#I want to draw more stuff of this AU but my head had No Thoughts today and I couldn’t think of any situation 😭😭😭 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miyukisu · 1 month ago

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A Trace of Body Paint .ᐟ

❤︎ Request | He's learning anatomy for his art class—you'll help him, right? 3.1k wc ╰ feat. artist!shidou ryusei (bllk) x afab!reader

tags - lots of tension and build up at first, p*rn with plot, college au, artist! shidou, he and reader are both experienced, FILTHY, dirty talk, unprotected smeggs, rough smeggs, face f*cking, creampies, overstim, no y/n, not beta read

MEGA MASTERLIST

minors do not interact

"Yeah! I'll see you next week for my next assignment. Okay?"

Yeah right... next week...

You didn't peg Shidou as the type to flake on you, especially since he was the one who needed something from you. At first, you gave him the benefit of the doubt, then your mind wandered to impossible territory.

Maybe he found a different person to model for him.

Maybe you weren't good enough a model and he was getting low marks because of you...

But wouldn't that be his fault?

Maybe... he dropped out of class?

Every possibility crossed your mind, but not once did you think of actually asking him, "Hey, what's up with not calling me anymore to model for your art class? You know... THE THING WE DO WEEKLY?"

But pride does get the best of us. You are no different. Either the world ends or he grovels at your feet for ghosting you like that. Anyway, why did you care so much?

Shidou Ryusei only asked you to model for him for a few weeks for an art course he was taking. It just so happens you two were close and your schedules matched (and he thought you were really pretty). In exchange, he'd treat you after every drawing session. Ordinary stuff—that was until you slowly started to develop feelings for him.

There was something about the way he looked at you as he studied every minute detail—making sure they were all transferred to paper. He made you feel so... beautiful in ways you've never realized before. But most of all, you fell for such a creative and passionate spirit.

You were snapped out of your thoughts upon spotting a familiar hairdo across the quad. Your eyes met and you made sure not to waste this opportunity—glaring at him, making sure he knew how much he had pissed you off. Shidou looked left and right, possibly trying to find a way out of it. But maybe the intensity in your eyes worked because before you knew it—he was making his way to you.

"Hey..."

"Really? That's all you have to say after ignoring the texts I sent last week?"

"Eh... must've missed them," he lied.

"What about the time you saw me near your building? You missed me standing a meter away from you?"

"Guess so," he lied again.

His nonchalance made you want to rip your hair out. This hot-and-cold treatment was driving you up the wall. It was clear with the exasperated look on your face.

Though, his eyes never left yours—those same damn eyes that stared at you for hours. It was like there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't.

"Why did you even walk over here?"

He sighed like he didn't gave a shit. "You looked like you were about to murder me."

"Shouldn't you be running away then?" you countered. Shidou simply shrugged. "I'm not sure either."

You were about to unleash your fury, but he sighed loudly before continuing. "Fuck... fine. I've been avoiding you."

"Yes. I can clearly see that. The question is—why?"

"Look. I've been getting the highest scores in class because I have the luxury to have an actual person model for me... while everyone else relies on references on the internet or whatever," he explains. "But now... it's..."

"Isn't that a good thing then?" you asked—confused by his reasoning, but even more confused by his change in demeanor.

He shook his head. "Nah... it's just... I won't be needing you anymore."

Your jaw dropped. He said it so casually like it didn't just left a gaping hole in your chest.

"I mean," he backtracked. "We're gonna start drawing nude figures soon, so either you're willing to strip for me or—"

You cut him off. "Are you gonna draw my face with it?"

"Eh, all I need to draw now is the body since we're done with portraits and—"

You cut him off again. "Then draw me."

"Wha—" Shidou was cut off once more. "You heard me. Draw me," you say, as if challenging him.

It earns a hearty laugh from him—one you haven't heard in a while. "You're saying you're gonna stand butt naked in front of me while I stare at you for an hour or two? You know how that sounds, right?"

"It sounds like you're gonna stare at me butt naked for an hour or two."

You were so shameless, he thought. But it was one of the many things he liked about you. He chuckled, amused by the way things turned. Well... what kind of artist would he be to turn down such an enticing muse?

Shidou let out a low whistle as soon as the last article of clothing met the floor. You used to do these drawing sessions in the library—when all he had to observe from you were innocent things like your eyes, your hands, your hair, and so on.

But now that you have to bare everything to him, you figured the only place to do it was at his dorm. It was like what you imagined: cluttered but artsy enough that you could let it pass.

You stood awkwardly in the middle, feeling a bit chilly with nothing to protect you. But you posed, placing a hand on your hip while looking off to the side. That way, there wouldn't be any awkward eye contact.

Shidou sat down on a stool and quickly got to drawing. He said nothing as his eyes constantly flitted between the paper and your body.

The first few minutes in—you became hyperaware of everything. The fact that he was seeing absolutely everything. The absurdity of this entire situation. But most of all, the way your body was reacting to his gaze.

From your peripheral, you could see his gaze linger a bit too long at times. He'd bite his lower lip every so often and it made you feel conscious. Was he doing that because he could see your nipples hardening due to the temperature? Maybe he noticed the way you'd subtly rub your thighs together?

Whatever it was—it had him clearing his throat and shifting in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable.

Around 15 minutes pass, until he finally spoke. "Feeling tired yet?" he asked without looking up from his paper. You figured he was applying the final touches at this point.

"Yeah. A bit."

He hummed in response. "Get comfortable on my bed then."

"What? On your bed? Now?"

Shidou looked up from his paper. At this point both of you were desensitized by your nakedness (or so you thought). "Yes. Now. I have to draw you in at least 3 poses."

Three?

You gulped. But, once more, pride creeps up. You can't just challenge him to draw you naked so boldly—only for you to back down now. You gathered yourself and sat on his bed which was only a few steps away.

"Go on. You can get comfortable," he encouraged.

So you did. You lied down on your side, propping your head up on your hand. The scene that had unfolded reminded you of that one Titanic scene: Rose sprawled out for Jack to draw.

Knowing that, the moment felt too intimate. But you sucked it up... even though there was an unwanted wetness forming at your core.

Shidou shifted in his seat again, lowering his paper on his lap. "Alright, keep that position," he said, a bit strained.

In this position, you couldn't look off to the side. Your only option for the next few minutes was the wall behind him or Shidou himself.

At some point, your eyes met. There was something in his eyes you've never seen before. It wasn't the usual focus he had; it was something else. Something more intense.

But the 2nd pose passes soon enough and you were down to your last.

"What should I do now?"

He sighed, looking over his current sketches. "Lemme think. I'm having a hard time getting the details right."

"Maybe it's because you're sitting so far away," you commented—not thinking about what it implied.

His eyes zeroed in on you again—caught by your words. You want him to come closer with you like that and him slowly losing his composure? You were playing a dangerous game and you had no idea yet.

Shidou finally stood up from his chair, walking over to the bed. You weren't sure if it was just your imagination, but he was hard. His length strained against his fitted pants. The sight had your mouth watering.

He sat down beside you, eyes never leaving yours. The atmosphere seemed charged with the way you two found yourselves slowly leaning into each other.

"You look great," he whispered. It was something he always said in these sessions. It was a rather simple compliment. But it held more weight now.

"Thanks," you meekly responded. Neither of you realized how fast he inched towards you. His lips were a breath away. You showed no signs of backing away, so he went in.

He pressed his lips on to yours. The kiss felt hungry—needy almost—like he was fighting off this urge for so long. Before you knew it, his weight pushed you down on the softness of his bed. His scent enveloped every sense, clouding your judgement.

Shidou pulled away, breathless. "Pose like this."

He sat upright, eyes raking over your body. This time, he didn't hide the way his gaze would linger on certain parts. His hands ran down your legs, admiring the softness of your skin.

Then, without warning, he pried your legs open. But you didn't stop him. His pink irises trailed down to your core, seeing how wet you've gotten. Shidou thought he was drooling.

"Fuck... I wish I could draw this."

You feel your chest tightening. "Why not?"

"And let everyone see this?" his fingers ghosted over the skin of your inner thigh. "No chance in hell. I want to be the only one to appreciate my muse."

He let his thumb swipe through your folds softly before pressing lightly into your clit, earning a mewl from you. He kept circling the sensitive nub as if in a trance.

"I know what I want the last pose to be," he says. You moan a little louder as he rubs your clit faster. "Want your last pose to be you all fucked out... think you can do that?"

Words got caught in your throat. But it hardly mattered. It didn't seem like he'd take 'no' for an answer anyway.

Things escalated quickly because you soon found his finger plunging in and out of your quivering hole. He made sure to curve it in a way—relentlessly hitting that gummy spot on your walls.

He added another finger, wanting to hear more of your breathless moans reverberating throughout his room. To hell with it if his neighbors heard. This was music—it was art in its purest form.

"Shit... might just cum in my pants from this." He almost did after you clenched down on his fingers, cumming for the first time today.

Even as you coat his digits with your essence, he keeps pushing his fingers in and out until the fluttering died down a bit. He pulled his sticky fingers out before having a taste, savoring every last bit.

He made quick work of his belt, pulling down his pants and letting his member out. Your eyes widened. Not only was his size impressive, but his tip was incredibly swollen and leaky—like he couldn't wait anymore.

Shidou exhaled deeply, feeling the chill of his room brush over the sensitive length. He locked eyes with you again. "Care to take care of me a bit? My hand hurts from all that drawing... and... well, you know what else."

Normally, you'd bite back at his teasing. But your mind was fuzzy. All you could do was wrap your fingers around his length, slowly tugging it at first. The pleasure he felt after being so hard for so long took the strength from him. He almost fell on top of you if it weren't for his thick arms supporting him from either side of you.

"C'mon... do it fucking faster," he ordered. You obeyed—jerking him off as fast as you can without hurting him. It wasn't long before his own hand wrapped around yours as he continued to fuck into your fist. Next thing you knew—hot ropes of cum painted your stomach.

Even he was in a daze as he observed a part of him stained you in such an intimate way. He slowly leaned in, his breath fanning your face. "Hey, can I paint you like this? You look even better with my cum all over you."

You let go of his semi-hard member, slowly tracing his muscles up until you cupped his cheek. Gently, you pulled him down for a searing kiss. It was more than enough for him to know that you too wanted more.

He became rougher—biting your lip and fighting your tongue for dominance. As you pulled away for air, Shidou moved quickly to straddle your upper body. He shamelessly took his cock and slapped it against your lips a couple of times.

"Gonna have to help me get hard again, sweets. Help me out, won't you?"

Though he didn't really give you time to respond as he invaded your mouth inch by inch. One hand held the headboard while the other supported your head. He rolled his hips slowly, gauging how much you can take in at a time.

But, clearly, he underestimated you when you gripped his hips and pulled him in yourself. You felt his cock spring back to life steadily. He pulled out his hardened shaft, letting you breathe. It was only now you realized the grin that crossed his face. He was enjoying this way too much.

He went back to hovering over you, his cock bouncing at every move he made. Your body was jelly at this point—not even a bit of resistance as he flipped you over so easily. He licked a long stripe from your lower back up until your nape. The fresh saliva combined with the chilly air made you shudder.

He carelessly lifted up your hips. With your cheek pressed into his pillows and your ass up in the air, he only got harder at the sight. He leaned down to be eye-to-eye with this so-called masterpiece, your cunt.

His nimble fingers toyed around with your soaked folds, chuckling to himself. "Man, I don't think I could ever capture something so damn beautiful."

He gave it a quick lick to test. "Well, unless you let me get familiar with her long enough." Another lick. "Maybe I can capture at least half of its beauty." Another lick. "Don't you think?"

A muffled sound was the only thing he got from you. "Yeah? You're gonna let me get to know her? As an artist, I'm overjoyed right now. Maybe I should show you."

And show he did.

He lapped up at your arousal, tongue licking long stripes each time. Your legs threatened to give out every time he flattened the pink muscle against your twitching hole. It didn't take long before he started darting in and out. Helpless groans filled his small dorm room.

Big calloused hands squeezed the flesh of your ass, making sure you stayed in place for him to enjoy. He was so messy... so so messy. Shidou suckled on your clit—really trying to coax another orgasm from you.

It didn't take much more for you to cum again, but this time all over his mouth. He happily took in everything, reaping the fruits of his labor.

He gave your ass one quick kiss as if to show his thanks. But he wasted no time lining up his painfully erect cock against your entrance. "Fuuuuck, I need to be inside you already or I'm actually going to explode," he muttered.

At first, it was just the tip. But it stretched you out so good already. The needy whine that escaped you was a testament to that. It only made him grip your hips tighter, surely leaving a mark for you to see tomorrow. Carefully, he pushed in more of his length, feeling every bump of your pussy engulf him.

"Shit. This is the stuff."

But he got impatient, shoving in the rest of his length without warning. It was so tight, so warm—too inviting for him to handle. His hands left your hips, opting to find support on the mattress instead. His thick arms caged you as his chest pressed against your back.

He continued to whisper the filthiest things in your ear, kissing your neck occasionally. But for as slow and sensual his voice may seem, his hips snapped with reckless abandon. He wasn't shy about giving you your third and, maybe, fourth orgasm of the day while chasing his own.

"You finally understand why I didn't want to ask you?"

"Yeah... I knew I was gonna end up fucking you real hard."

"But this is so much better than what I imagined."

His words brought you over the edge, cumming again. But the overstimulation rendered you thoughtless. The only thing on your mind was how good he was dicking you down.

"Fuck... Ryu!" you screamed. His grin only grew wider.

"That's it. Scream my fucking name. Let them hear it."

Your wanton moans encouraged him to go faster, mercilessly pistoning into you. It wouldn't be a surprise if you came another time on his cock.

Shidou harshly grabbed your tit, hoisting both of you up into a sitting position. This way, his cock reached even deeper into you. He kneaded your neglected breast while keeping you steady by the waist.

He showed no signs of slowing—even reaching down to play with your clit. A tear was rolling down your face from how sensitive he made you. But he quickly licked the salty tear off of the curve of your cheek.

He whispered softly, "Cum with me."

Just like the obedient muse that you were, you did. You clamped down on him as he shot rope after rope of gooey seed into you. Finally, he slowed down a bit, letting him empty himself in your pulsing cunt.

As you calmed down and he softened, he gently laid you back down on the soft mattress of his bed. He watched as his cum oozed out of you, smirking to himself.

"My best piece of work yet."

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note WHAT THE FUCK DID I WRITE DAWG I WAS SO ON EDGE THE WHOLE TIME HELP WHY IS IT SO FILTHY

#blue lock #blue lock smut #shidou ryusei #shidou x reader #shidou smut #shidou x reader smut #shidou ryusei smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock x reader smut #bllk #bllk smut #bllk x reader #blue lock shidou #blue lock x you #bllk x you #shidou x you #♪ ── luvr.fm // works

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psin314 · 2 months ago

Note

kicking my feet.. in the were wyvern crow spite au.. does he allways look that way or is it a spite influence thing.. how does it play out with the rest of the dellamortes and veilguard seeing that ?

still wip but i have something.

it was interesting to think how the quest (bloodbath) would work here. illario was caught off guard and didn't expect lucanis to turn into... this. so rook had to do something and quickly, because Illario didn't fight back well and his head was about to be chewed off. so rook stabbed the wyvern in the thigh and provoked it to attack him instead. he didn't run far - spite pinned him to a column and now wanted to bite his face off. rook tried to get through to spite and he almost succeeded, but illario came to his senses and stopped spite with his blood magic stuff. he said the same thing and left. fucker.

transformation scheme!! when spite is angry and wants to talk to rook, but lucanis has the strength to resist, he shifts into a humanoid crow-wyvern-like creature. they share the body and sometimes spite can do and say things, but basically everything is under lucanis' control. if luсanis has no strength to resist - a wyvern. if spite calms down, then feathers and everything else slowly disappears within half an hour or two. and when spite gets furious and lucanis can't resist it, he instantly turns into a full wyvern. the transformation is uhh unpleasant, with crunching bones and groans of pain, i won’t draw that. although... who knows. 🗿🗿🗿🗿🚬🚬 wyvern spite won't just turn back into lucanis. he either has to get bored (which is unlikely) and lucanis turns back into his usual self, or rook has to convince spite or bribe him with coffee beans - then it's quite possible.

i haven’t thought about other people’s reactions yet. but I don't think it will be positive. 💀💀💀✋ but rook genuinely wants to help lucanis and won't give up on him. cus he likesss himmmm

+more visible size as a bonus

#asks #dragon age #dragon age veilguard #datv #dragon age rook #spite dragon age #lucanis dellamorte #rookanis #murat de riva #my oc #lets name it.....uhh #wyvern spite au #i know it reminds you howl's moving castle but i watched it like 10 years ago idk 😭😭😭

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solarhysm · 20 days ago

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DUST OF US - 06

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 4.6k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

If this is a dream, Jungkook doesn’t want to wake up. His eyes never leave your face as you tell him a story about you and your friends. After that kiss, you both decided to take a walk along the shore. Jungkook knows you’ve always liked the feeling of sand under your feet, even in the cold. He carries your boots, happy to do so, while you walk beside him, occasionally digging your toes into the sand.

