#a slipping of the ming
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let’s go commit atrocities together 👉👈
#tgcf#tian guan ci fu#heaven official's blessing#xie lian#bai wuxiang#calamity xie lian#天官赐福#calamity xie lian whom i love#it’s a crime i haven’t drawn him sooner#wu ming voice: pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease#my hand slipped
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The reason I think Disciple Shen Yuan could manuever Shen Jiu into not beating the snot out of him is because Shen Jiu can see in Shen Yuan's eyes that if he hits this kid he somehow loses
And Shen Jiu is a petty shitty abusive man but more importantly he HATES losing
So when Shen Yuan shows up with an audience and says "Shizun Ming Fang is besmirching your good name and the name of Qing Jing Peak by suggesting that Qing Jing cannot afford to house all its students properly. I tried to take it up with the Junior Hallmaster and then the Senior Hallmaster but neither of them were willing to stand up for the Peak Lord's Righteousness. Therefore I was forced to bring the matter to you"
What he is really saying is "If you let Ming Fang force me into the woodshed or retaliate I win because you just proved you're a piece of shit in front of too many witnesses with authority to make real complaints and also Ning Ying Ying is here and judging you."
So Shen Jiu in retaliation punishes Ming Fang, let's Shen Yuan sleep in the dorm and then punishes everyone including Shen Yuan for disturbing him. But its mostly just chores or volunteering at An Ding
Somehow he can't catch Shen Yuan alone and everytime something comes up it's in front of witnesses (why is everyone on his peak! Around his asshole of a disciple!) and Shen Yuan loudly proclaims how of course his Shizun will be Righteous and Just with his decisions with a look in his eye of "yeah slip up. I dare you"
Shen Jiu is a strategist. He will play the long game.
Only somewhere along the way they actually start to get along begrudgingly and he forgets to be abusive to this kid in particular
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I JUST FUCKING REMEMBERED I WAS WATCHING PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005) WHILE WAITING FOR GOOD OMENS 2 TO COME OUT AND I WAS NONE THE WISER. I DIDNT KNOW. OH GOD,,
#red cant fucking shut up#why the fuck did i choose pride and prejudice#i couldve watched like fucking emma again or something#idk how it slipped my ming for a week#🐍🥂🪽
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{note: i rewrote this, with b.s.t (hope someone gets the reference 🧍🏻♀️) anyway i cried, it got deleted first. i’m sleepy, hopefully it’s okay. minors DNI.}
warnings: smut. characters! m! x f! reader. characters are aged up to 21.
inexperienced men. who for the very first time feel, what a pussy feels like. your gummy, warm walls clenching around his throbbing cock. the way he clenches his jaw and gritting his teeth, to regain composure from cumming almost immediately. “f-fuck…so tight ..”. your pulsing soft walls suck his cock in, barely holding himself up. the way his soft, silky locks fall on your chest as he’s hunched over you. only gasps, curses and more whimpers slipping out of his lips. “so.. t—tight.. shit..”. pushing his full length into, till the base, gripping the plush of your hips, a bit too hard, in meek attempts to stop himself from painting your tight walls white. after what seems like forever, he slowly moves his hips, each stroke, sending shivers down his spine. he leans down to kiss you, again in attempts to keep him from moaning loud. he pushes his tongue into your mouth, his tongue lapping yours. but soon, the kissing gets sloppy, saliva dripping down both your chins. he leans down, burying his face into the crook of your neck. his teeth grazing the base of your neck, as his hips erratically, in haste buck against yours. the sound of his balls slapping against your ass, filling the room combined with his little whimpers and yours. “i-i’m cum-ming… f-fuck” he buries himself to the hilt, pushes himself even deeper, his tip bruising your cervix. his eyes squeezed shut, biting down your shoulder lightly. his cock, pumping ropes of milky, sticky cum. his cock twitching inside you, panting against your neck. just as he catches his breath, your walls convulse around his twitching cock, overstimulating. “o- fuckkk.. f..ck” barely able to form coherent sentences, slurring his words. burying his face into the pillow, beside your head, to stifle his moans. muffled moans, teary eyes as one hand gripped your waist tightly, bruising them lightly and the other hand gripping the sheets, crumpling them. his first feel of a vaginal orgasm. he presses soft kisses from your jawline to your neck, “it feels… so good.. one more time?.. please baby?..”. no longer will his hands suffice for him, as he felt what heaven feels like, you.
~ Choso Kamo, Gojo Satoru, Oikawa Toru, Nagi Seishiro, Inumaki Toge, Miya Atsumu, Yuuji Itadori, Kageyama Tobio + whoever you want 😵💫
#kay! writes ☆#☢︎︎.𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗍#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#jjk#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru smut#nagi seishirou#blue lock#rukawa kaede#slam dunk#haikyuu smut#miya atsumu#inumaki x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk imagines#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojo headcanons#gojo smut#choso kamo#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x you#naoya smut#oikawa tooru#hq smut
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apt 302 | sylus q.
