visibly perk up at the sight of your lock screen lighting up and the familiar banner you’ve already memorized by heart.

Your Galaxy Explorer rewards are here. Did you put my hotel’s address as the shipping address?

Ah, just like clockwork.

You press on it with a quiet, bubbling anticipation, chewing on the plastic spork as you wait impatiently for the silly mobile game that’s been your short respite at intervals – for more than you’d care to admit – to boot up.

Offhandedly, you wish that the devs would add more variations to the game’s push notifications; more random, personalized stuff like maybe a reminder to drink water, or a fun update about their day. What you’d give–pay–for a: "Less on the overtime, kitten. I miss you,” dialogue from a certain character, but you digress.

Oh, well. Probably better this way, lest you dig yourself deeper into delusion.

The game greets you with the usual picturesque view of a silver-haired man sitting cross-legged on a chair, looking all the bit at ease in his signature crimson and white button up. The warm ambience of the Destiny Café at night draws you in, already pulling your attention away from the never-ending stream of thoughts in your brain.

“Before seeing you, I thought today would be another dull day,“ Sylus comments airily. The way he drawls out the words in that deep timbre of his voice never fails to make your heart flutter – just a teeeensy bit.

“Ever the charmer,” you sigh happily in return, situating yourself more comfortably on the sofa, almost horizontal from how far you’re leaning back on the cushion. “You’re looking awfully normal tonight. What, no pineapple glasses for your favorite girl?”

Having bypassed the initial cringe of talking to yourself after literal months of gameplay, it almost comes off natural, the banter. You’ve already accepted the fact that you’re crazy about a fictional, pixelated man—what’s pretending to have actual conversations with him gonna do? It’s not as if he actually hears you yap your nonsense; there are worse things in the world than a parasocial attachment to an otome game character.

Your little jab at the sometimes random addition to his choice of attire earns you a laugh from the man itself—or at least it looks as though it does, making you blink momentarily in surprise. Happy coincidence, I guess.

You shake your head, cracking a smile, then proceed to do the routine of completing the daily agenda and then some.

It’s tedious business, sure. You’ve dedicated hours upon hours on this game and you’re honestly starting to feel pretty bored with some of the gameplay elements, but you *do* like the ritualistic nature of ticking off the tasks one by one. It’s almost ironic— the way you dutifully do one thing after the other in this game, just to avoid the pile of work that’s waiting for you in real life.

It’s not as if anything, or anyone’s relying on you to do your daily log-ins, so you suppose it’s due to that lack of pressure as well.

Pulling yourself away from the five-star Xavier memory card you’ve grinded to level seventy, you stare despondently at the sad little 2 on your remaining energy. The embarrassing amount of materials you lack to ascend the card seem to mock you, even as you exit the Memories window. Another goal for another day, perhaps.

All tasks on the daily agenda are complete, except for one that you’ve always saved for last.

You’re met with a standing Sylus on the game’s home screen, arms crossed and wearing an expression you’d almost describe as impatient, if you didn’t know any better. The sight makes you grin.

Cheekily, you poke his crotch.

You’re looking forward to getting a playful remark, or if you’re lucky, a blush along with an embarrassed retort about your shamelessness.

What you get, however, is a resounding scoff. Your eyes snap back to his face – from, ahem, your prolonged staring at the area below his waist – and you do see the familiar tinge of pink on his cheeks, but what he says in response catches you off-guard.

“You spend that much resource for a card that isn’t mine?” Sylus tsks, both his voice and expression coming across as… affronted? “Kitten, I’m actually hurt.”

Huh?

You haven’t heard that line from him before. Was there a recent update you weren’t aware of? The man in question then appears to look amused, from the way you’ve been rendered speechless by the unexpected dialogue.

All at once, you gasp when you realize what the new response means.

“That’s so smart,” you say giddily. You see Sylus cock his head to the side, synchronously quirking an eyebrow—expectant. “They actually added a feature that lets them know which memory I’ve upgraded last, and make you react to it. Oh, that’s so cool!”

If you weren’t too busy being excited over what you think is a new update from the game, you’d see the chagrined look on Sylus’ face. But when you glance back at him, all trace of the emotion is gone before you could notice anything different.

“Don’t worry, Crow Man. You’re still my favorite,” you assure him, making his mouth tick upwards in a semblance of a smile. He looks pleased all of the sudden, his demeanor shifting into something more relaxed.

Then a pout forms on your face. You crinkle your nose in frustration as you complain, “It’s just really hard to level your cards up at this point. It takes ages and a shit ton of energy just to level you up past seventy five.” Sighing, you add, kind of bitterly, “And I’m too broke to be spending money on growth packs.”

Checking the time on your phone, you see that you’ve already spent more than an hour on your self-imposed break time and you know that you ought to get back to work soon. With a groan, you pull yourself to sit upright, savoring the last few minutes of free time before you slave off for the rest of the night.

You’re about to clean up what’s left of dinner when you notice the oddly thoughtful look on Sylus’ face.

There’s a deep furrow in his brows as he brings a hand up to cover his mouth. He closes his eyes shut for a few seconds. He's never done that gesture before... Ugh, he looks really hot–

Suddenly, you see a flicker— then a weird, sort of graphic distortion happening in the background. Uh, what??

A beat; then a glitch on the screen. “Ah, shit.”

The game crashes.

You exhale loudly as the game’s interface goes back to the loading screen, tapping your thumb impatiently as the bar slowly loads to 15%... 50%..... 81%.......

“Maybe make sure to patch up first before releasing an update next time, jeez— Huh?”

For a quick second, nothing seems to be amiss. But then the first thing you see on the home screen is Sylus’ figure standing before you, wearing an expression one could only describe as a cat that ate the proverbial canary.

He speaks— and it’s another intro you haven’t heard him say, ever.

“You should’ve told me sooner, sweetie,” he almost coos the words out, making your eyes bug out in shock.

“Now, why don’t you go check your–” he pauses, and his mouth moves as if he’s rolling the word out, testing it. “Inventory?”

Sylus slides his gaze towards the upper left corner of the screen, a coy smirk still ever-present on his face.

There, you see something you haven’t noticed earlier: two notification badges. One on your mailbox, and another on the Hunter’s Info tab. Bewildered, you press on the mail icon first, despite the insistence for you to start with the latter.

You see a new message: [For You]

A small gift, to bridge our worlds closer. – S

Nothing is attached to it. You read it twice, perplexed.

“You’re quite the contradictorian, aren’t you?” Sylus tuts as soon as you return back to the home screen, his gaze boring into you even when he tilts his head sideways in mock exasperation. “Mmm, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Take all the time you need, sweetheart.”

Helplessly, you open your inventory next.

Your jaw drops.

“What. The fuck,” You whisper to yourself, voice wavering in disbelief at what you’re seeing, and the sheer amount of what you’re seeing. “This– this can’t be real.”

You see that all the materials you own, from the bottle of wishes to the ascension crystal boxes, have been multiplied a hundred times over.

And on top of that–

Ninety nine thousand red dias????

You cannot believe how this– this recent… update (or is it a bug? Infold sure isn’t this generous) didn't make the news. Even as someone as uninvolved as you are with the community and the game’s latest releases, something like this for sure would’ve made headlines on Twitter (X), at least. But you haven’t heard anything. Nada.

Holy shit.

You feel a little light-headed, both from incredulity and excitement. Needing a moment to calm yourself down, you exit the Inventory tab in a daze.

You stare at Sylus. He stares back at you with what looks to be mirth in his eyes.

Skeptically, you mutter, “did–did I get hacked or something?”

Anticipating another unexpected dialogue to prompt up, you wait for a full minute without saying anything else. And for a moment, the man in front of you looks indecisive, contemplative.

There’s something very odd, very… human in the way he’s looking at you. He looks as if– as if he’s—

His face falls back into a neutral expression. Not unlike how his idle animation usually looks.

…

….. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to initiate a conversation any time soon, so you hesitantly poke him on the nose.

“Even in the worst-case scenario, there’s no need to panic.”

You’ve heard that one before.

So he’s back to normal now. You temper the small disappointment that blooms in your gut.

Shaking your head slowly, you try to make sense of all the stuff that just happened, but a sharp bite on your ankle pulls you out of your reverie.

“Ow–!” The sight of your cat flopping near your feet reminds you of the time. More importantly, the backlogs waiting for you at your desk.

“Wait, shit– I gotta get back to work.” This… unbelievable stroke of good luck (?) is gonna have to take a backseat for now.

You grab the carton box and the half-empty bottle of sparkling peach as you stand up. Making quick work of throwing the container in the trash and gulping down the rest of your drink, you rush into your room and back in front of your PC.

Cracking your knuckles, you gingerly set your phone against the monitor. Setting the timer to one hour in Quality Time, knowing fully-well that you’re going to have to keep extending it until the wee hours of the morning—or until your battery dies, whichever comes first—you give Sylus one last look, letting out a long exhale before locking in.

“Just keep me company for the night, alright? I’ll figure out what’s going on once my shift’s over.”

It could just be your overactive imagination, but you swear you hear a quiet chuckle from the man polishing his gun in your peripheral.

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #sylus qin

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jayybugg · 1 month ago

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drunken confessions

Theodore Nott x FemRavenclaw!Reader

Summary: Theo drinks a little bit more than he should....

Warnings: Drinking, No use of Y/N, Only mentions being in Ravenclaw once, and very cute???

Word Count: 1.6K

Note: Long time no see, my loves! I took a really long hiatus abruptly because life was kicking my ass badly. I decided that my first fic back should be a Theo fluff because who would I be if I didn't give this boy all of my attention? I hope you guys all enjoy it.

Banners by @cafekitsune

Music boomed through the Slytherin common room as you tried to navigate the sweaty bodies and screaming teens. You were trying to find Theodore, the person who had invited you. It was a celebratory party for Slytherin winning the quidditch game against Hufflepuff. You were in the Ravenclaw house but are good friends with many people in Slytherin.

"Oy," Draco pulled you to the side, "Looking for Theo?"

"Yeah, you've seen him?" you asked, gripping his arm so no one could separate you both. Draco nodded, pulling you to a separate room where Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theo sat.

"Finally, you're here." Daphne pulled you in for a hug, whispering in your ear, "Drunk pants over there have been asking about you for the past hour."

You glanced over at Theo, who was very drunk. "He never drinks this much." You whispered back to Daphne. She shrugged. "He caught the stitch. Winner of the game tonight."

You nodded, walking over to Theo and sitting next to him. He immediately grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist. "I've been waiting for you all night," Theo said, speaking slowly so his words didn't get slurred.

"I'm sorry. Why'd you drink so much without me?" You asked, tapping softly on his wrist. "I didn't mean to." Theo said, "Won the game, so people had given me a bunch of drinks."

You nodded, allowing Theo to go back to being the life of the party. Enzo sat down next to you, to keep you company as the party continued.

"So, what's your excuse for not being at the game tonight?" Enzo asked.

"That project for Transfiguration. My partner is an idiot who waited last minute to do his part, so I had to help him. I feel bad for missing it." You said, taking a sip of your water.

"Theo was upset that you weren't there. Probably what motivated him to win the game. That boy is obsessed with you," Enzo said, nudging you. You cleared your throat, feeling a sudden sense of nervousness. "We're just friends, Enzo."

"For now." Enzo wiggled his eyebrows. You laughed at him, rolling your eyes.

Did you like Theo? Yeah, but you didn't think he would like you back. He had a lot of girls on him and he could choose any of them. You were so wrapped in your mind and your conversation that you didn't notice that Theo had wandered off until you heard your name being called.

"Take Theo back to his dorm, please!" Blaise pleaded as he and Mattheo held a nearly blacked-out Theo up. You hopped up, grabbing Theo from them.

"Oh, hey, pretty girl." Theo drunkenly grinned at you. You smiled back. "You should've stopped drinking, Teddy."

"Really should've." Mattheo agreed. "You know where his dorm is. Don't worry about cleaning up down here, we got it."

You nodded, saying your goodbyes to everyone before walking upstairs to Theo's room.

"Pretty girl." Theo dragged out the pet name. "Your hair is so soft."

"Thanks, Teddy." You opened the door to his room, switched on the lights, and put him on the bed.

"Come on, let's get you in pajamas." You tapped his nose lightly, making him smile at you.

"You're so pretty, pretty girl. That's why I call you 'pretty girl' because you're so fucking pretty. Sometimes I think you're otherworldly because of it," Theo gushed, falling back on his bed. You felt your heartbeat pick up as the compliments flowed from Theo's mouth.

"Thank you, Theo. Here, put this shirt on." You handed the shirt to Theo, who shook his head no. "I like to be shirtless."

Theo pulled his shirt over his head and threw it in the hamper. You tried your best not to stare at his chest before handing him a pair of pants.

"You're taking good care of me, pretty girl. I wish you could always take care of me. Merlin, I love you so much." Theo spoke again. You felt your eyes widen as you looked at him. "What?" You said softly.

"I love you like I'm so in love with you. I just want to be with you all the time." Theo continued. You cleared your throat, pushing him under the covers. Theo was clearly saying anything to you because he was drunk. If Pansy or Daphne were here, he would probably say the same thing. You forced yourself to repeat that to yourself repeatedly so you could believe it.

"Get some sleep, Theo, goodnight." You switched off his light as you swung his door open. "Goodnight, my pretty girl. I love you." Theo said.

You quickly shut the door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. You didn't know how to interpret what had just happened. Theo admitted to being in love with you. Or did he? He was drunk, so he probably wasn't serious. Yeah, he was drunk. You took a deep breath before making your way back downstairs.

Mattheo saw you hurry down the stairs and raised his eyebrow at you, "You good? Is Theo okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine. I'm just gonna go back to my dorm," You said. Mattheo eyed you, "What happened?"

"What? Why would anything happen?" You asked, diverting your eyes anywhere but to Mattheo's.

"..."

You sighed, glancing down at your feet, "Theo said he was in love with me."

The room froze as everyone turned their heads to look at you. Suddenly, you felt tiny. "What? Why are you guys staring at me like that?" You asked.

"Nothing! It's just...." Daphne glanced at everyone, "We didn't expect Theo to confess that when he was drunk."

"Yeah, I had galleons on an angry confession followed by an angry, passionate kiss," Draco said, causing Pansy to hit him in the arm.

You blinked. Confess? Confess as in.... he's been holding this in for a long time?

"Wait, so he's telling the truth, and you all knew it?" You asked. Everyone made noises in agreement.

"I mean, everyone can see how head over heels he is for you. You were the only one denying it." Blaise said. Your face felt hot, and you shook your head, "I'm going to my dorm."

Everyone laughed, bidding you goodbye.

Theo woke up the next day with a terrible headache.

"Ahh, there's our champion." Blaise's teasing voice caused Theo to groan.

"Why would I ever drink that much?" Theo asked, mainly to himself. Enzo laughed, setting a cup of water and some medicine on Theo's bedside. "I don't know, but it was quite entertaining to see you get taken care of by your pretty girl." Enzo's voice was teasing and light.

Theo's face immediately heated at the idea of acting like a fool in front of you. "Did I do something stupid in front of her?"

Blaise and Enzo shared a look before shrugging. Theo looked at both of them. "What? What did I do? Oh, Merlin, tell me I didn't embarrass myself."

"I wouldn't say you embarrassed yourself," Blaise said.

"But sober Theo definitely wouldn't have confessed to her that he's in love with her," Enzo said.

It took Theo a moment to realize what Enzo had said before his face turned completely red in shame and embarrassment.

"I told her I was in love with her?" Theo groaned loudly. That was not how he pictured confessing to you. Well, he never pictured confessing his feelings to you because he was scared and had no intentions of doing it.

"It's a good thing, don't you think? I mean, she finally knows." Blaise said, "Although she might need some convincing because she thinks you only said it because you were drunk and probably didn't mean it."

Theo hopped out of his bed, finding the nearest t-shirt before slipping on his shoes. He had already confessed how he felt and if it's already out there, there's no point in hiding it.

Theo spirited to your dorm, not muttering a good morning to anyone as he pushed past them. Finally, he got to your dorm and banged on it until he heard your feet shuffling.

"Teddy?" You asked groggily before focusing your eyes on the out-of-breath and frizzled Theo in front of you, "What the hell happened to you?"

"I meant it."

"What?"

There was silence between you two. He knew you knew what he was talking about, so it didn't take long for realization to take over your face.

"I meant it." Theo repeated himself, "Every word I said last night while I was sloppy drunk was true."

"I have been trying to work up the courage to say something about it for the last year or so. Granted, I didn't think it would be while I was drunk."

"How long?" You tilted your head to the side, with a hint of amusement gracing your face.

Theo's face flushed pink, as he knew you were teasing him, as well as being genuinely curious. "Since first year. When I saw you on the train to school."

"You didn't even speak to me until third year."

"I was nervous." Theo let out a breath. "I watched you, though."

You held back a laugh as Theo immediately turned even more red. "That was creepy. I didn't mean it like that! I just— we've shared a lot of classes and— I'm going to shut up."

You stood on your tippy toes, kissing Theo's flushed cheeks. "I've had a crush on you since second year."

"Really?"

You nodded, smiling. "So what now?"

"Um, will you go on a date with me? Maybe next weekend after the quidditch game?" Theo asked, feeling more nervous than ever.

"I would love to, " you smiled. And I won't miss this game, I promise."

"I'm holding you to that." Theo smiled back.

You gave Theo another kiss on the cheek. "It's still early. I'll see you later, okay?"

Theo nodded, and you smiled, closing your door. Theo stayed there for a few more seconds until he realized he probably looked crazy for just smiling at your door.

Who knew getting drunk had some perks?

#theodore nott #slytherin boys #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #theodore nott x reader #jayybugg fics #slytherin #fluff #theo nott x reader

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morgy-doo · 8 months ago

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school bus graveyard realtionship headcannons

^ such cuties

Ashlyn Banner~

insanely protective

when you are in the phantom dimension this girl is mostly focused on making sure you don't get hurt/die

keeps you away from Aiden in that dimension so you don't end up getting roped into something stupid

Altho she isn't the most affectionate person, she will grab your hand and squeeze it tightly when she is nervous

she begrudgingly...after ALOT of begging, allowed you to play with her hair, when it is undone it is super wavy from being in those plaits all day

if you every get seriously hurt/die in the demon dimension, she will act calm and collected at first, but then totally lose it

she wont cry until she is alone of course

refuses to leave you alone until she knows you are better

after that she doesn't let you leave her sight

she just wants to keep you safe and close to her

Aiden Clark~

your more of a mother/father than a girlfriend/boyfriend-

CONSTANTLY bouncing off the walls

literally-

at one point in your relationship he would tell you he had a cute date planned....you had no idea that it was skydiving

he loved it

you not so much

in the phantom dimension he is using you to back him up in arguments

and he definatley tries to show off for you at one point

when they get locked in the mental assylum, he paints his face as you instead of the clown because why not

he found it endearing, you found it absolutely terrifiying

if you die then he will go silent, not as energetic or bouncy until he knows you are okay again, he constantly brings you things to entertain you with while in the hospital

he just wants you to never get bored of him

Ben Clark~

the most sweetest boyfriend ever

he will buy you flowers out of nowhere just to see you smile

sometimes he feels bad that he cannot say how much he loves you verbally

constantly has hand cramps from writing huge paragraphs about his love for you

the type of boyfriend to just pick you up and hug you when you are mad

you help him calm down when his temper starts to flare up

he really enjoys doing soothing activities with you such as pottery, painting, and baking

he is AMAZING at baking

he loves making you food

in the phantom dimension he likes to have you on his back

to reassure him that you are still there and safe, and also as a way to have quick access to you when you are in danger

if you die in the phantom dimension he will have this deeply disturbed look on his face

he honestly looked after you better than the doctor did

he brought you home cooked meals, your clothes, some things to cheer you up

he wants you to feel loved and to know that he will always be there for you even though you cannot hear him say it

Taylor Hernandez~

such a sweetie

she is so good at reading your feelings and can tell when you are upset/ when something is bothering you

she has pictures of you two together all over her wall so she always has something of you with her

she loves matching outfits with you

she 100% owns a shirt that says "i love my boyfriend/girlfriend" and has no shame in wearing it

she has this ritual where she kisses each picture of you before bed each night and saying "i love you y/n" over an over until she has kissed each picture

Tyler was just stood in the doorway of the room terrified-

in the phantom dimension you both make a vow to protect each other

and she will protect you with her LIFE is she has too

if you die in the phantom dimension she would never forgive herself

she would think its her fault as she didn't stick to her side of the vow

she let you get hurt

will sob infront of everyone

honestly needs more comfort then you do

when you are on the road to recovery tells you all these silly stories about her and Tyler to see you smile

she wants you to never leave her

Tyler Hernandez~

this one is a mixed bag

lets just say you will be very aware when he has entered the room

you slowly help him start to enjoy baseball again

he invites you to practice to show you off to his team

you are now lumped into his protection pile

congratulations, you are now one of his top priorities

he wont say it very often, but he adores you

and he misses you very much when you aren't around

he plays guitar for you when he is feeling especially loving, he teaches you the songs his dad taught him

when you are in the phantom dimension he gets very angry very easily

he is just so overwhelmed and worried about keeping you AND Taylor safe.

he is terrified he would of failed in his job of protecting you

if you die in the other dimension he would be angry at everyone but mostly at himself

he would close off, he wouldn't speak to anyone and he ends up flunking some of his classes to see you at the hospital

he is very aggressive to everyone else but when you are getting better at the hospital he is all gentle smiles and sweet tones

he owes it to you for letting you down

he wants to be able to feel that he can provide and protect you

Logan Fields~

he thinks he doesn't deserve you

why would you pick someone small and pathetic when you can have the full package like Tyler

despite his self doubts he treats you as best as he can

he is the most cliche person ever

has definately watched the sun set with you

study dates are a must

you both defo have this little potted flower that you have "raised" together

he tells you ALL about flowers as he has alot of knowledge about them

when you are in the phantom dimension he always has this dreaded feeling sitting in his stomach

as if he knows something is gonna happen to you and he wont be able to stop it

the feeling would eat him up inside

if you die in the phantom dimension, he would be determined to be the reason you got better, that it wouldn't happen again

he wants you to view him as worthy of your love, and he would do almost anything to earn that

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drenched-in-sunlight · 4 months ago

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I think to make sense of how Marika feels about her Omen twins, you need to follow a string of:

1/ how bad is Marika’s PTSD?

2/ how bad are people in the Lands Between in general feel about the Hornsent? The Hornsent is very much leading a whole empire that is hunting down anyone they deem inferior, even their own brethren. the fanbase tend to forget that people of Land of Shadow and Lands Between have every reason to already feel grievance towards the Hornsent royalty, even without Marika’s influence.

They were the Golden Order before Golder Order was even a thing (and they want that, btw, the Greatsword of Damnation skill description very much pointed out that the Hornsent royalty wanted to build their own Golden Order under the banner of the Spiraltree, they are just pissed as hell Marika wrenched that divinity from them and made it under the Erdtree instead).

And Marika, even as a God, was still just one person, with an ailing son at the beginning. If she wanted to consolidate power, she had to unite other people under a common cause. And I do think she promised them a world abundance of healing blessing and no death, and no one will suffer under the Hornsent anymore (sounds awfully familiar, isn't it. except that Marika was always gunning for revenge as well). Omens being shunned that badly can’t be just because of Golden Order propaganda, it’s also because people in fact did suffer under the Hornsent and still remember it too.

3/ Messmer, who is fanatical to the point of even though he admits the Tarnished has Marika’s sanction, he will still hunt them down because he considers them lightless / unworthy, who was very much around when the Omen twins were born, why did he do nothing about it?

I’m pretty sure he has no qualm about killing babies, he doesn’t gaf about his siblings chasing something doomed to fail, he very much goes extra miles to torture any Hornsent on his way. So who protected the twins from him? Who hid them from him?

1 + 2 + 3 = you have a Marika who still very much suffered PTSD from what her people went through, she thought she had escaped, she thought she had managed to build a world where everyone was free from Hornsent’s cruelty and always bathed in gentle ray of healing - something the minor erdtree in her village could never do, because there was no one there to heal. But now she gave birth to … Omens?

It’s a sign that whatever the Hornsent once did to her, it’s left a taint forever inside her (yes i very much believed she was under the Hornsent capture before she managed to run away, either via the Mimic Veil or other means). That she never really escaped that cold dark gaol. And for all of his belief in her sanctity, I think Messmer knew that too, that it’s a wound he could never heal, and now all he could do was to make sure she wouldn’t be tainted further.

And after distress, came fear. Fear for the Omen twins, even though she should hate them, she still loved them, she couldn’t help it. She carried them for months and had loved them all that time. That wouldn’t stop even when they triggered all of her trauma at once.

I think it should be noted that in the DLC there is an item that is the same as Omen Bairn item in the base game, which points out that Omen (or in their case, Hornsent) babies with overgrown horns meet a frightfully early demise. Morgott and Mogh both have overgrown horns. But they are alive! They are ! Very much alive! And grow into adulthood!

Who healed them? Who kept them alive? Who else but the woman who used to make several blessing flasks for her cursed firstborn, whose innate power is healing, right?

Before the Omen twins, Omen babies had their horns excised, causing them to perish, but once there are ones born into royal linage, exile is on the table? and again, they have overgrown horns, and still live to adulthood. if they were left to rot in prison, they would have already died.

Marika built a world with a promise that the cruel shadow the Hornsent cast would never befall there, but now… she gave birth for two of them. Her position as a God Queen was of no use if her people clamored for the twins’ death, her duty to them will always outweigh her personal feelings. But she sure as hell would not let her sons die, either.

They weren't exiled to faraway land, they were kept under the capital, presumably so Marika could visit and heal them if their horns caused them pain, the shackles were made so they wouldn't wander up above and ran into civilians that pretty much would call on the Omenkillers to go after them. it was a cruel existence, yes, but it's all she could do for them. she tried her best out of love.