He thought you would reject him when he kissed you out of nowhere. But you didn’t. Now, all he wants is to kiss you again. He’s dying to. But he doesn’t want to push his luck. If you want to kiss him, you will. He hopes you will. His eyes drop to your hand, brushing against his with every step. His fingers twitch. Not yet. Play it cool.

As if reading his mind, you hand him the bottle of soju you’ve been sharing, giving him something to do with his hands. He takes a sip and nods, silently thanking you.

“And Hwan ended up covered in Hyesun’s last meal,” you laugh, but he hasn’t been paying attention to the story. Jungkook is just smiling at the sound of your laughter. “But she’s a good friend. Even after Hyesun threw up on her, she kept taking care of her.”

“You’re pretty,” Jungkook whispers, and you freeze, eyes widening.

“I—You can’t say stuff like that out of nowhere,” you mumble, looking away to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

Jungkook has always said what’s on his mind, whether people liked it or not. And you know that. Once you’re far enough from the nightclubs and prying eyes, the two of you sit on the sand, staring at the shore.

“Alright,” you sigh, pulling a plastic bag between you. “We’ve gotta finish all of this before the sun rises.” You challenge him, and he smirks.

“Easy.”

A soft smile stretches across his lips as he watches you take out two beers and another bottle of soju. You clink your drinks together and take a sip.

“I’m surprised you didn’t make friends in Japan,” you say, breaking the silence.

“I did, actually,” Jungkook replies, burying the bottom of his beer bottle in the sand. He pulls his legs against his chest and takes a deep breath. “Kentaro is visiting me next month. If you behave, I’ll introduce him to you.”

You roll your eyes playfully, licking your lips. His big brown eyes follow the way your tongue traces your lips before he looks away. He knows you want to ask something, and he tilts his head, encouraging you.

“Stop that,” you groan, and he chuckles.

“You want to ask me about girls?”

“I never said that,” you retort, hiding behind your beer.

“You don’t need to. It’s written all over your face,” Jungkook laughs, stretching out. “What about you?”

He likes that he can still read you so easily.

“You didn’t answer,” you say, tilting your head in his direction.

“Hm... I had my fair share of girls, to be honest. But not in the first couple of years.”

“Really?”

“Hm.” He hums again. “Wait, are we talking about serious relationship?”

“All type.” You reply, leaning on your elbows.

“I had… two serious relationships. And a bunch of flings. Mostly flings actually. The heart wasn’t there for more.”

“Two?” You ask like it’s all you keep in mind.

“Yeah. You and a girl named Hina,” Jungkook nods, watching as you draw shapes in the sand. “And you?”

“No one since you. I mean, I had a few flings. And some one-night stands,” you say, and he arches a brow, surprised and amused.

“Look at that. Didn’t you become a bold one?” He jokes. “What a shame, a pretty girl like you, still single.”

“Shut up,” you chuckle, nudging his shoulder. “Maybe that’ll change. I’m sort of in a situationship right now. He wants more.”

“And you?”

“I don’t know. He’s nice.” You shrug, and Jungkook frowns.

“Nabi, don’t force yourself. I mean... who am I to give advice, right?” He laughs awkwardly before turning to look at you. “But I want you to be happy. And if you’re not sure that guy can give you what you want, don’t date him.”

“If I’m being honest...” You pause, and Jungkook gives you his full attention, sitting up straighter. “I’m scared to end up alone. I’m too... complicated. Most of the guys I had after you hated my attitude. But Baekhyun? He just embraces it. He supports me, accepts that I’m not ready to date, and waits for me.”

“That’s not enough. You shouldn’t accept the bare minimum,” Jungkook says, and you shake your head. “You deserve someone who’ll worship you.”

“Easy for you to say. Girls have been chasing you since we were teens.”

“Not the one I want,” he whispers, looking down at his beer as your eyes fall on his side profile. “you’re hard to live with, you’re stubborn with a big mouth and a taste for fights, I won’t deny that.” Jungkook teases and you slap his shoulder "But I also know that once you love, you give everything. If a man can’t get past your tough shell, he doesn’t deserve your love."

"Since when did you become a psychologist?"

"Tonight," he jokes. "Give me one more hour and a few beers, and I’ll be able to read your palm." He grins as you smile. "But I’m serious. Don’t settle for Baekhyun if you think he’s just convenient or your last option. Agreeing with everything you say? That’s not love."

You roll your eyes, making him smile wider.

"Then find me a guy who can handle me," you challenge playfully. Jungkook smirks, gesturing to himself. You laugh, shaking your head. "You should hate me."

"I don’t."

"I said you should." You lift a finger in the air, and he chuckles.

"Who’s Baekhyun, anyway?" Jungkook asks teasingly, his shoulder bumping into yours.

"You’ve met him," you muse, tilting your head to meet his gaze. "My assistant. The other tattoo artist."

"What?" Jungkook gasps playfully. "That kid? How old is he, eighteen?"

"Stop!" You laugh, punching his arm. "He’s twenty-three."

"I always knew you liked them young. I mean, I’m younger—"

"I’m older by a few weeks!"

"Cougar," Jungkook teases, and you roll your eyes. He won’t lie—he’s seen Baekhyun, and something about him seemed off. Or maybe it’s just jealousy because that kid has you and he doesn’t. "Do you change his diapers, too?"

"I’m done with this conversation," you huff, turning your head away while Jungkook bursts into laughter.

"Come on, Nabi, I’m just joking."

And yet, Jungkook is wondering if that Baekhyun knows you as much as he did once upon a time. Does he know that you hate to sleep on the right side of the bed? Or how you have a hard time focusing if there’s too much people around you, how you hate wearing nails polish. Does he know how to make those pretty sounds come out of your mouth when you’re in bed? And mostly, does he know how you love and the look you used to give him? Do you give the same look to that kid?

"Do you remember the last time we were at a beach in Busan?" you ask suddenly.

"Before we left for Seoul," Jungkook says softly, his eyes falling to his hands around his beer.

"We talked about the future," you add, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"I remember." Jungkook nods, his gaze following yours to the shore. "A big house, two kids, a cat, and a dog."

"Hm." You smile, pressing your lips together. His eyes drift back to your face. "Where would we be if… we had stayed together?"

"Married, for sure," Jungkook replies, finishing his beer. "Maybe you’d be pregnant with our first baby."

The thought makes you smile, and Jungkook’s lips curl into a soft smile too. He’s imagined it so many times—how beautiful you’d look with a round belly, glowing with happiness.

"Or maybe we’d be right where we are now," you say, taking a sip of your drink. "Maybe we were meant to be apart."

"I don’t believe that," Jungkook says, almost too quickly. "Our story wasn’t over."

"What makes you so sure?" you ask, arching a brow and Jungkook clenches his jaw, turning his attention to you.

"I didn’t fight for us because you disappeared that day. But I wanted to," he admits, and you chuckle bitterly.

"That’s why I disappeared." You shrug like it’s nothing. "I knew if I saw you again, you’d try to fix things, and I’d give in."

"That’s why you just… left our apartment and changed your number?" he frowns, and you nod, biting the inside of your cheek. He hates how casually you say it, like it didn’t tear him apart.

He hated that place without you in it. He hated that your left side of the bed still smelled like you even after he changed the sheets, how he could still hear you humming in the kitchen like you were cooking for both or how the couch felt cold without you cuddling against him during your movie nights.

"Do you even know… how it felt to come home and find our place half-empty?” He starts before hardly swallowing. “How I had to sleep in a bed that still smelled like you for weeks before I gave the keys back to the landlord? Fuck, Nabi… Do you have any idea how hard it was to live without you when I was so used to having you around all the time?" Jungkook shakes his head, hiding his face in his hands. "I thought it was the end of the world."

His admission makes you blink a few times as you look down, and Jungkook suddenly feels guilty when he sees you wiping your cheek.

“I’m sorry.” You say with a little voice. “I’m sorry…I – I thought you’d be better off without me."

“Says who?” He frowns, upset, shaking his head. “I was better with you.”

"I didn’t want to leave you," you admit before your emotions overwhelm you, and tears spill from your eyes, making Jungkook freeze. What is he supposed to do now? He didn’t mean to make you cry. He just wanted to have a good evening with you, but now you’re sobbing. What an idiot. "I never wanted to leave you."

"Y/N…"

“I –“ You swallow a sob. “I did it for you.” You shake your head and he frowns a little while you wipe your cheeks and take a deep breath.

"How… breaking up with me…?" Jungkook whispers, unable to finish his sentence.

He hates seeing you cry, but he knows that if he tries to comfort you, you would just push him away.

“I…I tried to help you.” You pinch your lips together. “That university in Tokyo accepted you. You were going to waste that opportunity just to stay with me."

Jungkook’s frown deepens. He never told you he was going to turn down the offer in Tokyo. And like you read his mind you let out a watery chuckle.

“I heard your conversation with Jimin.” you explain, and Jungkook freezes, a wave of anger rising inside him. “I couldn’t let you refuse that to work as a simple cashier, Kook. I couldn’t let you waste your life for me.”

Jungkook lets out a sour chuckle before getting up, his fists clenched at his sides. All this time, he thought that he did something wrong. All this time he thought that you left him because he said something that hurt you enough to breaking up with him.

“And who are you to decide for me?” He almost spits as you stay sitting on the sand, looking at him. “We were a team, remember? We were supposed to talk about it. Make it work!”

“Jungkook.” You say softly, getting on your knees but he takes a step back.

"All this time…" he mutters, shaking his head as a sob escapes. "Fuck... All this time, I thought it was my fault."

"I’m sorry."

"Sorry won’t fix seven wasted years!" he barks, and you struggle to get up, both of you drunk.

"Kook…"

"No." He shakes his head, wiping his face. "I fucking loved you with everything I had. I wanted to spend my life with you, build a future with you. If you had just talked to me, we could’ve made it work! You were the only one I ever listened to."

“Jungkook.” You repeat as you try to reach his hand but he takes another step back. “How was that supposed to work?” You frown and he rolls his eyes, looking away. “You were about to live new experiences. I would’ve been the girlfriend stuck in your hometown. How long would it have taken before you left me?"

"Don’t twist this into being my fault, Y/N," he warns, jaw clenched. "The distance, the new experiences—that’s bullshit, and you know it."

“I know that you needed your freedom.” You bite back and his teeth close on his tongue to not say something hurtful. “That’s why I didn’t want to reconnect with you. I knew how all of this would end.” You mumble, gathering your stuff and he can clearly see how hurt you are.

“I needed you.” He says more softly, but you don’t listen, tying your hair into a ponytail before catching your witch hat. “Nabi.” He stops you, standing right behind you.

"I get it, Jungkook. I do," you say without looking at him, trying to hold back tears, but he can hear the quiver in your voice. You're close to breaking.

“Nabi.” He repeats as you stand up, your hands full of your things.

"I never asked you to come back into my life," you snap, finally turning to face him, shaking your head. "I never asked you to kiss me earlier. I think it’s time to say goodbye for good."

"No." Jungkook's voice is firm as his fingers close around your arm. Even when you try to pull away, his grip tightens. “I won’t let that happen.”

You let out a dry chuckle, turning to face him, both of you frowning.

"You must be pretty stupid to still want me," you say, trying to swat his hand away, but he pulls you closer instead.

"I know what you’re doing. You’re being mean to protect yourself. It won’t work. We’re going to talk." His voice rises a little. "You always run when things get complicated. Not this time."

"Let me go, Jungkook."

"Not before we figure this out."

"There’s nothing to figure out!" you bark, but he only pulls you closer, his hand firm on your arm.

"Talk to me, Y/N," he says, his voice louder than yours now.

"I did! And you got mad at me!" You groan, feeling your frustration grow. He takes a deep breath, softening his features.

"It’s not too late."

"What?!"

"Us. It’s not too late," Jungkook whispers, and you stare at him, blinking in disbelief. "Yes, I’m upset with you. But that’s because I know... I know we could have made this work."

"How?" you ask, your tone softer now, no longer fighting him off.

"I could have… taken the ferry to see you during my holidays. You could’ve visited me. There’s always a solution, Nabi." He tilts his head, trying to meet your gaze.

"You were free," you reply, and he shakes his head.

"I didn’t want that," Jungkook chuckles sadly, finally letting go of your arm. "If you really want to leave, then go. I won’t stop you anymore, Nabi."

He looks at you as none of you break the eye contact. Will you leave? He doesn’t want to force you to anything. But you don’t move. And he hopes that you’re not playing him.

"Fuck," he laughs humorlessly, running a hand through his hair. "You’re the only woman who can shatter me, and I’ll still come running after you."

"I thought I was helping you," you murmur, biting your tongue, looking down at your feet. "I didn’t want to leave. I..." Your voice breaks, and you begin to sob. "I didn’t want to hurt you."

Jungkook stays silent, his fists clenching at his sides to stop himself from pulling you into his arms. God, he wants to. He needs to comfort you, but he knows you’ll push him away.

"I put my own feelings aside to let you live your dream," you sniff, hiding your face in your hands. Jungkook’s vision blurs as his eyes fill with unshed tears.

"I was going to ask you to marry me," Jungkook whispers, followed by an awkward chuckle. When you lift your tear-filled eyes to meet his, he shrugs. "The day you left me... I was going to ask you to be my wife."

And it’s too much to bear. You break in tears as he looks away, wiping his cheek. He hates seeing you cry. He hates being unable to comfort you like he used to.

“I didn’t plan to see you again when I came back. I was scared to find out you were happily married to someone who wasn’t me.” He continues, eyes fixed on an empty soju bottle half-buried in the sand. “But I saw you at Hyesun’s wedding and… fuck, you were so pretty.”

“Stop.” You shake your head, taking a step back because it’s probably too much to hear but he takes a deep breath and close the distance.

"I knew I had to try, Nabi," he says, cupping your face in his hands. "Because there’s no one else for me but you."

"Jungkook," you protest weakly, trying to push him away half-heartedly.

"Stop fighting it," he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. "Tell me you want this too."

"I…” You start but Jungkook muffles your next words with a kiss.

He isn’t trying to force you, but when you kiss him back, he pulls you closer. The kiss tastes of salt, from your tears and his. Jungkook has kissed many girls after you, but none of them ever made him feel like this. He softly nips at your bottom lip, creating a gap to slide his tongue into your mouth, meeting yours. It’s a passionate kiss, desperate. He wants you to feel how much he needs you. When you relax into him, your fingers threading through his hair and pulling him closer, he smiles against your mouth. But when the need for air becomes overwhelming, he reluctantly pulls back, his nose nuzzling against yours.

"Stay with me tonight. Don’t go home," he murmurs, gently wiping the remnants of your tears from your cheeks.

When you nod, his smile widens, and he pulls you into a tight hug, his nose buried in your hair. He missed your warmth. He missed how right it felt to have you in his arms. He doesn’t know how long you stayed like that, but when the cold started to bite at your skin, he pulled back. Grabbing both of your things, he offered his hand to you, which you shyly took. He couldn’t hide his excitement at the thought of keeping you with him tonight.

"You’re not walking straight," you chuckle as you make your way to his hotel.

"I’m drunk, Nabi. Sue me," he jokes, his fingers intertwined with yours as he playfully bumps his shoulder against yours.

Jungkook didn’t rush you once you were in his room. He handed you a fresh pair of joggers and one of his shirts while he waited, sneaking glances at the bathroom door. He even turned off his phone to make sure nothing interrupted your time together. When you came out of the bathroom, he smirked. He had gotten bigger since the last time you borrowed his clothes, and now you looked like a kid in oversized clothing. He found it adorable.

“What?” you ask looking down at your outfit, straightening your shirt –well, his.

"Nothing," he shrugs, still smirking.

Your nose is still slightly rosy from crying earlier, but somehow, it adds to your charm, Jungkook thinks. He gets up and grabs his clothes from the sofa, heading to the bathroom.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he says softly as he walks past you.

Jungkook needs to calm down. He closes the bathroom door and takes a deep breath before jumping in place with excitement. He takes off his shirt and turns to the mirror, grinning at his reflection.

Alright. Breathe. Play it cool. She’s the same, Jungkook.

He pinches his lips together to stop himself from smiling too widely. He feels like he’s seventeen again, on his first date with you. He never thought you’d let him spend more time with you, let alone kiss you like that. He takes another deep breath and looks down at his pants.

“Don’t embarrass me,” he murmurs to himself before turning on the water, excited to join you again, to hold you in his arms.