— summary: at first, your new neighbor was as mysterious as he was handsome. after taking some time to get to know him—or forcing your way into his quiet life—you realize looks can be deceiving. — cw: gn reader, neighbors au, neighbors to friends to lovers, profanity, innuendoes, jealousy, misunderstandings, stalker ex, alcohol use, guns mentioned, self-indulgent, allusions to reincarnation, angst, pet names, sylus being an insufferable gentleman, slice of life — dividers by: @omi-resources — notes: this grew way longer than i expected, soooooo you’re gonna hate me for what comes next. anyways, thank you so much for reading! — now playing: my favorite person now - she was pretty ost — tagging: @alfredosaws, @chuppiechanchan @hao-ming-8 @antonneva @sunsets-and-crows @leighsartworks216 @grabby-smitten @nebulorra @minniestarmj @elysiums-light @saiaise @queenofstresss @beewilko @aetherscribit @libriomancer @world-of-hearts @awkwardnurse @huachengnism
Information Technology isn’t as cushy of a field as you initially thought.
Sure, you have a desk job doing the most mundane of things—working the help desk, troubleshooting devices, re-imaging computers. But your job isn’t without its drawbacks.
Sometimes, the days are long and arduous. The constant customer interaction doesn’t help matters; you’re a bit of an introvert, requiring five business days to recover from just a few hours of socializing.
So, forgive you for seeking a little respite in the form of your favorite set of pajamas and fuzzy slippers as you ease into your apartment.
The weight of the world sloughs off your shoulders when the door leading inside clicks shut behind you. You sigh gratefully, the sound of your keys clattering against your entryway table, intermingling with that of your AC humming to life.
You hang your bag and sweater on the coat rack. Trade your uncomfortable shoes for house slippers, the soreness in your heels slowly retreating. The last vestiges of sunlight creep through the slits of your blinds to bathe your home in its ethereal glow before ducking behind the horizon.
Your apartment is humble. Has a natural, minimalistic vibe with bits of decor displaying your personality sprinkled throughout. You already pay the price of a kidney and two lungs to stay here. No use investing in posh furniture when your job sometimes requires you to pick up and go at the drop of a hat.
Your stomach growls whilst you draw your curtains shut and turn on some ambient lighting via your phone. You’ll eat soon, you promise. For now, you’re on a mission.
Quietly, you move through your home in search of your laundry area, thoroughly prepared to slip into your PJs following a shower to jumpstart your weekend.
Too bad a pile of sopping wet clothes awaits you when you open your dryer door.
“Goddammit,” said under your breath as you mash the power button. It won’t turn on. Figures. You kick the offending appliance. Stupid thing must be out again.
You had set your clothes to dry before you left for work. You were looking forward to snuggling up with wine and your favorite show, donned in comfy clothes. Seems your dryer had other plans.
You should’ve replaced it months ago when it first started acting up. You had hoped to salvage it a little longer; appliances don’t come cheap these days. Besides, you’ve had a darling neighbor to fix it each time. To extend its lifespan.
Speaking of which—
Chewing your lip, you pad over your cold, hardwood floor to snatch your phone from the coffee table. Fall onto your couch cushions with a devious smile twitching your lips. It’s getting late, so you don’t think to badger him into tinkering with your dryer tonight. However, perhaps he’ll let you utilize his. At least until you can use your day off tomorrow to shop for a replacement.
You hover your thumb over his contact, his name flanked by crow emojis. Contemplate calling him, but what if he’s busy? This is usually about the time he’s leaving. Instead, you settle for opening your messaging app, already conjuring an excuse.
(You): 🐦⬛🐦⬛🐦⬛💥💥💥 (Sylus): lol (Sylus): good morning to you too. (You): 😒😒😒 dude it’s like 6 (Sylus): 🤷♂️ (Sylus): im just now getting up. long day at the office. (Sylus): whats up? (You): are you busy tonight?? (Sylus): not really. 😏 what did you have in mind ? (You): pause. not like that (Sylus): 😢 (You): my dryer’s out again (Sylus): ah. want me to take a look? (You): nah you already do so much (You): is it cool if i use yours tho? 😬😬😬 (You): i’ll bring you booze (Sylus): lol (Sylus): its fine sweetie. doors unlocked. ill be in the shower. help yourself. (You): 🙏🙏🙏
You take your time gathering your saturated clothes into a basket. On your way out, you snag a bottle of Merlot from your fridge.