That is why Godfrey never held it against her, even when it's apparent he loves Morgott (as he cradles his son's body gently in the boss cutscene). Godfrey knew she had done everything she could.

All of that above answers this 4th question: why Morgott was accepted as Lord of Leyndell, even went so far as having command over a whole army of the Night's Cavalry?

In the time of unrest, Omens were welcomed in the army, but they were distrusted, even their weapons have an enchantment on it so it could be taken back if they tried something funny.

But Morgott was trusted to command a whole army and held the walls of Leyndell for that long?

The only way I could rationalize that is after she was forced to separate from Messmer, Marika brought both Morgott and Mohg back to live with other demigods. A big part of the Erdtree's power force was in Messmer's hand, now that he was not there anymore, I imagine people would become more accepting of letting Omens join their rank. And because Messmer was not there, the twins would actually not have to deal with him. In a twisted way, when Marika lost her beloved firstborn, she gained the other two back.

Even though they weren't officially recognized as her child, but more as warriors serving in Leyndell army, Morgott proved himself with his tactical mind and combat prowess (while Mogh used the resources brought by his new position to secretly started funding his blood cult, and this is how I think he met Miquella and all the stuffs in that part of the lore happened. Like you can't convince me he built that whole palace and had all that fancy clothes without money or resources taken from somewhere else).

Then Godwyn died, and Morgott witnessed everything thereafter. and the rest of the story, we knew how it played out.

So yeah, that's my take on the timeline and story of the Omen twins. I know it doesn't have a strong official description backup as my theory on Messmer, but I feel like this makes sense with all of my other interpretation, and if you agree with those, they are what actually back up this one.

If I draw Morgott in the future, it'll also be based on this premise.

#elden ring #queen marika the eternal #morgott the omen king #er brainrot #golden doomed mother and son #another 2k analysis of marika and her kids... guys #i didn't even plan to dwell too much into this at first #but so many ppl ask me about it that i feel like if i didn't do this im doing a disservice to the image of Marika im trying to get others t #understand. so here it is.

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ihavethedreamies · 8 months ago

Text

Second Choice | San

Choi San - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~11.3k O_o

Pairing: San x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Actual Plot, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Friends-to-Lovers, One-Sided Love, Sharing a Bed, Comfort

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Precious, Sweetheart, Love, Pretty/Sweet Girl, etc.), Nightmares/Bad Dreams, Tears and Crying, Swearing, Unrequited Love, Kind of a Love Triangle, Kissing, Dirty Talk, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation (Just a tad), Dacryphilia (Kind of), Creampie Kink (Not really Breeding so…), Marking/Hickeys/Scratches, Wall Sex, Window Sex, Mirror Sex, Big Dick! San, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill), Multiple Rounds

Author's Note: Holy Fuck, look at what I did 🫢. This is…long, as you can see. There is about equal parts fluff and angst and possibly even more smut. Had this brewing in my head for a few days after I went down a San rabbit hole. I went through a roller coaster ride of emotions writing this, so good luck reading it, my dudes.

Wooyoung is not in this, but he is mentioned and is somewhat of a love rival? Also Reader has a dog in this, so sorry if you don't like dogs or something…

PS. The middle pic of the banner is Mark and Renjun 🤪

I barely proofread this and none of my stories are Beta-ed so hopefully its not too messy...

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

Glancing at the clock, tick-tick-ticking away, you sighed. 2:38 am. It was much, much too early (or too late) to be awake, but you knew there was no way you could fall asleep. The first nightmare wasn't nearly as bad, so you were willing to go back to sleep, but when it happened again, you just couldn’t. So, you were sitting on the couch, some random rerun playing on the TV. You had to keep the volume low, not wanting to wake San up. He was sleeping with the door open so his cat could come and go. Byeol was sleeping in the armchair and you were jealous that he could do so in peace. San was staying in Wooyoung's room while he was gone, and since your sister had somewhere to be that weekend as well, you were home alone. It freaked you out to be alone in such a big place, never really having lived on your own. San offered to stay with you and you were a bit reluctant to agree but did so. It wasn't that you weren't close with San, you were, since Wooyoung was your roommate, it was just odd without Wooyoung there too. Turning around to glance behind the couch, your dog was snoring away in her bed, laying on her back, legs folded down over her chest. She was so sweet, but she was a husky and therefore made the bed way too hot for her to lay with you. Every so often you would have really bad nightmares and would normally slip in next to your older sister and be able to sleep in peace. However, she wasn't there, so you had to sit on the couch and watch the TV, at an hour where nothing good was on.

"Why are you up?" San's voice startled you, and you spun around again to look at where he was coming from behind you. Your dog's soft snores stopped, but she didn't even roll over from her spot, falling back to sleep easily.

"Nightmare." You shrugged, turning back around and he shuffled sleepily around the couch to sit next to you.

"Couldn't go back to sleep?" His eyes were almost closed and his hair was mussed up. He had worn a pair of thin black pants with a thin sweater to sleep. The collar was very low, and paired with his wide shoulders, you could see most of his toned chest. By that point, you were used to it, but that didn't mean you weren't tempted to ogle him.

"No. I…Uh, normally crawl into bed with (S/N), but…" You shrugged again, pulling your fluffy robe back up to cover your shoulder, only in a thin tank top underneath. Picking at a stray string on your own thin pajama pants, you felt antsy under his gaze.

"What about Cookie?”

"She's too warm…" You both sat in silence for a good minute or two and you tried to just watch the TV. It seemed he was thinking.

"Um, I'm going to use the bathroom…Do you…Do you want to sleep in my- Wooyoung's bed with me?"

"No! I…I mean…" You cleared your throat.

"I…That's fine, but would you mind…using my bed?" You could NOT sleep in Wooyoung's bed, especially with San. You were willing to try anything at that point, feeling exhausted, and you really needed sleep. Last time you tried to tailor a dress while tired, you poked your fingers at least seven times.

"Yeah, be right back." He flashed a sleepy smile, shuffling toward the bathroom, the sweater crooked, revealing part of his shoulder. Licking your lips, your mouth dry, nervous, you shut the TV off, but hesitated to get up. When he came back out, you finally forced yourself up and you led him toward your bedroom. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, your light strip around the room glowing a gentle deep pink.

"You need that off?" you asked him, pointing at the lights.

"No." He moved toward your bed, turning back to look at you, waiting. Swallowing hard, you undid the robe, acting like you were naked underneath. After it fell, you dashed to get under the covers, embarrassed about your thin top and your lack of bra. Gently, he got on the other side and you laid down stiffly, flinching when he pulled the blanket over himself, then higher up on you. Your face heated and since you had no makeup on, you were sure he could see you get red. Maybe not in the low light…

"Do you want me to hold your hand?" San's voice was very soft and you felt like crying. You weren't for sure if you were just that flustered or embarrassed, or what. Just replying with a nod, you turned on your side, not really able to look at his face, but his hand was already up between your two pillows. Your hand shook a bit, reaching for him, and he gave you a warm smile, linking his fingers with yours. He wasn't the biggest of the friend group, but he was still much bigger than you, his hand nearly swallowing yours completely.

"I'm right here, you can go to sleep." He whispered and you let your eyes close, hoping he couldn't see the tears hanging on your lashes. It was still taking you a while to actually fall asleep, laying there with your eyes closed for nearly half an hour. At that point, you were more distracted with his hand holding yours than the thought of having another nightmare. San was always so soft and gentle with you, despite his harsh appearance. He was sweet and was always careful to make sure you weren't too uncomfortable. You knew, deep down, he probably liked you, but you just ignored the idea. It was like some weird love mismatch going on. Your sister was in love with her friend-with-benefits, Wooyoung liked your sister, you liked Wooyoung, and San liked you. You knew Wooyoung liked your sister, but he had no chance in hell. Your sister was enamored with Younghoon, and the only reason they weren't an actual couple is because she was in denial, afraid of commitment, and didn't like feeling feelings.

Still being mostly awake, you had to make sure and hold completely still when you barely felt his fingers brush a stray strand or two of hair off your forehead. You heard and felt him shuffle just a bit closer, not having to go far in your full-sized bed. Holding as still as you could, you tensed further when he lightly pressed a kiss to your forehead. You bit the inside of your lip to keep it from quivering. Only relaxing when he settled, you didn't open your eyes till you could tell he was asleep from the way his breathing changed. Blearily, you looked over his face, so peaceful and pretty. Despite falling asleep, his hand was still just as secure in yours. You wondered what time it was, and as you did, sleep slowly overcame you as well.

When you woke up in the morning, your bed was empty next to you and could hear Cookie eagerly inhaling her food.

"Slow down, you'll end up throwing up." You heard San scolding her and when you rolled over to get out of bed, the clock read 11:47.

"Shit!" You sat up quickly, yanking your tank top and pajama pants off, slipping on a bra, white t-shirt, and a maxi dress over. Your hair was messy in its braid, but once you took it out, your hair fell in nice soft waves. Your feet softly thumped on the hardwood floor as you jogged down the hall.

"Sorry I slept so late!" You called to him, he was resting against the kitchen counter, watching the husky rapidly crunch on her food.

"It's okay!" He assured and you dashed past the kitchen, toward your studio to start working. It was good you worked from home.

"I think it was because I fell asleep so late!" The only reason he heard you was because he had followed after you, plopping down in your rolling chair as you started getting pins and thread out.

"When do you have to go practice?" San was a dance instructor and it was extremely convenient that his studio was just across and down the street a bit from your apartment complex.

"Three." He got up, turning the chair around so he could sit in it backwards, backrest to his chest. You huffed, tucking hair behind your ear again, but it fell in your view again. Grumbling, you grabbed your glasses off the table, putting them on to rest on the end of your nose to get the right angle to focus on where you were doing a difficult stitch. Gladly you could hear his steps on the wood floor; you were able to prevent a flinch when his fingers found your hair. Kneeling behind where you were to get the right height, you forced yourself to continue the stitch, just very slowly as he braided your hair for you. Not having a normal hair tie, he grabbed a stray rubber band from your kit to tie the end.

"Thanks." You murmured, pretending to be focused to hide your reaction. You hoped your head was bowed enough he couldn't see your red cheeks.

"What do you want for lunch?" You tried to maintain some kind of casual normalcy. He hummed and you could hear the chair roll an inch when he sat back down. Him watching you didn't faze you before, but his gaze felt like fire on your back.

"Pizza?"

"Sure, if you get my phone, you can reorder what we got last time." You waved toward your device on the desk next to you.

"Code?"

"Same as the front door."

He typed in the number and you heard it click open and he tapped away on it. Glancing over at him, your eyes focused on where his partially unbuttoned shirt was tucked into his pants. You had hemmed that pair of jeans so he didn't have to pin them tighter anymore.

"Use the 3033 card?"

"Yes."

"Twenty-three minutes." He told you, placing the order then went and sat back down.

"How much?"

"Like eighteen."

"Can you get me the thread in slot L-2?" you asked, motioning behind you toward your thread storage. He rolled over and you heard shuffling, keeping your hand out so he could rest the spool in it. Expecting him to just hand it to you, he had gotten out of the chair and sat on the floor next to you.

"What are you doing?"

"Buttons in this fabric tend to get loose easily or fall off, so I'm having to fasten them differently." You deftly and quickly started your task and he marveled at how fast you did it. Tying the thread off, you stuck the needle in the pincushion you had on your wrist, grabbing a longer one again.

"You're really good at this." San looked at the smooth stitches you had done, even though they were by hand, not machine.

"Practice." You let a small smile grace your lips.

"Do you always do everything by hand?"

"Depends on what I am doing most of the time, but some clients want it completely hand sewn." You pulled a pin out, dropping it back into the little box and continuing. You fell back into rhythm even with his intense gaze watching what you were doing. His fingers messed with a scrap of fabric laying on the floor, then he picked it up, weaving random pins through it, trying to mimic what you had done.

"Could you teach me to sew?"

"Probably. It's not hard. Getting to this point is though."

"Did you teach Wooyoung?" Your hands froze at the question, heart thudding harder.

"N-No. Well, I tried, but he kept poking himself." He laughed.

"Sounds about right- ow!" Your eyes flicked to him, sticking the end of his finger in his mouth, putting the pin-riddled fabric down on the desk.

"Like that." You giggled and he huffed bashfully. He kept watching, getting up quickly when the doorbell rang so he could get the pizza. Finishing your stitch, you took the pin cushion off and made sure there wasn’t anything sharp on the floor, you laid your glasses down as well.

"Hot, hot!" He breathed hard through his mouth, trying to cool off the bite as you walked out. He wasn't expecting the sauce to still be hot, but the pizza place was very close. It only took so long since it was busy for lunch. You let him talk to you while you both ate, and you only partially listened, not understanding most of it anyway; some video game you hadn't played and had no knowledge of.

"I think I'm going to head to the studio now." San had helped you clean up and sat on the edge of the entryway to get his shoes on.

"Bye, (Y/N)!" The door shut, leaving you staring at it. Sighing deeply, you went back to your work, trying not to let your thoughts loop out of control.

Your eyes flew open, chest heaving, sweat pooling at the small of your back. Breathing hard, you stared at the small star-like dots on your ceiling.

"Fucking-" You sat up, leaning forward and rubbing over your face with your hands. Huffing, you threw your comforter to the side and got you of bed. Stomping over to your dresser, you put on the pajama shirt that matched your pants over your tank. Grabbing your phone, you shuffled out to the living room, hesitating before dropping yourself and your device onto the couch. Looking toward the door to the other bedroom, it was slightly propped open for the cat. Your dog was noticeably absent, so you walked softly over to the door, peaking in. Cookie was laying at the foot of the bed on a spare blanket San most likely had laid out, Byeol loafing in the curve of the husky's body. The sight made you smile, and you glanced to where San was sleeping. Laid out like a starfish, the blanket hit him around the middle, and one of his feet was sticking out from under.

"(Y/N)?" His voice caught your attention when you started to step out of the doorway.

"Y-yeah?"

"Did you have another nightmare?"

"Yes." When he started to get out of bed, you tried to protest.

"Come on." He ignored your stumbling words, sliding past you in the doorway, his hand grabbing yours as he moved. He led you back to your room, getting into your bed without hesitation.

"San-" You got in as well, but stayed sitting up as he laid down.

"Just…sleep." He mumbled, hand grabbing the back of your shirt and pulling you down into his arms. Shuffling under you so he could get more comfortable, your head ended up resting on his shoulder, his other arm around your waist. He fell back asleep fast, his fingers that had been running over your hair stilling. Your heart was thudding hard, you could even hear it pulsing. How the hell were you supposed to fall asleep like that? You pondered that question, but at the same time, your eyes were growing heavy and sleep was washing over you. At first, you were only about half-asleep, somewhat aware still of his soft breathing. Right as you began to actually go to sleep, you felt a soft press on the corner of your mouth. This woke you up fully, but you managed to keep your eyes closed, body limp. Did he just kiss you? His fingers were back to running over your hair, "you have no idea, huh?" His voice was so quiet that even though your nose was near his throat, you barely heard it. San sighed, kissing your forehead, you could tell that time for sure. Finally, you couldn't fight sleep off, and fell asleep in his arms.

Once again, when you woke up in the morning, he was already out of bed. You couldn't hear anything else, and when you glanced at the clock it was a little past 9. Getting up with a stretch, you looked to the empty side of your bed. Giving in to your intrusive thoughts, you pulled the side of the comforter he had been using up to your nose and you sighed. Smelled like him, and you hated how good that made you feel. Dropping the blanket like it was hot, you scampered out of bed and made your way down the hall. Peaking around the archway that led into the main room of the apartment, you saw he wasn't in the kitchen and the bathroom door was open. Your dog barked happily and came to greet you and as you pet her, you noticed a note on the counter. He had gone out to do some things and let you know he would be back for supper. You weren't sure if you were disappointed or relieved at this. You only had two, maybe three, more nights before your sister returned. Wooyoung was supposed to not long after that. You were worried what you might let, or want to, happen the longer you were there with San, just the two of you. For some reason, you felt horrible about your rising affections with San, but you had no commitment to Wooyoung in anyway but your own feelings toward him. It would probably be better if you tried to move on, but there was a small part of you that hoped your sister would get with Younghoon, then Wooyoung could move on, and go to you. While you logically understood that would probably not happen, you still hoped.

Continuing with your day as normal, you finished the suit you had been working on and was able to move on to a dress that was commissioned. You enjoyed making whole ensembles more than making adjustments and other altering jobs. Going over the list, you saw you had nearly all of the materials and supplies already, but you would most likely need even more of the right color thread. You could wait a bit though, since you weren't sure when you would run out. As you were rechecking your list, your phone started to ring. Hitting the answer button and putting it on speaker, you put all the supplies on the desk.

"This is (Y/N)."

"Hello, Miss (Y/N). I'm a delivery driver for Blooming Days Flowers. I was just wanting to make sure you would be at home in the next fifteen minutes?"

"Oh, uh, yes." You had no idea who would have sent flowers.

"Great, thanks!" He hung up and you blinked back at the flashing 'call ended' on your phone. Trying to keep going with your job, it was hard, your thoughts wandering to who the heck sent flowers. When the bell rang, you quickly went to the door and the man on the other side smiled, holding a bouquet of flowers in a vase. There were two different purple flowers, some a golden yellow, and more smaller white filler-flowers.

"Oh, thank you!" You took the bouquet and the man had you stamp on his clipboard. He took his leave and you moved further into the apartment, door shutting behind you. Placing the vase on the counter, you plucked the little card from the top, reading the text on the front.

"Praying for a good night's sleep! Inspired by holistic sleeping-remedy flowers: Lavender, Passionflower, California Poppy and Valerian!" You read out loud, figuring out who it was from before you flipped the card around. You had to take a deep breath, fighting back tears once again.

Thought this might help? ~San

You took several measured, deep breaths. It didn’t work, a tear rolling down your cheek before you could stop it. Placing your hand down on the counter, you didn't have to get close to the bouquet to smell the fresh lavender. Not normally one for flowers, this was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you. You licked your lips, letting out a shuddering breath, you could taste the salt of your tears. You had thought he had a crush on you, something small, but this? It seemed like he lo-

"Fuck." Your jaw clenched, the card crinkling where your thumb pressed it too hard. Sniffing hard to prevent your nose from running, you let the card go, smoothing it out a bit. You aggressively sniffled, upset with your own mixed emotions and stomped back to your studio. Were trying but failing to continue working without getting tears and snot on the red fabric.

"(Y/N)! I got food!" You heard him easily even though you were back in your room, the door closed. For the last hour you had been sitting on the floor, back to the wall, facing your bed. You tried laying down, but the comforter still smelled like him. You tried to read and distract yourself, but you kept getting the pages wet. Tears were still drying on your face and new ones came up when you heard his voice. You were so tired at that point, head hurting. Your hand was at your mouth, arms crossed on top of your knees, and you bit your thumbnail. Working for another three hours after you got the delivery, you put it out of your mind, but everything came back when you spotted them on the counter, coming out of your studio.

"(Y/N)?" San called again, but you still didn't reply.

"(Y/N)?" He was coming down the hall and you got up reluctantly, sniffing hard while grabbing a tissue. You blew your nose and he knocked on the door.

"Come in." Your voice was a bit hoarse and when he came in, seeing your eyes and cheeks red, tissue rubbing at your nose, his face fell.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He immediately came forward, hands going to your cheeks, thumbs rubbing over the skin.

"J-just…" You forced a smile.

"I was just moved from you sending me the flowers, then I was reading…" Your lie was pretty believable since your book was still open, face down on the bed.

"Oh." He slumped in relief, and you wished he hadn't removed his hands from your face.

"You really liked the flowers?" His brow furrowed nervously.

"Yes, San. They're…" Your breath shuddered but you covered it with a soft chuckle.

"They're beautiful, and so thoughtful." You played with the balled-up tissue in your hand, not able to look him in the eye.

"Good! I got food from the place on the corner you like so much." He led you out to the main room and you slowly followed. You tried to maintain your normal attitude while you ate, and it got easier as you both joked and he told you about his day. Your phone dinged and you glanced down. When the name registered, your entire body stiffened and you exhaled hard, picking the device up to look at the message.

You doin' good? Is Sannie playing nice?

Wooyoung…

"Is it Woo?"

"Yeah." You nodded a bit, typing out a simple yes, you sent it. His phone dinged then as well and he scoffed at what he read.

"He knows you're lying." San shot you a deadpan look and your jaw dropped a bit, then you cleared your throat.

"Why does he think that?"

"You didn't capitalize it. It was too short too." San stuck his tongue against his cheek, making it poke out. You rolled your eyes.

"Bitch." You sneered, grabbing the phone and redoing the message.

I'm not lying. I'm busy. Grow up.

You weren't normally terse with him like that. He would definitely know something was up. Backspacing, you redid it once again.

I'm not lying. We were busy eating. I'm fine and yes, San is being nice. Really nice.

You hit send and you didn't get a reply after he read it, but San's went off. He glared at what he saw, not bothering to reply himself, putting his phone face down on the counter; he even muted it.

"What did he say?" You were curious but tried to maintain a neutral tone.

"Little shit, just something about not becoming your new best friend." That was a lie and you knew it but let the topic drop.

"I'm going to play a game with the guys for a bit, do you want to watch?"

"You're gonna use Woo's computer?"

"Sure am." He smiled, his dimples revealing themselves. You considered it, then you were going to say yes, then considered it again.

"I think I'll finish that show I started the other day." You told him and he shrugged, going off to do what he said after cleaning up his dishes. You hadn't finished yet, so you took the last few bites, then just left the dish in the sink. Slumping over to the couch, you put on the show and only kind of watched it. You were rewatching anyway…

"Fuck!" You sat up, your heart beating so fast, breathing so hard you felt like you had just run a mile. Not caring how bad it messed up your hair, you buried your fingers in at the scalp, pulling on the strands to center yourself in the waking realm. Why the hell were your nightmares coming back so strong? In the low pink light of your room, you glared at the bouquet of flowers on your dresser. They did jack shit.

"Don't take it out on the flowers…" You scolded yourself, sitting back against the headboard. You did so quite hard, enough so to rattle the frame, and the attached nightstand. The glass of water you had on it fell over, rolled, then fell off, the glass shattering on the hard wood.

"Shit!" You almost got out of bed, but then moved to go to the other side so you didn't land barefoot on glass.

"(Y/N)?" San had peaked his head in, he wasn't in his pajamas yet, so he must have just gotten done with his game.

"Hey, wait!" He stopped you as you moved to start picking up the pieces, slippers on just in case. He was in crocs, so he took the trash can from you. Using his sleeve over his hand, he gently picked up the fragments and put them in. He looked up when you handed him a roll of tape. He pulled a section out and tore it off, smacking it against the floor to pick up any small bits that might be left.

"What happened?" San threw the tape away too and you put the bin back down.

"I…I had another nightmare, and so I rattled the bed frame and the glass on the nightstand fell."

"Another? Maybe you can't sleep without me." He smirked playfully, but it fell when he noticed you didn't even twitch your lips.

"Give me like five minutes." He held his hand up to motion you to wait, heading back down the hall. Sighing, you sat on the bed, feet on the floor. Staring at the small scratch on the wall that was left by your keys when you tripped and caught yourself, you pondered what your bad dreams could mean. Why were you having so many? You almost never had more than one in such a short time frame. Was it really just from not having your sister around? That wouldn't make sense…

"Here, let's get you to sleep." San came in, wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Seriously? Out of all the things he could possibly wear, he had to put on that? Did he not know what the simple combination did?

"Come here." He had gotten under the covers, arms open, waiting for you. Swallowing hard, you laid back down in his embrace, feeling comforted already. That scared you, honestly, almost more than the bad dreams.

"What are you thinking about?" He had seen your pensive face.

"Nothing-"

"No. Tell me." You huffed in reply.

"Did…Did you kiss me yesterday night?" You felt him stiffen, much like you normally did.

"I did, on the forehead-"

"No. Tell me." You shot back at him. San stayed quiet for a second and you could almost hear the wheels in his head turning.

"Yes." His reply was soft, like the kiss on the corner of your mouth from before.

"What do I have no idea about?" He really hadn't thought you were awake, and he shifted nervously before responding. The man was taking his sweet time, and you were about to give up, not having the energy to press the issue.

"How much I like you…" He finally got out; your suspicions confirmed. He thought you would flinch, stiffen up, even hitch your breath, but he got nothing, so he pulled away enough to look at your face. It was flat, but your eyes were glossy.

"How much?" His eyes widened at your question.

"How much?" He repeated.

"How much do you like me?" He licked his lips, nervous, but then the nerves seemed to dissipate. The hand on your waist went up to cup your cheek, the arm under your head wrapping around your shoulders. When his lips lightly touched yours, you at first thought the contact generated a static shock. But he didn't flinch back, instead, he fully pressed his lips on yours. You shivered, easily melting into the kiss. Your hands flew up to cup his jaw, the ends of your fingers burying in his hair. He grunted, rolling a bit so he was leaning over you some. You whined when his hand rested on your hip, thumb brushing the exposed skin from where your tank top rode up. Your hands moved down, one going to scratch at the hair on the nape of his neck, the other slinking under the collar of his shirt, over his broad back. San took the opportunity when your whine slightly parted your lips, tongue brushing the lower one. You let him in, whining louder as his tongue tasted yours. He was over you completely then, forearm easily holding his weight over you, the hand on your hip slipping lower past the waistband of your sleep pants. Deep down you knew you shouldn't, knew you might regret it, feel horrible, feel like you used him, feel like you were somehow betraying Wooyoung…

"(Y/N)-" San pulled away from the kiss, both of your lips starting to swell from the pressure, saliva leaving a strand of connection.