When he steps out of the bathroom, his damp hair falling over his forehead and neck, he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling on your phone.

“Are you hungry? We can order something to eat,” Jungkook suggests, closing the distance between you.

“No,” you say, locking your phone and tossing it on the bed. “But if you are, you can—”

“I’m not hungry,” Jungkook cuts in, putting his hands on his hips.

Both of you stare at each other in silence. It’s awkward, and neither of you knows what to say. Jungkook clears his throat nervously, and you giggle when he hums a tune, making him frown slightly and turn to you. Then, out of nowhere, you burst into laughter, falling back onto the bed, your hands on your stomach.

“What’s so funny, huh?” He smiles, amused, as you cover your mouth with your hand, shaking your head.

“Sorry,” you giggle, trying to calm yourself. “It’s just weird. What are we, sixteen? Why are you so nervous?”

Your laughter makes his smile grow as he cages you with his arms, placing both hands on either side of your body.

“You’re mocking me, seriously, Nabi?” he teases with a grin as you sit up, shaking your head.

“Sorry, sorry,” you say, pressing your lips together to stop smiling, then lift your eyes to meet his.

Jungkook’s eyes widen when your puppy-like gaze locks with his. He swallows, leaning closer, dying to kiss you, but he doesn’t want to push it. You smile at his nervousness, and he knows you can read his thoughts—just like you always did. For the first time, you close the distance and press your lips to his.

The only contact is your mouths. His fists grip the sheets on either side of you, trying to resist the urge to touch you more. But your hands trail up his arms to cup his face, pulling him closer. His resolve crumbles the moment your fingers bury themselves in his hair, pulling him down onto the bed with you. He hovers over you, careful not to crush you, one leg between yours as his hands trace the curves of your waist, still over his shirt.

“I’m not made of dust, I won’t crumble and disappear if you touch me.” You laugh against his mouth and he hums shyly.

“I’m not scared of that,” he whispers, trailing kisses along your jaw, his fingers squeezing your hips. “I just... don’t want to get too comfortable and wake up.”

“I’m real,” you reassure him, tilting your head to give him more access to your neck, where he continues to kiss and nip at your skin.

But something feels wrong to him—the way you kiss him hungrily while he kisses you back, passionate yet hesitant. Then it hits him.

“Nabi,” Jungkook murmurs as you continue to kiss his neck and shoulder, your fingers guiding his hand deeper into your joggers. “Y/N.”

“What?” you ask breathlessly, licking your lips as he straightens up, pulling his hand away from your pants.

“I don’t want to have sex with you like a cheap one-night stand,” Jungkook replies, sitting back on his knees and running a hand through his hair.

“What are you talking about?” you frown, leaning on your elbows. “You... don’t want me?”

“Of course I do,” he says, shaking his head. “But you’re acting like I’m just some random guy from a bar.”

You frown, sitting up. He’s afraid he said something wrong.

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” Jungkook sighs. “Fuck... Do you really want me, or are you just horny and I’m the only guy around?”

“Jungkook.” You say, your eyes soften as you cup his face, seeing the hurt on his face. “You’ll never be just convenient for me.”

He takes a deep breath, his tongue poking at his cheek. He wants to believe you. And fuck, if you told him the sky was pink, he’d believe you.

“We can just cuddle and talk if you want,” you suggest, and Jungkook smiles, nodding.

He knew about all the men in your life before you ever told him—Jimin had filled him in. Everyone knows you use physical intimacy to fill the void, and part of him feels responsible. If he had fought harder for you, maybe you wouldn’t have that endless list of guys.

“You’re not them,” you whisper as he pulls you close in bed, your head resting on his arm.

“I know. I was the first,” he teases with a smirk, and you roll your eyes, playfully slapping his chest. He laughs softly, taking your hand and holding it over his heart, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “Go on a date with me,” Jungkook says, your noses brushing against each other. “A real one. Not this ‘friendly date’ bullshit.”

“You’re such a hopeless romantic,” you chuckle as he smiles and kisses the tip of your nose.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Jungkook grins, his fingers softly rubbing the back of your hand. “We’ll grab some food and go to the beach tomorrow.”

“We came to see our families,” you remind him with a raised brow.

“I’ll see them after the date.”

Jungkook doesn’t know how long the two of you stay in bed, talking about everything. The sun starts to rise as you fall asleep, your face resting on his shoulder while he plays with your hair. He didn’t like them short at first, but he’s gotten used to it and actually thinks that it suits you now. But for him, you look pretty anyways. He keeps you close against his body, his arms locked around you to be sure that you won’t slip. Brushing his nose against your hair, he takes the time to enjoy your scent. Your perfume is slightly different from the fruity one you had when you two were together. This one is more feminine, more mature. And he likes it.

And when he wakes up later, he still finds you nestled against him, your back pressed against his chest. For a good minute, he has to pinch himself, convinced this is a dream. It feels too right to be real, having you here with him.

Jungkook carefully disentangles himself from you and sits up. His mouth is dry, and he needs to check his phone. After taking his time in the bathroom, he smiles when he sees you still sleeping, cuddling one of the pillows. He sits on the edge of the bed and turns on his phone, immediately bombarded by notifications.

Ignoring most of them, he opens his conversation with Jimin and sends him a message. Jimin knew about his plan all along and asked him to keep him updated. Jungkook types out everything he remembers from the night before—how you fell asleep in his arms, how happy he is. He smiles like a teenager as he types, and Jimin replies almost instantly, saying he’s happy for him. But then the next message makes Jungkook’s smile drop.

FROM: Jiminie

Did you tell her about Hina?

Jungkook sighs, rubbing his face. His fingers hover over the keyboard before he finally types a reply. He had been so focused on you that he forgot about her.

TO: Jiminie

It’s too soon. I just got her back. Let me enjoy this.

Jimin’s answer comes almost immediately and Jungkook groans, frustrated because he knows that his friend is right. His eyes fall back on your sleeping form. You’re going to hate him. He needs to figure out how to handle this little – big- problem. Jungkook knows where his heart is, and it’s right here, with the woman peacefully sleeping in his bed.

FROM: Jiminie

I understand. But you need to tell her before she hears it from someone else. Nabi has the right to know about your fiancée.

< previous - MASTERLIST - next >

WATTPAD.

KO-FI. (every chapters/drabbles are posted as soon as i'm done writing them.)

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starlit-writer · 18 days ago

Text

in sickness and in health, ch. 3 - alpha!simon riley x omega!reader

here is chapter three!!!! this chapter did NOT go the way i thought it would, but i promise we're getting to the whole simon groveling and begging and all that lovely stuff soon - i just cant seem to stop writing these two FIGHTING! as always, if you want to be added to the tag list to make sure you stay up-to-date, let me know in the replies! eat well, lovelies <3

if you want to understand more about my omegaverse au, you can look at my masterpost here, and it'll help explain all of the intricacies that may or may not be explained well enough in these short-form fics!

word count: 4,208 chapter two masterlist ao3 link

You were in a forest, surrounded by pines. Snow was drifting down slowly, coating the needles around you in light flakes before they melted from the heat of your breath as you stared up at the grey sky. You felt… at peace, for the first time in a long time. You were wrapped securely in the knotted roots of one of the pine trees as they wrapped themselves over and between the straps of your tactical vest, the wood gently resting against a sticky scarlet mark where your heart was supposed to be. You turned your head as much as the roots would allow, and you could see flames in the distance of the forest, a cacophony of gunshots and explosions ricocheting through your ears as the scent of smoking pine and wet gunpowder reaches your nostrils-

You woke up with a start, a gasp of air drawing through your dry, chapped lips sharply, the movement causing your aching ribs to spasm in a coughing fit. Your hands flew up to your chest to check for the wound that you were so convinced would be there, only to be met with the soft, warm, flesh of a massive tattooed bicep that was flung across your chest. But the everpresent scent of smoked pine, wet gunpowder, and a freshly-lit cigarette was still burned into your nostrils.

It was just a dream.

You blinked a few times, the light filtering through the blinds too bright for your blurry eyes to handle. You tried to lift your head, to move, but your body felt far too heavy and sluggish. You were reduced to your basest of instincts - you felt better than you had in months, but it felt like your omega side had completely overridden your logical one. You tried again to speak, to move, anything, but all that came out from your too-dry mouth was a cracking, reedy omega whine.

That made the heavy arm that was draped over your chest move. It quickly lifted off of you, the bed that you were laying on dipping and shifting like sand underfoot as the massive bulk next to you moved. You flinched slightly as rough fingertips gently touched your cheek, the image of Simon’s face swimming above you as a look of concern furrowed his brow. Oh. That would explain why that scent was swimming around you. If you two had been in a normal, healthy mating bond, it probably would have been easier to recognize. But after the months of distance, and neglect, you had forgotten your own alpha’s scent.

You felt it as your own face morphed into a matching expression. Where were you? Why is Simon here? What the fuck happened? You opened your mouth to say something scathing, the words nipping at the tip of your tongue, but before you could speak, the back of Simon’s hand traced down your cheek, almost reverent in his guilt.

“Shh, shh, love. You’re okay, you’re okay. ‘M ‘ere. Just don’t… don’t move, okay? I’ve got some water here for ya-” his voice broke off as he twisted his torso, keeping one hand securely under your head while the other grabbed a white styrofoam cup with a bright white plastic straw sticking up from the lid and brought it back over to the bed. You had to fight to keep your expression neutral, as the sight of the sterile-looking aerated plastic and the very thought of drinking the disgusting water contained inside made your stomach dip in disgust.

Simon could have cried when he felt your disgust through the bond, the cavernous darkness that had shrouded you from him in his mind finally lifting enough to allow him to feel you again. However, that didn’t stop your feeling of disgust, even if it was directed at the apparently devil-like cup in his hands and not at him, from lodging into his chest like the blade of a knife. He winced and quickly moved the cup away from you, frantically looking around his quarters for some other source of water. When he didn’t find one, a short curse fell from his lips as he glanced back at you sympathetically, regret and guilt shining in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I- I just grabbed this from medbay… there’s some vitamins and electrolytes and whatever else you combat medics throw in it, and I figured that that would help since, you know, you’ve been asleep for three days.”

Your eyes widened in shock. Three days? Three days!? You could vomit, and you probably would have if there had been anything in your stomach.

Simon sighed, screwing his eyes shut as he realized that was probably not the best way to tell you that information. He brought his hand - the one still holding that damn cup - up to his face, rubbing his eyes with the back of his thumb. Gods, he sucked at this. He ran his hand down his face and moved to get up from the bed. “I’ll just… yeah, I’ll just go get you some, um, different water in a different glass and… yeah, I’ll be right back.”

As he moved to get up from the bed, your hand weakly shot out, your fingers feebly wrapping around his wrist. Simon glanced down at your hand in thinly-veiled shock before he looked at you. You were just as shocked. You were still angry, at least, you knew you should be, but the only thing you could focus on was the way your omega writhed in pain at the mere thought of Simon walking away from you again.

“You need to drink some water. And if you won’t drink it out of this,” he said as he raised the cup, “then I gotta get you something else.”

You looked up at him pleadingly, an absolutely pathetic look on your face. You didn’t have the strength or energy to fight against the instincts right now. Everything in you was screaming and clawing at the idea of Simon leaving, even just to get you more water, and your instincts didn’t care about how it looked, or if it made you seem like you forgave him and were willing to forget everything that happened. You knew, logically, that you weren’t, but logic was so far out of the realm of control, the only thing reacting in your mind was your wounded omega, desperate for the proximity of her alpha.

“I don’t wanna force you to drink this if it grosses you out that bad.”

Another needy, desperate whine was his only response as you let go of his wrist, your shaking hand held outstretched to take the cup. It was a clear message - I’ll drink it. Just don’t leave.

Simon’s gaze softened as he sat back down on the edge of the bed, bringing the straw close to your lips. You closed your eyes, the moment feeling far too intimate for the reality of your relationship with Simon as your dry, chapped lips wrapped around the plastic of the straw. After a few moments of forcing down the polluted-dirt tasting water, Simon slowly and gently pulled the straw away from you, his free hand coming up to your face to brush an errant strand of your hair behind your ear. His heart ached as your eyes fluttered open, still cold and guarded even as he could feel your omega pleading for him to stay through the bond.

“Feel better?”

You nodded slowly, the movement disjointed and sluggish as you brought a shaking hand up to wipe a small droplet of water off of your lips. “Yeah,” you muttered, the words thick and gruff with disuse. The thanks that should have followed that response stayed stuck in your throat like a pill that was much too big to swallow.

Simon nodded in response as he sat the cup back down on the bedside table. He then grabbed a wrapped protein bar, and tore open the packaging with his teeth. With the unwrapped protein bar in hand, he turned back to you, holding the bar near your face. “Eat.”

A pause, a short breath leaving Simon’s lips as he realized that a demand was probably not the best way to get you to do something at the moment.

“Please,” he amended, his voice softer, gentler. “You need to get your strength up,” he added, shifting the bar a little closer to your lips.

You knew he was right, ultimately, but it wounded your ego, accepting his help after all of the neglect he had put you through. You sighed softly and shifted on the bed with a groan as your muscles protested against the tiniest of movements. Simon’s hand quickly wrapped around your aching shoulder to help shift you on to your side, and you settled back down into the bed, lifting your head up slightly to take a small bite out of the protein bar. You figured it would be impossible to swallow, as all food had been the last few months, but you were shocked to find it easy to get down. You sat up slowly, achingly, agonizingly slowly, but Simon, shockingly, was there to support you. You reached out and took the bar from him, suddenly ravenous.

Simon watched as you all but scarfed down the protein bar, his gaze softening with guilt. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, looking down at his now-empty hands. He hated himself, the guilt and regret of being so blind to you throughout the entirety of your marriage, your mating bond, eating him alive.

You froze, mid-chew of the last bite as you heard his murmured apology. You didn’t know how to respond, feeling like a deer in the headlights of his sin.

“Simon…”

“No, I… I am. Gods, angel, you have no idea how sorry I am. I was such a dick to you, such a bad fuckin’ alpha, and I know that my words probably don’t mean much, or, really, anything to you, but… if I could reverse time, do it all over again, I…”

“Simon, stop,” you croaked out, your gaze fixated on the comforter that pooled against your sweatpant-clad legs, anything to keep your eyes off of him. You couldn’t look at him. It was all too much, far too quickly, and you had nowhere to even begin to parse through the emotions and pain that still existed under your skin like a thrashing beast, even if it felt more subdued than it did three days ago. You didn’t want to think too hard on that, though, wanted to ignore the way your alpha’s presence, his scent calmed the ugly thing, if only slightly.

You couldn’t - wouldn’t - forgive him. Not right now. Sure, he had kept one promise; he had stayed with you, but in the grand scheme of things? It didn’t mean much. You smoothed your hand over the soft comforter, balling the now-empty wrapper of the protein bar in your other hand. Too many emotions, too little time. You felt like you were trapped between your base omega desires and the reality of your situation. The wrapper crinkled in your hand louder as your grip became tighter, the atrophied muscles in your arms shaking with exertion and emotion.

You felt Simon’s hand as it inched closer to you, more than likely to try and bring you comfort, but you couldn’t take it. Right before his hand touched yours, you jerked it away, throwing the wrapper into some random corner of his room in your panic. You quickly scrambled out of the bed, your need to get away from him, from the situation, much greater than any of the aches and pains of your neglected body. You stood in the center of the room, your chest heaving from the exertion as you steadied yourself on your feet, your legs wobbling beneath you.

Simon just stared at you, wide-eyed and frozen.

You stared right back. Your mind was a mess, fractured between your omega and your logical, rational side. Your omega was screaming, tearing at the confines of your skin at the very idea of leaving your alpha, but you pushed it away. You felt cornered, and you were lashing out like a feral cat.

“I- I gotta go.”

And with that, you turned on your heel, and all but ran out of the room. Simon was still sitting on the edge of the bed, shellshocked and staring at the space in the center of his quarters that you were just occupying.

–

It had been about a week since you had left Simon’s quarters. That first day, after you had left, you were violent, volatile - your own quarters destroyed as you tried to release all of the pent-up emotions by throwing anything and everything you could get your hands on before you collapsed into little more than a heap of tears in the middle of all of the broken glass and ripped papers. You had slept there that night, on your floor, but when you woke up, there was one of Simon’s sweatshirts outside of the door of your quarters with a note.

I know you don’t want to see me right now. I know you’re pissed, and you have every right to be. But the bond is still fragile. Just keep this around, please? -Simon

Part of you wanted to burn it, still so full of rage and pain, but the desperation of your omega had you pressing your face into the soft, plush fabric, a small omega purr unconsciously pulling past your lips. As soon as the sound of your purr reached your ears, you threw the article of clothing onto the ground as if it was a ticking incendiary bomb. It was still there, in that corner, but it cursed the entirety of your quarters to smell like Simon, the scent of smokey pine, wet gunpowder, and the first drag of a cigarette cloying to everything, no matter how many of your own clothes you piled on top of it.