No matter how often you’ve been here, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to how much more… put together Sylus’ place is compared to yours.
It suits him—the black and red furniture, the stylish accents littering his apartment. It smells delightful inside, a mixture of mahogany and amber enmeshed with remnants of food. Soulful jazz flows from a record player, fitting the sepia-toned glow of floor lamps and candles flickering on every other surface.
You toe the door shut behind you. Feel so small and out of place amid his decor. You’ve only recently started coming here, having spent much of your time together inside your apartment. Regardless, you navigate his space like it’s your second home, finding his washer and dryer set.
After starting your clothes in the dryer, you wander back to the living room, hands stuffed in the pockets of your cardigan. You take some time to admire the atmosphere. Fingers skim over the various vinyls organized on a built-in bookcase on the wall.
You snort with a half-smile. You know so little about your neighbor, yet you know just enough to be this comfortable with him.
He’s a music buff; that much is for sure. He’s clearly made of money if the luxurious furniture and his car are anything to go by. You don’t press him about what he does for a living. Figure he values his privacy above all else, unlike you.
You’re an open book. The primary yapper in your acquaintanceship, prattling on about your life and aspirations. And he just sits there, wordlessly nodding with a polite smile behind the rim of his glass. Where you would otherwise be wary of being in someone’s home like this, you feel safe around him in a way that almost terrifies you.
“Admiring the decor,” teases a voice from behind.
You jolt, spinning around like you’ve been caught stealing. You’re met with a smirk beneath scarlet eyes, twinkling with mischief. Strands of white cling to Sylus’ forehead, damp from the warm spray of his shower. He towels his hair dry, maneuvering around the living set towards you.
“Hey, you,” you greet, trying to play it cool. Like your heart isn’t hammering and heat isn’t branching into your cheeks. You attempt to maintain eye contact. It’s increasingly difficult to do so with his physique peeking through his t-shirt and sweats like that.
“Hey, yourself.” There’s amusement in the deep gravel of his voice. A smile in his eyes as he studies you, draping his towel around his shoulders.
You swallow. Try to divert the subject, motioning to his record collection. “You got some new tunes, I see.”
A chuckle is dredged from the bowels of his chest. You feel it pull in your stomach. “Sure did. Got something you might like.”
God help you as he reaches around you, the fine hairs littering your body standing on end, your mouth agape like a fish out of water.
Unconsciously, you step back, your spine softly thudding against the records display. Your heartbeat’s on a warpath, and you swallow against the dryness of your throat as the veiny, sinewy muscle in his forearm stains your periphery.
He gives you a bemused look before slowly peeling a record from the shelf behind you. Steps back to fish out the vinyl and settle it on the platter, replacing the record that was just playing.
You release a breath you were unaware of holding. Good job playing it cool, dumbass.
“You alright?” Sylus quizzes with a raised brow. “You seem a little on edge tonight, sweetie.”
You sigh, schooling an unconvincing smile onto your face. Try to ignore how the term of endearment glides off his tongue so effortlessly. You wonder how many other people he addresses like that.
“Work was…rough today. Kicked my ass. I’m tired.”
A snarling sound invades the space between you, heard over the gentle croon of the new music. Your eyes fall to your stomach. You rub it placatingly. In all your haste to have some dry friggin’ clothes, you forgot to eat.
“And hungry, too,” you sheepishly add.
You glance up, and Sylus’ gaze tracks from your stomach to your face. He smirks knowingly, motioning with a nod toward his kitchen.
“Figured you didn’t eat yet. I made carbonara if you’d like some.”
You smile wryly at his back as he pads away, carrying the scent of cedarwood and bergamot with him. Where would you be without such a doting neighbor?
You track him to the kitchen. Leaning against the threshold, you watch him procure a bottle of water from his fridge. It’s so very small, dwarfed by his massive hand.
“I suddenly got called for a Teams meeting five minutes ago.”
Your heart drops, the smile nearly falling from your face. And here you thought you’d have his company over dinner.
Suddenly, he taps your nose, drawing you out of your thoughts. You hadn’t noticed when he got closer, swaddled in the static of your bodies being so close. “Where did you run off to,” he rasps, searching your gaze for something.
The proximity of your bodies grows stifling, his warm breath glazing over your skin, dizzying. When he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, he steps back, leaving you shell-shocked and utterly confused.
“In the meantime, make yourself at home. You know where everything is,” he says, brushing past you with an air of finality.
You strain your ears for the noise of a distant door shutting before you make your move, rummaging through his cupboards and drawers for a plate and cutlery. After you’ve scooped a decent helping of food onto your plate, you settle onto one of his velvet couches, cross-legged and shoveling food into your maw.