"Just- please- need you-" You heaved out and he groaned. Making sure he was still close enough to brush his lips over yours, he got on his up on his knees, kneeling over you more, one thigh pressing between yours to open your legs. He wrestled with his shirt a bit, pulling away enough to get it over his head and off, his mouth sealing back to yours as he threw the shirt behind him somewhere. As San's tongue ran over your own, the roof of your mouth, your teeth, anywhere it could reach, you couldn't help but feel over him. His soft skin stretched over his toned chest and abs, his broad shoulders and back leading down to his narrow waist. While he swallowed your tongue and moans, his hands deftly undid the buttons of your pajama shirt, hauling you up to sit so he could take it off. Your tank was swiftly removed as well, joining his own shirt somewhere on the floor. He bit your lip when he pulled back from the kiss, his leading a trail down to your jaw, neck, over your throat and collar bone. His hands on your bare skin felt searing, one on your lower back to lead you to lift your hips. San led you to wrap your still covered legs around his waist, his other hand had cupped your breast, kneading the flesh, the skin pebbling into goosebumps from the sensation. You gasped hard as his lips wrapped over one of your nipples, and at the same time, he ground his growing hard-on into your rapidly soaking cunt through both of your pants. He was spurred on by your breathing picking up, soft moans escaping you. As he kissed over to and sealed his lips over your other nipple, he wrestled your pants and panties off at the same time.

"S-San-!" Your whole body twitched as his fingers met your glistening folds, the first easily sliding in, wiggling against your walls.

"Fucking soaked, precious." He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and through your fingers pressing against him. You mewled when his kisses went back up to your neck, full on whimpering when his tongue licked a path from the bow of your collar bone and up to the base of your ear.

"Gonna fuck you so good, baby girl." His low voice, right in your ear, took your breath away, his second finger spreading you open. He tried to chuckle at your yelp as he softly pressed his teeth against the skin of your neck, sucking hard, working blood to the surface of your skin to leave his mark.

"W-wait-!" Your body shuddered, back arching, head thrown back when he added a third finger, his thumb pressing over your clit.

"Gotta get your cute little pussy ready, you're too tight for my cock, love." San's nose ran over your throat, then rested his forehead on your collarbone. He looked down at where you were sucking his fingers in, not able to hold in his mirth. He loved how tiny you felt under him, writhing and whimpering. He had been waiting for this for so long, and he knew you were vulnerable, and shouldn't be taking the opportunity, but he was weak. If you were going to ask for him, he would give you what you wanted.

"Fu- God! San!" Your cunt clenched his fingers, pulsing with your heart and he circled your clit, lips going back to hover over yours.

"Cum for me, sweetheart." He prompted and you immediately did, blunt nails digging into the skin of his upper back, head lolling against the pillow. San smirked above you, watching your eyes roll back in your head as your cunt spasmed, soaking his hand. Your body shivered one last time as he removed his fingers, barely registering as he lapped his tongue over his fingers, groaning at your taste. Your tired eyes tried to focus as he climbed off the bed, figure out what he was doing. You yelped when his hands on your ankles yanked you down the bed, the comforter falling to the floor and he knelt on it, leveling his face with your swollen cunt.

"San-?!" Your voice ended in a very undignified choking sound as he buried his tongue inside your core, filling the void his fingers had left. He wasn't planning on fucking you open with his tongue, but you tasted too fucking good. His strong hands gripped your inner thighs, so hard he was definitely going to bruise them, holding you open. Your body was still weak from your orgasm, so you couldn't fight him anyway. San pressed his tongue against your gummy walls, pulling back so he could swipe through your folds, then circle your clit. You were still sensitive, the sensation jolted you, he could feel your muscles spasm under his hands. Your next orgasm was coming on fast, and your fingers wove through his hair, trying to ground yourself through your hands, his own not allowing your hips to ride his tongue.

"S-San~!" You fell apart on his tongue that time and he eagerly drank and swallowed every drop that fell from your needy cunt, reveling in the pleasure he was bringing over you. Kissing your swollen nub, you whimpered and he stood up, even though his pants were loose, they were tight against his hard cock. Your eyes were glazed over, head rolling to the side, staring at the wall. Your gaze was drawn back to him as he pulled the waistband of his pants and boxers up and over his swollen dick and your mouth watered when the clothing fell, leaving him naked.

"Fuck." You huffed, still catching your breath and he couldn't fight the smug grin that spread over his face. No wonder he felt the need to prep you, you didn’t even know if you could get your fingers all the way around him.

"Come here, precious." He easily lifts you to haul you back up the bed, gently letting your head hit the pillow. The other he brought to rest under your lower back, finally letting you down. Your hips angled up allowed him to sit up higher on his knees to give him better leverage. When the fat head of his cock met your cunt you clenched your jaw, readying for the stretch.

"Wait, do I need a con-"

"Just fuck me, San." You wanted to sound more assertive, but you just whined like a spoiled child.

"Okay, precious." His smirk grew and he wrapped his arm around your left leg by your knee, the other leg spread with his hand on your inner thigh. When San started to press in you gasped with each breath, trying to breathe through him splitting you open. You were so tight around him, your gummy walls erratically spasming around his cock, your wet heat felt incredible. He groaned low and long as your cunt swallowed each inch of him, somehow accommodating his thick length.

"Such a good girl, sweetheart." He cooed as he bottomed out, adjusting your legs to spread you open even further, giving him a perfect view. You were so wet, your slick already glistening on the base of his cock. Your entire body was in shock, almost. Everything seemed to be spasming at him rearranging your guts, filling you so completely and wonderfully, you wondered if anyone would suffice after him. You were already drunk on his delicious cock, and he hadn't even moved yet. He could tell from having felt it on his fingers and tongue, that your cunt was throbbing, ready for you to cum again. He was going to fuck you through your high so many times that tears would flow over your cheeks again, but from bliss instead of sorrow and frustration. He wanted to fuck every little negative thought from your pretty head, drive away the memory of your nightmares. Wanted to leave you only with thoughts of him, his hands, his lips and tongue, his voice, and his cock. He was already making head way it seemed.

"Can I move, precious?" San leaned down to gently kiss at the corner of your mouth, tongue brushing over your bottom lip. You nodded, whining, not able to think to get a word out. He barely pulled out an inch, making you whimper, the searing stretch filling you with painful pleasure. San artfully snapped his hips, the tip of his cock hammering your back wall and cervix, pelvis meeting your clit, sending you even closer to the edge. The next thrust was a little deeper, a little harder and your whole body went limp, the third thrust nearly made you black out. Your cunt spasmed, squirting slick and wet over his groin and balls, core clenching his cock so tight he had to breathe hard to hold back. He chuckled as your orgasm waved through you over and over, and he wondered how long you had needed to get fucked. He was so glad he was the one to do so, and he would eagerly do it over and over, till you were dumb and stupid for him. A tiny voice inside him kept repeating to him that he would always fuck you better than Wooyoung, that his best friend would never be able to ravish you the way he was planning. Over and over-

"San, please, please…" He wasn’t sure what you were begging for, but your high had laid, so he continued. Throwing your legs over his elbows, pressing closer to you so you were nearly folded in half, he huffed a laugh.

"You want me to fuck you good, love?"

"Yes!"

"Want my cock to fuck you stupid?"

"YES, fuck PLEASE." His hips rolled, leaving only a bit more than the head of his cock in you, before filling you fast and hard again. Your already kind of flimsy headboard thudded hard against the brick wall, creaking under the power of his hips slamming his cock into you, skin slapping, grunts leaving him and mewls leaving you. Your fingers turned white as you gripped your sheets hard, worried that the worn material might tear despite your blunt nails.

"God, you're so fucking perfect (Y/N)~" San groaned, letting one of your legs go so you wrapped it around his narrow waist. The now free hand gripped over the one you had up by your head, easing your fingers out of the sheets so they could instead weave through his. San's lips fell back to yours, thrusts growing shallower but no less hard, you felt like he might dislodge a kidney with the strength behind each motion. As his pelvis met yours, he ground into your clit, and you were growing close to another orgasm, and he was planning on letting go with you. He tried so hard to maintain his rhythm, almost having to just grind into you to keep control, fucking so deep inside you thought he was in your throat.

"Cum for me, precious. Cum on my cock." San pulled back from the kiss, and his words granted you your relief, your final climax really did make your vision go black, flashes of white dotting your vision and his voice rumbled through the room as his hot cum painted your insides white. He came so much that his release spilled out from where he split you open, a mix of your cum dripping onto the sheets. You had fallen limp like a rag doll, eyes closed, chest heaving, little whines accompanied each breath. He was heaving for air as well, the emotions he felt from finally being inside you, pleasuring you, hitting him then. If he already liked you, he was truly infatuated then, never wanting to leave your hold or your warmth.

When consciousness finally washed over you, it took you a second to figure out why the hell you were so sore. Your thighs were sore, random spots on your neck and shoulders, your hips, back, and cunt. Everything hit you then and your body protested as you wiggled on the bed, trying to get the strength to sit up. Your bed was once again empty despite having shared it for the night.

"Fuck." You whimpered as your lower half pulsed as you got out of bed, legs incredibly weak. You were naked as the day you were born, and you pretty much limped over to the bathroom. After relieving yourself, you finally looked in the mirror, gasping. There were several dark red and purple marks over your neck, shoulders and chest, one mark even had teeth marks.

"Choi San!" You scolded him despite his absence, rubbing the little bruises and wincing. You were glad you worked from home, because there was no way to cover the hickeys in the middle of May. You took a shower, the hot water washing away many different layers from your body. You winced when the water flowed over your sore pussy, still a bit swollen from being pleasantly ruined by San's monster cock. Getting out of the shower, you got dressed in a matching tank top and shorts, the mint-colored fabric was soft and loose. There was no way you could handle any pressure on your cunt, so you went commando. San had already seen everything anyway. Nervously and shakily going down the hall to the main room, you heard the other shower running. Cookie lifted her head from where she laid right in front of the door, slowly getting up and stretching before going to greet you.

"Good morning~" You cooed at your pup and then limped over to the fridge, your dog whining a bit at your strange gait. She watched with interest as you pulled some ingredients out of the fridge, needing some protein to compensate for the intense work out you had gone through. When your husky smelled the bacon as soon as you opened the package, she started to wag her tail, whimpering.

"No begging!" You scolded the dog, and she was so well trained she simply hung her head and trudged away, down the hall and presumably into your sister's room. You barely heard the shower turn off and the door open over the popping and sizzling of the bacon and eggs in their pans. You had assumed he would go to his room to get dressed, but you startled when he wrapped his arms around your middle from behind.

"San, I'm cooking!" you scolded, trying to pry his arms off of you. Your heart rate had spiked, more from fear than bashfulness. You still hadn't processed what had happened the night before, especially not emotionally.

"Sorry!" He giggled and leg you go, but only moved to stand next to you. Your face was warm and your eyes stung a bit, brow furrowed. Once all the food was plated and the heat of the stove was off, you turned to him, taking a step back.

"San, I think-"

"Let's eat first, precious. I tired you out." He took both of the plates, walking around you to get to the dining table. You followed after him slowly and he pulled a chair out for you which you gratefully sat down on. Then you regretted it, the hard wood pressing into your sore thighs and groin. You then noticed he was in a white tank top and blue track pants, towel around his neck. He always looked so good… Despite wanting to talk with him, you were really freaking hungry, so you ate first, trying to ignore his warm and fond gaze. You knew before you let him rail you into next week that you would regret it. You did, you regretted it and felt guilty. Felt like you used him. Feel like you betrayed Wooyoung… The final bite of food was harder for you to swallow along with the knot of emotions rising up. Your breath shuddered, and he noticed the tear fall from your eye and onto the empty plate.

"Hey, baby girl, what's wrong?" He immediately got up, coming to your side and kneeling so he could look up at you. Your crying picked up then, your hands covering your mouth to try and muffle your sobs, scooting back and away from him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You repeated between each sob that made you gasp, desperate to let out the emotions that had finally boiled over.

"Oh, precious." He sighed, trying to pull you into a hug and you pushed your chair back further, standing up so fast the chair rocked then fell back, clattering onto the floor. San stayed where he was, feeling utterly helpless as you crumbled to the floor. You balled your fists on the wood floor, tears splatting on your skin and then floor. Despite wanting so bad to go to you, he stayed in the same spot, not wanting to step over the line.

"God, I'm such a fucking bitch." You whimpered to yourself and he couldn't disagree more.

"No, no, precious girl, you're not." He finally got up, kneeling back in front of you, but not trying to touch or hold you.

"Yes, I am! I…God, I used you. I took the chance, and I shouldn't have. I…What about…" You heaved for air and he felt his heart breaking. Sighing, he shifted to sitting with his legs crossed instead, waiting patiently for you to calm down.

"What about Wooyoung?" Your voice was quiet, but not only did he know what you were going to say, he had a feeling that's what your issue was. He felt a bit like he took advantage of you since you were obviously emotionally weak at the time. Why did you feel like that? Did it hurt to see you so upset because of your feelings for his best friend? Of course. But he knew the situation going into it.

"I'm sorry, San. I can't do this. You're Wooyoung's best friend-"

"Are you in love with Wooyoung, or is it just a crush?" His question threw you off.

"I…I don't-"

"Why are you waiting for him when it's possible he'll never go to you? I'm right here." He insisted and you sniffed, trying to stop your tears.

"But if there's a chance-"

"Look, I didn't want to go here, but… Wooyoung is in love with your sister, okay? He doesn’t just like her, or have a crush on her, he's in love. If you're not in love with him, you can drop it, right? …I'm right here." His voice had gotten a bit unsteady, his own emotions becoming difficult to control.

"I think you should go home." Your sobs had quieted, but that sentence pierced him harder than everything else. He wanted to argue, try and convince you, but if you needed space, he would give it to you.

By the time his bag was packed and he was leaving Wooyoung's room, you had gotten up off the floor, picked up the chair and was cleaning the dishes from breakfast.

"If you need anything…" He drifted off, hand on the doorknob. You trudged over to the door as he opened it, planning on locking the door with the chain after he was gone. You wouldn't meet his eye, and he prayed desperately that you wouldn't have a nightmare that night without him or anyone else there.

When the door closed, you slowly locked it with the chain, dropping your hand. He was standing on the other side of the door, not wanting to leave yet. He closed his eyes tight when he heard your start to cry again. You leaned against the door after it shut, sliding to the floor in a heap, sobbing once again. You were beginning to realize you liked San, liked him back. Maybe even more than Wooyoung, which was terrifying. Just over the short amount of time he had been staying with you, he had needled his way into your heart, more than as just a friend. Little did you know, San was still on the other side of the door, trying not to cry himself listening to you sob. Your near wails quieted as new feelings bubbled up. You thought you wanted him gone, so you could process, but thinking of him leaving shattered you.

"Please, please, please." He suddenly heard you speaking, stepping away from the door. He heard the chair rattle as you unlocked the door and opened it. You weren't expecting him to still be right there, but relief washed over you. You began to cry again, more in relief, and he immediately went back in. He dropped his bag and returned your embrace, hugging you close to him as you cried. San rested his cheek against the side of your head, petting your soft hair, a few tears of his own hitting your shoulder.

"(Y/N), oh sweet girl." He sniffed, easily holding you when you went limp in his arms. You let him lift you princess style, refusing to loosen your arm's hold around his neck and shoulders. Kicking the door closed, he carried you over to the couch, sitting down so you could sit on his lap. Your sobs ceased, his hands rubbing comfortingly over your back.

"I'm sorry." Your soft whimper hurt him, to hear you so defeated.

"(Y/N), precious, why are you so sorry?"

"I…I used you."

"How?"

"I was upset and took advantage of your feelings for me."

"I know." You pulled back abruptly, gaping at him.

"Sweetheart, I took advantage of you too. You were vulnerable-"

"San, San…" He had started to ramble nonsense, so you cupped his jaw, bringing his attention back to you.

"I'm sorry I was being…" You licked your lips, thinking, "I let my feelings for Wooyoung cloud my real- You asked if I loved Wooyoung? No, I don't. It is just a crush…" Your thumb ran over his cheekbone, his wide, beautiful eyes shining up at you.

"I know that I'm not your first choice. I understand that. Honestly, I don't care if I'm your second choice, or even your third. All that matters, is that you choose me in the end." You sniffled at his words, huffing a slightly sad laugh.

"I thought that there was only one choice, but…"

"But?"

"You're right here." You sighed, your own face softening; you had finally rationalized everything. Why your heart thumped so fast, why his actions brought tears to your eyes…Why you needed him to hold you to keep the nightmares away and why they came back when he wasn't there.

"(Y/N)… I didn't want to overwhelm you, but- I love you. I love you so much, I have for so long." His own emotions were bubbling up, his own eyes tearing up along with yours.

"We've known each other, what, five years?" You nodded, whimpering, trying to not cry harder.

"I started liking you three months in. It was when you went to adopt Cookie, and you were mobbed by all the puppies. You laid there, giggling, and I wanted to be one of those dogs. So bad."

"F-for that long?" You were so shocked you stopped crying. San hummed, rubbing your back, hand slipping under your tank top.

"I've held back so much. Every time you have something on your lip, I want to kiss it off. If you’re cold, I want you to have my jacket. I want to buy every little charm or pretty thing that makes me think of you. To go to Namsan tower and put a lock on with you…" He stopped when you slumped forward, resting your cheek on his shoulder, and he hugged you closer. Your heart had been wanting to break earlier, but all his sweet words filled the cracks in with gold.

"I'm sorry I was so blind, and selfish, and stupid. I'm sorry I can't say I love you back, because I really don't know at this point. But I do know-" you sat up to look at him, "I really, really like you. Will you forgive me for being a horrible person?"

"You're not a horrible person, sweetheart. Not only are your emotions everywhere, you're sleep deprived." His hand went to cup your cheek, brushing another stray tear away.

"Will you show me something?" You bowed your head a bit, face reddening, hands fiddling with the bottom of his sweatshirt.

"Whatever you want, precious."

"Can you show me again, how you feel about me?" Your voice was soft, a bit embarrassed, thinking of what you had asked him that night. Yes, you were sore, but in the best possible way, and you wanted- needed him again.

"Are you sure, pretty girl? I don't think I can hold back like last night." His voice was low, but his gaze had sharpened. What the hell did he mean by that? He held back? What the fuck was he going to do that was more intense than last night?

"You held back?" You questioned and he huffed, a sexy and smug smirk gracing his handsome face.

"Hm. I did. Can you handle me full force?" His eyebrow rose in question and you swallowed hard; he could hear it.

"I think I can…" Your voice was quiet, quivering, but you were excited. Your cunt throbbed, still sore but you were getting hot quickly.

"I need a solid answer, precious."

"Yes. I can." His smirk glitched into a giddy smile for a second, but he gathered his composure.

"What should I do first…?" He wondered aloud, many different possibilities running through his head.

"Can I make a suggestion?" You tried to sound coy and smug like him, but it didn't really work.

"Of course, sweetheart."

"I…" You exhaled carefully, normally not so shy, "I want to swallow your cock." Your eyes flitted up to look at him and his eyes rolled back in his head as he groaned.

"Precious, are you sure? I don't want to hurt you-"

"I want you to fuck my throat, then cum down it." You were building your confidence back up from the response you got from him. Your lips were at his ear, your tongue flicking the little earring he had in, then you kissed the side of his neck.

"On the floor then, baby girl." He almost gasped at how fast you scrambled off of his lap, eagerly and obediently sitting on your knees. You watched with wide eyes as he took his sweatshirt off, then removed the tank he had on underneath. San bit his lip, trying to not giggle as you ogled him. He noticed your hands twitch on your lap, ready to take his pants off yourself.

"Tell me, do you mind if I do all the work?" The intention was clear in his words and tone.

"Yes, please~" You shuffled in your crouch, but stayed still. Your eyes zeroed in on the bulge in his pants, whimpering in need as he once again let his pants fall. His cock was only about half hard; you wiggled your jaw knowing it would end up sore too. You wanted to be sore completely and all over when he was done with you. His hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it a few times, stepping forward so he was within reach, but you stayed still.

"What a good girl you are." He hummed and you eagerly opened your mouth when the head of his dick touched your lips. You groaned at the taste of him, swirling your tongue around the tip, sucking lightly.

"Fuck-" San sighed, hands going to your hair, leading his cock deeper and deeper into your mouth. When he hit the back of your throat, you looked up at him with wide, hazy eyes. As he heard you take a large inhale through your nose, he kept going and your whole body shuddered as his cock went down your throat. Your cunt clenched desperately against itself, not having anything inside to satisfy it.

"Oh, fucking hell, sweetheart." He groaned, your nose pressing to his pelvis. He was impressed you hadn't gagged yet, but you were swallowing over and over trying to get used to the sensation. He stayed there like that for a second, to the point where your head began to swim a bit, the lack of air intoxicating. When he pulled his hips back, just enough that you could desperately suck air in through your nose, he registered the depth that allowed you to breathe.

"Count, precious. I'll bottom out every five thrusts, 'kay?" He instructed and you nodded with a whine in acknowledgement. You tried to hold you jaw in the same position, eagerly sucking on his cock as he thrust, inhaling deep when he went all the way. Each time he groaned, grinding his pelvis against your face. You knew he had stamina, and even though he didn't block your airway each time, your vision was spotting a bit, but not enough for you to stop him. The taste of his precum building made your mouth water, a mix of your saliva and the salty fluid dripping on the hard wood floor and your lap. The slick sound and the mess on your face and his cock brought him that much closer. San smirked at the prick of tears in the corner of your eyes, welling up from his fat cock battering your throat.

"Mmh~ I'm going to cum down your throat, precious. Just like you wanted~" His airy chuckle turned to a groan and he tossed his head back, struggling to keep his rhythm. His dick pulsed hard on your tongue and you finally moved yourself, hands going to his butt, holding him so he couldn't pull back.

"Fuck-!" He grunted and came, pumping thick globs of hot cum into your mouth and throat. You kept swallowing, only gagging a bit then from the sticky substance and he finally pulled out so you could catch your breath. More saliva and cum dripped off your lips, your mouth open, panting. A drop landed on your chest, running down the skin and in between your breasts.

"Such a good girl, love." San grinned at your dazed expression, wide glossy eyes peering up at him.

"You safe?" You took a second to register his question, mind still foggy.

"Pill." You managed to get out hoarsely, throat protesting for several reasons.

"Good, because I'm gonna pump you full." He smirked. You held your hands up for him to help you stand, but he instead bent, wrapping his around your back and lifting you like a child under your arms. The ease to which he did so turned you on even more and you used your own core strength to lift your legs and wrap them around his middle.

He walked forward, pressing you into the wall by the door, cock fully hard again, rubbing over the damp spot of your shorts. Working with him to get your clothes off, your shorts were still dangling off of your ankle when his cock plunged into you. The sudden burn made your cunt clench hard around him and he hissed, still a bit sensitive from his orgasm. You were plenty wet, and he had just fucked you hours prior, but he was so big. It made sense why he prepped you before, and it didn't help you were still sore. But you could not care less, the stinging pain just added to your euphoria.

San groaned when your nails dug into his back for leverage, scratching red welts into the skin.

"Ready?" He didn't wait for your response, thrusting up hard and shallow twice, then rolling his hips to slam into you full force. You threw your head back hitting the wall a bit hard, but you were too immersed in San and his animal pace. Your breasts bounced with every thrust and you held onto his shoulders for dear life. He had your legs over his elbows again, getting as close to you as he could, piercing your core with sharp movements, dragging you hopelessly fast to orgasm. It was hard to catch your breath and moan, let alone speak words, tears built in your eyes. When they rolled over your cheeks, he leaned in to lick the salt away. He hated seeing you cry from sorrow or from being upset, but watching tears of pleasure flow over your red cheeks went straight to his cock. So cute.

"You're so freaking pretty, precious. Love my cock so much you just wanna cry?" His chuckle was slightly patronizing.

"Just go dumb, baby girl, think of nothing but my dick in your tight little cunt."

"San!" You gasped, your next climax starting. He slowed his pace so you could ride the waves, but didn't want to overstimulate you yet, so he forced his pelvis against your swollen clit. With each rolling crest of pleasure, your cunt leaked, making another mess on the floor.

San pulled away from the wall, walking to a different part of the apartment and you protested vehemently when he slowly pulled his cock from your still spasming pussy. He set your feet down, spinning you around and you immediately placed your hands on the window to stay upright- Wait, window!? You gaped, looking out toward the park you could see from the window.

"S-San-?"

"No one can see you up here, at least I don't think…" He chuckled and didn't allow any more argument and fucked back into you.

"Fuck!" You nearly screamed. Somehow, he was even deeper than before, and the front of his hips slapped against your ass with each pound. Your hot breath was fogging the window, even the heat from your palms did so. San's fingers pressed so hard into your flesh; you knew there would be bruises there for sure, maybe darker than the faint yellow ones on your inner thighs from the night before. Struggling a bit with the height difference, you were forced onto your tippy toes, legs quivering as each stroke of his thick cock sapped more and more of your strength.

"Huh, I'm close precious. Gonna fill you up, fuck you full~" He licked his lips like a hungry dog. You squeaked when his strong grip weaved through your hair, wrapping your braid in his first, tugging lightly as he ground his cock as deep as possible, filling your womb with even more of his seed. It was so hot; he was so deep and even the sensation of him tugging on your hair felt so good. Your body eked out another smaller orgasm, helping him ride his out. He was still hard, albeit a little bit less so. You didn't know if your poor little cunt and body could take much more, but your mind didn't care. If we wanted to rail you till you passed out, you would thank him when you came to. When San pulled his cock out again, more globs of cum leaked out of your abused hole, which still was twitching. He smirked at your quivering body, not having moved much, and cooed as he easily picked you up like a sack of potatoes, then transitioned to a princess carry. Your head flopped as you panted for air, waiting patiently as he carried you back to your room, shutting the door to prevent your pup from following. However, when he put you on the bed, he didn't join right away, instead heading for your standing mirror. He moved it to rest facing the side of your bed and you hazily registered the act. Letting him maneuver you, he sat with you on his lap, back facing him, proud cock arching against your cunt.