The rest of that week had passed by you like a blur. You had mostly stayed in your quarters, focusing on how to control and push down your omega desires, instead replacing them with the rage you knew you should feel towards Simon, definitely not because it was the only place that you could still smell him, certainly not. It was just that the thought of being seen out and about when your emotions and physical health were so volatile seemed like it wouldn’t be the best of ideas, and that was definitely the only reason.

But, today was the first day that you had actually gotten up and took a shower. Looking in the mirror, you noticed that your skin looked much more lively, the sickly grey of the bond sickness had dissipated, and the bruises that had covered your skin had all but faded away. It made you feel… wrong almost, to be, to look, “fixed”. The torment that you had undergone still lived and breathed in your very bones, and seeing yourself without the physical marks of it, even if they were self-inflicted, felt wrong. So, you quickly tugged on some workout gear, grabbed your keys, and left your quarters, determined to make someone pay for the grief and rage that thrummed under your skin.

You dumped your keys and your sweatshirt in a corner by the sparring ring, stretching for a moment as you scanned the gym. Plenty of people to spar with, but, more importantly, no Simon. And, before you knew it, an unsuspecting, far too cocky beta recruit was swaggering up to you. He was new to the base, you could tell. Fresh out of basic training, by the looks of it. You pushed a smirk down off of your lips, as you wanted the challenge. Wanted him to fuck up just so you could absolutely let loose. You batted your eyelashes up at him, really playing into the whole weak omega stereotype.

You ran your gaze up and down the recruit, sinking your teeth into your plush lower lip. You watched as the recruit’s eyes lit up at your actions, obviously taking them as flirtatious. Meanwhile, all you had wanted to do was knock him off his axis, get him thinking hazy.

The recruit smirked, rubbing his hands together. “Name’s Conwell. James Conwell. Need a sparring partner?”

You grinned up at him, the expression so fake and sickly-sweet as you leaned towards him slightly, clasping your hands in front of you. If it pushed your tits together, what was the harm in that?

“Oh, yeah, James, that’d be great! I might need a few pointers though. You okay with that?” The grin that the recruit gave you was downright predatory as he nodded and slipped between the ropes, bouncing around and shadowboxing, obviously trying to show off. You quickly stifled a laugh behind your hand, clearing your throat before you slipped between the ropes as well. Gods, new recruits, especially new beta recruits, were such easy marks. They always had such a chip on their shoulder, desperate to prove themselves, and certainly not above pretending to be something they weren’t to do so. And as you settled into your side of the ring, you could smell just how desperate this recruit was to be something he wasn’t.

He had sprayed fake alpha pheromones on himself. The scent was nauseating, making your stomach roll. But, you pushed it down. You’d play the part, let him get one or two good hits in, then it would be game over for the poor boy.

“How do I start this?” You asked innocently, looking down at the smooth vinyl that coated the floor of the ring. The beta’s (Jim?) grin widened as he sunk into his own fighting stance.

“Just like this, pretty girl.”

You suppressed a disgusted shudder at his words, painting that saccharine faux-innocence on your expression as you pretended to copy him, sinking into your own stance. Yours was a much stronger base, your legs spread wider to better accommodate your movement, your fists actually tucked up to your face as protection, unlike the way the beta kept his hands low over his bare chest, obviously believing the lie that you were no threat.

“You should probably swing first, you know, show an omega like me how an alpha does it.”

That did it. His eyes glinted with that repulsive possessiveness that every douchebag gets when you stroke their ego just right, when you pretend to believe a lie that they’ve tried so hard to force to be truth. And so he did, but it arched wide, giving you the perfect opportunity to dodge under and land a jab right in the left side of his ribs. You popped up, a glee-filled smile on your lips, genuine this time, as you looked at him as he gasped for air, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

He blinked, bewildered, as his head swiveled from side to side in an effort to find where you went. Once his eyes zeroed in on you, his lips pressed into a thin, angry smile, the kind that someone would give an annoying child after they spilt their snack for the third time in a row. “Wow, quick learner, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess!” Your words were bright, your eyes filled with a predatory glint that you tried to hide as you beckoned him tauntingly. “C’mon! That was fun!”

The beta growled in a terrible impression of an alpha rumble, swinging out in the exact same way. It forced you to wonder what the fuck they were teaching these kids in basic training nowadays. The velocity of this punch was slow, and you knew you had to let him get at least one punch in if you wanted this to last any longer than a few minutes before he stormed off with his tail tucked between his legs in embarrassment. Normally, you would have braced yourself for a hit that you knew was coming, but something else hit you before the punch could. Smoked pine. Wet gunpowder. First hit of a cigarette after a stressful mission. It pulled your attention just long enough to allow the beta’s punch to land squarely in your ribs, the force of the impact much greater than the velocity, which promptly knocked all of the air from your lungs. You stumbled back a little, but you forced your gaze to stay on your opponent, not allowing yourself to get distracted by the pheromones that had settled over you like an oppressive coat.

That was, until, you heard an actual alpha growl emanating from the door of the gym. It was so loud, so full of anger, that it caused everyone to stop what they were doing. You rolled your eyes, shaking out your shoulders as you sank back down into your fighting stance, but your opponent was frozen, his hands dropped as he turned to look at where the growl had come from. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who he was staring at. You sighed, your head dropping as you saw Simon’s long, purposeful strides carrying his massive bulk up to the ring. You heard your opponent get pulled from the ring, and before you knew it, Simon was in front of you, lifting your head up with gentle fingers.

“Did he hurt-”

You forcefully knocked his hand off of your chin, your eyes hardening. A small omega growl ripped past your lips as they curled up in displeasure. “Oh my gods, fuck off! We were just sparring!”

Simon’s gaze darkened as he looked down at you, but he, thankfully, didn’t touch you again. “You smell like fuckin’ shit. What, fake pheromones are what does it for ya now, huh?”

Your growl increased in volume as you shoved against his chest. The anger, pain, and guilt that swam between the two of you was almost tangible, the tension thick enough to cut through with a knife. You didn’t care. “Don’t pretend like you know anything about what ‘does it for me’,” you mocked as you put sarcastic air quotes around the repeated words.

Most of the gym had cleared out by now. Everyone knew how volatile the two of you could be separately, and when they sensed the heightened anger and emotions between you two, they quickly disappeared. For the few stragglers that were left, Simon fixed them with a glare hard enough to freeze an ocean, and they quickly packed their things and also scurried away.

“You wanna fucking punch something?” Simon growled as he took a step closer to you. “Punch me. Not some stupid prick tryna peacock around as if he’s an alpha. You fuckin’ smell like that shit ass cologne he was trying to pass off as his own.”

A downright predatory grin spread over your lips. You were pissed. Pissed that he was here, that he had taken away the one outlet that you knew you had to work through all of these emotions. So, you bit back. You knew you were playing with fire. It was one thing you were always good at, part of the reason the team, especially Simon, called you spitfire.

“Oh, is that what that was? It smelled so good, I thought it was real.”

You were lying, and the smirk that spread over Simon’s lips confirmed that he knew it too. You shook your head, blowing out a frustrated breath as you moved to step around Simon. You didn’t want to be around him right now. His hand shot out to grab at your wrist, but you jerked it away from him.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me,” you bit out as your teeth ground together. “I didn’t need you to come save me, and you had no right to storm in here like this.”

“No right?” Simon seethed lowly as he turned his head to look at you. “No right? Pretty sure that’s my fucking teeth marking that mating gland right there on the side of your neck!”

You froze, slowly turning to fully face him now. Your expression was set into a mask of absolute, unbridled rage that Simon had never been on the receiving end of. Your fists were clenched impossibly tight at your sides, and you could feel the anger rolling off of you in hot, tangible waves. You had known Simon didn’t know how to be a mate, but you had never imagined that this is the way he would deem acceptable to treat you. No matter what, you were a soldier first, more than capable of taking care of yourself, you didn’t need him breathing down your neck like some sort of denmother. It almost seemed like he was trying to overcorrect from his mistakes, becoming overbearing and overprotective. That almost pissed you off more.

“If that is how you think this bond is going to go, especially after everything you did, I will cut this mating bond out myself. Do not test me.”

You didn’t wait for a response. With that, you stepped off of the mat, grabbed your things, and walked out, not even bothering to look behind you as your hand rubbed harshly over the mating bite on your neck.

---------------------------------

as always, thank you so so much for the support, and keep an eye out for chapter four! tag list: @kerst666 @misscaller06 @letaliabane @sai-int @itsmeamysworld @massivescissorsthingperson @aeeliy @alkalineapparition @cringeycookies

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lelengerine · 5 months ago

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pairing. jaemin x reader

synopsis. what do you do when your feelings for your best friend start becoming not-so-platonic anymore?

genre. childhood best friends to lovers au, just jaemin realizing his feelings, pls imagine them living in a small town near the beach 🙂‍↕️, gender neutral reader, lmk if there's anything that was missed!

wc. 1.2k words

notes. inspired by holyland - wave to earth! such a good song and i highly suggest reading this while it plays as bgm >< this won the poll i had up yesterday so yay! likes and feedback are highly appreciated!

m.list

the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the sand as you and jaemin walked side by side, the rhythmic crash of waves the only sound filling the silence between you. the air was warm, a soft breeze tugging at your clothes, and your laughter echoed across the empty stretch of beach as you nudged him with your shoulder.

“come on, jaem, you’re still so slow,” you teased, jogging ahead a few steps, turning to face him with that playful grin he’d grown so fond of. you never changed, he thought. always light, always glowing, even when the rest of the world felt heavy.

jaemin’s steps slowed, and he watched as you spun around in the sand, your arms outstretched like a child, completely carefree. the sight of you bathed in the fading sunlight—hair tousled by the breeze, your face flushed from the sea air—did something to him. there was a pull, a weight pressing on his chest that he couldn’t shake. he stopped in his tracks, eyes tracing the curve of your smile, the way your laughter rang through the air, unburdened and effortless.

maybe i’ve been walking along with grief… can’t find the love within my heart.

how long had it been like this? how long had he been chasing after things that didn’t matter, only to realize that what he wanted most had been right beside him all along? the realization settled over him like a wave, gentle yet unrelenting, washing away the distractions he’d been clinging to.

he was in love with you.

the thought hit him with a clarity that left him breathless. all those moments—sharing late-night snacks, lying under the stars, trading inside jokes that only the two of you understood—he hadn’t realized what they truly meant until now. jaemin’s chest tightened, a quiet fear gnawing at him. what if he’d already lost his chance? what if you didn’t feel the same way?

“jaemin?” your voice broke through his thoughts, a soft question laced with concern. you’d stopped spinning, eyes wide as you tilted your head at him. “you okay?”

he blinked, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “yeah, i’m fine.” but even as he said it, the words felt heavy, like they didn’t belong to him.

you moved closer, the sand crunching under your feet. “you’re so weird today,” you murmured, a teasing lilt in your voice, but there was something more—something searching, like you knew there was more to his silence.

jaemin’s gaze drifted away from yours, back toward the horizon where the sun was sinking lower, its golden light reflecting off the water’s surface. he swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. how was he supposed to say it? how could he put into words everything that had been building inside him without unraveling the delicate balance of your friendship?

can you settle down my soul? and take me back to the days of old with you.

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “it’s just… i don’t know. being here makes me think about a lot of stuff.”

you raised a brow, folding your arms over your chest as you took a seat in the sand, motioning for him to join you. “stuff like what?”

jaemin hesitated, the weight of his confession hanging on the tip of his tongue. he dropped down beside you, his fingers absentmindedly drawing shapes in the sand. “stuff like… how things have changed. how i’ve changed.” his voice was quieter now, laced with uncertainty.

you didn’t say anything, just waited patiently, eyes locked on him, like you were giving him all the space he needed to figure out what he wanted to say. and maybe that’s why it was so hard—because you always knew him so well. you could see past his smiles, his jokes, even his silence.

i’m laying in the grass, a daydream in the sun… i’m back inside your peace.

he’d always thought that was enough—just being close to you, being your best friend, the person you turned to when the world felt too big or too lonely. but somewhere along the way, that had changed for him. being near you wasn’t enough anymore. he wanted more, craved it in a way that scared him.

“i’ve been thinking about us,” jaemin admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder would make the truth too real. “about what we mean to each other.”

you tilted your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “we’re best friends, jaem. we’ve always been.”

he nodded, but his chest tightened. that was exactly it—best friends. the words felt too small, too limiting for what he felt. “i know. but… i think i’ve been lying to myself about what that means for a long time.”

your brow furrowed, confusion clouding your expression. “what do you mean?”

jaemin’s breath hitched, and he could feel his heart racing, the fear clawing at him again. but he couldn’t hide it anymore—not from you, not from himself. “i think i’ve been in love with you for a while now.”

the confession spilled out, unplanned and raw, leaving him feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way he’d never felt before. his eyes darted to yours, searching for any sign of how you might respond. would you laugh it off, tell him he was imagining things? or worse—would you pull away, leaving a gap between you that couldn’t be bridged again?

oh, holyland… watch your breeze take over me, just like we used to be.

but you didn’t laugh. you didn’t pull away. instead, your gaze softened, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. the sound of the ocean, the distant cries of seagulls, even the wind—everything fell silent as you stared at him, your lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.

“jaemin…” you finally whispered, your voice tender, unsure. “why didn’t you ever tell me?”

he laughed weakly, the tension easing just a little as he shrugged. “because i was scared, i guess. scared of losing you.”

a silence hung between you, but it wasn’t heavy—it was contemplative, like both of you were trying to find the right words in a sea of emotions that had been unspoken for too long.

let me float in your arms… so come back to me.

then, you reached for him, your fingers brushing his. the simple touch sent warmth through his entire body, a quiet reassurance that you weren’t pulling away. not this time.

“i’ve been waiting,” you admitted, a small, almost bashful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “waiting for you to say something. because i think… i’ve felt the same for a while too.”

his heart soared, a quiet joy settling into the spaces that had once been filled with doubt. he couldn’t help but smile—a real one this time—as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as the waves lapped at the shore behind you. the weight he’d been carrying for so long seemed to dissolve, leaving only the warmth of your embrace and the quiet certainty that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, casting the world in shades of pink and gold, jaemin knew with unwavering clarity that whatever came next, he was ready. as long as it was with you.

#nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct angst #nct dream angst #jaemin #jaemin fluff #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles #nct x reader #nct dream x reader

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slaybestieslay946 · 1 year ago

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Oh me gosh can you please do a Luke Castellan x reader fic where he’s just so head over heels for her but she’s so clueless and everyone keeps trying to get her to notice but she won’t and like they’re bests friends🤗🤗

tysm for ur request! if you don't mind I tweaked it a bit so its annabeth and percy trying to set up Luke and reader! hope you enjoy!

KISS THE GIRL

word count: 2000

pairing: Luke Castellan x poseidon!reader

warnings: none!

a/n: Even though this is a daughter of poseidon fic, its not part of my future au! for Luke.

MASTERLIST

Percy and Annabeth were standing at the edge of the amphitheatre, talking about something mindless when they spotted you and Luke walking towards the entrance, seeming deeping engaged in conversation.

Annabeth watched as you laughed at something Luke said and a light blush tinged his cheeks, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Could he get any more obvious?

“Oi, Perce,” She whispered, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” She asked, nudging him to look in the direction of the pair of you.

“Yeah, I see my sister with Luke, what about it-” It appeared the realisation finally struck him, “Oh my god, are they-?”

“I don’t know. He’s definitely into her, I know that.” Annabeth mused, inspecting the pair as they grabbed two wooden swords and began sparring together, laughing as they repeatedly dodged and side-stepped the other.

“He told you that?” Percy asked, his eyes practically bulging out of his head.

“Well, no. But it’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

Annabeth then gasped in realisation, startling Percy slightly before he realised it was just another one of her epiphanies.

“We should get them together!”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Isn’t that something you leave up to Aphrodite kids?” Percy asked hesitantly.

“Battle strategy and romantic strategy aren’t all that different.” She shrugged, before dragging him off to draw up new ‘romantic’ battle plans with her.

STAGE 1: CONFRONT LUKE

Annabeth’s strategy wasn’t all that complicated, and she was pretty certain the most difficult part would be getting Luke to admit his feelings. But, as it turns out, he cracked pretty quickly.

“Alright, you got me.” He sighed, holding his hands up in surrender, “I do like her, but can you blame me? I mean, she’s so smart, and beautiful, and kind, and-”

“That’s enough lover boy. Cool it.” Percy said, cutting him off with a groan. As much as he had given Annabeth his blessing to go along with this crazy plan, he still didn’t want to hear Luke gushing about how hot his sister is.