"Look there, precious." His hand lightly gripped your jaw, forcing your head to turn and see your reflection. You were an absolute mess, but you were too focused on his equally messy cock and the fact that it still wasn't back inside you.

"San, hurry, please!" You whimpered and he chuckled at your insistence, lifting you and slowly pushing you down onto him again. His legs were spread so your knees resting over them were spread wide too, leaving a perfect view of your small pussy taking his girthy dick.

"Fucking gorgeous, (Y/N)." He praised, kissing the side of your head, jaw still in his grasp to make sure you watched.

"I want you to remember this, how it looks when I fuck you, and that no one will ever be able to after me." His words made you whimper, the small noise rising in pitch and volume as he started to thrust up into you, also moving you with the arm around your middle. Like you were being hypnotized you watched San's cock pull out halfway before sinking back into you, so much cum and slick dripping from where he sat inside you.

"You're so hot like this." San grunted, the hand on your stomach sliding down to circle your clit. It stung, overstimulated, and you felt his dick pulsing; he was close too.

"One more for me precious, one more." He coached, then one, two, he came again. There was no more room inside you, the thick white jizz spilled over, mixing with the squirting slick and making yet again another mess on the floor. You both were panting, reveling in the afterglow, and sleep was trying to consume you once again. Later, you were mad at yourself, for not choosing San sooner. He should never have been the second choice.

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

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hihellomy · 7 months ago

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SAHSRAU IDEA

WARNING:Religious themes, cult themes, semi existencisl crisis, Boothill leaks(backstory)

Now listen ever since Boothill leaks dropped of his backstory i hated the IPC, and then i went on to learn more about them and damn. If Sahsr were real theyd be dead by now.

Like i take my hatred seriously, i just started Topaz's quest and i was nitpicking the most humbling options and the ones that were most pessimistic towards IPC, i decided to not pull ANY IPC CHARACTER, Topaz, Aventurine, Jade, Im not pulling any of them, f the shield and f the treasure, and my love for Boothill is visible, hes the reason i redownloaded (i was still very much in the tutorial part) and kept the game this time, and while my saving could have been bigger(i got a bit greedy on standard pulls) their at 110 with no pity on both character and weapon banner, i am getting that mf

And thew self aware lenses the Astral express is debating, the IPC arent perfect, yes, but they have friends there, they DID help places, but their grace refused to have anything even remotely positive towards them, should they...cut off all ties? If it pleases their grace maybe, and they cant deny how valid your concerns are, they are bad people, they have disapointed their grace, in fact youd be happy if they got wiped wouldnt you? No, youd want them alive. To torture them, and then... For their last breath will serve as a suficient offering

The IPC meanwhile are sweating bullets, some of them are aware of how rotten they are, some genuanly believe they are good, Topaz unfortunatly falls into the second category, she and Numpy are reaching high and low for only the best treasure for your offerings, pleading, begging you to forgive their actions, and maybe you could, if she felt and never looked back, burning away what was left, Aventurine's hands better off being choped off, its vibrating from panic, hes pacing back and forth, chewing on his glowes, can he even leave if he wanted to? who would he turn to? what would he do then? He may have been blessed by Mama Fengu but you... You are anything else, he doesnt like the IPC either but he knows that if you could, youd travel back in time and give him the coldest responses, and death threats behind that beautiful, safe screen. Jade, Miss Jade, Powerful and in control Jade, knew she was the most screwed from the three, it was no secret, what she did to Aventurine, her slaves, they held their usual expressions but she knew they were smilling on the inside, awaiting your rescuse from her hands, she knows turning over a new lief wasnt an option, youd just laugh at the idea she could reddem what she did, all she can do is call Diamond and seek a solution, what else is there

Boothill, Ive never seen him happier, he cant wait for hes release, for you to come pick him up, get him a brand new gun, give him all those thingamagics to make him stronger, to better make you happy, you care so much about him, hes your favorite, he hopes youll be happy w ith his trial and still choose him, hell do his best there! Oh he can already hear and see it all when the prophecy comes true, for when that stupid, cage breaks.... The wedding bells... The little rascals.... He already has a few names planned! Isnt he so great?

#sahsrau #honkai star rail #hsr boothill #boothill x reader #boothill #the IPC #Sahsrau boothill #yandere hsr #yandere boothill

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sareenawails · 2 months ago

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ROBIN HOOD HOBIE

YIPPEE OCTOBIE WEEK 3!!

I wanted to make something that looked more realistic and colorful

I'm really proud of myself for this one!

Here's his full outfit

I think I did an ok job at making it feel medieval but I didn't want to lose Hobie's punkness

References

octobie event by @the-kr8tor

banners by @mushroom-graphics-allotment

Robin Hood au

-I voted for medieval theme just cuz I wanted the excuse to draw this lol

-Anyways here’s very bad and lazy plot summary of this hobie au

-English is not my first language so if this is bad please bear with me I'm not a writer for a reason.

-Like the original folklore tale, this is set in medieval England

-Hobie is an outlaw, who with a group of other outlaws called the Merry Band ( originally called merry men but I don't like that soo), steals from the wealthy and gives back to the poor

-He goes by the name Robin Hood to hide his identity( so he’s less easy to track idk)

-Anyways, in this universe Y/N (or an OC whatever you prefer) is part of the royal family or a wealthy noble family.

-They are very sheltered due to the death of loved one (probably their mom or sister)- left their father very emotionally scarred, so he’s very overprotective of them

-for whatever reason, y/n and hobie run in into each other and hobie steals an expensive piece of jewelry from them(necklace, bracelet, brooch, whatever doesn’t really matter)

-This piece of jewelry however holds a lot of emotional value to them because it was given to them by their aforementioned deceased loved one.

-They manage to run into hobie again ( probably because they were trying to track him down and he catches on to what they were doing and decided to confront them) and tries to get their heirloom back

-He tells Y/N that he’ll give them their heirloom back if and only if they become a sort of spy for him. Someone who spends time around nobles and wealthy merchants and can give him insider information ( Who has the most money, whos an easy target, where and when would he be able to find them, etc useful info)

-Y/N is obviously very put off by this offer, after all their whole life they’ve been raised to be a respectable figure in their kingdom. Working with one of the kingdom’s most wanted criminals would be a dangerous, bizzare thing to do; It could get them in serious trouble with the law, bring shame to their family’s name, get them disowned all together.

-The risk is big but their desire to get their heirloom back is even bigger, so reluctantly they agree.

-From them their odd relationship begins. It’s a very enemies to friends to lovers kind of thing (I'm basic I know)

- Y/N sees hobie as a dirty criminal who wants to take advantage of them and would throw them under the bus if the need arises

-Hobie sees them as nothing more than another pompous noble who doesn’t care about anyone but themselves.

-It’s a very “strictly business” relationship due to their refusal to get along with each other.

-The longer they spend working together the more they get to know more about the other's side of the story.

-Hobie learns about how sheltered Y/N is, how they have a double life as commoner and royal, and how much they yearn for a more independent life. He learns that y/n is not as selfish and heartless as he thought they were, they’re just naive about a lot of things.

-Y/N learns about what hobie’s life was like growing up as one of the many unfortunate people in the kingdom. Having to scrounge and steal in order to survive, having to go on days on an empty stomach in order to save what little he had. They learn why he chose to do the things he does and that he and his crew are purposefully painted in bad light as criminals for doing what the rich aren’t willing to do.

-As they get closer they start looking out for each other more

-Y/N helps him cover up his tracks, using their high status to get him out of sticky situations. Sometimes they even help him patch up his wounds.

-In turn, hobie gives them a taste of that freedom they’ve always wanted. Going out and showing them parts of the kingdom they never seen before

Anyways that's all I really have I thought of this at like 2 am so it's not really that good.

If any actual writers feel inspired by this and want to write a better, more well thought out version then be my guest ( plz tag me i'd love to read it!)

HAPPY OCTOBIE EVERYONE!!

#octobie #octobie'24 #octobie week 3 #octobie wild card #october #robin hood! hobie #hobie brown #spider punk #spider punk fanart #hobie brown fanart #artists on tumblr #digital art

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outofconcheol · 3 months ago

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The Sun Also Rises (LMH x F!Reader)

pairing: dancer!Minho x ballerina!reader (afab)

genres/au/rating: smut, fluff, some angst, strangers to lovers, travel au, 18+

summary: sometimes, one night is all it takes to change everything. and that's where Minho meets you.

warnings: pov switches, feelings of burnout and poor mental health discussed, alcohol, swearing, alcohol, kind of a language barrier (Minho can understand but is bad at speaking English), lots of tension, they're literally idiots I can't, Hyunjin being the voice of reason, Kento Yamazaki also makes a cameo (twinnn where have you been)

word count: 8k

a/n: consider this my early bday gift to me (and Minho), since both of our bdays are coming up in October. this is based on the film Before Sunrise. I'm very happy with how this fic turned out, it feels very me, so i hope you enjoy! thank you to Beezy @hobeemin for the lovely banner!

smut warnings under the cut!

smut warnings: sexual tension abound, lots of kissing (too much for two people who just met), grinding, beach sex (be cautious when attempting irl), nipple play, fingering (f!receiving), pull-out method (again be cautious and wrap it before you tap it), cumshot

The night breeze rustles through the trees, and even though it's late, the city teems with life. Whispers can be heard around every corner, the clinking of wine glasses muddled with the sound of laughter. Minho’s stomach rumbles, the warm, spicy scent of paella wafting from somewhere nearby, and he remembers he hasn’t eaten since this morning.

For a brief moment, he misses the food back in Korea – the deep, earthy flavour of a steaming pot of doenjang jjigae from his eomma’s kitchen. He should really call his parents – they’d probably want to know how their son ended up lost and halfway across the world, stumbling through Gracìa on an empty stomach.

To be fair, Minho didn’t even know himself. If he was Hyunjin, he could have said that he was attracted to the abstract, flowing architecture of Gaudì, and he wanted to study it. Maybe if he was Jeongin, he’d point to the numerous shops and boutiques that lined the streets of Barcelona, a fashion lover’s paradise.

But he was Lee Minho – a failed dance school drop-out, kicked out of his own crew because one day, the music had just stopped. And so did he, frozen in the middle of the routine, before he made a break for it and ran. The weak link in the chain. A note slightly out of tune.

The discordance of it all didn’t escape him – being here in such an enchanting city, when inside it felt like he’d stumbled and stumbled until he wasn’t even sure if he’d ever be able to dance again.

And he only had himself to blame.

The streets continue to wind, Minho’s sluggish feet under their spell, going wherever they lead. He remains a prisoner to his thoughts, the sights melding into a blur around him, until suddenly, he hears it. Around the corner.

Music.

And not just any kind – real music. The jovial sound of a live band, so different from the synthetic beats he was used to when it came to choreographing. His feet have a mind of their own, entranced and leading him straight to the source of the sound.

The scene he stumbles into is beyond what he could have imagined for this time of night – under a canopy of twinkling lights, were dancers. Dancers everywhere, twirling and prancing like they were out of a storybook, perfectly in tune with the music.

Minho ducks behind a tree, his foot tapping in sync to the beat, and watches them dance, their toes skipping from right to left as they move back in forth in a circle. It’s beyond captivating, and he longs to join them.

He wonders if they recognize him as one of them, or if he seems like just another plain tourist, happily enjoying the feeling of getting lost in a foreign city.

The circle stalls, the music changing into a slower, more enthralling lilt, to signal the entry of someone new. Minho’s eyebrow quirks when the sea of people parts, the moon’s spotlight now on a solitary figure.

His breath catches in his throat as he spots you – nimble movements a stark contrast to the rustic giddiness of the common crowd. He knows you must be classically trained – movements precise and ethereal, your meticulous form a stark contrast to the fluidity that surrounds you. He’s spellbound with the way you move – a vision of grace, so different from the swift, powerful movements he was used to executing, watching how the music takes hold of you, like you’re a marionette on strings, letting it lead you wherever you need to go.

Time ceases to exist the longer he watches, taken with the elegant lines of your body, a smile pulling at his lips. He’s so lost in his mind that he doesn’t notice when the music stops, until he feels the rustle of a figure next to him.

Minho turns in surprise, and tumbles backwards into the tree.

It’s you. The dancer.

Your doe eyes look up at him in concern, and it’s only then that Minho feels the sharp twang of pain from colliding with the sturdy trunk, rubbing gingerly at his shoulder.

“Are you always this clumsy?” Your lips curve in a lovely grin, and Minho feels his ears grow hot.

“I’m sorry, I’m new here, I didn’t…” he manages to choke out, too drawn in by the way your eyes sparkle with amusement and mischief.

“Sooo, should I call you New Here, or…” you trail off, and Minho pauses, a few silent breaths passing between you before he finally gets it. His name. You were asking for his name.

“Minho.”

“Ah. Minho. I’m ____.”

“You dance well,” Minho manages to blurt out.

The words felt heavy on his tongue, like it’d been ages since he’d talked to someone unfamiliar, too caught up in his comfortable ways. His schedule had been simple. Eat, sleep, dance, repeat. And of course go home to feed the cats. But being here felt like challenging everything he’d known.

“You noticed?” You raise an eyebrow in question, and Minho can tell that you’re wondering whether he’s being genuine or saying it just to say it. You were probably used to it – fleeting tourists who flirted for a brief moment before disappearing into the night, too captivated by your beauty to act reasonably.

Maybe he was a fool then too.

“I dance as well. Not here though. Back home. It’s different,” he steps closer, heart warming when you don’t back away, honoured that he’s won your trust. Dance was a language he could always speak, no matter where he was in the world.

“Different isn’t always bad,” you reply, tilting your head curiously. “What do you dance?”

“Hip-hop,” he rambles, feeling his shyness dissipate when you tune in to the conversation. “It’s not like you, I mean you were–, wow, but I like to tell stories. When I dance.”

He feels himself grow warm at his stilted words, silently cursing the fact that he hadn’t taken Chan up on those English lessons when he’d met up with him for coffee last time. But he never imagined he’d be here.

Your smile only grows as you nod your head along with his words, understanding exactly what he meant.

“So, Minho, what brings you here? To Barcelona.”

Minho bristles, unsure how to answer the question. There were so many reasons, and you were a complete stranger. Did he dare reveal the truth?

“Here, I can be lost, I think,” Minho whispers, hoping you’ll know he means in more than ways than one. “Seoul is different. I think too much. The noise hurts.”

“I know exactly what you mean. I moved here six years ago, and sometimes it feels like I’m living inside a painting. It’s both magical and lonely sometimes.”

A flicker of relief washes over him. You understood him. Minho had been searching for so long for someone who understood – his friends could comfort him, but they didn’t really get it. The paralysis he felt.

“You’re kind. Kind and good at dancing,” he grins shyly, bunny teeth poking through his lips.

“You’re good with words,” you tease back. “You should have been a writer instead.”

“Too late for that now,” Minho sighs, his entire figure slumping, and he watches you freeze. He wants to tell you it’s not your fault he feels this way, that you didn’t do anything, but the words remain clogged in his throat.

“Well it’s barely 10pm. I wouldn’t say it’s that late,” you say, voice filled with warmth, and Minho slowly comes back to himself, giving you a chuckle.

“Can I, you, we, go somewhere? Together?”

Minho watches you pause for a moment, scared that what he’d offered caused you to hesitate. But something about you made him want to keep talking to you, even if it was only for tonight.

“Sure, I’d love to.” He watches your eyes scrunch in enthusiasm. “I can show you some of my favourite places around the city.”

You beckon to him with a hand, gesturing to the shadowy streets. Minho gulped – this was the biggest risk he’d taken since being here, almost a risk as big as leaving Korea. But with the way you’d captured him from the very first moment he’d seen you tonight, he wondered if it might just be one that paid off.

The night air hums with a new kind of energy as Minho follows you through the streets – whereas before, it all seemed a blur, now the city had truly come alive in his eyes. He peered through the windows of every building you passed, watching happy patrons laugh with each other, the heady buzz of alcohol in their veins.

Minho’s stomach only grumbles louder at the thought of booze, a pang of hunger hitting him. Embarrassed, he braces a hand around his stomach, hoping you haven’t caught on —

But you’re more perceptive than he gives you credit for, already turning around to face him.

“Okay, I definitely know where we need to go first,” you flick his arm, and Minho yelps at the surprising amount of force in the tiny jab. “You can’t dance on an empty stomach.”

Minho wants to tell you that he’d never planned on dancing at all, wasn’t even sure if he could anymore, but you’re forging ahead, on a mission.

A couple of blocks later, and Minho is hit with a tantalizing array of scents – the zing of freshly ground spices, the florality of fresh fruits, and the richness of cooked meats.

“Welcome to one of my favourite places in Barcelona,” you grin, gesturing to the wide variety of stalls laid out in front of you both. “Please take your pick.”

Minho knows exactly what he wants, heading straight for a stall serving paella. He’d passed too many damn places with the stuff already, he wasn’t going to miss out on it this time.

You following along, practically skipping with him, eyes alight with excitement.

Minho falters when the kind old gentleman running the stall greets him with an ¡hola!.

“I, uh, uno, por favor,” he stutters, ears burning with embarrassment.

You step in, gracefully saving Minho from his shame, quickly tittering off a huge order to the stall owner, and Minho feels himself relax.

“He said it’ll take a little bit for the food,” you tell him. “Do you want to explore for a bit?”

Bobbing his head yes, Minho wishes he could so badly take your hand as you weave through the market. But he wasn’t sure if you’d find that overstepping. Whatever he felt, all he knew was that the night seemed endless in the best way, full of possibilities.

The loud voices of the vendors and the clanging of different pots meld together like s symphony in his head, and Minho feels his cold limbs fill up with warmth. Maybe, just maybe, he’d come out of this trip being able to dance again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Minho sees something that makes him stop in his tracks. He taps you on the shoulder, and your face falls with concern, but when you turn to see what he’s pointing at, your eyes light up again.

“Hola,” Minho approaches the flower stall more confidently this time. The fresh scent of many different blooms makes him think of his mother’s garden in Korea, full of mugunghwas. He sees the brilliant hue of a bouquet of red carnations, and silently puts up a finger, his eyes darting to you.

The lady running the stall understands him immediately, her eyes gleaming with excitement. She grabs one from the bunch, taking special care to trim the stem. Minho rummages around in his pocket for some spare change, handing the lady more than she probably charged him for, but his heart thuds as he turns around, holding the flower out.

“For you,” he says shyly. “You’re a good guide.”

He watches your lips part in a surprised oh!, and your entire face changes colour when he holds out the flower, suddenly becoming just as shy.

“Oh Minho, you shouldn’t have… thank you.”

You take the flower from him, thumbing at the soft petals and inhaling the sweet scent. You’d received hundreds of flowers in your lifetime, huge bouquets filled with every single kind you could think of, but somehow Minho’s humble gift of a single stem makes you feel the most special. Like he actually sees you.

The two of you remain there for a few moments, unable to follow the exchange with words, until you catch the lady from the stall eyeing you both curiously.

“I think… I think maybe we should go eat,” you finally manage to breathe out, breaking the haze of the exchange. You weren’t sure why it had been so charged, a still moment amidst the hectic market, but it felt like something you’d want to hold on to.

"___?” Minho looks at you, his voice soft. “I’m glad I came here. With you.”

You met his gaze, heart beating just a little faster.

"Me too."

Belly full, Minho follows you again through the city. Anyone looking at the two of you would think he was a little lost cat, following you around. But really, it was the opposite. Something about him made you want to stay with him. In your six years in the city, you hadn’t made very many friends. You chalked it up the the demanding nature of your job, saying you were always tired after dance practice and your feet were sore from wearing pointe shoes 85% of the time.

But you knew that was mostly an excuse. Right here, right now, it felt nice being with someone. Sharing things with someone. It only made you think of what would happen when the night would end, and Minho would leave, your loneliness welcoming you into the abyss once more.

Turning the corner, you spot it. The cozy bar was tucked away on a quiet street, its silence punctuated by the soft clinking of glasses.

Pushing the wooden door ajar, you lead Minho into the small, quaint space, filled with flickering candles and the scent of citrus and spices. The bartender sees you come in, waving a hand in greeting, and his grin only widens more when he sees Minho trail in behind you.

“Hello Kento,” you wave back, and Minho pauses again, studying the man across the bar.

“おはようございます (ohayu gozaimasu),” Minho’s low voice rumbles among the quiet din of the bar, and your jaw drops open in surprise. Minho does nothing but wink, moving to a quiet corner to pull out a chair for you.

Kento comes by to take your order, tempting you both with some of the fine-label vermouth he keeps under the bar, and you watch Minho quietly converse with him for a few moments, exchanging hushed words in Japanese.

His voice is pretty, you think. In another life maybe he could have been a singer.

“You’re full of surprises,” you tease him, watching him fidget with his napkin.

“Tokyo is close by to Seoul,” he shrugs like it’s nothing. “And I like to watch animes.”

“Where did you come from Minho? Why haven’t we met before?” You give him a wide grin.

Minho becomes quiet, his handsome face marred by what seems to be a dark cloud.

“Leaving Korea was not my plan,” he manages to grunt. “I have things there. My cats. An apartment. Dancing.”

“So what made you do it?” The words slip out, and instantly you regret them, watching pain twinge on his face. You’d hit an unexpected nerve.

“I’m looking for something,” he admits. “I don’t know what it is. My friend Hyunjin told me about Barcelona.”

“Well I think we were always meant to meet then. Hyunjin sent you to me so I can help you,” you reach over, grabbing his hand within yours. Under the dim light you study it – muscled and with prominent veins. He had a dancer’s body for certain. “Us lonely dancers only have each other to rely on huh?”

“Dancing made me happy. I, uh, what’s the word, like clothes, they–” he stumbles through his thoughts, but you don’t need him to voice them.

“Fit. It makes you feel like you belong.”

“Not anymore.”

“Why?” you blurt out, instantly regretting it when he recoils. “I’m sorry Minho, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, no it’s okay.”

Kento swings by then, with two glasses of vermouth, rich, and slightly sweet with a hint of bitterness. Watching Minho knock back the alcohol, you see his body loosen up, instantly feeling the tension from the previous conversation melt away.

“Have you ever had a bad dance?” Minho asks, brown eyes glimmering with interest.

“Oh, many times,” you respond with a light laugh. “One time, when I just moved here, I slipped during a performance of Swan Lake in front of a huge crowd. I locked myself in my apartment for a week.”

Minho chuckles, but then leans in, like he’s genuinely concerned. “How did you recover?”

You know he’s probably talking about the smarting ankle you must have had, but you think he means more.

“I walked in the next week and continued dancing like nothing happened, But it took time to get over. The pressure to be perfect can be overwhelming sometimes.”

Minho nodded, understanding the weight of expectations when it came to doing what you both loved.

“I want to let go,” he says, gaze softening. “But it’s hard.”

“I believe in you, Minho. You’ll find the music again.”

“For you, I’ll try,” he teases softly, but you can hear the hint of determination in his voice.

Your eyes met, and for a moment, the air between you crackled. You realize this entire time, you hadn’t let go of Minho’s hand. And he hadn’t made you either. Pulling him up with you, Minho yelps in surprise, barely having a second to wave goodbye to Kento before you’re dragging him through the door, back out into the cold night.

“I think I know something that may help.”

Buzzing from the alcohol, you drag Minho deeper into the neighbourhood, the glow of the streetlights casting a warm golden hue over the cobblestones.

Heat radiates from where his palm meets yours, a soft breeze helping to calm the racing of your heart. Eventually, you hear it – the echo of a faint tune reverberating from the nearby buildings, and you know you’re almost there. A group of street musicians come into view, their lively jig fading away to a slower, more sensual melody.

“You’ve been talking this entire time about being bad at dancing, but I haven’t seen you actually do it,” You giggle, eyes gleaming with mischief. You take a few steps towards the middle of the square, beckoning Minho with a playful grin. “Come on.”

You watch Minho stall, and your heart races, thinking maybe you messed up. Maybe it was too soon for him, maybe he was scared and didn’t want to try again.

“Here? In front of everyone?” he replied, chewing nervously at his lip.

“Why not?” you challenge. “Forget everyone else. It’s just you and me. Two people who love to dance.”

You squeeze Minho’s hand in yours, squealing in shock when he pulls you close to him, arm wrapping around your waist. Leaning into his chest, you inhale his warm, woody scent, feeling yourself shiver.

“Okay,” he sighs. “But don’t think badly of me.”

“I could never,” you whisper into his neck.

Minho chuckles at that, stepping back to dramatically bow, before sweeping you into his arms once more. You move into the open space of the plaza, surrendering to the rhythm as the notes of the music envelope you both. Pressing lightly into Minho, your hand comes to rest in the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

“Tell me more about you,” you breathe against his lips. “I want to know.”

“My cats, they’re called Soonie, Doongie and Dori, they live with me in my apartment,” he smiles, pride taking over his expression when he thinks of them. “You?”

You twirl free from him, dress flaring for a moment,, then spin back, hand finding his once more.

“My mother was a ballet dancer. She hurt herself when I was young and could never dance again. It’s why I chose to follow her,” you admit, finally letting yourself break free from the walls you’d built.

You let your arms float gracefully above your head, marveling at the way you and Minho moved together. His movements were fluid and free, a sharp contrast to your precision, bodies weaving together like the finest tapestry. The air between you crackled, the pull between you like two halves of a magnet.

“You’re beautiful,” Minho says, his gaze intense as it meets your eyes, then travels, to your lips, down your neck, even further. You feel a throb between your legs, sparks erupting across your skin everywhere he touched.

The heat between you was palpable, an electric current that seemed to pulse with every beat of the music. The world no longer felt as big or scary anymore, narrowed down to the two of you, everything else fading into the background.

Suddenly, the scene around you spins, and you’re looking up at the stars, Minho’s face hovering above yours. You lean in, lips ghost against his jaw.

“Am I distracting you, Minho?” His breath caught at your query, and he sighs, drinking in the subtle scent of your skin.

You gasp when he spins you around, back meeting his front. Shivers run up your spine when he leans in, chuckling in your ear.

“Yes, but I like it,” he groans, low voice ringing in your ears, and everything around you fades as you begin to move together. Hips swaying side to side, Minho’s palms settle below your waist, so close to where you need him, and you whine softly. Even though you’re turned away, you can feel his smirk in your ear, and it all feels like it’s too much. Yet you don’t want it to stop.

The haze lifts with one particular thrust of his hips into you. A small moan leaves your mouth, and everything clears, and your heart begins to race. Shakily, your eyes meet Minho’s, surprised to find them blown out in deep pools of lust.

Minho’s shaking fingers cup the line of your jaw, his lips pressing against yours. You comd your fingers through his hair, sighing against him, finally giving in. He kisses you first with the utmost gentleness, pulling back to search your eyes for anything wrong.

Despite the chill in the night air, you’ve never felt warmer.

When you nod no, Minho leans in again, his previous gentleness giving way to hunger, the tip of his tongue gliding past your lower lip, sighing at your taste. You feel like you’ll keel over if he’s not holding you, all the blood in your body rushing away from your head.

When he finally pulls away, breathless and wide-eyed, you feel your words clogged in the back of your throat.

“I-,” you struggle, seeking brief respite from the emotions coursing through you, but not wanting the moment to end.

“I didn’t expect this night to turn out like this,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper, filled with awe.

“I’m glad it did,” Minho replied.

Looking around, you realize the music had long stopped, the band dispersing, no sign that they were even there to witness you and Minho’s dance.

“Do you have to go?” Minho asks, and his voice sounds impossibly small, like he’s afraid to know the answer.

You pause. So much waited for you ahead – performances, errands, the struggles of daily life in a foreign city. But you decided that right now, you had more than enough time to leave that behind.

Shaking your head, you nod no, air swirling with the thrill of the unexpected. And you were ready to embrace whatever came next.

Minho feels the breeze ruffle his hair, and lets his eyes close, shoulders sighing in relief. The lapping of the waves against the shore becomes even louder, the sound of traffic and other people fading away. The sand squishes in between his toes, and he lies back on his jacket, looking straight up at the stars. For the first time since he’d left Seoul, Minho felt completely at peace. Whereas uncertainty scared him before, now he completely welcomed the unknown. After all, it was what had lead him to you.

Minho feels his body heat when he thinks of you two dancing in the square, your face looking up at his, the feeling of your soft lips. It’d been so long since he was last with someone – dance always took over his life, leaving little time for love. But he thinks that maybe he’d been going about it all wrong.

He feels a tap on his shoulder, and he turns to see you lying right next to him on top of your coat. He can feel the warmth radiating from you, your hair tousled by the sea breeze and flying in the wind.

He really wants to kiss you again.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, letting the rhythmic crash of waves fill in for the unspoken words in between you.

“Hey,” you interrupt the quiet with a whisper, like you’re afraid to shatter the serenity of this moment.

“Hey,” Minho says back, reaching over to brush a stray strand of hair out of your eyes. His fingers linger a little too long on your cheekbone before he drops it.

You stare at him, swirling patterns in the sand between you.

“I get it, you know. How you feel. I feel it every day when I dance. Ballet is beautiful, but it’s also... constricting,” you sigh. “Sometimes I just want to be free – free to dance, to live, to love.”

Minho nods, feeling a lump in his throat.

“I also want that. But I’m scared. What if I’m free and I’m still not happy?”

There’s a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, a rawness in his voice.

“I think happiness finds you when you least expect it,” you say gently, your voice like a gentle pat on the back.

Minho had never expected you at all. But he was glad you were here anyway.

“Can I kiss you?” He manages to choke out, heart racing as he takes in the way the moonlight casts shadows against the curve of your jaw and the softness of your lips. The urge to touch you again felt almost unbearable.

The space between you vanishes, and Minho sees you smile, leaning in closer, and his heart thuds in his chest. He reaches out again, pulling you towards him.

Your lips meet softly, shy and tentative compared to the way he kissed you in the square. It’s as gentle as the lulling of the waves, and Minho feels the world fade away, only able to register the cold sand underneath him, and you.

As you broke apart, breathless, Minho sees you search his face.

“What’s on your mind, Minho?”

Minho knows he’s always been pretty poor with words. Chan was the lyrical one in the friend group. Where Minho thrived, and always had, was action. So he decides to show you.

. . .

Minho leans in again, capturing your lips with a fierce urgency, releasing a euphoric sigh into your mouth. Not wanting to push more than you’re comfortable, he wants for you to respond, fingers carding into his hair, pulling slightly at the strands, warmth blossoming in his chest.

You wonders if he knows you can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his pulse point right there below your fingertips, and you reach for his hand.

“I want you,” Minho finally manages to say. The words are strained, like he’s been holding them back for too long.

“I thought it was just me this entire time,” your own voice cracks.” I thought you were just being nice.”

Because the truth was, you’d wanted him the very first moment you saw him. He may have thought little of himself, but he was a vision in your eyes. A masterpiece to be admired, a person to be cherished.

Minho pulls you into him, body meshing with yours, until you can no longer tell where he ends and you begin. You gasp when you feel his hardness underneath his jeans.

“I am not just nice,” he smiles against your lips. His hands cradle your face, before reaching his arms behind you, fingers ghosting down the the curve of your spine.

Kicking your shoes off, you feel his fingers run up and under your skirt, skimming against your bare legs and he your breath hitch, chest rising and falling in the pale light of the moon.

Lips falling to your neck, he inhales your sweet jasmine scent, teeth grazing lightly against the soft skin. You whine into his mouth, hands fisting at the edge of his shirt, struggling to pull it over his head. He slides over you, using one hand to pin both arms behind you, reaching over with the other to slide your your dress down to your stomach, finally peeling it off, and you lie back, eyes alight with desire as you take him in.

The clink of his belt rings in your ears as both your clothes finally finish falling away, and desire pools between your legs. Sliding up against your warm coat, you spread your legs for him, a low hum escaping his parted lips at your messy arousal gleaming on your thighs in the low light. Trailing his eyes back up to your lips, he inches towards you, his breath tickling your bare skin as he leaves kisses on your jaw, your collarbone, in between your breasts. The veins in his arms bulge as his hands come up to cup both your breasts, rubbing your nipples between his fingers until they stiffen, and you let out a soft moan.

The teasing doesn’t stop, his lips enclosing over the hardened buds, messily sucking on them. While it felt amazing, you knew the sun would rise soon, and the time you had with each other was limited. You trap his hand in yours, guiding it to your throbbing clit. He nudges your legs, coaxing you to spread them further, before plunging a finger inside your wet heat, sliding it in and out. Your breath comes out in sharp gasps, your pleas for more being answered swiftly as he slides a second one in, laying his head on your stomach as more and more of your arousal coats his fingers. You mewl, unable to contain your volume as you swallow them deeper, loving the rough drag against your slick walls. His thumb grazes your clit, rubbing it in slow, delicate circles before speeding up, rubbing faster, and his grunts of determination are what push you over the edge as you come.

Breath leaving you in heavy pants, your lips find his desperately, and he teases you with his tongue, his hard cock rubbing up against your wet entrance. You gasp when he pushes in, and he pauses, wondering if it’s too much, but you nod, letting him know it’s okay. He thrusts shallowly, before pushing in all the way, watching you squirm underneath him while rutting your hips.

“Fuck,” he sighs, pushing his cock in deeper, bucking his hips against yours as your nails dig into his back. “You feel so good.”

“Oh my god, Minho, I can’t–, it’s too much,” you groan, rocking against him in an attempt to quell the burning in between your thighs..

“That’s it,” he grunts, trapping your clit in between his fingers, rubbing tight circles until you snap, seeking his lips once again, your orgasm flooding your entire body like a wave. Minho speeds up his thrusts to join you, groaning when he feels himself explode, pulling out and jerking himself off, white ropes of cum splashing against his toned stomach and onto your stomach before slumping against you.

You can feel his his chest heave with the weight of his breaths, your sticky bodies curled around each other. You begin to shiver from the breeze, and Minho cradles your sticky body in his arms, brushing the damp strands of your hair from your face before pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“가지마, 나랑 같이 있어 (gajima, narang gatchi isseo)” he whispers against your cheek. You don’t know what the words mean, but you hold them close anyway.

When the first light of dawn washes over the beach, orange and pink and purple poking out from between the clouds, you both know it’s time. It’s hushed – an eerie silence falling in between you and Minho as you scramble to throw your layers back on, the sticky feeling between your thighs a reminder that it hadn’t all just been a dream.

From the corner of your eye, you see Minho hum absentmindedly to himself, running his fingers through his hair to tame the messy strands, and your heart lurches.

The silence remains as you bid the sea farewell, the familiar streets of the city you called home greeting you once more. Only this time, you felt like a stranger, unsure of where your relationship stood. You supposed the same could be said for the man next to you.

It takes a few short moments before you’re seated at a café, stirring your coffee pensively. The rich, bitter aroma mixes with the salt from the sea that sticks to your clothes, and you feel nauseous. Across from you, Minho was gazing out at the horizon, his expression pensive.

You knew it was only supposed to be temporary. One of those single brief moments where two strangers met each other, eventually passing like ships in the night, both of them holding onto the memory forever. So why did it hurt so much?

“Are you ready to go back to work?” Minho asked, his voice warm and gentle, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Yeah,” you replied, forcing a smile. “I’ve been rehearsing for weeks. But…”

You hesitate, heart feeling heavy.

“I know,” Minho finishes your thought. “It feels different this time.”

“I love ballet, I really do,” you continue, voice barely above a whisper. “But dancing isn’t my whole life. I think I’m just like you Minho. I’ve been searching for something real, something that goes beyond the stage.”

You watch Minho’s face twist, like he wants to say something, and you already know he would have asked you if you’d found it. Because he’d been searching for the same thing. It felt so cruel to have it ripped from your grasp the moment the sun began to rise.

You shared a moment of silence, the weight of everything hanging between you. You took a sip of your coffee, but instead of calming you, the warm liquid only makes your heart race.

“What are you going to do?” You asked Minho, watching his face jump to meet your gaze. “After tonight?”

“Go back to Seoul,” Minho struggles to keep his voice steady. “Maybe take a break from dance, to try something new.”

“Do it,” you encouraged, voice wobbling. “You owe it to yourself to explore what brings you joy. Don’t let fear hold you back.”

The café soon begins to fill with the clink of dishes, the laughter of patrons, the aroma of freshly baked pastries. It felt surreal, almost like a scene from a movie.

Minho reached across the table, his hand covering yours. “Thank you ___. For everything. I wish I knew how to say more.”

You squeezed his hand gently, eyes glistening. “You don’t have to say anything. Just promise you won’t forget this.”

You won’t forget me.

While you and Minho labour through finishing your breakfast, the clock behind you continues ticking, each passing second a reminder that time was running out.

By the time you leave, the sun has fully risen, casting a warm glow over the cobblestone streets. Walking side by side, you travel deeper into the city, the streets blurring into each other until you come upon a familiar one. The one that leads to your apartment. It was over.

“What did it mean?” you ask him, voice tinged with sadness. “What you said on the beach?”

Minho’s smooth voice had lingered in the back of your mind all morning, and you wished you knew Korean, that you could say something back to him. Like he’d tried for you.

Minho looked at you, a hint of a smile on his lips, though his eyes were clouded with emotion.

“I can’t tell.”

Both of you knew it was because it might change everything.

You falter, wondering if you should say something, make a promise to keep in touch, to meet again. But it seems so useless, knowing Minho would probably never come back, and you’d never scrap together the time or money to fly to his side of the world.

You settle for throwing your arms around him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. You bury your head into his neck, committing his familiar scent to memory, wishing it could last forever.

When you pull away, you’re already backing down the street, Minho’s somber expression looking after you.

“I guess this is it,” you said, voice trembling slightly.

Minho nodded, a bittersweet smile on his lips.

“Take care of yourself, ___.”

The knot in your stomach only grows tighter when you see him step away, tears pricking your eyes. With one last lingering look, he turned and walked away, the sunlight catching in his hair.

As he turned the corner, you whispered a silent wish to the rising sun, that no matter what happened, that Minho would be happy. And that if he was, maybe you could be too.

Adjusting your pointe shoes, the soft strains of music fill the air. You stand on your tip toes, gazing at your reflection in the mirror. What looks back at you looks the same as it always has – perfect form, straight posture, the picture of elegance. But only you know there’s something different now, a wild longing in your heart.

It had been months since that one night with Minho, but he’d never left your mind. Somehow, even though he was oceans away, his ghost trailed after you everywhere you went. When you spun, you could almost feel his hands around your waist, guiding you in a duet. When you came home to your apartment, you wished he was there, the two of you laughing over a cup of coffee. Every time you smelled the ocean breeze, you remembered his lips meeting yours, bodies tangled together in the sand.

He was everywhere and nowhere to be found, all at once.

When practice ends, you chat with your fellow dancers, wishing them a swift goodbye before running out the door.

When the longing built to its worst, you always knew where to go, the warmth of Kento’s bar waiting for you at the end of another rough day. Before, he would tease you, asking where your “special friend who spoke good Japanese” was, but now he only slides a matcha in your direction, his eyes sad while he chuckles about how you needed to cut back on the vermouth.

In a daze, you scroll through your phone, heart dropping when you realized there were no photos of Minho in your phone. The date remained a figment of your memory, like he’d never existed at all. And you had nothing to look back on.

Tears prick your eyes when you realize how stupid you’d been. So caught up in the moment that you hadn’t even thought of asking for his number, or any contact information. There were a million people named “Minho” from Seoul to wade through every time you opened social media to check.

You wondered if Minho thought of you as often as you thought of him. What was he doing now? Was he happy?

Sighing heavily, you decide you’ll probably never know the answer.

Until your phone buzzes.

. . .

Minho sighs deeply, his muscles aching from another grueling day in the studio. He feels Soonie brush against his feet, his oldest friend curling up into a ball at his feet, and he reaches down to scratch between his ears. Looking out over the balcony, the twinkling city lights of Seoul gleam back at him, but his thoughts are full of another place. And another person.

No matter how much he immersed himself in his routine—classes, rehearsals, and performances—something felt off. His friends would joke about his trip, saying he’d come back a changed man, like a monk who’d found enlightenment, but his serious expression always shut them down.

He hears footsteps on the balcony behind him, and Hyunjin comes to sit next to him, holding out a steaming cup of noodles in his hands.

“Eat hyung,” he scolds Minho. “You have to be exhausted from practice today.”

Minho accepts the cup, picking up a few with his chopsticks, but decides he can’t stomach them, staring absently at the cup.

“Hyung, I don’t mean to pry, but,” Hyunjin sounds unsure, like he’s poking a sleeping dragon. “What happened in Barcelona?”

Minho shoots up at Hyunjin’s perceptive question, knowing his pabo face was terrible at hiding things. Especially from his best friend.

Whereas Minho struggled to find the words with you, they all came flooding out in front of Hyunjin, recalling everything from the moment he saw you to how you continued to linger in his mind even now. How he couldn’t shake you no matter how hard he tried.

Hyunjin listens along, nodding his head in understanding, and finally leans back, brushing a hand over Soonie’s fur.

“Hyung, I know you’re stupid, but like, have you ever thought about just reaching out? Why are you torturing yourself like this?”

“Hyunjin-ah,” Minho pinches the bridge of his nose. “You don’t understand, it’s–”

“Complicated? What is so complicated about it? You like her. It sounds like she likes you. Why waste time on the what-ifs?”

Hyunjin pats him on the back, saying that if the weekend rolls around and Minho doesn’t have an update for him, he’ll threaten to air-fry him.

Minho sighs, taking a deep breath. He pulls out his phone and opens Instagram, thumb hovering over your username. He’d found you right after he’d left of course, easily putting your name and Barcelona together. But he’d never been able to take the final leap to reach out, to build on whatever had started that night.

But now, he decides he’s done wasting time.

When Minho steps off the plane, the air in Barcelona is thick with the smell of orange blossoms and the distant strumming of Spanish guitar. It had only taken a few messages back and forth for you two to fall into the same easy rhythm. Hyunjin teased him for constantly checking his phone for notifications from you, but deep down, he knew that his friends wanted him to chase whatever made him happy.

It hadn’t taken much longer for him to decide to decide to book a flight, seeing an ad for the ballet troupe’s latest performance on your Instagram story. Now, as he watches the streets pass by in the cab, he feels like he might be nauseous, wondering if he’d made the right choice.

But then he thinks back to how one night hand changed everything, and decides that you’re a chance worth taking.

When he arrives at the performance hall, Minho ducks by the crowd, slipping into the plush velvet seat. Around him, the audience buzzes with excitement, but Minho pays them no mind, his eyes trained on the stage, dark for now.

When the lights go down and the curtains draw back, Minho has to hold in his breath. It was exactly like the first time.

You, in your silver and white costume, gliding across the stage like a wisp of smoke, letting the music lead you wherever you needed to go. Your performance cries with unspoken passion and longing and Minho wonders if all this time, you’ve felt the same way, unable to let him go like he had with you.

Minho doesn’t know if minutes or hours pass before the music finally stops, but he pushes his way through the audience, moving against the crowd to find the backstage exit. To find you.

. . .

“I’m sorry sir, you can’t come back here, this is only for performers…”

The security guard’s voice booms at the door to the dressing room, and Sakura, your fellow dancer, nudges you, rolling her eyes. A laugh bubbles in your throat, wondering what crazy person had made their way backstage, but then you hear it.

A voice that stops you in your tracks. One you thought you’d never hear again.

“Please, I just need to –, please,” it begs, and you’re up out of your chair before you can even stop yourself.

Pushing past the guard, your eyes widen in disbelief when you see Minho outside. He looks different now, hair longer, and maybe the colour had changed, but the real difference is in his eyes. No longer empty, they light up when they see you.

“Minho?” You whisper, unable to believe that it’s actually real. That he’s actually here.

“Surprise,” he grins, taking a step towards you.

The security guard eyes you both suspiciously, Minho in his long trench and crisp pressed slacks, and you in your sweats, the remnants of your shimmery makeup still lingering on your face, before he slips away.

“What are you doing here?”

“가지마, 나랑 같이 있어 (gajima, narang gatchi isseo). It means that I want you to stay together with me,” he admitted, voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions churning inside you both.

Tears of happiness shimmered in your eyes as you moved closer, closing the distance between you two.

“I thought you were just being nice,” you joke, but it comes out a sob.

Minho took your hands in his, and you feel the warmth radiate from his skin.

“I am not just nice,” he smiles, reaching over to thumb away a stray tear rolling down your cheek. His lips fill the spot where the tear had once been.

“Come with me,” he whispers against your temple. “I have to show you something.”

. . .

Hand in hand, the cobblestone streets of Barcelona greet you both once more, only this time, everything had changed.

Minho comes to a pause right then, feeling the weight that he’d been shouldering for months finally lift from his shoulder now that he had you in his arms again.

“Do you remember this place?” he asked.

You looked around, a smile spreading across your face as recognition dawned. “This is where we danced that night.”

“Will you dance with me again?,” he poses, his chest filled with fear and trepidation, but also hope.

You take a step back, sinking into a deep bow in front of him. Minho grins, catchind your hand to spin you back towards him. The world around you faded as you began to move together, time stopping for the both of you.

As he slowed, breathless and beaming, he feels you burrow into the crook of his neck., whispering against his skin.

“Am I distracting you Minho?”

Minho tilts his chin up to meet your gaze, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Yes, but I like it,” he breathes, closing the gap to crash his lips against yours. “I like you.”

“I like you too, Minho.”

The sun would rise again tomorrow. But this time, you’d be by his side.

a/n pt. 2: this reminds me of Collision!Minho a bit, they're like two sides of the same coin haha. As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

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sinsmockingbird · 4 months ago

Text

GOOD LUCK, BABE | Zoya

PAIRING: College!AU!Zoya x College!AU!Afab!Reader

WARNINGS: Smut, Angst, NSFW, Dom!Character, Sub!Reader, College!AU, Bad Girl!Zoya, Little Miss Perfect!Reader, Trans!Zoya, Zoya has a penis, Heavy Cheating, Reader is cheating on their boyfriend with Zoya, Jealousy, Hate Fucking, Fingering, Alludes to Unprotected Sex.

CREDITS: Credit to @sea-lanterns for making the banner

AUTHORS NOTE: Probably the longest fic I've ever written. I actually decided to change the ending to something else last minute, as I realized the original could be triggering. Instead, enjoy a very very sad (slightly rushed) ending.

YOUR AN epitome of perfection in the eyes of many.

From the students at the college you attend, to the professors and school staff, you were a woman who could do no wrong. You were the student council president of your prestigious college, the captain of the women's soccer team, and the school's debate team leader. You were involved in everything at your school, from the events being held to the various clubs and societies. You knew everyone and everyone knew you.

At least, everyone thought they knew you. But who could ever imagine that little miss perfect had chosen the college’s bad girl and the drummer of a band, as the person she would start an affair with?

◃───────────▹

It was late at night, about 1 in the morning. You were laying back in your bed, disheveled and trying to catch your breath while Zoya collapsed beside you, who was equally disheveled and out of breath. You weren’t sure how long you both had been going at it, but it was long enough for you to feel too sore to move.

“Too much?” Zoya’s voice cut through the air, a soft chuckle falling from her lips as she moved onto her side and wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you closer. You looked gorgeous in her eyes with that post orgasm glow to you.

You laughed softly at her question, pressing your body close to hers. “No. It was perfect.”

It was always perfect with Zoya. Whether you were having a quickie, a rough fucking, or even love making, it was always perfect. She just did everything right, and it was only made better with how well she’s learned your body.

“Good.” Zoya hummed in content, relaxing against your bed while holding you close. It was these moments she loved the most where it was just the two of you. No outside eyes, no knowledge of what you did known to others, just you and her in this relaxing silence.

“Are you coming to Chelsea’s party today?” You asked, tilting your head up to look at her, admiring every little detail of her face that you normally wouldn’t be able to.

“Mhm. Kinda have to.” Zoya answered, gazing down at you, the blue of her eyes more prominent in the soft darkness of your room. When you gave her a look, she quickly continued. “The band’s performing, at the request of Chelsea. So, yeah, I’m technically obligated to be there. Like you are.”

You simply hummed at her words, your eyes moving down to her chest. You raised a hand up, lightly tracing your fingers over the marks you had left over the hours of passion that you shared.

She was right about you being obligated to be at Chelsea’s party. She was not only one of your good friends but it was also the end of the year party, one of the biggest she hosts all year. Plus, you were miss perfect and popular, so everyone at school expected you to be there, and you being you wanting to maintain your image, always went.

Zoya watched you closely, recognizing when you were getting lost in your thoughts or contemplating something. So she gently placed one of her larger hands over yours, making your attention snap back to her. “You want me to take you?”

“No.” You quickly shook your head, your eyes looking away from her and into the darkness of your room. “Nate’s picking me up and we’re going together.”

Oh, she should have assumed that.

A frown quickly tugged at Zoya’s lips upon hearing your boyfriend’s name. You both had made rules between you both when your affair started, one of them being to never mention your boyfriend’s name. It was mainly because you didn’t want to think about him when you were with her, and Zoya hated to hear it as it was a cruel reminder that you weren’t hers. She hated him for that.

“Right.” Zoya mumbled, suddenly seeking sleep. She turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling before forcing her eyes closed. She wanted the conversation to be over now, not wanting to be angry with you or anything. She could feel her jealousy boiling, making her seethe internally. “Should get sleep. We both have a busy day.”

“Zoya…” You whispered her name, looking up at her. But she didn’t respond, pretending to already be asleep. You sighed, feeling guilty now. So you just rested your head on her chest and closed your eyes, hoping sleep would take you quickly.

◃───────────▹

Chelsea’s parties were huge and grand. She came from a family with wealth, meaning she had big money to spend when it came to the parties she hosted, but no party was as big as the end of the year parties, especially this one considering it was your guy’s last year, so it was a celebration of your year’s graduation.

Every student on campus was there, making the place packed. You stuck close to Nate, who was luckily a huge guy that was able to make room for the both of you. You guys were standing at a ping pong table with a group of your closest friends. You were cheering on Donald, Nate’s best friend, who was going up against some jock guy that you could never remember the name of.

But you weren’t actually paying attention to the match going on in front of you. You were too busy scouring the sea of party goers in search for the familiar face of the woman who has taken up the majority of your thoughts. You still hadn’t seen her, and it was making you a bit restless. You wouldn’t even be able to walk over and talk with her in fear of suspicion starting that something was going on between you both, but you just wanted to see her, even if for a split second.

“-Baby?” You let out a startled breath as Nate tilted your head up towards him, his eyebrows furrowed together when he realized you weren’t hearing him, too lost in your own thoughts of… Zoya, not that he knew that.

“I-I’m sorry, what?” Your face grew hot as your attention moved to him, embarrassed at how distracted you were.

“I was asking you how you were feeling about graduation coming up.” Nate stated, searching your face for several long seconds, as if he was trying to discern what could be possibly going on in that head of yours. “Everything okay, baby?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I was just- just thinking about mom coming tomorrow.” You quickly lied, plastering a smile on your face. You’ve learned how to fake a smile over the years.

Nate hummed your answer, believing that you were just thinking about and worrying about your mom coming tomorrow for your graduation. She was… an intense woman to say the least. She was the one always pushing you to be perfect, have great grades, and participate in more things than a person can handle. She always said it was to prepare you for the future and push you, but it only led you to stress over wanting to be a perfect daughter in her eyes.

“Don’t think about her. Focus on now, okay?” Nate whispered that more quietly to you, giving you a soft smile while squeezing your hand that he tightly held onto.

It was moments like these with him that made you feel awful, knowing that you fooled around with someone else behind his back.