“Sorry man.” Luke chuckled awkwardly, before the pair of boys turned back to Annabeth to lead the conversation.

“So, now that you’ve admitted it, we need to start brainstorming how we’re gonna get you guys together.” She said, clapping her hands together and producing a roll of paper, with a long list of ideas that she promptly began to read out.

The list ranged from pretty normal things like ‘take her out on a picnic’ to insane stuff like ‘bring her a monster's head as a gift’. Luke wasn’t so sure you would be a fan of that one, but he had to admit all the other items were pretty good ideas.

“So what do you suggest, Annie? Work our way down the list?” Luke asked, and his little sister nodded, before outlining which ones she thought would be best.

“We should start small, you don’t wanna freak her out,” She consulted the list again, thinking to herself, “Ah, here we go, ‘Give her a compliment’.”

“Ok, I think I can do that.” Luke grinned, his head immediately flooded with things that he loved about you.

“Just don’t make it weird, or I’ll revoke my blessing.” Percy grumbled, his arms crossed as Luke laughed sheepishly again.

“Will do.”

STAGE 2: START SMALL

The next week mostly consisted of Annabeth and Percy spying on you and Luke at any possible moment.

The first of his tasks, to give you a compliment seemed to go well. The pair of preteens watched on from their spot behind a tree as the pair of you separated to go to dinner, and Luke complimented your hair. You blushed slightly, and smiled widely, before rushing off to your own table in the dining pavilion.

Luke quickly whipped around to look at Percy and Annabeth who gave him enthusiastic thumbs ups.

His next task was to give you a small gift, and he decided that it should take the form of the matching charm bracelets he made with the younger kids. Annabeth and Percy sat with him as he deliberated over specific colours and shapes of bead, until they were nearly sick of his equivocation.

But, as much as watching him make it was downright annoying, Percy had to admit the way you both wore your charm bracelets everyday afterwards was pretty cute.

The final task of the week was to bring you flowers, and that whole day Luke could be seen wading through fields of wildflowers looking for the perfect ones to add to his bouquet. This was then snuck onto your nightstand later that night by Percy, who over the course of the week had become very invested in your blossoming relationship, a fact he would deny to the ends of the earth.

STAGE 3: ESCALATE

“Alright Luke, time to bring out the big guns.” Annabeth announced, before clearing her throat and reading the list of tasks for the week.

‘Sit at her table during dinner’

‘At least one compliment a day’

‘One instance of arm-around-the-waist contact’

This was the point at which the Hermes boy began to get slightly nervous. The other stuff before could be pretty easily written off as friendly, but sitting at someone's table at dinner? Only couples did that.

“Are you sure that’s not moving too fast, I mean-”

“Luke Castellan, don’t be so damn pathetic! Grow some balls, before someone else steals your girl!” Annabeth exclaimed, whacking him over the head with the list.

He nodded, “Yes Ma’am.”

From then on, he was pretty much unwavering in his determination. He sat at your table every mealtime, slinging an arm around your shoulder, or your waist. Anytime you came up with a capture the flag strategy, he’d praise you intelligence, anytime he saw you, he greeted you with a ‘Morning beautiful’ or a ‘Hey sweetheart’.

Annabeth and Percy were shocked with his sudden progress, but pretty impressed with the way it was going. At this point, the pair of you were practically dating.

The only minor setback came in the form of your complete and utter cluelessness.

Percy had decided to test the waters with you, and gently float the idea of you getting together with Luke.

“You’ve been spending loads of time with Luke at the moment.” He remarked casually as you both walked back to cabin 3.

“You’ve just noticed I spend time with my best friend? Well done kid.” You laughed, ruffling his curly blonde hair.

“That’s not what I meant.” He rolled his eyes, ducking out of your grasp.

“Then what did you mean?” You asked, hands on your hips, a confused expression on your face.

“I meant like, you guys being ‘involved’.” He shrugged, trying to make it sound as nonchalant as possible while looking out for your every reaction. He was unreasonably invested at this point, but oh well.

“What?!” You exclaimed, your voice suddenly going higher pitched, “Nah, no chance! Luke would never.”

Percy had to stop his jaw from dropping to the floor. It would’ve made sense if you denied having feelings for him, but to be so oblivious of how whipped that boy was for you? He thought you were smart.

“Yeah, sure. I guess so.” He shrugged once again, before swiftly changing the subject.

STAGE 4: KISS THE GIRL!!

“Guys, we have a problem.” Percy said, bursting in on Luke and Annabeth’s conversation the next morning.

“What?” The pair asked in sync, concerned expressions on their faces.

“Y/N is an idiot.”

“Woah, don’t say that about her-” Luke began, desperate to defend your honour, but was cut off by Annabeth’s harsh glare.

“What do you mean, Perce?” She asked, her tone level.

“Luke, man, she has no clue you like her. Like she is convinced it’s impossible.” Percy explained, and Annabeth’s expression also grew confused.

“Gods, she really is dumb.” She sighed, ignoring Luke’s chiding at insulting you, “We’re gonna have to really turn it up a notch. Luke, it’s time to really bring out the big guns.”

For the next few days, Luke, Annabeth and Percy spent most of their time rushing around preparing for Annabeth’s so-called ‘masterstroke’.

And then, after much hard work from the trio, it was ready, and Luke was whisking you away from the campfire to the surprise he had prepared for you.

“Luke, where are we going?!” You laughed as he dragged you along by the wrist, a piece of cloth tied around your head to block your vision.

“You’ll see.” He chuckled, gently directing you around a tree root as he led you deeper into the forest.

“I swear, if you’re kidnapping me I am not going to be happy.” You teased that infectious smile he loved so much covering your face.

“No, no kidnapping tonight.”

You continued to joke around together as he led you towards his destination, until eventually you came to a halt, and he was untying the cloth around your face.

You gasped in delight as you saw you were by the pier, and in front of you was a picnic blanket set up with all of your favourite food and drink.

Immediately you grabbed him by the arm and led him to the blanket, thanking him all the way and gushing about how sweet and amazing he was. Meanwhile, Luke was trying not to pass out from the barrage of affection you were giving him.

The pair of you quickly tucked into the meal, laughing and joking. But all the while, Luke was preparing his confession, and trying not to let his palms get too sweaty.

Eventually, he decided it was time, and he made his move.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You looked up at him with shining eyes, and he had to remind himself to breathe.

“I’m in-” His love confession was cut off by the sudden boom of fireworks above you both, and he silently cursed himself for forgetting to organise a signal with Annabeth to start them. She really did have bad timing sometimes.

“Oh my gods! Fireworks!” You exclaimed, nudging Luke to take a closer look, pointing out which ones were your favourites, and clearly any speculation about what Luke was going to say had escaped your mind.

Eventually the display was over, and you turned to him yet again, gushing about how lucky they were that fireworks were out tonight. He couldn’t help but wonder how someone usually so smart could be so clueless?

“I organised the fireworks, Y/N.” He said, softly, placing his calloused hand over yours.

“What, really?!” You blinked owlishly at him for a moment before furrowing your brows and asking, “Wait, how come?”

Luke couldn’t contain his chuckle.

“Isn’t it obvious by now? I’m in love with you. I’ve been trying to hint at it for weeks, but clearly I wasn’t being obvious enough.”

“What? Why?” You stammered, shock coating your face entirely.

“Why am I in love with you?” He asked as if it was a stupid question, which to him it was, because he could list a million things that he loved about you.

“Because you’re beautiful, and smart, and kind, and generous, and every time I see you I can’t help but smile because you're my best friend and I love you more than anything.” He rambled, wiping his slightly clammy palms on his cargos.

“Now I’d really appreciate it if you’d put me out of my misery and reject me.” He said sheepishly, itching the back of his neck.

But, of course, the rejection never came. Instead you were rushing forwards to hold his face in your hands and kiss him, slowly and deeply.

And, about ten metres away, Annabeth and Percy could be seen high-fiving behind a tree, before skipping back to the campfire in glee.

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #fluff #x reader #pjo #writing #fanfic #ask #clueless #reader is so silly #trace amounts of percabeth #percabeth crumbs

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empress-simps · 11 months ago

Text

Line That Leads To You

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader AU: Soulmate AU CW: Language, Genre: Angst with a happy ending (don't worry guys) Summary: You make Sirius realize that having a soulmate isn’t all that bad— that he too, will have his happily ever after.

Note: One of my favorite tropes to write, soulmate AUs! Sirius just needs love and affirmation. I love writing for this! Enjoy! Picture is from pinterest, credits to the owner!

You know, Sirius never really believed in those pesky soulmates stuff. It irks him to no end, and makes his head hurt.

The topic makes him snappy, bitter, and it leaves him feeling angry. To whom? The world— the one who’s responsible for everything that has to do with soulmates. He thinks it is a bunch of bollocks. It’s a pathetic little concept that everyone seems to be too invested in.

Sirius would be very much happy to tell you it doesn’t really end with a happily-ever-after.

“I’m telling you, Prongs. It’s just a bunch of crap.” Sirius tells James one time at the drawing room in the Potter Manor. James shakes his head, disagreeing with his best mate.

“It isn’t always like Walburga and Orion, Pads.” James gently tells him, eyes swimming with empathy for Sirius. “Just look at me, Lily and I are together, finally.” Sirius can’t help but scoff, shaking his head in a disagreeing manner.

“That’s because you were already pathetically in love with her before you even knew she was the one, Prongs. Same thing for Lily, but she was quite stubborn trying to deny what she felt about you. You guys are actually made for each other.” James lets out a laugh, the memories resurfacing making a love-struck smile appear on his face (Sirius gave him a disgusted look)

“That’s what soulmates are, Pads. You’re supposed to complete each other, balance the other person out” He pursed his lips and sighed, there’s no way Prongs could understand his opinion on the matter.

Complete each other, huh?

Then can someone give him a reasonable excuse on why his parents broke each other? One descended into madness; the other doesn’t really seem to care as long as the noble house of Black lineage will continue.

Sirius bites his bottom lip, deep in thought as he stares at his pinky, willing the connection to be seen; a red string that was tied into a bow that leads to Merlin-knows-where. It serves as a connection; the string that he and only his soulmate can see whenever they want. He tugs on it curiously, awaiting any reaction with bated breath. He almost scrambled away when he felt the other end also tug it. Sirius was utterly terrified, a shiver crawled up to his system, it’s foreign feeling for the Black’s eldest son. It made everything feel too real. A fact that he desperately tries to deny.

That night, before they returned to Hogwarts as sixth year students was the last time he ever willed to see the annoying little string in his pinky, not caring if his supposed other half was finding him or already found him.

Maybe it had to do with his twisted upbringing. He saw how his father cut the string tying him to their mother, the purple string that bound them together turning gray and withering away.

He saw how Regulus flinched, no one should’ve seen a scene like that, but they did. Someone severing their connection to someone who should’ve been with them through better or for worse, the one that fate intended for them. Their life got worse just after that, forcing him to flee and leave his younger brother behind at the deranged hands of Walburga Black.

“You should eat more, Reggie.” You turned towards the quiet and reserved Slytherin, pushing his plate closer to him, which made him wince. “I am quite full.” You raised a brow “None sense, all you did was sip pumpkin juice so you better do as I say or I’ll tell Evan and Junior.”

“Do you know that you boss people around quite well?” He grumbles, shoving a few spoonsful of dinner in his mouth as you hummed in approval, cracking a small smile. “I was told.” Your eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table, it seemed to gravitate you, pulling you in.

Looking down at your pinky, you willed the string to be visible to you. Seeing the red string attached to Sirius Black made your stomach churn; was it butterflies? Unease? You don’t particularly know, having mixed reactions to the string that leads to your other half.

You’ve known for over a year now, keeping it to yourself as you quickly figured out that he wants nothing to do with his soulmate.

“Reggie! Reggie!”

You exclaimed, slapping the poor boy’s arm as he was currently staying in the L/n Manor. He looked in your direction, quite annoyed, he was interrupted reading his book. “I’m reading, Y/n. You know, you should too. It’ll do you some good.” He sassed, trying to find which part he stopped reading. “My soulmate! They tugged the string!” You gushed, “They must be looking for me too, right?” You asked no one in particular, you can still feel the tingles you felt, how your heartbeat picked up, and how you felt like you were in could nine.

Quite the opposite from what Sirius felt, huh?

You never told him, never planned to. It was quite clear what his views are on the concept of soulmates when you saw him snogging different girls every week. It wrecked you; you swore you felt your heart stop beating every time you see him loving a girl other than you even just for a week. It sounds stupid and all, but you would give up everything just to know what it feels like; how he will look at you with love and adoration in his eyes, how his touch and kisses would linger on your body, and how his voice would sound like as his breath fans in your ear, whispering promises of love.

You looked at him from the Slytherin table; so close yet so far.

Regulus noticed, the all too familiar broken look in your face. His heart hurts for you, even if you do not tell him, he already knows. Seeing his brother’s indifference, Regulus’s gaze hardened. How could he have the guts to do this to his soulmate?

The memory of their mother's despair, the way she withered away after their father severed the bond, was etched into his mind. Regulus does not wish for anyone to feel that way, he does not wish upon it even in his worst enemies.

It was a pain no one should endure, a lesson that should have been learned.

Yet there sat his brother, laughing with his friends and willfully ignoring the pulls of his heart. The person who held the other end of this unseen tether, was beside Regulus. Your soul ached as you watched your soulmate. It was a betrayal of the heart's deepest connection, and it stirred a tempest of fury within Regulus that he struggled to contain.

“My brother is foolish. Eat.” He states, pushing your food and placing the cornbread on his plate to yours. She cracks a smile, chuckling. “Alright, Reggie. You’re lucky I love you.” You pat his curls, proceeding to eat the bread, smiling a little. Reggie never really shares his food with anyone, except for you. You’re the only exception.

“Padfoot.” Remus starts, looking out of the window as Sirius lays down lazily in his bed, looking at nothing.

“What, Moons?”

“If I say that I have an inkling on who your soulmate is, would you… look for them?” Remus asked cautiously. Peter and James perked up, eyes wide with shock. How could Remus possibly guess who his soulmate is? Unless… They’re also in Hogwarts?

“Don’t start with that crap, Moony.” Sirius sat up; a scowl displayed in his features as his grey eyes turned stormy.

“Don’t you even feel the slightest amount of guilt in your system as you snog other girls?” Remus frowned.

Sirius’s scowl deepened, his hands clenching into fists. “Guilt? For what, Moony? For not wanting to be chained down by some ancient magic?” His voice was a low growl, barely containing the emotions that surged within him. “I won’t be dictated by fate. I make my own choices, and I refuse to be bound by a bond I never asked for.”

Remus’s expression softened, the lines of concern etching deeper into his face. “It’s not about being chained, Pads. It’s about finding someone who complements you, who understands you in ways no one else can.” He paused, his gaze steady and piercing. “You’ve seen what happens when that bond is severed. You’ve seen the pain it causes. Is that what you want for yourself? For your soulmate who’s probably hurting somewhere?”

Sirius looks down, biting his lip and playing with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t plan on severing our bond, Moons- “

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Remus spat, Sirius flinched, looking at anything but them. He knew deep down that Remus was right. He can’t deny he also wants to look for his soulmate. The only thing that was holding him back is that he’s scared. What if your story would end similarly like how Walburga and Orion’s did? Dread fills his system as he reflects on how he slowly realized he’s becoming like his father. Peter and James exchanged a glance, the weight of the conversation settling heavily upon them.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of finding her… Scared of repeating the same mistakes.” He paused, his gaze lifting to meet Remus’s. “But you’re right. I can’t keep running from this. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”

James offered a supportive smile, feeling happy for his friend. Sirius stood up, his posture straightening as if shedding the weight of his fears. “I’ll do it. I’ll find her,” he declared, his voice steady. “I owe it to both of us to at least try.”

“That’s our Padfoot.” Remus breathes a sigh of relief as Peter nods encouragingly at Sirius.

The next daylight soon came. Sirius gulps, looking around the great hall, feeling quite overwhelmed at the number of students entering for breakfast, eating, or chatting amongst themselves. For the first time in a long time, he willed the red string of fate to reappear within his vision.

Ah, there it was. The red string connected to someone from the Slytherin table. Sirius felt his heart drop, seeing the end of the string connected to your pinky. “Y/n?” The name left his lips in a hushed awe, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the string connected to your pinky. You, who laughed with such ease beside Regulus, were the missing piece.

Whether it was some brotherly instinct, Regulus looked at him, shooting him a warning stare as if to say: ‘If you hurt her, you’ll never see the light of day ever again.’

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing eyes set on his friend. “Found her, Pads?”