Nate was an amazing guy, he really was. He excelled academically and was a prominent figure at your college that almost everyone looked up to, and was also the star football player that led the team to the championship on numerous occasions. He was also an amazing boyfriend, always picking you up from things, walking you to classes and even your dorm, no matter the time of day.

But he had a possessive nature, something you noticed as your relationship went on. He always had to be with you no matter what, going to your trainings, debates, and other events. You didn’t mind that he went with you to those things, but it was the fact it felt like he was preventing you from doing anything else that revolved around your college. He’d also push you to your limits when training for soccer, studying late into the night, and pushing you when it came to debates.

He was too much like your mother, and it hurt you every time you were reminded of that.

“And that’s another win!” Donald’s voice rang out over the cheers that followed, throwing the last plastic red cup aside and throwing his arms up in the air in celebration. Nate quickly looked to his best friend, congratulating him and patting him on the back and you smiled at him.

“Y/N!” Your attention was pulled away from the two males as Chelsea came running up to you, quickly grabbing your hand and pulling you away from Nate without even sparring him a glance. She never was a fan of him. “Come on, Serpent’s band is about to perform and I want you front and center beside me!”

“O-Okay-” You felt your face heat up at Chelsea’s words, stumbling behind her as she easily moved through the sea of people. You were gonna be front and center… in Zoya’s line of sight.

Chelsea was easily still clutching onto your hand as you made your way to the front of the small stage that was set up. The members of the band were already there, having finished setting up. Eleven was on the keyboard, focused on making sure it was right. Serpent was by the microphone, considering she was the lead singer, with her electric guitar ready, she immediately smiled brightly and waved at you and Chelsea. Bai Yi was by the drums, her bass ready as well, a smirk spreading across her face when she saw you, and you noticed her lean over the drum set.

Your heart was beating rapidly as Zoya perked up at whatever Bai Yi had said, her head immediately turning towards the gathered crowd, until they landed on you. You only gave her a small smile, one she returned, but you could tell she was holding herself back from waving at you. But she couldn’t do that, after all you both had to act like you didn’t really know each other. You couldn’t do anything that could make another person suspicious.

“Are you really just gonna give her a small smile?” Chelsea suddenly asked, leaning her mouth right by your ear and whispering so only you heard. It made you jump, immediately leaning away from her.

“Yes…” You muttered, giving Chelsea a warning look to not continue. She was one of the very select people that actually knew about you and Zoya’s affair. You had ended up telling her so you could have some cover for you for the times you’d steal moments with the woman.

Only Chelsea and Zoya’s bandmates knew, and you were going to keep it that way as long as you could.

Chelsea pouted slightly, giving you a look back that you couldn’t quite discern, before her attention was back on the stage as the music started. When the first song started, you were immediately enraptured by the music. You’ve heard Zoya’s band play before, and everytime you were blown away. At first you tried to focus on Serpent, or Eleven, or Bai Yi, trying to not look at the woman on the drums.

But eventually your eyes strayed to her. They always moved to Zoya like she was a magnet, screaming for your attention no matter where you were or what you were doing. She looked handsome sitting behind the drums, her hands moving up and down as played, finding her own rhythm in the song. Sometimes she’d twirl her drum sticks in her hands just to show off before continuing to play, and you could see a smile adorning her face as people in the crowd cheered.

Zoya never really admitted it, but she loved the attention, hearing fans singing along to their songs or cheering. She never felt more alive than on stage playing her drums with her band that had become her family. And it was only made better for her knowing you were in the crowd, in her direct line of sight. Her eyes almost never strayed away from yours when your attention was finally on her, and she was making it difficult for you to look away as her eyes just seemed to suck you in.

But every small moment like this had to be ruined.

Zoya felt her eye twitch and her lips flinched down into a frown as she watched Nate appear beside you, his arm quickly circling around your waist as he pulled you in close. Your attention was immediately off of her and onto him, a big smile spreading across your lips as you leaned up to kiss his cheek. She watched you laugh as he leaned down to whisper something into your ear, before kissing your head and turning his attention to the performance.

Gradually, Zoya began to hit the drums a lot harder as her anger and jealousy built up. She should have been the one to have an arm wrapped around you, be the one to place kisses on your head and face and have you smile up at her like you did with him. It was agony for her, a pain that grew every day, making the hole in her heart widen even more, a hole you caused because you’d never be able to fill your place in it.

As soon as the performance was done and Serpent thanked the crowd, Zoya was off the stage, her jaw clenched tight.

◃───────────▹

It had been an hour when you finally decided to leave the party, exhausted from the whole thing and having to put up a front the whole time. You convinced Nate you could walk back to your dorm on your own, considering it wasn’t too far down from the sorority houses. The walk was something you needed, the cold air feeling nice on your face. You felt relaxed, but also felt empty, an emptiness you couldn’t help but take notice of whenever you weren’t with Zoya.

Thinking of Zoya, you remembered how quickly she was off the stage after the performance ended, and it made you bite your lip. You wondered how hard you had screwed up and upset her, if you even were responsible for it (you were). You decided that once you were at your dorm, you’d make a plan to see her the next day and check in on her.

But it seemed Zoya had her own plans of seeing you earlier than that, as she was waiting for you in your dorm room when you entered.

“I thought you would have stayed a bit longer at the party.” Zoya stated, sitting at the chair at your desk, checking her nails and not even looking at you as you entered and shut the door, the sound of the lock turning echoing inside her head.

“I was planning to leave a little after your band’s performance.” You answered, biting your bottom lip as your eyes moved up and down her body, noting how she seemed a little too relaxed.

Zoya then stood up, her figure already towering over you as she walked towards you, and you tried to read her eyes to gauge how she was feeling. “You and Nate seemed to be having a lot of fun during it.”

You clenched your jaw at the name of your boyfriend, narrowing your eyes just slightly at her. “Isn’t one of our rules to not mention him?”

“Heh.” Zoya couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your reminder, briefly looking to the ground before placing a hand on your chest and gently, but firmly pushing you back against the wall, her lips grazing your ear. “Says the girl who mentioned him last night.”

With those words, Zoya slammed her lips against yours, silencing anything that you were about to say. You immediately melted into it, your arms wrapping around her neck before you pulled her closer, opening your mouth to deepen the kiss, something she was all too willing to allow.

Zoya pushed her tongue inside your mouth, exploring it like she always did while her hands landed on your hips, pushing you more firmly back against the wall. Then she was kicking your feet apart with her foot, before slotting one of her legs between yours. A moan immediately fell from yours lips as her knee pressed up against you.

“Zoya…” You whimpered, moaning a little more as she began to grind her knee against the area you wanted her most.

“That’s right, moan my name, baby.” Zoya growled, her lips moving down your jaw and to your neck, quickly kissing as much as she could and lightly nipping at your skin. She so badly wanted to leave a mark on you, but she knew she couldn’t, and it only annoyed her.

You did as she asked, continuing to moan her name and throw your head back, resting it back against the door as you focused on the feeling of her knee grinding up against you just right. Though it wasn’t enough, and you whimpered softly, one of your hands moved down to grab one of her’s. You brought it to the waistband of your pants, silently urging her to slip it past the barrier of clothing.

Zoya growled at the action, a sound that made you shiver and bit your lip. She sounded so primal, like a wolf about to devour its prey, and you were a willing victim to it as she slipped her hand by the waistband. You gasped as soon as her calloused fingers made contact with you, sending a jolt of pleasure through your spine.

“Fuck, your so wet.” Zoya mumbled, feeling you already slick like you had become wet the second you entered your dorm room and saw her, which was the case.

“All for you-!” You bit down on your bottom lip as she easily slipped two fingers inside you, making you feel full. “Yes, yes-!”

The sound of your moans and the slick sound emitting from your pussy as she fingered you was like music to Zoya’s ears, a song she was addicted to. Her thumb circled your clit, while her fingers continued to pump in and out, making you curse and arch your back, pushing yourself further into her. She wanted- no needed to hear more from you. She needed to hear you scream her name.

“Scream my name.” Zoya husks out, her breath hitching as she feels your walls tightening around her fingers. “Let me know how good I’m making you feel.”

“S-So good, Z-Zoya!” You tried to speak, finding it harder as you neared your climax, your gut tightening making you whine a needy sound, a sound only she could make. “C-Cumming… p-please let me cum..!”

A tear rolls down your face as the pleasure builds up to a point it’s almost painful, and it makes Zoya’s smirk widen a bit more as she goes back to kissing your neck. She hums against your skin, her tempo increasing, leaving you more numb with pleasure. But she doesn’t say anything, simply focusing on pleasuring you.

Eventually you can’t hold back anymore, and cum around her fingers with a scream of her name, “Zoya!”

Your body arches into her’s, your head falling forward and onto her shoulder as the waves of pleasure leave your body weak and shaking. Zoya immediately supports you as you collapse against her body, her arm tightening around your waist and pulling you closer. She pulls her hand from your pants and brings them up to her mouth, quickly sucking your cum off them. The sight makes your pussy pulse, but you're too exhausted to act on it.

Zoya easily picks you up in her arms, carrying you over to your bed and gently laying you down. She moves to unwrap herself from you and pull away, only for you to grab her shirt to stop her, whispering, “Please stay, Zoya…”

Your words make her freeze, leading her to debate whether to stay or leave like she planned. But she looks down at your face, seeing you had already begun to fall asleep, your eyes closed. Then she can’t bring herself to leave your side, so with a heavy sigh, she climbs into your bed with you, quickly wrapping her arms around your body and pulling you against her.

Zoya gazes down at your now sleeping face, raising a hand up and gently brushing some hair away before caressing your face. You looked so beautiful and at peace, for once looking relaxing and content while being in her arms. You didn’t have to pretend around her, you were vulnerable and it made her feel special knowing you felt comfortable enough to not put up that front of yours that you had around everyone else.

She wished you could be like that not just behind closed doors with her. She wished she wouldn’t ruin your perfect image by holding your hand in public and kissing your cheek. If she had it her way she would do all of that with you, and maybe it was selfish considering she didn’t care about image. But you did, and she had to respect that openly being with her would ruin it.

For her, keeping your affair a secret was easy for her, but after so long, genuine feelings began to form and she found herself thinking about you every second of the day. She thought of your eyes, your smile, the sound of your laugh and the way you would chew on your bottom lip when you were focused. She noticed every little thing you did, and it was that knowledge that made her realize that you were more than just a person she slept around with.

She needed to tell you how she really felt, because the weight of knowing she had to keep this thing a secret was beginning to weigh heavily on her. She had to say something, because she yearned for the day when she didn’t have to conceal her feelings or hide her presence, or act like she didn’t know you when in reality she knew you better than anyone else.

Was it really too much to ask for?

◃───────────▹

Everytime Zoya tried to confess her feelings to you, something would happen or come up, leaving you to either leave or leave her too afraid to actually say anything. She never felt so weak or scared before until she was faced with a situation where she could finally tell you that she loved you. It went on for two more months, and your affair was still going and was still secret. Now graduation was upon you guys, happening the next day when Zoya received news that utterly tore her apart and left her feeling so cold and heartbroken.

“You didn’t know? Nate and Y/N are getting married.”

The words echoed in her head like a plague, leaving her wanting to claw at her skin and sink into herself and just break down. She found herself at a bar and hung out there late into the night, drinking down beer after beer all to try and numb the pain she was feeling. By 3 in the morning she wasn’t in a coherent state, her mind fogged with alcohol as she stumbled through campus. All that was on her mind was you, and it was why she found herself knocking loudly on your dorm room so late.

You opened the door, rubbing sleep out of your eyes, before they widened when you saw her standing on the other wide, reeking of alcohol, and weakly holding onto the door frame to keep herself up right. “Zoya-”

“When were you gonna tell me?” Her voice cut through you like a knife, leaving you frozen as she stared you down with anger and hurt swirling inside her eyes. You’d never seen her so… broken, and that’s how you knew that this was about.

“I’m sorry…” Was all you could say back in response as tears welled up in your eyes, your hands beginning to shake along with your whole body.

“Engaged?” Zoya stated, looking at you with pure hurt as she leaned slightly towards you. “You didn’t tell me…”

You remembered when Nate had proposed to you a couple days ago. It was when you were at dinner with both of your families, celebrating the final debate you participated in. Suddenly Nate had dropped down onto one knee in front of you, holding out a ring and asking the words, “Will you marry me?”

How were you supposed to say no when you felt everyone’s eyes on you, when you felt your mother’s eyes on you. The weight of maintaining the image of the perfect daughter, the expectations, and the pressure of the entire situation weighed heavily on your shoulders, leading you to saying yes.

You didn’t keep it a secret that you were engaged to him now. You were planning to tell Zoya, you really were, but you had been so busy that week that you weren’t able to find time to meet with her. But you didn’t want her to find out this way, because it now leads Zoya to your dorm room, alcohol heavy on her and intoxication clear in her glassy eyes.

“I did everything you wanted!” Zoya suddenly yelled, her voice cracking in anger and pain. “I followed your stupid rules, your demands. I stayed away from you when you asked me to just to keep our-” She stopped, letting out a laugh and looking away with a shake of her head, stopping herself from uttering the word “relationship.”

As far as Zoya knew, you weren’t even a couple, just two people who fucked.

You had your head hung low, staring at the ground while Zoya entered your dorm, beginning to pace back and forth while you quietly shut the door. She was muttering some things to herself, tugging at her hair before suddenly punching the wall. The hit made you jump and squeeze your eyes shut, tears falling freely down your face.

Zoya’s anger was justified, which is why you didn’t stop her as her fist collided with the wall until there was a hole. You wanted to stop her, in fear of her hurting herself, but you just couldn’t. All you could do was stand there in your guilt.

“Y-You know. I played along… to have you.” Zoya whimpered out, leaning her head against the wall, tears welling up in her eyes as her anger was quenched for now. Her hand ached, shaking in pain at her side, her knuckles split open and bleeding, but she paid no attention to it.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, her confession cutting into your heart like a knife, leaving you shaking uncontrollably, tears falling rapidly down your face. The guilt was prominent inside your body, eating away at you.

“I just wanted you to be mine.” Zoya whispered, tears falling from her eyes as she turned towards you slowly. “I love you.”

There it is, those three words that held so much pointless weight in the end. It left you gasping for air between your sobs, your head snapping up to Zoya and staring at her with wide eyes. You always hoped to hear her say them, but you knew you shouldn’t have, knowing it wouldn’t make you change the secrecy of your affair. In the end it wouldn’t change anything, just like how it won’t change anything now.

Zoya then approached you, and with every step she took, you took a step to retreat, until your back hit the wall and she was quick to cage you in between her arms. “But you were never mine to begin with.” She gives you a sad smile, finally coming to terms with that fact. The engagement ring on your finger was proof of it, after all. “Now I have to live with that fact…”

You looked away from her, wrapping your arms around yourself in a protective manner, while trying to make yourself look small. Zoya raised a hand up, gently dragging your chin and tilting your head up until you had no choice but to look at her. She was crying, just like you, and the knowledge of knowing that you were the reason behind her tears made you whimper.

When your attention was on her, she grabbed your one hand and slipped your engagement ring off of your finger, examining it. “Engaged…” She whispered softly, finally letting that fact register in her head.

Then Zoya dropped the ring, letting it fall to the ground, and before you could process it, her lips were on yours. Her lips were soft, feeling familiar and bringing a warmth to your chest that you knew you didn’t deserve. You kissed one another like you were the only reason for each other breathing. You kissed her like this was the end… because it was.

One final night with one another couldn’t hurt, right? Just a night to say goodbye.

Finding yourself back on your bed, naked with Zoya on top of you left you feeling numb with pain. Your mind was only filled with her. The feeling of her body against yours, her lips on your neck, while her hips moved against yours. It was the same like all those other nights you both spent together, except it was different because this was the end.

When you both reached your peak, with Zoya releasing inside you, you felt complete for the first time in your life, but that feeling wasn’t going to last after this. Zoya had her head resting on your chest, listening to the sound of your gradually calming heartbeat, her arms circled around your waist. Your hands moved through her hair as you stared up at the ceiling of your dorm, tears rolling down your face.

You eventually fell asleep, and once you were, Zoya forced herself out of your bed. She grabbed her clothes and slowly got dressed, running a hand through her hair before looking back at your sleeping form. Her feet moved on her own as she crouched down beside your bed, reaching a hand out to tuck some hair behind your ear, before leaning forward and placing one final kiss onto your lips, murmuring a few final words before getting up and leaving, never looking back.

“Good luck, babe.”

ENDING NOTES: So, one question. Part 2?

#*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟsins writings #path to nowhere #ptn smut #ptn angst #zoya #ptn!zoya #dom!zoya #zoya x reader #zoya x you #good luck babe

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chrrychills · 4 months ago

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hi!!! i was wondering if you could write about reader saving the sbg characters from getting a major injury but getting hurt in the process?

you're gonna be the one that saves me .

main six « s/o getting injured!

ashlyn banner:

•she's immediately by your side, scolding you, trying to stop the bleeding and minimizing the pain.

•"why would you do that– you're bleeding!"

•she's so worried, her guilt is practically insurmountable. she's supposed to protect everyone and keep them safe– keep you safe. and now you're injured because of her.

•she literally will not leave your side until she knows you're okay. if it's a particularly grotesque injury, she's the first to kick into action like how she did when they found tyler impaled.

•you're gonna have to reassure her that it isn't her fault– you got injured because of your own decisions. there's a good chance she'll still be blaming herself, though.

•expect apologies. a lot of them. even if she knows, logically, that it isn't her fault, knowing you got injured protecting her made her heart shatter.

•scolds you every time you try to do anything physically taxing. she forces you to rest until your injury heals.

aiden clark:

•he's trying not to show it, but he's freaking out internally. he'll scold you too, but in a much more lighthearted way in comparison to ashlyn.

•"why are you going and getting yourself hurt? i'm durable, you know that. i would've been fine."

•holding you the entire time. ben's the only one he trusts to patch you up, and even then he's sitting right next to you, squeezing your hand tighter than usual.

•after you're patched up, he's still checking on you constantly. it would be annoying if you didn't know how worried he was.

•he's a lot more protective over you until you're healed. even after your injury's healed, he's still trying his best to keep you out of harm's way.

•although he never explicitly states it, you can tell how scared he was watching you get hurt. he would've started spiraling if he wasn't so focused on you.

•100% teases you about it once you're okay again. he loves you, but he also loves annoying you.

ben clark:

•his first instinct is white, hot rage. but seeing you, covering in blood, shaking and in pain makes that urge dissipate. he's immediately by your side, trying to calm you down as best he can.

•he's amazing with first aid, so he's the one patching you up. his hands are shaky and kind of unstable as he does it, though. the sight of you with such a bad injury makes him nauseous.

•he's so guilt-ridden. no matter how many times you reassure him that you're okay and it isn't his fault, there's still a pit in his stomach that seems like it's never gonna go away.

•he's a lot more doting and caring. not that he wasn't already, but it's increased tenfold now that you're injured. you're tired? sleep on his shoulder. your legs hurt from walking? piggyback ride. you're hungry/thirsty? he has your favorite food and a bottle of water in his bag.

•ben has a very comforting presence, so it's hard to freak out when he's around. even though you're hurt, you're much more focused on him than the pain.

•probably gets you flowers/ a small gift to communicate how sorry he is.

tyler hernandez:

•at first, he just kind of stares at you. he's in shock and trying to process what the fuck just happened.

•after it registers, though, he's glued to your side. he's lowkey yelling at you, putting pressure on the wound and snapping at anyone who tried to help.

•"you idiot! why would you do that?!"

•he doesn't mean it, he's just worried. he's been super overprotective of you from the get-go, so watching you get injured makes him feel like he failed to protect you.

•everyone has to fight to get him to let up and allow ben to bandage your injury.

•doesn't let you leave his sight for weeks after that. just the thought of you getting injured that badly again is enough to send him into a paranoid fit.

•he's already clingy in private, but that increases tenfold. he's practically smothering you whenever he gets the chance. there's also the quiet, whispered apologies you can barely hear.

taylor hernandez:

•she's surprisingly calm. logically, she knows panicking isn't gonna help you in any way, so she buries the fear and addresses it later, when you're bandaged up and safe.

•like ben, taylor has a very comforting presence, so everyone trusts her to calm you down and keep you distracted from the pain.

•taylor has some pretty good first aid knowledge, so she'll help patch you up and make sure the wound doesn't get infected.

•after everything's said and done, she'll finally let her emotions catch up to her and break down. she holding you and crying, telling you how sorry she is and that she never wanted you to get hurt.

•just console her, reassure her it isn't her fault and you're glad she's okay and uninjured. she needs the reassurance.

•isn't very overprotective after because she knows you can handle yourself, but she will check on you to make sure you're doing okay.

logan fields:

•logan can't do much in terms of first aid, but he can be there for moral support! granted, he probably needs the support more than you do with the way he's freaking out, but the thought is still there.

•a lot of apologies while you're getting patched up. tyler has to tell him to cut it out because he's stressing you out for him to stop apologizing and help calm you down.

•once he's calmed down, he's actually really helpful and comforting. he's grabbing you whatever you need and staying by your side if you ask.

•after you're all bandaged up, he'll give you a lecture (which is hardly a lecture and more of a worried ramble) about how you shouldn't be putting yourself in danger so recklessly.

•doesn't let you do much of anything while you're recovering. he doesn't want you to overexert yourself and end up making the wound worse.

lacey's notes: three posts in a row i'm on a roll rn

...what if i said i'm debating on not writing for logan anymore 😁. how much would u guys not like that😁.

IDK HOW TO WRITE HIM (also i lowkey don't like him as much as the others sorry)

title inspiration:

#sbg #sbg x reader #x reader #sbg ashlyn #ashlyn banner x reader #sbg aiden #aiden clark x reader #sbg ben #ben clark x reader #sbg tyler #tyler hernandez x reader #sbg taylor #taylor hernandez x reader #sbg logan #logan fields x reader

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fandomtherapy44 · 6 months ago

Text

Congrats you're a dad! Dean x reader one shot!

Summary: Dean Winchester the man who came and went that seemed like in a blink of an eye. But he left some thing behind your Daughter.

Paring: Dean x reader

word count: 2.4k

Divider from

Firefly Graphics

Reblog Banner and 18+ Banner From

cafekitsune

Warnings: swearing, MILD SMUT, Feelings all around

AN/ So I got very inspired by seeing posts of how Dean deserved to be a dad! Here is my story of that and this would take place after season 15 so he is alive and happy! Hope you enjoy!

Six Years since I last saw Dean Winchester, the man that came and left in an blink of an eye. The charming yet somewhat earnest type that I always fell for helped that he was hot as hell. Those crystal green eyes, white prince smile, glitter freckle kissed skin that almost made you believe in miracles. I was the waitress at the restaurant where he and his partner went every night while they were in town trying to find a missing person and thankfully they did but with that came a goodbye. But he did leave me with something, not an std but our daughter.

I wanted to tell him so many times but how was I supposed to tell this barely a familiar hook up that he had a kid. When he left he told me that he liked me and maybe if he was staying around we could try something but he wasn't. I found out I was pregnant with Bella two weeks later. So was I really going to tell a guy I didn't even really know that he was a dad and potentially ruin his career and break my heart if he told me to screw off. The answer was no.

So here I was six years later with the best little girl in the world and trying my best. “Hey mom could you please pick Bella up? I have to pick up this shift.” I was balancing my phone between my shoulder and ear while my hands were full of plates of food while I was widing through the sticky tables. “Of course sweetie I'll see you at eight.” My mom has been my biggest supporter since the day I was pregnant.”Ok thank you so much love you bye oh and don’t let her eat so much ice cream again she threw up all over the couch last time.” “I'm her grandma, I'm supposed to spoil her.” “Bye Mom.” I said in a loving jokey way.

It was almost seven thirty when I was walking up to my table and had just gotten satten. I was carrying two glasses of water to the table when I heard a voice that I thought I would never hear again. “Oh Hey Y/n right? You're still working here, that's cool.” I look up and drop the water. It was Dean fucking Winchester. “Whoa you okay?” he swooped down to help pick up the pieces of now broken glasses. I can’t even look at him. “Hey Y/n” He grabbed my hand I didn’t realize but it was bleeding. “Are you okay?” I barely get a word out. “Hey can I get a towel or bandaid please!?”

He called out and a co-worker ran over. “Is she okay?” “Dean, I'm fine.” My friend’s eyes widened knowing that name. “Uh, why don't you take a break? I'll bring more waters” I begged with my body for her to stay but she ignored me knowing that was not her place. We sat down in the booth. I kept staring at my bloody hand hoping it was a terrible nightmare but then he spoke again.

“I know it's been a while since I've been here but I swear that I had good reason to. I had to take care of something that took longer than expected. I wanted to come back. I've missed this place, you.” My heart flutters a little. “It’s okay not like you had something to come back to.” I know that’s a little harsh but I was trying to drive him away as quickly as possible. “Well you're here and I don’t know about you but I had an amazing time when I was last here.”

My head flashed back to that night the last night he was here we were together for hours in the sheets. It wasn't just sex but we talked about our hopes and dreams. Maybe that's why I wanted to talk to him a little longer. “I guess you're right it wasn’t half bad.” I smirked. “Half Bad? Excuse me but I believe you were the one begging for more-” Before he can go on I kick him. “Fine, you were great, happy.”

“Very happy, hey did you ever go to college for acting.” what? He remembered my dream not even boyfriends who had been with me for a long time remembered that. “I can't believe you still know that.” “How could I forget, your face lit up talking about it every time.” We both smiled thinking about those times. But the air froze when we heard another voice. “Mommy! I can’t wait to show you my drawing!” Bella ran over and jumped in my lap. I looked at the clock and it was eight fifteen, shit.

“Oh, baby I'm sure it's so beautiful I'll look at home okay.” “But Mommy!” I started to try to get up but being a six year old she was dragging her feet. “But Momma!” “Bella! Let's go!” I hated it when my yelling voice came out. I finally looked at Dean and he looked like he had been slapped in the face. “Hey mister, would you like to see?” She asked Dean kindly like I had taught her. “Bella he's busy-” “I would love to.” She pulled out a picture and it was a drawing of a family.

“You see that's me and mommy and that's grandma.” He nods looking out the picture. “It's really good, Hey do you have a daddy Bella?” He asked the question I had been fearing. “No, I don’t.” She answered so quickly and without thought it broke my heart. “And how old are you Bella?” “I’m this many” She holds up six fingers. Dean just sits there thinking. “Bella, could you go back to your grandma?” She seems sad. “You can get ice cream!” I tried. Of course, she jumps up and runs to the counter. I sit back down at the booth sighing. “Dean I-” he holds up his hand with tears in his eyes. “I just have one question. Is she my daughter?” “Yes.”

It had been at least twenty minutes. I broke the ice. “Dean, I don't even know where to start.” “How about you start why you kept my fucking child away from me?” He was mad of course who wouldn't be. “Dean you have to understand why I did it, I didn't tell you because I knew what kind of job you had and that you couldn't just drop everything. I mean you told me you couldn't stay.” “You don't think my kid would change that!?” I had tears building up.

“I didn't know you Dean, I didn't want a guy to tell me to screw off that I was just starting to really like and that I knew you just couldn't stay.” He’s silent again. “I want to know her.” I'm a little shocked. “Dean I know it was fucked up of me to keep this from you but you can't just go away because of a job or something that needs you for weeks I won't allow Bella to be hurt like that.” He did not hesitant “I won’t.”

And from there on out it was kind of nice. We had set up a system where Bella could spend time with Dean so we didn't freak her out when we told her. I could really see both of them loving each other. I met his brother and he was very surprised to hear he had a niece. Bella loved spending time with both of them. It had been a couple of months. The more time we all spent together the more my heart became comfortable with Dean around, that’s what terrified me.

We were eating Chinese food with Bella and for the first time I felt like we had a family but then his damn phone rang. He checked the name and I saw his face fall a little from his previous smile but he was keeping it together for us. “Uh hey, what’s up?” I couldn't hear everything but I did hear the level of the voice and it was not calm.

“Yeah, I'll be there.” He responded back. He hangs up and looks at me. “Dean no no you promised-” “I know I did and trust me I don’t want to go but I have to. This friend needs me.” We need you, I need you but of course, I didn't say that out loud. He gets up to get his things and bends down to Bella’s level. “Hey Bells, I'll be back in a little.” She clearly doesn't want him to go. “But we were going to play barbies after dinner.” She whined in true six-year-old fashion.

“I know and promise as soon as I get back we will and I'll bring back a new Barbie friend how about that.” She leaps in his arms. “Yay! Thank you, Dean, I love you.” Dean and I both got stiff at that it was the first I love you between them. He squeezes her harder at that. “I love you too Bella.” He lets go and goes to the front door and I follow.

“How long are you going to be gone?” “I honestly don't know Y/n I wished I did.” At that, I got angry he fucking promised. “Dean, what kind of Job do you have that you don’t know when you'll be home!?” He put his hands on the sides of my face. “I will tell you everything when I get home.” He saw my uneasy face. He leans down I think for a kiss but not where I was expecting. It was my forehead, a slow caring one. “You have no idea what you guys mean to me. I will come back and explain everything.” With that, he leaves.

I put Bella to bed hours ago and it was five in the morning but I couldn't go to bed not knowing he was safe. Finally, the door creaks open but very quietly. It was Dean but he looked like he walked through Hell. “Hey, what are you still doing up?” I sip my coffee not really having the anger anymore but being replaced with worry. That’s when I knew I was in deep shit I was falling in love with Dean Winchester. “I couldn't sleep not knowing you were safe.” There is just silence between us. I look up and can't hold back anymore and run into his safe arms. We are like this for like two minutes. “I think it’s time I tell you what I really did, you might want to sit down for this.”

“So you're saying everything I've ever told Bella was fake is real.” “Yes” “And God, Angels, the Devil, Demons, are real.” “Yup and actually an Angel is one of my best friends.” I gulp the rest of my coffee down, maybe thinking this was a dream and I would wake but no this was real. “Okay, I somehow believe you.” “Really some people call Sam and me crazy when we have to tell them.” “Well, I know both you and Sam and you're not liars.” “Thank you.” “No problem.” I break the ice once more. “So that’s why you had to leave to help someone.”

“Yeah, an old friend was going to a vamp nest.” He looked down at my confused face. “Sorry, I'll explain all the monster lore another time.” “A vamp nest sounds dangerous Dean.” “it is.” I let out what I was thinking the whole night. “Dean I don't want to tell you what to do but you can't just go out anymore like that not when you have a kid now and not when I- '' I was stopped by his lips on mine and it was like nothing changed. We let go.

“I'm sorry if I was reading that wrong Y/n but I care about you too and Bella and thank Chuck every day that he gave me you too.” “Chuck?” He chuckles. “More lore but this is way more important.” He gripped my hips and pulled me forward like he did six years ago. “Wait Dean before we go further even though I would love to relive how we made Bella I need to know this is a hundred percent real and this isn't another in-the-moment type thing.” He kisses me deeply again. “I'm a thousand percent for you and our family.” Our family I never thought I would hear those words and that did me in.

SMUT .................................................................................................................

I pull him in and kiss him again but this time put some real feeling in it. He slips his tongue in like it was natural. “Mhh Dean.” “Would you like to move this to the bed?” I jump up and he catches me. “Yes sir.” He walks me to my bedroom and kicks the door open and lays me down. He gets on top and starts to kiss down my neck. “Lets see, I think this is where your special spot is right?” He sucks down on my pressure point and I mewl with pleasure.

“Ding ding ding we have a winner.” He said slyly. “Dean, please no teasing, it's been six years.” “Aww darling did I get you all worked up.” “Dean fucking Win-” He goes down to my thighs and starts to pull off my shorts and underwear. “You already soaked baby is this all for me?” He starts to rub his finger up and down my slit. I barely answer. “Uh-huh.” “That’s it baby just feel me.” he puts his finger in my pussy. “AHH DEAN!” I grip his wrist.

“Shh, you don't want to wake Bells.” “Oh, you motherfucker!” He goes faster and faster. “Are you almost there?” “Yes!” He speeds all the way up. “Okay let go.” And I came all over his fingers. “Ahh, I missed that.” “You son of a-” I laughed and dragged him into another kiss. It was starting to get heavy again and he was unbuckling quickly. “Are you sure about this?” he asked earnestly. “A thousand percent.” He smiled his goofy smile and went on. But something stopped the both of us. “Mommy moma!” I look down at his tent. “I'll go but we'll continue this later.'' I leave him with a lingering kiss and him thinking he is the luckiest guy in the world.

There's a second part now: Trick or Treat with smut!

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester supernatural #dean x reader #smut #dean winchester smut #Dean Winchester dad

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d3wdropz · 1 year ago

Text

Does Princess Wanna Fuck? Toji Fushiguro Smut

a/n: I am shocked yet not shocked this man won the poll- I'm kind of nervous but here we go

i'm so shocked how big this fic is- sorry it took so long, finals were kicking my ass

plz be kind this is my first large fic

pairing: bodyguard! toji fushiguro x reader

word count: 5.1 K

summary: your mother, a very rich and influential woman, gets on the wrong side of some dangerous people. To ensure your safety, she hires the best protection money can buy: the Sorcerer killer. You're happy to have the support, you just didn't think he'd be this hot.

content warning: fem!reader, not virgin! reader, pet names (princess, pretty, doll, sweetie), swearing, porn with plot, age gap (toji is 30 something, reader is early 20s), alcohol, p in v, dirty talk, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), rough fucking, no protection, creampie, doggystyle, kind of mean! toji, bratty! reader, a few spanks, degradation (slut), no strings attached, no aftercare, hopefully that's it

Thank you @benkeibear for the great banner once again!

"I promise, sweetie, nothing bad is going to happen. I have my own personal team looking after me, we all just thought it would be safer for you to stay away."

You were sitting on your bed, listening to the voicemail your mother had left for you. It came as no surprise that she was on the radar of some shady people. Your mother climbed her way out of poverty and became one of the richest people in the city.

Ever since you were a child, you knew the methods she used weren't very legal. This came in the form of strangers coming in and out of your house constantly, the long and far away trips she'd take for 'work', and the items and rooms you were never allowed near. The people you saw as a child always ended up on the news, both arrested and murdered. The trips she took would often mean you wouldn't see her for upwards of a year, with no way to contact her so her location would remain secret. The locked doors and mysterious duffel bags were the biggest give away.

There was a time when you were eight and curious. You wanted to know what was so important about some stupid locked box. Your mother was away on one of her 'work trips' again, so she'd never know. When you were finally able to unlock it, you found it full of expensive and shiny jewelry. If it weren't for the news showing a picture of the same accessories- only this time the reporter was asking for tips on finding the stolen gems- you would have likely played with them.

No matter the means, your mom provided and loved you. Her job was paying for the expensive house you were sitting in right now, the newest phone model you were holding in your hand. You accepted your mom's life choices, going as far as to lie for her when people got too curious.

But right now was different. Never before did your mother's work involve you, let alone threaten to kill and dismember you. As soon as your mother received the threatening text, she had half her team escorting you out of your apartment and back home.

That was almost a full week ago and since then you hadn't been allowed outside of the building. Your mother was currently at her 'office', with the rest of her bodyguards and team looking for the guy.

You focus back on the message just in time to hear her final words, "I know you hate being cooped up inside the house, and if I'm being honest those men I sent are amateurs. I've hired the best hitman to look after you, you'll even be able to go back to your apartment. He's the best in the business. Anyway, I love you so much, baby, be safe. I'll call you when things have calmed down."

You delete the message as soon as it's over, sighing and looking around the room. You haven't been here in ages, not since you left for college and started staying in your one-bedroom apartment. Whatever nostalgia you were starting to feel disappeared when you heard a light knock on the door.

"Miss," it was one of your mom's team members, "The new guy is here to escort you out."

Standing up from the bed, you walked over to the door and opened it just enough to see the guy's face, "Okay, tell him I'll be down there in a minute. I need to pack up my stuff."

Packing was easy enough, you didn't have any time to pack the day the team swept you away so the only thing you carried down the stairs with you was a small backpack.

As you made your way down the winding staircase, you could hear an unfamiliar voice having a one-way conversation with the serious guards at the door. It was playful and some how laid back, something you weren't used to when it came to people your mom worked with.

When you made it to the bottom, your eyes met pools of deep green. The chatter stopped as the stranger faced you with a satisfied smirk, "So this must be little miss princess, huh?"

A mixture of annoyance and embarrassment bubbled in your stomach as you clutched the straps of your bag, "And you're the famous 'hitman' my mom told me about? I expected someone more professional."

In all honesty, it wasn't your best jab. Just something you made up on the spot in an attempt to knock him down a peg.

It only served as amusement, though, as he chuckled and looked you up and down, " 'Don't need to be professional to be good in my line of work, princess," noticing the slight pout on your lips, his smirk melted into a soft smile as he nodded, "but you were right, I've been paid a lot to keep you alive, even more if I find the guy."

One of the other guards grabs your bag as they begin to lead you to the black car outside. While walking, you turn your head toward the stranger, "Now how are you gonna protect me and catch the guy? I don't really like the idea of you half-assing a job that involves my life."

Another smooth chuckle leaves his scarred lips as he hops into the back seat of the car with you, "Oh, you are gonna be fun to work with, princess."

The princess thing was starting to get on your nerves, now. No other guard or person affiliated with your mother treated you like this. At best, they respected you; at worst, they coward at the sight of you.

"I have a name, u'know. If my mom is gonna pay you, you might as well learn it," you huff and turn your body away from him.

The man crosses his legs lazily and grabs one of the mini bottles of alcohol from the side door, "Trust me, princess, I know a lot more than you think. I know you're a snooty, little brat who still doesn't know the name of the person holding her life in his hands."

At the mention- or threat- of knowing too much information for comfort, you turn just enough to peak at him from the corner of your eye. Instead of using your words, you raised a brow and waited for an answer.

He took his sweet time giving it, too. He finished the alcohol in one gulp and wiped his mouth on his bare arm. The muscles flexed as he brought his arm and up, catching your eye just long enough for him to notice.

He finally looked into your eyes again with a cocky smile, "Toji- and that's all you need to know."

You tried to keep eye contact, tried to assert your strength and maturity. But it was a losing game, the thoughts racing in your head kept you from looking into Toji's eyes any longer.

Out of all the things going through your head, one stuck out the most: this asshole's hot as fuck.

~ ~ ~

It's been about a week since your mother hired Toji to be your guard dog, and you hate to say it, but he's very good at his job.

The first few days left you nervous and doubtful of his abilities as he waved you off to 'do your shit'. He said that you could go about your day like normal, that you'd be safe no matter where you were.

This was nothing like the last week you'd just had. Instead of one guy keeping watch in the shadows, you had a whole teams worth of people just watching you laze around your house. You had to admit, it felt refreshing to get back to your life. And it turns out, Toji wasn't lying.

During all of your outings, you were safe as can be. After a bit of questioning, he told you that while you did your thing, he was watching your every move. While a part of you was upset that you would be lacking in privacy, another was happy in the fact that you likely have never been in safer hands.

Even while at home, Toji doesn't intrude. He does his thing and leaves you alone. This could be rummaging and eating the food in your fridge, or sitting shirtless on your couch as he waited to sleep.

He's made a comfortable little bed on the living room couch. Your apartment, while beautifully furnished and on the top floor, didn't have more than one bedroom. As soon as you both walked through the door, you made it clear you would not be giving your room up for him.

If you could sum it up in one word, you'd say you were content.

That is, until Toji gets ready for bed. You're proud to say that you're no bashful virgin, you've slept with a few guys. But none of them were as hot as the man sitting before you.

You're ashamed to say that you've spent more time staring at his abs than the cliche action movie playing on the TV. You're also ashamed to say that you've wanted to fuck him since that moment in the car.

Throughout the week, you've tried to get closer to Toji. Not for the sake of a connection, but to see if you had any shot at getting with him for one night. To his credit, in this regard he is professional. You've learned nothing about him but his name, you didn't even know his full name.

In an effort to make some sort of progress, you mentioned having a movie night. He didn't really have the option to say no as your full-screen TV with surround sound was in the living room. Just to sweeten the deal, you offered to get drinks and takeout- which worked in your favor as you both make your way through the bottle of vodka and a pack of beer.

"Okay, kid, I know I said you could pick the movie- but come on, this movie is horseshit," Toji grabbed the remote from your hands and finished off the can of beer in one chug.

You knew the movie sucked, choosing it because of that reason. When has anyone ever gotten fucked with a decent movie in the background? The point was for you and him to talk, not genuinely watch the film. You were running out of options and sober thought quicker than you'd like to admit.

Steeling your nerves, you finished off your drink as well and poured yourself another, stronger one, "Well, it's my TV so before you turn anything on I want I know what it is first."

He chuckled and clicked through the options, landing on a classic slasher. Toji tilted his head at the screen, black hair falling into his eyes, "This good enough for the little princess?"

"Fine, but you need to tell me why you keep calling me 'princess', it's really pissing me off," you titled your head to meet his gaze, hoping he couldn't see the blush forming on your cheeks.

Toji crossed his legs and leaned his back against the couch, laying his arms against the head rest. "You really don't know, do ya?"

The bored expression on your face was a good enough answer as he itched the back of his neck and closed his eyes, "Geez. . . I shouldn't be telling you this but maybe it'll knock you down a peg," you leaned forward, eager to finally get some kind of information from him. "Your mom is a powerful lady. Everyone in . . . my line of work knows about her," he points his finger at you and grins, "which means, everyone knows about you. People think of you as a prissy little princess that doesn't know anything about the real world."

All of the confidence you had dissipated during his explanation, fueling you to drink more and more vodka until your cheeks flushed. You were smart, you knew your limits- and right now you were there. If you continued like this, you'd be drunk and all your efforts would be for not.

With a huff, you point your own finger at him, "I am not a prissy little princess. I know what my mom does! I know about the real world, I'm not some spoiled little kid."

"Oh- if you know about how your mom paid for your life of luxury, tell me. Cause I sure as hell would love to hear about all the info you've got," to further irritate you- or turn you on, you're not sure- he uncrosses his legs to spread them as he leans against his knees.

At this, you sputter, look to the ground, anywhere but his eyes and crotch. You'd officially dug yourself a hole. You didn't want to know about what your mom did, it would solidify in your mind that she's a criminal. Something you didn't want to accept was that the woman who loves and raised you might not be a good person.

Toji chuckles and opens another can of beer at your silence, "Feels nice to be right."

You groan and cross your arms, "Fine! I don't know what my mom does- I don't even wanna know!" you finally meet his eyes, trying so hard not to stutter when you see the sheer amusement swimming in his head. "But I am not a prissy princess!"

For once, Toji breaks eye contact first to roll his, "Listen, kid, I've only been with you for a week, but I know a brat when I see one," you hope it's not your imagination when you see him lean towards you, looking you up and down, "and you, Y/n, are spoiled rotten. Bet no one's ever said no to you before. Never made you say 'please'. "

The warm tinge in your cheeks is uncontrollable now as you feel yourself getting wet, "You're not my dad- okay? I know manners, you just don't deserve them-"

In the blink of an eye Toji makes his way over to you, putting his hand against the head rest and smirking down at you, "Oh, sweetheart, those aren't the kind of manners I'm talkin' about," he leans down to your level, so close you smell the alcohol on his breath.

"I see the way you look at me, it's so fucking obvious," his voice is barely above a whisper but it's leaving you hot and bothered in your seat, "Bet you were waiting for me to drop everything and beg for a fuck, right? You'd want me to do all the work while you just lay there and act like a little pillow princess."

At his words, you try and look to the ground in hopes of calming your racing heart. This attempt ends in Toji gripping your chin harshly and forcing you to look at him again, "If you really wanna fuck, cutie, then I'm gonna need you to be a good little girl. You think you can do that?"

The throbbing in your cunt is unbearable and you're desperate for any kind of action, so you eagerly nod your head. In response, Toji digs his fingers into your chin, "Use your words, slut."

All inhibition flew out of your body as you pouted, "Yes, yes please. I can be a good girl."

Satisfied, Toji let go of your face and stood up straight, "Prove it. I'm gonna clean up in here and by the time I'm done you better be nice and ready for me."

You're in your room in an instant, throwing off your pajama shorts and shirt. Your heart's racing as you lay down on the bed and reach your arm down to your aching cunt. It's been forever since you've gotten off, two weeks ago you were so stressed it didn't feel right. This week, you were hoping the wait would be worth it.

By how sensitive you are, you're happy you waited.

The simple ghosting of your fingers over your clothed clit has you biting your lip. You couldn't draw this out, though, Toji made a demand and if you wanted to be fucked you'd follow it.

Slipping your hand underneath the green, laced panties, you rubbed at your clit. Just a few circles was enough preparation as you slipped in a finger and tried rubbing at that spongey, deep, spot.

A whine slipped past your lips as your finger just barely reached your pleasure point. You were so close, you just needed a push. Letting the laced bra-strap fall off your shoulder, you pinched and rubbed at your hardened nipple. Hoping and begging for some kind of stimulation to get you over the edge.

Your whimpers and curses stopped as soon as you felt two calloused hands spread your knees.

"Can't even get yourself off, can you, princess?" Toji's grin was prideful as he admired your choice of clothing. He tsked and wrapped his hands around the straps of your panties, "Don't think some sexy lingerie is gonna save you, I told you to get prepped."

In one swift motion, he pulled down your underwear and threw them behind me. Toji climbed onto the bed, leaning back on his knees between your legs as he lazily stroked your clit, "maybe you aren't a good girl after all?"

At this, you sat up on your elbows and looked at him through your lashes, "I am! I promise I tried," you put all of your weight onto one arm as you used the other to rub at the bulge in his sweat pants. To avoid his gaze, you opted to stare at his abs.

You couldn't help but bite your lip from the excitement, "I just need your help, please, can't cum without you."

His mouth was clamped shut as you caressed his dick threw his pants, which you noticed were the only thing covering his manhood. His brows knitted together as he rolled his head on his shoulders, closing his eyes.

A small, deep laugh left his throat as he reopened his eyes, "You want my help, princess? Earn it, show me how grateful you are and suck my dick."

You didn't need to be told twice as you quickly lowered the waistband of his sweats and freed his cock. Drool pooled in your mouth as you studied his member. It was thick and curved, a nice seven inches with a mushroom tip you knew would hit just the right places.

Toji carefully put his hand on the back of your head, "Don't tell me you're backing out now, doll."

With your ego stroked and a need for praise, you shake your head and spit into your palm. Leaning against his clothed thigh, you wrapped your hand around his cock and gave him a few pumps. "No, just think you cock's pretty."

The hand on your head softly massaged your scalp in response as he let out a breathy chuckle, "Thanks, cutie, but how about you get to showing me that appreciation."

Taking the hint, you put both hands to work as you move them back and forth, adding in twists and some pressure when getting close to the base. You look up at Toji and are happy to see him closing his eyes in concentration as he bites his lip.

You decide now is the perfect time to bump it up a notch and wrap your lips around the tip. You suck on it and speed up your hand movement until you slowly suck on more of his cock. When you're finally able to fit it all in, you hollow out your cheeks and gently cup his balls. More heat floods your cunt when you hear Toji let out a groan and tighten his grip on your head.

"Fuck- just like that, princess," he runs a hand through his hair and struggles to hold in a moan as you pull your mouth up to the tip and tongue at the slit. Your hands go back to his cock as you squeeze and pump. When you hear him breathe faster, you go back to sucking him, bobbing your head up and down now.

It doesn't take long for this changing of tactic to have Toji bucking his hips up into your face. He's close, you can tell. At this point, you don't care if he cums down your throat, he'll probably be ready for more within five minutes.

Toji has other plans, though, as he pushes you off of his cock and onto your back, "Shit, doll, gonna ruin the fun." He repositions himself so that he's laying between your spread thighs, hands holding them tight against the sides of his head.

" 'think that deserves a reward," he dives his head down to your cunt, halting before he touches you. His emerald eyes peer up at you through raven locks as he speaks, "you better not cum, princess."

You nod and stroke his hair, gasping when he shuts his mouth against your pussy and starts sucking on your clit. It feels amazing, his fingers prod at your opening before plunging in and starting an unforgiving pace.

The hands in his hair pull him closer as you arch your back off of the bed. The neighbors probably can hear your loud and porno-grade moans, but you don't care. Toji's reaching all the places you couldn't and it's sending you to paradise.

"Ah! Toji- oh fuck- Toji! 'Gonna cum! I'm so close- fuck!" there are tears brimming your eyes from the pleasure as you start to clench around his fingers. You're so close, it feels so good.

You cry out when Toji pulls away, sucking his fingers clean as he stands up just long enough to takes off his pants, "Don't worry, doll, not leavin' you, just getting us more comfortable."

Panting and whimpers are the only sounds you can make as he unclasps the laced bra you wore and turns you onto your stomach.

"Think you can hold yourself up?" Toji's behind you, holding your hips firmly as he rubs the head of his cock between your folds.

You buck back against him, hoping to get some attention to your clit. As you register the question you lift yourself onto your elbows and nod, shaking your ass in excitement, "please, Toji, need you to fuck me so bad. Need to cum on your cock."

His nails dig into the flesh of your hips as he snaps his own forward. In one swift motion, Toji bullies his cock into your dripping cunt. You let out a squeal, almost letting your face fall into the pillows. His mouth falls open in a silent groan, letting his head fall forward as he looked down.

"Shit baby. . ." Toji breathes out and pulls his hips back slowly, savoring the view of his dick soaked in your juices. Just the tip was left snug in your cunt, leaving you wanting more.

"Ah! Toji- put it back! Please," you begged and tried to move back into him, only to be stopped by a sharp slap to your ass. You yelped, arms finally giving out as you face-planted into the pillows.

Toji 'tsked', massaging and gripping the reddened skin, "You better be patient, princess, or you're not gonna cum tonight."

With that, he sank back into you and repeated the movement. His pace was slow and agonizing, thrusts shallow and teasing. Tears formed in your eyes again at the lack of stimulation. You could feel the veins and ridges of his cock slide against you, but he wasn't hitting deep enough, wasn't going fast enough to send you over the edge.

On the other hand, Toji was enjoying himself. He was savoring the way your pussy clenched around him, pulling him in every time he pulled out. If he was being honest, all he wanted to do was grip your head, force your face deeper into those silk pillows, and pound into your cunt until you creamed. Not yet, though, Toji needed to teach you some manners; only good girls get to cum and cry on his cock.

His hands spread your cheeks apart to watch you clench around him. A hiss came from his scarred and bitten lips as he stayed still inside you, feeling you squeeze his dick just right. Toji let out a breathy chuckle as he wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned his chest onto your back.

" 'think you've been a good girl for me," one of his arms made its way around your throat, pulling you up against his chest as he thrust into you, hard. His head was nestled into your neck, biting and leaving dark purple marks, "better not hold out on me, princess, wanna hear how good I fuck this little cunny."

That was all the warning you got as Toji started pistoning his hips into yours, using his grip to slam your body into his thrusts. Tears of pleasure rolled down your face as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

It felt so good, the way his dick was slamming into your soft spot over-and-over. Toji was sending you closer and closer to your orgasm, faster than you expected.

"Oh shit! Toji- feels so fucking good! Ah- right there! Fuck! Right there!" You didn't care about the cries and moans coming out of your mouth. You didn't have the energy or focus when the only thing you could think about was how this was possibly the greatest fuck of your life.

You felt a rough hand snake its way between your thighs, starting to draw hard circles into your bundle of nerves. You let out a loud whine, head falling back and leaning against Toji's shoulder, now covered in a thin layer of sweat.