“Yeah. Found her, Moony.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” James chimed in, a grin spreading across his face as Peter silently cheers him on. “Go on, before you lose your nerve.”

Sirius took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of Regulus’s protective stare. It was a silent challenge, a vow to keep your heart safe from his brother. With a nod of acknowledgment, Sirius stepped forward, crossing the small distance between the Gryffindor table and Slytherin.

“Y/n,” he said, standing before you, the red string pulsing with a life of its own.

You stilled, slowly looking in his direction. Eyes wide with surprise, searched his for a moment before softening. “I was wondering when you’d come around,” you teared up, making Sirius’ heart ache.

Sirius extended his hand, the red string wrapping around both your destinies. “Let’s talk, yeah?”

And in that moment, as your fingers intertwined, Sirius knew that whatever the future held, he had made the right choice. For in finding you, he had found a new path that began to unravel, one filled with hope and courage. The buzz of Great Hall continued, but both of them felt time still, feeling the bond weave into their souls deeper.

Sirius’s and Y/n’s story had its flaws, but it was theirs, uniquely woven by the red strings of fate.

#sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #soulmate au #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #harry potter #angst with a happy ending #sirius orion black #regulus black

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plumpybread · 2 months ago

Note

Asking because of the previous ask, are you not a fan of Ethan anymore? If so, why?

It's complicated, I suppose (rant where i talk abt ethan but then also my OCs in general)

I really do not like the first version of Ethan I made like 3 years ago. Obviously I like indulging in devilish ideas but I don't know, it ended up turning into something I didn't really end up liking too much.

Then I revisited and sort of rewrote his story a bit a while back when making the OC archive site (I'm aware the site is not available anymore for the people who asked, I took it down myself) and was much happier with it for a while.

Don't get me wrong, I like Ethan, I know he's the OC people seem to like the most, but it's still like a personal mental battle of like maybe it's too effed up? Even when I draw characters going through unwilling/accidental extreme weight gain, I make them either ambivalent or accepting of their situation, but for Ethan it's kind of like torture, and I can't bring myself to get like..aroused and excited to draw more of that *personally*.

Changing up his lore wouldn't really work either since his story is based on helplessness and stuff, and it'd be disingenuous to make him be happy with his situation, so I've just sort of subconsciously decided to leave him as is and treat his content as its self contained story more than nsfw art to goon to, if that makes sense. I don't know, maybe I'm just thinking about it too much, but just wanted to say what goes through my head.

I also don't really revisit Ethan for the same reason I don't tend to draw much of all the past OCs I've made, as I see each of them as a way to explore different facets of how weight gain can manifest and adapt into a character's life to create a story around it, and I feel like I've covered most of the ground around them already.

All of my OCs come from a sudden short prompt that pops up in my head, usually out of nowhere. I suddenly wanted to make a big-hearted southern farm guy who was super massive and I immediately ran to draw Rudy, for example.

I draw them a little reference, with my typical bullet points next to them with basic info to get an idea of what their dynamic is like, and a more lengthily written backstory or description if I'm feeling fancy under it, and then for the next week or two it's all art of them and answering questions about them... and then another idea pops up, and a new OC comes in.

It's not that I get tired of them, but I just simply do not know what to draw with them. Ethan is the biggest outlier in this case, since he is my fattest OC and half immobile, you just don't really know how else to bring something new that's not him laying on his bed at a slightly different angle.

I guess that's why I always do OC asks, I sort of need them to be able to know what to draw with them, since I struggle coming with things like that by myself, and you know I always like avoiding drawing a character in a void with no context.

The Genshin Obesity AU is my longest running like "project"?? thing just because there is an endless amount of content I can pull from since there's all these characters, places and possibilities I can write from. My OCs are obviously much more self-contained and moreso serve as individual experiments to explore different people and scenarios, so after the 10th drawing of them... I genuinely do not know what else I can add to them.

I hope that was a bit insightful. I know most of you guys love Ethan, and I love him too! But I don't know, I guess this is why I don't tend to have immobile/near immobile OCs, since the potential art ideas for them drop to just them sitting on a mattress or sitting on the floor and I'm just left confused on what to do with them.

Maybe Ethan in his college days is something you guys might be interested in? Or I don't know, I'm just writing this post as my thoughts enter my head.

Sorry for the rant, I sure do love typing, hope this clears up some questions people might've had

#ask

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sugar-coat-it · 1 year ago

Text

Body piercer! Matty

Part 2 , Part 3

May I present my pride and joy (and first AU), body piercer Matty <3, based on the 2020 NOACF mohawk era

Fem! reader

****CW! Needles, pain****

Contains: Matty piercing reader’s nipples*, lustful fantasies, praise, Matty has a tongue piercing, HELLA tension and pining, Matty being a sweetheart through the whole thing

*note, I don’t have nipple piercings lol, apologies if any of this is inaccurate.

Word count: 5313

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PART ONE- Fate lands you in Matty Healy’s capable hands when looking to get your nipples pierced. Tension ensues.

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The thought of getting your nipples pierced had been in the back of your mind for what felt like years. It nagged at you every time you saw a pretty girl with barbells poking out under her tank top, you wanted to be her. You’d done all the research, article after article on the healing period, the pain level, and the kinds of jewelry you can get. You also knew fairly well how they enhance sexual encounters, which had a whole draw of its own. You’d done everything except actually make the appointment. That is, up until a few days ago. Fresh off of a breakup and tired of feeling sorry for yourself, you’d called your local tattoo parlor and scheduled a slot with a body piercer named Maddie, then hung up feeling rather pleased with yourself for finally getting it done. The anticipation of the leadup to the appointment had you biting your lips raw. You’d gotten other piercings before, but never in a place so intimate. Never one that required taking your top off, that’s for certain. But friends had been encouraging you nonstop, telling you what a “hot girl” move it was, and who were you to argue?

Finally, the day comes, and you’re swinging open the parlor door a little too hard, evidently very tense. The bell that jangles when the door opens clanks against the wall, making the man behind the counter startle. Wide-eyed and wincing, you shoot him an apologetic look, embarrassed that you’d practically ripped their front door off the hinge. Great start!

Slowly, after making sure the door is safely shut, you approach the counter, absentmindedly toying with the rings that adorn your fingers, twisting them between your thumb and your forefinger. The man at the counter is exactly who you’d expect to be working at a tattoo and piercing parlor, but an even more stunning rendition if you were being honest. His slightly sleepy-looking eyes brighten a little at the sight of you, a fluffy mohawk of chocolatey waves sitting atop his head. He’s adorned with inked patterns along his skin, a patchwork of symbols across his arms that you restrict yourself to only glancing at for a moment. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he greets you with a warm smile, offering a little wave before you start to explain why you’re here, your voice uncharacteristically high-pitched.

“Hi, I’ve got a 1:00 appointment?” you explain before providing your name, trying your hardest to stop fidgeting.

Your mind is in about 20 places, and it doesn’t help that your heart just fluttered at the eye contact he’s holding with you. The man nods at you, a low hum rumbling in his chest as he picks up the scheduling book, sifting through the pages with black polished nails. When he turns his head, you catch a glimpse of the single silver hoop earring that he’s sporting quite well. Curiosity creeps up like a slinking cat, making you wonder what other modifications he might have. His narrowed eyes scan the book, toffee-colored irises flicking over names until he finds yours penciled in, jabbing his nail against the page.

“Yeah I see you, you’re with me then. And, you did your paperwork and payment stuff, it looks like,” he says, snapping the schedule closed definitively.

“Oh, no I don’t think…” you start to correct, tilting your head at him with confusion until you trail off into quiet.

That’s when it catches your eye, the nametag on his white tank top reads “Matty”. Then it clicks. Matty. Not Maddie. You’d scheduled your appointment to get your tits pierced with a guy. A very attractive guy that was now going to watch you squirm like a child. Your jaw drops slightly, a sinking feeling in your gut starting to fester as you realize your mistake.

“Everything alright there? Second thoughts, perhaps?” Matty prompts, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at you.

“No… no second thoughts. To be honest, I thought I had an appointment with a female piercer,” you answer, preemptively grimacing before you’d even finished your sentence.

“Oh, shit. Well, that’s not ideal. Listen, we can get you in here another day then, no problem. Tell me what works for you,” he says, already scrambling for a pencil to put your name elsewhere in the book.

“Actually, I think it’s fine. I’m already here, right?” you offer, shrugging to try and appear more nonchalant about the whole thing (your palms are sweating).

“Are you sure? Seriously, I don’t want you uncomfortable on my watch. It’s not a big deal to get you a different appointment,” he frowns, absentmindedly twirling the pencil between his fingers.

His eyes are strangely soft for someone with such an intimidating job, you can only describe the feeling they give you as melting. You can’t quite place why, but his presence alone is somehow quelling your nerves, even if it’s just a bit. Your hands start to still, dropping to rest at your sides as you decide to let him do it anyway. He looks trustworthy, right?

“Yeah, I’m sure. But thank you, truly,” you say, a soft smile pulling at your lips at how keen he seems on making you comfortable.

Matty nods slowly, rising from the chair while eyeing you like he’s not sure if you’re going to turn on your heel and run out the door if he looks away. He asks you to follow him to the back, you’re trailing close behind as he pulls his baggy camo pants further up his hips by his belt. The room he leads you to is small and fairly chilly, but only in temperature. The space itself feels homey, plastered with stickers and posters of various punk bands, it doesn’t feel like some sterile hospital room.

“Stay standin’ for me, just need to get some things,” he instructs, turning to reach for his supplies, including the jewelry you’d selected over the phone, “and, whenever you’re ready you can take your top off, okay?”

Without the pressure of his eyes on you, it takes a moment before you slowly ease your shirt up and over your shoulders, setting it beside you. You take a slightly uneven breath as you reach to fumble with the clasp of your bra, suddenly forgetting the muscle memory from doing it for so many years. The moment it’s off, the rush of cold air instantly sends a shiver licking up your spine. You lean back against the counter, trying to appear as casual as you can as you eye the piercer. Your eyebrows slope with admiration, softening your expression as you realize that he’s now aimlessly fishing through a drawer, trying to give you time to ease into undressing while he’s still turned around. He stays with his back to you until you clear your throat, signaling that you’ve finished. His expression is unphased as he turns around on the heels of his platformed lace-up boots. God, he really is beyond cool, isn’t he?

“Right, I’m gonna put these on, and then I’ll mark the placement,” Matty explains, holding up a pair of latex gloves.

Matty pulls the gloves over his sizeable hands, the bulging veins catching your eye as he flexes his fingers to test that they’re taught. He’s taking a few steps closer to you, now only about an arm's length away as he explains that he’s not going to touch you without the gloves, though of course, your first unfiltered thought is that you wish he would. His eyes hadn’t strayed from your face for even a second this whole time, being remarkably neutral despite the fact that you were topless. Though, you suppose that sort of thing must not phase him since he’s probably pierced tons of nipples. That doesn’t stop the odd tinge of disappointment that he hadn’t even glanced at your body. You swallow the feeling like it’s bile, knowing that it’s totally unreasonable to want him to gaze at you with anything but professionalism.

“Is it okay if I put my hands on you? Need to clean the area,” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort, it’s making you slightly weak in the knees, he’s just so fucking gentle.

You nod, rolling your shoulders back in preparation for him to touch you while he pours solvent on a cotton pad. His disciplined, gloved hands reach out, and only now does he allow his gaze to dip down to your chest. You could swear his breath hitches just a little, the quiet room allowing for the smallest sounds to be heard. Maybe he is just a man after all. The thought makes pride simmer in your chest, but you’re not dwelling on it for long, your mind going blank the moment he starts to swiftly swipe the pad along your nipples, sanitizing your skin and also effectively making them harden from the stimulation. You tense up, standing straighter than before as you bite back any semblance of a reaction. Matty throws you a glance to assess your discomfort, soft brown irises following the slopes of your features. He places the sanitizing supplies to the side, now uncapping a purple skin marker. This was going to be a long process if he kept looking at you that way.

“Nothing's happening yet, okay? Just gonna draw on where they’re gonna go,” he says, holding it up while raising his eyebrows as if to say “Look, it’s harmless”.

Matty leans in again, his eyes narrowing with concentration, gloved knuckles brushing the side of your breast as he marks a dot on the side of your nipple. Watching Matty stare at your tits with such laser focus has your cheeks flushing just slightly, heat prickling at the bridge of your nose. He runs the tip of the marker from one side of the hardened bud to the other, marking a symmetrical dot. Tingles spread under your skin like wildfire, he’s barely touched you and yet you can feel yourself buzzing at the slightest sensations. His pretty brown eyes meet yours and he just smiles at you sympathetically, knowing how hyperfocused on his every movement you must be.

“You’re not breathing,” he whispers, playfully jabbing the capped end of the pen against your arm.

Your eyes widen as you realize that he’s absolutely right, you’d been holding your breath this whole time. You release your bated breath, your chest heaving slightly as Matty keeps looking down at you, giving you a moment to regain your senses. You swear the eye contact while being inches away from him is making you more lightheaded than the lack of oxygen. With a satisfied nod, he resumes, repeating the same process of drawing the dots at the peak of your other breast. Then, he takes a step back, biting the cap of the marker between his canines while he evaluates his work. This allows you another moment to admire him as he eyeballs the symmetricalness of his markings. Your mind is wandering, perhaps trying to distract you from how intently this man is studying your breasts. You’re wondering what it would be like if he wasn’t so gentle with you. What if he touched you instead with greed, the need to satiate himself? In your head, you imagine the warm, honey tones of his eyes darkening like tinted glass as he drinks you in not as his client, but as something to desire, to want to feel flush beneath his calloused fingertips. This version of Matty doesn’t try to limit every graze of his working hands, he’s starving; groping, and mapping every part of your skin that he can reach. You’re jumping the gun now, the image flashes through your mind like a ricocheting bullet: Matty’s got you pressed up against the wall, his hands are mean as he grabs a handful of one of your tits, his thigh is hitched between your legs, keeping your thighs parted. His head dips down, his shaggy mohawk tickling at your neck as he tugs on the silver barbell through your nipple with his teeth, pain melding with pleasure till they’re impossible to separate. And, oh, fuck, does he have a tongue piercing? Your eyes flick down to his mouth now, mind reeling as you spot the silver stud on his tongue revealed by the way he’s chewing on the cap of the marker. You are losing yourself, and fast, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Alright, looks just about even. Would you go ahead and lie down there, darlin’?” he asks, cocking his head towards the reclined padded chair next to him.

Now is where the nerves are starting to kick in, it’s all fun and fantasizing about your body piercer until you actually have to sit in the chair. You were hardly able to mentally fawn over the pet name as you took unsure strides to situate yourself in the cold, plastic parlor recliner. Matty busies himself with preparing various metal objects while you stare up at the ceiling, squinting at the fluorescent lights and wondering why you wanted your tits pierced so badly in the first place. Then, his unreasonably darling face is in your field of vision, peering down at you with a consoling smile.

“Comfy?” he prompts, a needle in one hand and a small pair of forceps in the other.

It’s not a comforting sight, no matter how lovely the man holding them is.

“Sorta. I’m actually kind of a chicken about these things,” you admit with a wobbly smile in return.

“No… really?” he grins boyishly, clearly being sarcastic with you.

You shoot him a look for that, but it melts away into a little laugh, you can’t seem to even fake a cold stare around him, it’s sort of pitiful. Standing over you, Matty raises the forceps close to your breasts but doesn’t touch you with them just yet. You bite your lip, lifting your head to get a better look at what’s happening, even though you’re not entirely sure you even want to watch.

“Now, this is just going to feel like a little pinch, shouldn’t hurt,” he says, his voice lowering a little before he slips in a: “You’re doing really good.”

The praise tears your gaze away from his hands and onto his face, blinking in disbelief at the way he’d caused a fizzling pang of desire inside you so effortlessly. That feeling doesn’t get any weaker the moment you feel the cool metal clamp around your nipple, your lips parting with a soft gasp, hands tensing with the urge to hold onto something, to hold onto him. Matty’s pierced tongue darts out past his lips in concentration, soothing over his bottom lip as he lines the needle up next to the hardened bud. You jolt at the sharp tip of the object against your sensitive skin, your hand shooting out to grab onto Matty’s bicep in a moment of pure reaction. Both of you seem equally shocked that you’d suddenly clutched his arm, your nails slightly biting into his skin amongst the spattering of pretty freckles that mark him. There’s a moment of the loudest silence you’ve ever heard, his stare feels like it’s searing you. You’re about to rush into apologizing, but then he’s placing his tools back down onto his tray of supplies, tentatively reaching to rest his larger hand over yours, enveloping it in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, I’m just lining up my shot. I’m gonna tell you when it’s time, okay? Just breathe with me for a moment,” he reassures, his thumb rubbing tenderly over the back of your hand.