His arm dropped from your throat, finding purchase in groping your boobs. "That's it, princess, cum for me," his voice was low and gravely, desperate to feel you squeeze and milk him for all he's worth.

Finally gaining some sense, you gripped his wrist, trying to pull him away from your clit. You whined and felt your legs begin to shake, "Toji! Wait- gonna cum- gonna cum!" It was all building too fast, too intense. A part of you thought you might pass out when you reached your peak.

He chuckled and rubbed faster at your nub, bending you over and pressing his upper body into your back. It left you trapped beneath him, and gave Toji a better angle to fuck into you. At this point, it felt like he was hitting against your cervix.

"Come on, pretty, don't hold back" his thrusts sped up as his head dipped into your shoulder. You could hear his heavy breaths and low grunts before you felt him lick at the shell of your ear. "Show me what a good girl you are and cum."

Toji's words were all you needed to fly over the edge. A numbness washed over your sweat-soaked body, being replaced with unbelievable pleasure within a half a second. Your loud, high pitched moans filled the room, drowning out the sound of his thighs slapping against your ass. White filled your vision as you clenched around his cock. In the wake of your mind-shattering orgasm, you fall onto the bed, Toji following behind you and pinning you to the mattress.

As you dome down from your high, you feel Toji move his hand to grip your hips, digging his dull nails into your flesh. Somehow, he's fucking you harder as he groans into your neck.

"Fuck- good girl, good girl," his mouth latches to your skin now, leaving a hickey behind and moving to make another. "Gonna cum, pretty, gonna cum for you."

With one, final thrust, Toji stills inside you as he bites into the junction between your neck and shoulder, "Take it, slut- take it."

The feeling of hot cum gushing into you leaves you a whining little mess. Toji holds you tight, softly rolling his hips to ride out his orgasm. The two of you are left sweating and panting on your bed. You're too exhausted to think about what to do next, feeling just the slightest bit of overstimulation as he stays inside your abused cunt.

Toji chuckles and pulls out, sitting up on his knees to look at the mess he left between your thighs. You turn your head to look at him, lacking enough energy to move the rest of your body. Through the corner of your eyes, you watch Toji comb a hand through his hair before getting off your bed and collecting his discarded pants.

Some part of you wanted him to stay, but you're mostly glad he's taking charge and leaving without being told. It's obvious that this isn't the first time Toji's been in this position.

Even when fucked out, you've got a job to do. You manage to roll onto your back and run your hands down your face. The intent stare Toji gives to your bare tits doesn't go unnoticed, in return you smile teasingly at him, "Jeez, you aren't even gonna help me clean up?"

Toji ties the strings of his waistband and gives you a cocky grin, "I'm not being paid to pamper you, now am I?" He snickers as you roll your eyes, turning to leave the room. Toji stops himself just before he makes it out the door and raises a brow at you, "You're on birth control, right?"

At this, you scoff and chuck one of your throw pillows at him, "Maybe you should get better at your pull-out game, asshole."

He easily dodges the pillow, huffing as he leaves your room for real this time. While he makes his way to the bathroom, you hear him mutter something along the lines of 'getting you plan b in the morning.'

You sit yourself up on your elbows, cringing at the feeling of Toji's cum leak out onto your bedspread. The clock reads that it's two in the morning, and you really just wanna go to sleep- you would, if it wasn't for the various fluids drying on your bed. You groan and go to get off the bed, only to fall to the ground from the ache in your thighs.

"Damn it," you look up at the ceiling and hear Toji turn the TV back on in the living room. As you lay there, you let the memories and events sink in. He lets out a loud laugh at something he saw on the screen, and you're reminded that Toji is, in fact, a dickhead.

But you can easily admit that he's an excellent fuck. You're pretty sure that no one's any closer to finding the guy that threatened you. Maybe you can get one last round in before his job's done.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk #toji jjk #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk toji #toji x you #fushiguro #toji x y/n #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

Text

Always Ever Only You Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley realizes there's some good news and some bad news. The good news is he's deeply in love with his wife who likes to be adventurous in the bedroom. And the bad news from the mechanic? He'd actually rather not mention that to you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, anal play, anal sex, fluff, mentions of mission details

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

"Bradley! What did you do?!"

Your shitty little car's center console was loose, propped up by Bradley's booted foot like it was on a hinge. If he moved his foot up, the whole thing went with it. "I didn't do anything," he replied, removing his foot and letting the large piece of your car interior settle back down like he was completely innocent here.

You reached up from his lap and moved the console with your hands, and you gasped at the result. "You destroyed it!" Then you lifted it up higher and turned back to him with flashing eyes. "I can see the ground through the gigantic hole in my car!"

He winced. If you were upset when your car ended up in the shop last year while he was using it, you'd almost certainly be even more pissed off because of this. "I'll take it to my mechanic on Monday. He fixed it for you last time."

You nodded with some uncertainty, but you wrapped him up in your arms and kissed him. "Yeah... he fixed it last time. I'm just happy you're home. I made Marry Me Rooster and birthday cake for you." Bradley was practically panting at the feel of your fingers pushing back through his hair again. "And we can relax all day tomorrow."

For the first time in a week, he felt calm and sated. The adrenaline rush had finally worn off a bit, and right now he was exhausted. It was nearly midnight. His birthday was almost over. But if you wanted him to eat dinner and have cake with you at one in the morning, he would.

"Let's go home," he whispered. With one more kiss, you opened the back door and climbed off of his lap. When Bradley went to follow suit, he hit his head on the door frame and nearly landed on his face. "Fuck," he grunted, rubbing the top of his head. Great. Your car was poised and ready for revenge. He was going to offer to drive just in case there was something truly wrong with the thing, but he was a little afraid. He asked anyway. "You want me to drive?"

You just gave him a look. "I think you've done enough, Roo. And even though I love you, my car does not."

"That's fair." He kissed your forehead and yawned as he walked around to the passenger side. The engine started up for you without any issue, but it took you and him both pulling on the shifter to get it into reverse. And then your car made a horrible loud noise as you backed out of the parking spot.

Bradley had a very bad feeling about this.

-------------------------

It took you twice as long to get home as it should have. Your car sounded like it was begging for mercy every time you so much as tapped the gas pedal. It was a strage, loud whirring sound, and Bradley was looking at you with big, innocent baby cow eyes.

There was a gap between the center console and the floor of your car, and you wondered how on earth he managed to push on it hard enough to rip it clean off like that. It was almost comical. You husband was huge, and he'd apparently put all of his size into fucking you just right.

You laughed as you pulled into the driveway next to the Bronco. "So you're not too mad?" he asked quietly as he helped you push the shifter again.

"I'm not mad," you promised. "Your mechanic can fix it next week. We'll just need to share the one car until then."

Bradley leaned in to kiss you and said, "I will take care of it, Sweetheart."

Once you made it to the front door, his lips were all over your neck as you tried to unlock it. He was being sweet and soft now even though you were sure he could tell you were flustered with need again. Even the rough fabric of his duffel rubbing against your leg was almost too much. "I love you," he murmured against your earlobe as you finally pushed the door open. But you could tell he was tired, and you weren't the only one who was excited to see him.

Tramp came bounding out onto the porch, whimpering and whining as Bradley knelt and got his face licked. "Yeah, I missed you, too," he told the dog as he carried him inside. "Did you have fun with mommy?" Tramp kept running to his leash and begging, but Bradley said, "I'm not taking you for a walk in the middle of the night. We can go tomorrow."

"Are you hungry?" you asked, feeling a little silly for getting yourself so excited to feed your husband when it was so late. But you made a huge batch of Marry Me Rooster, and of course he insisted he wanted his birthday meal.

"I'm always hungry for this and for you," he said, pulling you onto his lap at the dining room table. He took a bite of chicken and grunted softly, and you leaned in to kiss along his cheekbone as he chewed. He had dark circles under his eyes, and you knew he was going to need to rest tomorrow.

"You want to tell me about your super secret special mission?" you asked him while he ate. He took a few more bites and set his fork down with a sigh before he answered.

His voice was careful as he said, "I really can't say much, even to you."

Your eyebrows shot up and your hands shook a little as you played with his hair. "Was it successful?"

"Yes," he replied immediately, which took the chill out of your body. "We had to... aid in hostage retrieval."

"Oh my god," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his chest and snuggling against him. You knew better than to ask for any more details than that. If the stakes were that high, no wonder he came back a bit of a needy mess. You could just imagine him on the aircraft carrier after completing his flight, adrenaline thrumming through his body. You rubbed your hand along his side as he finished the rest of the food on his plate.

"Thanks for my birthday dinner."

You smiled at him. "I'm just happy you're home. Do you want to save the cake and your present for tomorrow?"

"Please." His voice was soft, and his eyes closed against the feel of your fingers. You led him to the bedroom, taking the time to dig his toothbrush out of his duffle so he could get ready for bed. His new notebook was in there as well, and you flipped through it to see that he'd filled about a third of it up with his writing. But you could save that for later.

You pulled your dress over your head and tossed it in the hamper as Bradley walked back into the bedroom from the bathroom. "Ready for bed?" you asked, standing there completely naked. He just examined every inch of you, his eyes taking you in. It never really occurred to you to be self conscious around him, and when he brought his hand up to rub his cock through his boxer briefs, your lips parted on a soft sound.

He slowly raised his left hand which was hanging at his side, and as soon as he pointed at the bed, you were in it. Bradley stepped out of his underwear and left them in the middle of the floor, his hand wrapped around his cock as he climbed right on top of you. "Yeah?" he rasped with a grin. You supposed even through his exhaustion, he still had a little left in the tank for you, and you couldn't help but smile up at him.

"Yes." You spread your legs wide, and he buried himself inside you, uncaring that he'd filled you up barely two hours ago and left you a mess. He was doing it again, and he was doing it oh so well.

"Missed you," he whispered, the snap of his hips making you moan. "Missed our bed and your body and your pretty face." You watched as he took his silicone ring off and tossed it aside while he fucked you. Then his lips dipped down to your breasts before they found his wedding band where it rested against the front of your neck on your chain.

He fucked you until he came, kissing and licking the ring, bucking his cum deeper inside you with his eyes closed. You rolled him onto his back and sat up with him still buried deep. He was all soft smiles and comically boneless limbs beneath you as he stroked your thighs. "Can I have my ring?"

You reached for the clasp of your chain and slid it past your pretty charms. Then you secured your necklace once more before reaching for his left hand. You slipped it on his finger and kissed him there as he caressed your cheek. But his eyes were already closed, and he was sound asleep by the time you went to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

-------------------------------

When Bradley opened his eyes, his stomach was growling so loudly, he thought that might have been what woke him up. He was so damn comfortable, finally back in his own bedroom. "Baby Girl?" he rasped, wanting to just go back to sleep, but needing you with him.

Then he noticed the absolutely delicious smell coming from the kitchen and groaned. His stomach was growling so much, it hurt as he climbed out of bed and stretched. He found you a moment later cooking pancakes and bacon while sipping some coffee in his old UVA shirt. Tramp was on the floor begging his little heart out. When you saw Bradley you smiled, and he wrapped himself around you from behind, enveloping you in his arms. He could tell you were still fresh from your shower, and Bradley couldn't get enough.

"Are you hungry?" you whispered as he kissed along your neck.

"Starving," he replied, stomach growling loudly. "And I missed you in bed."

You rubbed yourself back gently against his naked body as you said, "You can rest and eat all day today. We've got nothing planned. I thought I'd feed you breakfast and let you take a long shower and then a nap."

He sighed next to your ear, feeling completely relaxed. This was all he really needed right now. You and he had worked on every little detail of your marriage until you were on the same page about what was important. The successful completion of Operation Loophole had him feeling pretty good about going back to base tomorrow. But today, the only thing he wanted was you.

You sat perched on his thigh as you finished your coffee while he ate. "What did I miss here while I was gone?"

"Just Jake almost fucking things up completely," you replied, biting into a piece of toast. "Oh, and I'm trying to get Bob to move in with Maria."

"The fuck?" he asked with a laugh. "As in, Bob would move into your old bedroom?"

"Yep."

"Sweetheart. Your old bedroom? We did some fucking nasty stuff in there together."

You erupted into laughter. "He doesn't need to know that."

Bradley looked at you like you had two heads. "I'm sure he already does."

"Poor Bob." You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Do you want some birthday cake for dessert?"

"I get dessert after breakfast?" he asked, somehow perking up even more over this perfect homecoming.

"You get whatever you want for your thirty seventh birthday," you replied as you stood and headed for the kitchen, letting Bradley see a peek of your gorgeous ass beneath his shirt. And in that instant, it was the only thing he wanted. He groaned and let his head tip back.

"Fuck." His heart was beating a little faster as he thought about tasting you there, touching you and fucking you there. You'd let him put his mouth anywhere he wanted last year on his birthday, and during your honeymoon, he'd enjoyed that particular part of your body again. But his cock was twitching, and now he was kind of mad you'd just proverbially offered up anything his horny heart desired. Because he was going to have to ask you for it.

There was no way you didn't notice he was half hard when you walked back in holding a confetti cake with your other hand behind your back. "Oh. My favorite. Thanks." His voice was bland as you set it down in front of him before pulling a lemon cake from behind your back.

"I was just messing with you with the confetti cake," you said with a laugh, bouncing back into the kitchen again. This time Bradley landed a little smack on your ass that left you giggling and looking at him over your shoulder in surprise. "I said the confetti cake was a joke, Roo," you told him with a wink.

This time when you came back, you had one single birthday candle and a lighter along with two forks. As you stuck the candle in the lemon cake and lit it, he asked, "Are you going to sing to me?"

"Of course," you whispered, kissing his cheek before settling on his thigh, your hip grazing his cock. Then you proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck, licking and kissing along his scars as you sang to him like you were Marilyn Monroe and he was JFK. You were giggling and enjoying yourself, and it shouldn't have been as hot as it was, but Bradley hoisted you up to straddle both of his legs as you finished singing.

You gave him a little squeak as you settled against his cock, and he got his mouth on yours right away. He ran his hand up under your shirt to where your Rooster tattoo was and caressed you there, but he was cupping your ass with his other hand. "Roo," you moaned into his mouth as he teased both of your holes. "You're still all keyed up, Daddy?"

"A little," he told you, surprised to find that he was again. He blew out his birthday candle which had burned almost all the way down, while he kept his fingers on you.

"You want your cake or your present?" you asked softly.

"Aren't you my present?"

You smirked. "I got you something else, too."

"I want it."

When you climbed off his lap, Bradley reached for you, but you were already walking toward the bedroom. "Take a shower, Roo. I'll get it ready for you."

So Bradley stood under the stream of water, first cold and then hot. He was afraid to touch himself too much, because he really needed you. And his curiosity was piqued. What did you get for him? And why did you need to get it ready?

Oh. He had asked you for another calendar. Another sexy pinup calendar featuring you, you and you. "Shit," he grunted, running his hands through his hair to make sure all the conditioner was out before turning off the water. He barely dried himself off before charging back into the bedroom. He was about to call for you when you popped up behind him and put your hands over his eyes.

"Close them," you commanded. "And no peeking."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied, going slightly crazy at your touch. You let go of his face, and he kept his eyes closed as you guided him by his shoulders until he was pretty sure he was standing in the bedroom doorway looking out into the hallway. Then you placed something in his hands.

He heard you cackle as you let go of him and said, "Okay, you can open your eyes and unwrap your gift, but don't turn around.

Bradley had the pretty red and yellow wrapping paper off in a flash, and it fell near his feet as he moaned. He read the cover out loud. "The Bronco and Baby Girl." Oh fuck. He'd never make it through this thing.

"Okay, now open it to January," you called out from behind him. He did, and it was a photo of you laying on the hood of the Bronco in the red bikini from the honeymoon. "Do you like it?"

"I fucking love it," he promised, his eyes roaming the high quality photograph. You looked like a real model, there was no doubt about that. "It's stunning."

You laughed and said, "Now look at February." He flipped the page and moaned at the sight of you sitting in the driver's seat wearing your skimpy red lingerie. "Now tell me which month you like better."

He flipped back and forth between the two before ultimately saying, "February. And it's a fucking shame it doesn't have thirty one days, honestly."

Your laughter filled the room and made him smile as he looked at March. You were wearing his aviators and little else. "You still like February?"

"Shit. I might like March the best now."

"How about April?" you asked, and Bradley was having a lot of fun with this game.

"Oh, that's nice," he remarked at the photo of you bent over his tailgate. He was currently having an existential crisis over your ass, and this wasn't helping.

"Why don't you keep going until you get to your favorite one, and then you can turn around."

"Alright," Bradley said, clearing his throat as he turned to May, which was one of you wearing the little dress you had on when you picked him up last night. You were laying on the backseat, and your tits looked like they were going to come free from the fabric.

But when he turned to June, you were topless. You were sitting in the back on the tailgate with your hands tucked behind your head wearing nothing but the shortest denim cutoffs he'd ever seen. You were facing the side with your upper body turned toward the camera. Your back was arched, your tits were jutting out, and your nipples were hard. The photo also somehow captured the perfect shape of your ass, and it was quite possibly the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life.

"June," he announced. "It's June, Baby Girl. It's my favorite one." And when he turned around, you were on the bed posed exactly like you were in the calendar, but you were smirking. Because you knew him. You knew he'd stop on June. You knew he'd fucking short circuit over that particular one. And now it was right in front of him in real life.

He tossed his calendar carefully onto the dresser as he inched forward, looking at you in those denim shorts at every angle as you bit your lip. "I knew you'd pick June," you whispered, and he leaned in to kiss your shoulder. Then he ran his palm down along your spine until his hand was on your ass.

"You know me so well," he rasped, climbing onto the bed with you. "Thanks for my calendar." He licked your right nipple before pulling your left one between his lips and sucking gently. You whined his name, and your hands were immediately in his hair.

"You're welcome," you gasped your hips rolling as he cupped your pussy gently through your shorts. He worked the button open and unzipped them as he kissed his way up to your neck, and you asked him, "Any special requests, birthday boy?"

But you knew. Somehow you fucking knew. You got on your hands and knees facing the headboard and wiggled your ass at him until he pulled your shorts down and helped you out of them. And then that was it. You were bare for him. He ran his hands up your soft thighs and up along your butt. He kissed you all over before he got on his knees and leaned his body over yours until his lips were right next to your ear.

"I do have a request."

He felt you shiver as he bucked involuntarily against your core. "Tell me."

You turned your head to look at him. His voice was a harsh whisper. "I want your ass, Baby Girl."

You moaned and rolled your hips back against him, nearly sending him through the roof. "What do you want to do?"

He kissed your cheek and tried to take a deep breath. "I want to do anything that you want to do. And if you don't want to do anything, then that's fine, too." He was panting as he kissed along your shoulder and your back, unable to stop himself from pressing against you over and over.

"Do you want to fuck me in the ass, Roo?" you asked so sweetly, he thought he was going to black out. "Because if so, you need to get the lube from the nightstand. And you need to go very slow. And you need to stop if I tell you it hurts."

"Holy fucking hell," he groaned, wrapping his arms around you and caressing your tits and your belly. "Yeah?"

"Yes."

He practically fell off the bed in his excitement. Other than using your toys, you and he had never done this together or separately, but he was ready to go. You didn't even look hesitant as you folded your arms on the pillow and let your head come to rest as you spread your legs a little wider. "It's like your birthday tradition now," you said with a little laugh as he dug around for the lube.

"Wonder what you'll let me have next year," he asked, kissing your lips before climbing back on the bed with the small tube. He needed to calm down, so he angled himself to get at your pussy with his mouth from behind. Within seconds, he had you gasping for him, and his mustache was soaking wet. He licked you up and down, swirling his tongue around one hole before slowly dragging it to the other. Your hips were held firmly in his hands as you rolled back against him for more pressure, crying out when you let you have it only on his terms.

"Bradley!" you whined.

"Shh," he whispered, licking along your pussy with a grin. "On your birthday, you can have whatever you want."

You were going to be tight. Even as he painted you up with your own wetness, and worked the tip of his thumb into your asshole, watching the stretch with fascination as you groaned his name, he could tell. He grunted as he flipped open the lube and coated his cock with it, never taking his lips off you.

"I'm so close," you moaned, pressing yourself back against his mouth as he played with your clit. And when you eventually came for him, he brought his slick hand up and worked his thumb a little deeper this time.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, kissing your lower back and pausing.

"No. Keep going."

----------------------------

It took Bradley a while even though you were relaxed from your orgasm. It didn't hurt, but you needed him to go slow so you could be sure of this new sensation. First his thumb. Then his cock.

"Oh my god," you whined, your eyes squeezed shut at just how full you were. You could feel the cool drizzle of lube hitting your body before your husband's hands returned to your hips in the gentlest caress. The stretch was almost too much as he moaned and whispered your name behind you over and over again. "Go slow," you reminded him when his thrusts started coming faster, and he took care of everything you needed.

Bradley's words were becoming unintelligible. He said something about his birthday before he told you he loved you. The soft glide from the extra lubrication was aided as you flattened your back out, and then Bradley gasped, "It feels so good. Too fucking good."

When he pushed a little deeper, you grunted, ready to tell him that was far enough. But you didn't need to worry. You could feel him slowly easing back out of you until that foreign feeling of being filled to the brim eased up and then vanished. Bradley yanked your body up so you were standing on your knees in front of him. His sweaty forehead came to rest on your shoulder as he panted and vigorously jerked off, his hand working along his cock between your body and his.

"Sweetheart," he moaned as he coated up your back and butt with his cum. "Fuck. Fuck!" He felt him run his hand through the sticky mess before he wrapped his big arms around to the front of you.

"Did you like that?"

He took a few deep breaths before his lips and mustache were tickling your ear. "I love everything we do together. I love you."

You felt warm all over from his words and his body, and he held you tight for a long time just like that as he caught his breath.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, slipping off the bed and pulling you carefully with him. You didn't feel sore, exactly. You were just more aware of everything as you moved slowly.

"No," you promised, shaking your head at him. He helped you pull on his UVA shirt before he carried you back to the kitchen. "I'm just a little tired. You wear me out more than my toys do."

He laughed as he set you down and took the leftover Marry Me Rooster out of the refrigerator. "I feel like your butt is for special occasions?"

Now you were laughing. "Like your birthday?"

"Yeah. Like my birthday. Now let's eat together and have my cake and take a bath. Then maybe you can replicate the rest of the calendar photo poses for me to see in person?"

"Oh. You really liked that."

"I really liked that."

-------------------------

Bradley held you against his chest in the bathtub. It was late now, and the bathroom was lit by one single candle in the darkness as he sang to you. He was relaxed, soothed by the feel of your hand on his thigh, and when you turned and smiled up at him, he kissed you.

"Don't forget, my parents are coming in a few days."

He'd already forgotten. The special mission and then coming home to you had clouded his brain and made him a little shortsighted, but not in a bad way. He loved your parents. "Right," he said with a nod. "Sounds good."

"And we'll have to leave earlier tomorrow morning so you can follow me to the mechanic."

He'd forgotten about that, too. Fuck. Your car was your favorite possession. Bradley truly did not understand the appeal, but you'd had the stupid thing forever. "Sure," he grunted, already nervous again. You nuzzled his cheek and then stood in front of him, and he leaned in to kiss along your ass while you giggled.

Today had been perfect. Last night, too. Other than breaking your car, Bradley was just happy to be home. It didn't really matter to him that you'd given him a little birthday celebration and agreed to try something new in bed, being with you was the most important thing. You and he had spent a lot of time apart over the past year and a half, and he was hoping that the successful mission might help shape the trajectory of his career to make things a little easier in that regard. Especially if you did get pregnant on your own, or if a conversation about alternative options took place in the future.

Bradley eventually fell asleep with you draped across his chest. He read to you from his new notebook, but he skipped the pages about his dream where you were pregnant. It felt like too much for tonight. He turned the light off, and your hand found his tattoo like it was a magnet for you. Even though he was exhausted, his mind was swirling as he tried to fall asleep.

Monday morning was a rush to get out of the house on time, and when you started your little piece of shit car on the driveway, it made such a distressing sound, Bradley almost insisted you get it towed instead. But you backed it out onto the road, and he followed you to his mechanic.

"I'm scared," you told him when you dropped the keys off at the front desk. "It sounds really sick this time." He had to kiss away the crease along your brow.

"Let's just play it by ear," he told you, taking your hand and leading you back to the Bronco. He patted your ass in your uniform pants as you climbed in, and he buckled your seatbelt. "How are you feeling today anyway?" he asked with a smirk that you kissed off his face.

"If you're referring to my butt, I'm a little sore," you told him, running your fingers along his scars. "But I'll be interested in the next special occasion." He climbed in with you and gave you sloppy kisses as you laughed. "Roo! We'll be late for work. I have a meeting with Bickel at nine."

"Aww, you can be late. Just tell him we were talking about your ass."

"Bradley," you snorted. "I will not."

He kissed you one more time before climbing off of you and closing the door. The drive to base was short, and you held his hand the whole way. He had to keep turning the radio volume up as you sang along badly, but you just kept getting louder with it.

"You're a nightmare," he informed you when he parked and killed the engine. "And god, I fucking love you so much." The way you kissed him made him want to put the key back in the ignition and drive you home to bed. Your hand was just about on his cock in his khakis when you pulled away.

"Gotta run!" He watched you stroll off toward the side entrance, waving at him coyly over your shoulder as he adjusted himself and headed for the locker room.

Bradley's day was going great. He was happy to see Nat, and he was looking forward to having lunch with you if you could get away from your lab. But when he checked his phone around noon as he walked to the cafeteria, he had a new voicemail from the mechanic. He could see you in line for your burrito bowl as you chatted with Bob. He could practically hear you laughing as he played the message and cringed.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, give me a call back. The car is totaled."

------------------------------

Oop. I can see the tears flowing already. Fix this, Bradley. Parents are visiting soon. So many things are happening soon. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 24

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@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

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