He takes an exaggerated breath, encouraging you to do the same, his chest rising beneath his white tank top. You mirror Matty, taking a deep breath in of, well… him. He smells like a dizzying combination of Marlboros and woody aftershave because of course, he does.

“That’s it, much better. It’ll be a whole fuckin’ ordeal if you pass out on me, so stay with me here. Can you do that?” he questions, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah… yeah, I can. Thank you,” you say softly, trying to disregard the sparks radiating under Matty’s palm.

You stay like this for a few breaths longer, Matty doesn’t look away from you and you’re not so sure that it’s only because he doesn’t want you to conk out. His gloved hand gives yours an encouraging squeeze before letting go slowly. The heat still lingers as he retrieves his tools a second time, the flexing of his bicep under your grasp reminds you that you should probably let go of him now. But, the moment you start to retract your hand, he glances at you and speaks in that silky tone of his.

“You don’t have to let go, s’okay. You can use me like a stress toy, or something. I don’t really care,” he shrugs, winking at you.

You just nod dumbly, your eyes going a little wider as you settle your hand over his bare arm again, right over the top of his Newcastle United seahorse tattoo. You’d like to use him in other ways too, but that’s not very appropriate, now is it?

You let out a sigh as you come to the same point in the process again, Matty lining up the needle diligently while keeping your nipple clamped with the metal forceps, but this time, you get to cling to his arm. You don’t want to distract him, because it would be your loss in the end, but there is a sense of satisfaction when you feel his bicep flex slightly as you trace your thumb along the symbol inked on his skin, following the curve of the seahorses mane with your nail.

“Okay, love. Here’s what’s gonna happen, I’m going to do it on three, and when I say three, I need you to take a sharp breath in for me, like this,” he instructs, then shows you what he means with a harsh inhale through his nose.

You breathe out a weak “okay”, already gripping his arm harder from the anticipation building up to a high. You decide it’s best not to watch, especially since you’d promised you wouldn’t pass out. You let your head rest back against the chair, your nose scrunching as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. Matty begins to count down, increasing the pressure of the clamp. 1. 2. 3. You inhale sharply through your nose at the same time that an unprecedented amount of burning pain reverberates through your chest, your eyes snapping open. You’re clawing at his arm, a cry ripping past your lips while tears well up and blur your vision. It’s a feeling so intense that it’s seeping through you to your stomach, crawling like the meanest sunburn. Of all the piercings you’ve gotten, you can say without a doubt that this takes first prize for the most painful.

“Oh, fuck!” you sob, the sound being embarrassingly close to a full-bodied moan.

Matty slides the jewelry through while swiftly retracting the needle, trying to stifle the way the sound you’d made was affecting him, echoing in his skull in a way he knows it shouldn’t. He doesn’t even flinch despite the way your nails are leaving angry, red crescents marred on his skin. He quickly screws the barbell together before completely retracting his hands from you, taking one more glance at his handiwork before consoling you, his heart seemingly aching for the pretty girl in his chair.

“I know, I know. Hurts like a bitch, but you’re halfway done. Doing so good, you’re alright,” he murmurs, reaching the gloved back of his hand to your face to wipe some of the stray tears on your cheeks.

You just whine, the radiating pain only now starting to subside as you keep your hold on his arm, now smoothing over the marks you’d left with your fingertips as if you’re kissing them better. His thumb grazes along your cheek for a little too long for it to be accidental. Matty’s praise while he wipes away your tears is making your mind fuzzy, it’s like he’s numbing the pain; the sweetest morphine.

Your gasps for breath are slowing, the pain like a dull pulse, easing its grip on you. Mortification is starting to sink in now that you’re not reeling from shooting pain. One of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen just watched you in one of your most vulnerable moments, and there’s still one piercing to go, much to your dismay.

“Fuck, this is embarrassing,” you admit with a breathy laugh at your own expense.

“Nah, don’t be embarrassed. You could’ve done much worse, probably,” he says, looking amused as he shakes his head at you.

“Like what?” “I dunno… like, socked me in the face as a fight or flight response.”

You laugh at that, a bright sound filling the room that makes Matty’s smile grow fonder as he gazes down at you with those pretty, sparkly eyes. The moment lingers on for a few beats, tension blooming between you that almost makes you forget about the throbbing ache of your left breast (almost).

“You do know I have to do the other one right? Unless you’re a bit odd and like the one-piercing look,” he reminds cautiously over the clinking metallic sound of him picking up his tools.

“I know,” you sigh, “can you do it fast?”

“Erm… I’ll do it as quickly as I can without making it cockeyed, but I reckon you’ll be fine. Besides, the second one’s always easier from what I’ve seen.”

He doesn’t seem like the type that would elude you for the sake of false security, so you take his word as gospel, settling in to prepare yourself for what’s hopefully a more tolerable experience. His next words have your heart thrumming against your ribs.

“Can you handle it?” he asks, more of a challenge than a question.

You nod at him quietly, absentmindedly drawing little feather-light swirls on his bicep. The incentive of his praise is becoming all too tempting. You want to handle it, you want to show him that you can do it. There’s a new, honeyed kind of heat seeping into your bones.

“Good girl. You’re a strong one, love,” he praises, sensing just how eager you are.

The next pulse you feel doesn’t come from your chest. Good girl? He has to be fucking with you. Jesus, does he talk to all of his customers like this? Does he wipe all of their tears too? Something in you wants to believe he doesn’t. He watches as your lips part slowly, your lashes fluttering as you look up at him. You have to know.

“Do you call all your customers that?” you whisper, blinking up at him coyly.

“Not really, no. Only the pretty ones who deserve it.”

Your breath comes out as a shudder, it’s unfair how easily he leaves you stunned. He clicks his tongue casually before getting back to work, all too pleased by the look on your face. You know the routine by now, Matty makes quick work of clamping your nipple and arranging the prodding tip of the needle just so. You’re still clinging to his arm, or your personal stress toy, something you’ve grown very familiar to the feel of throughout your time here. The countdown starts, he’s not giving you as much time to prepare. 1. 2. 3. What was more like a shriek from earlier comes out as a whine this time, a high-pitched, whimpery noise spilling from you. You don’t curse or practically maul his arm this time, but it’s still painful, you can’t say you’re fond of how vividly you can feel the needle go in and out amidst the burning sting.

“Beautiful, atta girl,” he whispers, screwing the end of the barbell on before leaning back to admire his work, his eyes unabashedly glued to how the jewelry sits prettily on your breasts.

You have no clue if he’s talking about you, your tits, or the job he’d done, but it makes your skin warm all the same.

Finally, you allow yourself to look at your chest, gently sliding your hand off of his bicep to prop yourself up on your arms and get a good look at the two new adornments. Shit, they look good on you, better than you’d hoped, and perfectly symmetrical thanks to him. He smirks when he notices the way you’re gawking at the piercings, knowing that the pain is barely a thought in your mind now, too distracted by how newly desirable you must feel. Matty likes knowing that one, he’s good at his job, and two, that he’s just helped you feel sexier. He’s really enjoying watching you admire yourself and in turn, his work. There’s a slight stir beneath his baggy pants, which he knows should never happen while he’s with a client, but you might just be the sweetest thing that’s ever been in his chair. He’s allowing himself a pass.

“Shit, Matty, they’re really nice,” you gape, your stomach swooping when you glance up to see the smug look playing on his lips.

“Yeah, they came out mint. Suit you nicely, don’t they?” he says, daring to dance along the line of being unprofessional as he then glances down at your tits and whistles.

What a boy.

“Thank you… for everything I mean.”

“Don’t mention it, you were great,” Matty smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he waves off your gushing.

Butterflies are rampaging in your stomach, god, why does he have to be so lovely? He looks like he has something he wants to say, but it goes unspoken, rattling around in his head instead. His expression is hard to read, but would you be deluding yourself to say there’s a tinge of longing? A few beats of quiet tick by, and you’re now becoming acutely aware of the fact that you no longer have a reason to be topless, awkwardly crossing your arms. Always so attentive, Matty suddenly straightens up and reaches over your body, his chain dangling in front of your face as he grabs your shirt and bra from the counter. He places them on your lap and politely turns away as if he’s never seen you undressed, clearing his throat like that will clear the thick tension in the air.

You wince as soon as the cups of your bra meet your immensely tender breasts, sucking in a sharp breath through your teeth as you power through clasping it. The sensitivity is something you’d been warned about, and now you get to joyfully experience it firsthand for the next however many weeks. Your eyes are on Matty’s back as you slip your shirt over your head, taking note of how rigid he seems as he gathers the after-piercing care papers for you. But maybe it’s in your head. You haven’t known him very long at all, it’s a dangerous game to assume any of the tension of this afternoon was real when you were freaking out for more than half of it.

“Right, any questions for me?” he asks, striding over to hand you the pages.

Are you single?Can we go out?Should we make out right now?How are you real?

“No, I think I’m alright.”

“Okay, well, if you’re not woozy, you can go ahead and stand up when you’re ready,” he says, clasping his hands together as if he’s wrapping up his job well done.

With the care pamphlet in one hand, you start to slowly swing your legs over to the side, noticing the way Matty stands at attention like he’s ready to catch you if your legs give out. But they don’t, you’re able to stand with minimal wobbles, shaking out your hands to try and relax your poor, recovering body.

The walk back to the front of the parlor is quiet, the both of you trying to grapple with the tension you couldn’t quite leave behind in the chair. There’s not much else to say, is there? You’re both standing next to the door now, and Matty retracts one of his hands from within his pockets to hold it out to you. Nothing says “I just blurred the lines of professionality while piercing your tits and now this is goodbye” like a good old handshake, does it? You try to keep your expression neutral even though this all feels quite bittersweet, grasping his hand with a firm shake. It’s the first time you’ve felt his hand without the latex glove between you, they’re soft, but you can tell he works with his hands, the callouses on his fingertips grazing your skin.

“Lovely to meet you, sorry I wasn’t a chick,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, you too. And don’t worry about that, I’m glad it was you,” you reply, perhaps being a little too sincere, but it feels right to say.

“... well, listen, get home safe, alright? Take care of yourself, call if you have any problems,” he says, once again seeming like he’s biting his tongue, keeping himself from saying something to you.

You reach for the handle of the door, but you don’t open it. You look back at him like you’re giving him one more chance to tell you what you’re hoping to hear, but he doesn’t, he just offers a nod with an unreadable expression on his face. Heartache.

“See you, Matty,” you nod in return, opening the door and shutting it behind you.

You evaluate your situation on the walk back to your car. You’ve rid yourself of the urge to get your tits pierced, and they look fantastic, but your new problem is that you have a massive crush on your body piercer that you’re likely never going to see again unless you get another piercing. It’d be a rather expensive hobby to get a piercing just to see his face, so scratch that. Your only option is to be reminded of him every time you take your shirt off, how miserable is that?

Little do you know, the moment the shop door closed behind you, Matty groaned with his face in his hands, mentally kicking himself for not asking you out, or at least getting your number. Sure, you were a client, he had to be careful, but shit, you weren’t just any client, now were you? What was wrong with him? Something about you left the body piercer stiff and tongue-tied, replaying every moment of your encounter back in his mind. Never in his life had Matty Healy felt anything for a customer.

—---One month later—----

After a hellish month of healing, scabbing, and getting your piercings caught on things, you’ve decided that there’s no real point in having nipple piercings if no one gets to see them but you. You’d like to tell yourself that you don’t think about Matty as much anymore, but that would be laughably dishonest. Dating apps are just about one of the most aggravating wastes of time ever, and you’ve had no luck meeting people naturally, so here comes the next best thing: blind dates. Your close friend fancies herself to be somewhat of a matchmaker, she’s been talking up this guy to you for days now, telling you how funny and totally your type he is, and nothing could possibly go wrong if she set you up. You have your doubts, but still, you find yourself in a cafe waiting for your mystery man to sweep you off your feet with his supposed punchy one-liners. What you don’t expect, however, is to watch a very familiar mohawked man stride into the place, the eyes that have patronized your dreams every night scanning across the cafe until they lock onto you.

—----------------------------------------------

Don’t you worry, I won’t leave you hanging with just tension, ofc there’s going to be a smutty part two <3

Thank you very much for reading, I hope it wasn’t underwhelming! And thank you to any other writers that I reached out to to consult about my ideas, ily, mwah!

#oh god I’m nervous about this one #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #the 1975 smut #the 1975 x reader #matty healy fic #body piercer!Matty

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weirdkpopgirl · 1 month ago

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only kissing you | jaemin fic #4

title: only kissing you

genre: college au, friends to lovers

warnings: slight angst, (y/n) is a little negative-minded, mildly suggestive, descriptions of kissing

word count: ~2.5k

author's note: hey guys, this was an idea that just sprang to my mind a week ago. i know the kissing booth trope has been done before and it might be a little cliché, but this is my take on it. also, i have a feeling you guys like this type of stuff lol. anyway, happy reading ^ ^

side note: "sunbae" is a Korean honorific for "senior." i wrote this story with the setting of the characters attending a korean university in mind.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You were sitting in the library peacefully finishing up an assignment that wasn’t due for another week. Yet you told yourself that staying ahead on schoolwork was far more productive than what most girls on campus were up to. The lively giggles echoing through the hallway reached your ears, drawing a quiet sigh of annoyance from you.

“Someone doesn’t sound too happy,” the familiar playful voice of Zhong Chenle brought you out of your thoughts.

Glancing up from your laptop, you found the dark-haired male in a basketball jersey grinning down at you. Unsurprisingly, standing beside him was Park Jisung, a tall yet shy boy who had recently dyed his hair cherry red after losing a bet with Lee Haechan.

Your cheeks flushed when Chenle called you out, but you quickly tried to mask it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, feigning indifference by crossing your arms.

Unfortunately, Chenle wasn’t someone you could easily fool— especially considering that he was able to crack through your reserved exterior by the end of your freshman year. Even now as sophomores, he could decipher your mannerisms better than your own family.

“Uh-huh,” Chenle replied, not sounding very convinced. “I think the fact that you’re like the only person here on a Friday night says otherwise.”

Jisung chuckled nervously, “Hey, let’s not peer pressure her.”

“Peer pressure me into what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Your suspicion deepened when you caught the spark of mischief in Chenle’s eyes.

“Into going to the student council’s kissing booth, of course,” Chenle then answered, as if it were obvious.

The mention of the fundraiser instantly set off alarm bells in your mind. “I still can’t believe Mark actually approved of that,” you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Well, Haechan managed to convince him,” Jisung said with a shrug. “And it is a pretty great way to raise money.”

You didn’t need to question further to know what he was referring to. Ever since the pink flyers with animated kiss marks had gone up, the campus had been buzzing with excited squeals from every girl on campus. Not that you could blame them when the line-up featured some of NCIT’s campus heartthrobs.

Chenle lightly nudged you on the shoulder. “You should go (Y/n). Na Jaemin will be there, you know.”

“Yeah and that’s exactly why I don’t want to go,” you exhaled, tapping on the mousepad of your laptop to wake up the screen.

Even though you dropped your gaze, the guys didn’t miss the way your cheeks started to turn red. For they were both aware of the “small” crush you had on the junior majoring in biomedicine. You cursed internally, wishing you were better at hiding your emotions.

Out of all the popular boys at NCIT, Jaemin was known to be the most attractive with countless fangirls. While you weren’t nearly as dramatic as them, you were not spared from falling for him. To be fair, you hadn’t paid much attention to him at first. It wasn’t until this semester when Chenle started dragging you to join his group hangouts, that you began to see Jaemin more often.

And it didn’t take long for you to understand why all those girls loved him. Na Jaemin was the definition of a gentleman. He was always respectful, holding doors open for you, and unfailingly kind in the way he maintained steady eye contact whenever he spoke to you. Not to mention his ridiculously long eyelashes that only added to his flirtatious charm.

Although Jaemin seemed aware of how attractive he was, he never came across as cocky about it. However, when you found out he was participating in the kissing booth, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d misjudged him. Maybe he was just like every other guy after all.

Noticing the disheartened look on her face, her friends quickly tried to reassure her. “Hey, it’s not that bad,” Chenle said.

“Yeah, they’re only giving out kisses on the cheek!” Jisung piped in.

Knowing that didn’t make you feel better. The thought of Jaemin, your sweet, kind Sunbae, kissing other girls— even if it was just on the cheek— made your chest ache in a way you couldn’t fully explain. Perhaps you were being selfish. It wasn’t like you were in a relationship with him or anything. He had the freedom to kiss whomever he pleased.

You let your gaze fall to the table. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just not interested in going, okay?”

Chenle and Jisung exchanged a knowing look, one that you didn’t quite catch. Despite their teasing, they could tell this bothered you more than you were willing to admit. But they weren’t about to let you sit here and wallow.

“Look, you don’t have to get in line or anything,” Chenle persisted. “Just come with us to check it out. We don’t even have to stay for that long if you don’t want to.”

Jisung nodded, chiming in with a shy smile. “Yeah, we’ll stick together. Plus, Renjun Hyung said they’ll be giving out free snacks too!”

Their lighthearted banter and genuine effort to put you at ease chipped away at your resolve. Nibbling on your lower lip, you pondered whether it was worth the risk of seeing Jaemin. At the same time, you didn’t want to be the one to dampen Chenle and Jisung’s mood. So, with a small nod, you finally gave in. Hopefully, you won't end up regretting it.

┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦

The event was being held in the courtyard of the student union. Just as you predicted, the area was packed the second you arrived. From a distance, you spotted the members of the student council gathered behind a long table draped with a light pink tablecloth. A bold sign posted on the table read: Hugs - $5, Kisses - $10.

Mark looked slightly reluctant in his seat, shifting awkwardly under the attention. Next to him, Jeno wore a bashful smile as girls giggled and pointed his way. Haechan, of course, was up to his usual antics, drawing laughter and cheers. And then... there was Jaemin.

He looked unfairly handsome, dressed in a knitted pink cardigan over a white shirt that complemented his honey-toned skin. With a smile as charming and inviting as his, it was no surprise his line was the longest. Yet, you couldn’t ignore the slight ache in your chest as you took in the scene.

Just as you began to entertain the idea of backing out at the last minute, Chenle took charge. “Come on,” he urged, already nudging you and Jisung toward the booth.

Renjun, seated at the end of the booth managing the money as the student council treasurer, looked as the three of you approached. His eyes lit up when his eyes landed on you in particular.

“Hey guys! It’s good to see you, (Y/n),” he greeted, flashing a polite smile. “You’re not gonna get in line?”

You shook your head lightly. “No…I just came to show my support with Chenji,” you explained nonchalantly, gesturing to the boys next to you.

The junior’s mouth parted in understanding. “Ah, I see. Well, I’m sure Jaemin will be happy to see you.”

An eyebrow raised, unsure of what he meant by that. Just as you were about to question him, Jaemin glanced up from his spot at the booth— his gaze locking onto yours almost instantly. A kind, familiar smile spread across his face as he waved, making your heart skip a beat.

“(Y/n)-ssi!” Jaemin called out, his deep, warm voice cutting effortlessly through the noise of the crowd.

You couldn’t help but smile in response, the gesture almost instinctive. Just as you lifted a hand to wave back, you noticed him rising from his seat and making his way over.

“Hey, Chenle, can you cover for me for a bit? Thanks,” he said smoothly, flashing a quick grin at your friend before turning his full attention to you.

Chenle blinked in confusion. “What?!”

However, Jaemin didn’t wait for a response. With a gentle touch, he took your arm and guided you away from the booth, leaving a bewildered Chenle and a snickering Jisung behind, clearly amused by the unexpected turn of events.

Meanwhile, you were speechless as Jaemin led you to a quiet hallway on the east wing of the building. The silence around you was overwhelming, and your heart was pounding so loudly you were certain he could hear it. He turned to face you, offering a soft smile before letting go of your arm.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, his tone warm and genuine. “But I’m glad you came.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Y-yeah, well... I thought it couldn’t hurt to visit you— I mean all of you,” you stammered, your embarrassment growing.

Jaemin tilted his head, studying you with a playful glint in his eyes.“Are you sure you don’t want a hug or a kiss? I can give you one for free, you know.”

“What? Oh, that isn’t necessary Sunbae!” Your eyes widened, holding a hand up in protest. “It wouldn’t be very fair to all those other girls.”

He laughed, the sound light and melodious. “Relax, I’m just joking. Unless… you actually wouldn’t mind?”

Gosh, he was certainly being extra flirty today. It made sense given the kissing booth, but you definitely didn’t want to be another victim of it. Still, his suggestion didn’t make your cheeks burn any less.

“I-I’ve never…” Your voice faltered, too insecure to finish your sentence.

A flicker of surprise crossed his face. “Never? Really?”

Unable to make eye contact, you fidgeted with your hands nervously. “It’s embarrassing, I know–”

“It’s not embarrassing,” he interrupted gently. “I’d be happy to be your first if you’d like.”

You stared at him incredulously. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Dead serious,” he replied, his expression unwavering.

Your breath hitched as he took a step closer. You weren’t immune to the pull of Jaemin’s peach-tinted lips, yet you had never allowed yourself to indulge in the fantasy of what it might feel like to have them against yours. That seemed like a dream too distant to even consider. Though your mind screamed at you to say no, your heart overpowered any reason. Slowly, you nodded.

With a smile, he lifted a hand to rest on your nape. He then leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to back away. But you remained still, closing your eyes as a final yes. The first time his lips met yours, it was soft and sweet— like a whisper. He pulled back briefly, his eyes searching yours. Something clicked in that single shared glance as if this unspoken agreement passed between you. In the next seconds, the both of you were leaning in for a deeper kiss without any hesitation.

His hands naturally slid from your neck down to your waist, while yours settled on his broad shoulders. As he pulled you in closer, his lips moved against yours in a steady, deliberate rhythm, the pressure deepening with each passing second. They were just as soft as they looked, and the more he kissed you, the more you felt yourself melting into him. At some point, the two of you stumbled and he was backed up against a wall— though neither of you seemed to care as your lips continued their seamless dance.

Although this is not at all what you imagined your first kiss to be like, you couldn’t complain. The world of college seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of warmth and intimacy. His hands tightened tenderly on your waist, grounding you in the moment, while our fingers found their way to the back of his neck. They brushed through his soft, bleached hair, drawing a low hum from him that sent shivers down your spine.

What was meant to be an innocent first kiss inevitably turned into a making out, but eventually had to come to an end. As the kiss gradually slowed, Jaemin pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. Both of you took a few moments to catch your breaths, cheeks flushed and heartbeats in sync.

He broke the silence first, his voice low and earnest. “Can I be honest?”

“Uh, yeah sure,” you said, unsure of what he had to say. Your lips were still tingling, feeling at a loss for words after that passionate exchange.

“I’ve been wanting to do that so long,” he confessed, his words hanging in the air like a secret he’d been holding onto.

You pulled back in disbelief, looking to see if he might be joking. “You have?”

“Yeah, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you after Chenle introduced us,” he began to explain. “As I got to know you more, I knew for sure that you were the girl I wanted.”

Though you appeared calm on the outside, your mind was racing with a whirlwind of questions. Was the man of your dreams really confessing to you? Had you been too pessimistic to see that your feelings weren’t one-sided? And if he’d liked you all along, why had he participated in the kissing booth?

Jaemin seemed to sense the confusion in your silence and spoke up. “I didn’t want to be in the kissing booth,” he said sincerely, “But all the other guys in the student council were doing it and Haechan wouldn’t stop spamming my phone until I agreed. And I wasn’t even sure if you liked me back so I thought-”

His sentence was cut off when you gently covered his mouth with your hand, giving yourself a moment to process everything. “Sunbae…I’ve had a crush on you for so long. But I just assumed it was unrequited.”

He took your hand, vulnerability shining over his eyes. “I like you so much, (Y/n)— you have no idea. If I had known you felt that way, I never would’ve signed up for the booth. I’m sorry if I upset you.”

“It’s okay,” you said, letting out a shaky laugh. The genuineness in his words was evident, and suddenly the kissing booth felt like a distant memory.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your heart for the umpteenth time today. “I just didn’t expect any of this. But I’m glad you feel the same way.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” he smiled, “Because I don’t plan on going back there. From now on, you’re the only one I want to kiss.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but they were the kind that made your heart overflow with pure happiness. As Jaemin pulled you into another kiss— true to his word— you started to realize that maybe, just maybe your quiet dreams weren’t that impossible after all.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

previous masterlist -> current masterlist

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cupcakeslushie · 1 year ago

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Hey guys! Just wanted to give a life update. I’m trying to plan with a friend to do a local market on March 9th, so things might be a little slow for a while. And I also discovered I have to move in a couple months, so now I’ve gotta go apartment hunting. I am not too happy about this fact :/ lol

I was hoping to get a lot of drawing done during the previously mentioned 3 day, at home EEG, which I had to do this week, but it ended up being a lot more….distracting and cumbersome, than I’d thought, and sadly I didn’t get much accomplished. (Basically for four days it felt like fire ants were living on my head and it was insanely hard to concentrate. And I could only get up, and be disconnected from the bundle of wires for like 20 min at a time)

Febuwhump has taken a big backseat. I might put out a few more pieces before the end, but I’ve got a lot on my plate with this market so I’m not stressing about it anymore. So if you don’t see me posting at my usual level during the next two weeks please don’t panic! I haven’t “left” or “abandoned” the fandom or anything. Im still plotting out the next updates for EW, Feral Leo, and Brainworm Donnie.

Also if you’ve sent me anything for the TMNT AU competition, please know I’ve seen it, and would love to reply but it may be awhile. We might have to eventually do a bunch in big batches, but I love everything I’ve been sent! And please don’t feel like this is me saying I don’t want you to send me stuff, just be aware I might not get to it immediately!

I’m not gonna be disappearing completely during this time, but I think I’ll only be able to post little sketches and smaller scale stuff for a few weeks. Bigger updates will have to wait, and be worked on when I’m done with the market.

So that’s the skinny, for now!

💚💚💚

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #slushie rambles #rottmnt separated au #feral leo au #brainworm Donnie AU #ew au

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signanothername · 3 months ago

Note

firstly: AAA YOUR ART AND COMICS AND STUFF ARE SO AMAZING!!!!

secondly: do you have any advice on how to come up with comics and then get them out of your head and onto paper?

BZHXHXHD THANK YOU SM!!!

And ooh that’s a good question

I usually come up with comics in one of two ways, either seeing something (whether another artwork, a text, something irl, etc) that inspires an idea for a comic, or via artworks I made that I expand on

Other times, it can actually be both

For example, the “A little life update” comic was actually inspired by this beautiful artwork, I saw it, and I immediately thought of Killer, idk something something about the despair of being stuck between a rock and a hard place etcetera etcetera (yes the comic that shows Killer to be in such a better place in life and show the hope he has, was inspired by crushing despair in actuality)

It made me wanna do something with Killer trying to call someone on a public phone, and so the first page came to be

Here’s the twist tho, I originally was gonna just make it into an artwork (yes, one single decision could’ve meant that comic wouldn’t have ever been made)

But a lil habit of mine is ask myself a shit ton of questions when it comes to my own artworks (it actually helps me turn what’s supposed to be artworks into comics), and that’s another way of how you can come up with comics, ask yourself questions, why is the character doing this? What are they doing? What if character did this? Etc

so I saw what was originally gonna be an artwork, and asked myself, who would Killer be calling if he ever did and why?

And the answer to those two questions that made sense to me most was Nightmare, but that led me to two more questions, when would Killer be calling Nightmare and for what?

And that led me to have a basic idea of how I wanted the comic to go

So it was basically like

Who would Killer be calling? Nightmare

Why would Killer be calling Nightmare if he ever did? That actually had different answers, to taunt him, to inform him of something, cause he misses Nightmare in his own fucked up way, etc

When would Killer be calling Nightmare? After he’s saved, or while still under him? After he’s saved makes more sense

What would Killer call Nightmare for? To give him an update about his life with Color

How would Killer be calling Nightmare? Through a public phone

Where would Killer be calling from? Somewhere in an AU in the surface

These six questions, what, why, when, who, where, how, are important to think of, they give you a basis to work on when it comes to comics in general

You don’t need to have a very clear answer to each of them to be able to work on a comic, but if you can at least answer 3 of them, that would give you enough information to work with in a comic

Now that I have a tiny bit of a clear idea about what I wanted to do (it doesn’t have to be perfect or completely concise) let’s talk about how you take these ideas out of your head and into paper

You can do that by imagining the dialogue in your head and then immediately putting it into paper, as I mentioned here, I actually struggle a lot with dialogue, art? No problem, I can easily imagine the art, but dialogue? It’s hell (please take the time to read the linked post, I talk in depth about how I handle dialogue)

That’s why you shouldn’t worry about perfection at this stage, just put every little piece of dialogue you imagine into paper, even if it feels like it makes no sense or is out of character, that’s something you can worry about later

Put in the dialogue, every little bit of it, and draw the panels that feels right for the dialogue

Here’s a little bit of example about what I mean when I say put the dialogue in then draw panels that make sense for it

This is a comic I plan on making, I actually drew that first panel as a stand alone artwork, then that inspired the dialogue, I wrote the dialogue down immediately, it’s a rough version of it, maybe I’ll keep it the same, maybe I’ll change it up as I work through the comic, but so far, I’m drawing the panels based on the dialogue so far, see what I mean by write the dialogue down? It helps IMMENSELY

It doesn’t have to be perfect and it certainly doesn’t have to be the final version, but writing it down will help you imagine the art that comes with it

Does that mean you can never start with the art then think of the dialogue? NO

You absolutely can start with the art for the comic first, in fact, sometimes, doing that actually helps you imagine the dialogue better, other times you can’t really think of a dialogue but have a very clear image in your head about certain character interactions, draw that it’s ok, silent comics focusing on character interaction, is a thing that you can do without worrying about dialogue

Now when it comes to the actual making of a comic, first tip is find your own footing when it comes to comic making

Like listen, people are gonna tell you that the correct thing to do is that you have to make thumbnails for the comic before you make the actual comic to make sure the flow is good and you have room for speech bubbles and what not

Here’s the thing, making thumbnails for your comic is a life saver, it’s great, if you can do that go for it! But for a person like me with little to no energy, I can’t do that without losing interest and immediately abandoning my comic, I can’t do that without becoming frustrated and hate art for it

That’s why I say find your footing, if making thumbnails before working on the actual pages works for you go for it! or you can immediately just work on the actual comic itself like I do, it’s all about what you’re comfortable with and what makes more sense to you

That being said, when it comes to the panels themselves, always aim for less panels and more pages than the other way around

Sometimes, emphasis on certain emotions or aspects of the comic can only be done with fewer panels

That’s why my own comics would sometimes have pages that are either one or two panels max

The less panels you have in a page, the more concise, clear, and easy to follow your comic is, one of the biggest mistakes I made as a beginner artist, is that I focused on cramping the story in as few pages as possible rather than focus on the clarity of the comic

Here’s an example

Good luck reading that dggxgdgdh

This is a very old comic I made back in 2018? 2019?, I wanted the comic to be one page so bad I cramped everything into it without thinking about the fact people are gonna have a very hard time reading it, like this easily could’ve been 3-5 pages but old me couldn’t imagine doing that many pages (if she could see me now with 15 pages comics dhhdhdg) not only that, but the panels’ arrangement makes 0 sense

So when you make your panels there are 2 things to keep in mind:

1- less panels and more pages = clear easy to follow comic, as well as a better emotional impact

2- panel arrangement has to make sense and should be easy to follow, you can make sure it’s easy to follow by reading your own comic over and over as you’re making it, if you find difficulty following the dialogue or art, then it’s best to refine, change or edit your panel or dialogue arrangement

Another thing to keep in mind when making the comic is the flow, the best way to go about making sure that the flow makes sense is by thinking of the comic as you would an animation, how did the character go from point A to point B?

For example this page

Killer clearly has a bit of a distance from Nightmare in the second panel, so how did Killer go from being at a distance (point A), to right in front of Nightmare in the last panel (point B)? That’s what the two panels in between the these two points are for, is to show you that 1- Nightmare is using his tentacle, and 2- that tentacle wrapped around Killer’s arm, the rest would easily be filled in by your brain that Nightmare basically pulled him closer

Now for the ending of a comic, not every comic has to have a clear ending where it marks the end of a story, but rather, you can go for whatever satisfies you as an ending, or keep an ending ambiguous or open, to expand on a comic later

I say that the perfect ending for a comic is what gets the point of a comic across, if the point is made, then it’s a good panel to end the comic with

Don’t be afraid to scarp any page or panels if they make the comic awkward or if they don’t make sense or if it seems out of character don’t hesitate to change, edit or completely delete it

An example is the “choice” comic, it actually originally was 4 pages, I just decided to scrap the last page cause of two reasons

1- it added nothing to the comic

2- it was out of character for Stage 2 Killer

My last advice is don’t force the process, sometimes, the best way to go about making comics is to make them on your own time and slowly, sometimes, you get stuck with certain things in the comic, other times, you need a bit to figure out how to proceed with the comic, completely normal in the process, that’s why it’s important to work on comics in a way that suits you, but you can’t find what suits you without trial and error, so go and test the waters, you can never learn until you practice it yourself

Good luck, hope this helps, lemme know if you need more clarification or help, i’d be happy to help where I can <333

#anothers ask #anothers art #ano saves asks

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