The fluttering of wings piques your interest. You’ve hardly any time to acknowledge him before a tuft of black, iridescent feathers shines from Sylus’ coffee table. The crow studies you curiously, ingesting you with his beady eyes before he preens himself.
“Me-fith-toe!” you greet around a mouthful of food.
Said crow ducks away, dodging errant crumbs and spit flying from your mouth, cawing in protest. You give him a rueful look.
Sylus has a soft spot for animals. You noted it the first time you entered his apartment, greeted by his boisterous companion. Funny; he doesn’t look like the type to have such an eccentric pet.
But Sylus has found numerous ways of pleasantly surprising you, revealing parts of himself to you bit by agonizing bit.
“Chicken?” you say after finally swallowing, offering a forkful of pasta to the bird. Mephisto scrutinizes the food before resigning himself to pecking at it. You smile fondly, your eyes crinkling with mirth. “Mephisto, you cannibal.”
Lulled by the occasional flap of Mephisto’s wings and Sylus’ even tone murmuring things of business somewhere far off in his home, you fall into a familiar rhythm, quietly waiting for your clothes to dry.
You spend the remainder of your evening in your neighbor’s company, drinking Merlot and judging each other’s music tastes, long after your pajamas have dried and settled in the dryer.
“So, have you boned yet?”
You choke on your waffle. Pound on your chest with the heel of your palm to dislodge it. You turn narrowed eyes on the source of the question. She merely shrugs from across the table, sipping her mimosa as if she’s asked the most innocent thing.
“Bitch.”
“What?” She appears nonplussed, setting her champagne flute down with a definitive clack. All serious when she returns your stare over crossed arms, and you know you’re in for it.
“You talk about the guy so much I figured you would’ve already, ya know…” The humping gesture she makes under the table is a bit much.
You blanch. “No, dumbass, I haven’t boned.” Your voice peters towards the end of your sentence. And you peer down at the napkin folded in your lap, heat prickling your face.
You won’t deny Sylus is good-looking. More like he could be someone modeling Prada on a catwalk. Can’t pretend you haven’t entertained the thought of being a little closer to him, too. More than just the late nights spent talking or him fixing something you broke.
You shake your head. Of all the times you’ve been tucked away in either of your apartments, he’s never made a move on you. Sure, he’s said some pretty suss things. Flirted with you outside of your usual banter.
And maybe he’s done things to confuse the ever-loving hell out of you—cooked you breakfast when you were drunk off your ass and hungover the next morning. Lended you one of his expensive record players. Shacked up at your place a few times under the guise of “coming to get Mephisto.” But—
Nah. He’s not like that. You’re just neighbors, right? Unofficial friends. Friends hang out all the time, right?
“He’s not like that,” you say brattishly, stuffing more food into your face. At least not with you.
You don’t miss your coworker’s fox-like grin spreading in your periphery. She taps her cheek thoughtfully, watching you like a smug sibling about to snitch.
“Sure, sure. If you say so. He’s still a man, though. He might not have tried you yet—”
“Hush,” you interject. The table shakes, cups rattling as you saw into your sausage with your fork and butter knife. You’re done with this conversation.
Try as you might, however, you can’t banish your thoughts revolving around him. Especially with your coworker watching you like that, silently egging you on.
He’s not that kind of guy.
He’s still a man, though.
You’ve repeated it like a mantra throughout your day, even as you mindlessly clacked away at your computer.
Work was a blur. An exhausting blur. Day gave way to the soothing exhale of night, and you were finally nestled in the quiet sanctuary of your apartment, on your couch, entertaining yourself with a game of Uno. It wasn’t much fun playing alone, but you needed a distraction from the mess of your mind when your favorite show couldn’t help.
It’s a quarter past 9 when a shuffling sound in the breezeway outside your apartment catches your attention. It’s accompanied by the echoed rasp of a recognizable voice, chuckling and murmuring indiscernible things.
You peel yourself from your couch as if on autopilot, nose pressed against the cold metal of your door as you peer through the peephole.
It’s your nightly ritual—waiting like an overzealous puppy to greet or send off your neighbor. You don’t always get the luxury of saying goodnight in person. Sometimes, he’s gone for days—weeks—at a time. You don’t know the semantics of his job, but you make it your mission to help assuage whatever burdens he shoulders whenever you can.
He’s there to help you, after all. Whether with a glass of wine, a warm meal, or his company.
So, forgive you for wanting to be a decent neighbor. And you would be tonight if not for the scene that passes through the fisheye of your peephole.
It’s Sylus, clad in something flattering and expensive. There’s no mistaking his broad back and shoulders. The purl of his voice, the wispy dusting of alabaster hair on his collar. But the smaller frame with him, well—
Your heart plummets into your stomach.
She’s pretty from what you can glean from the limited view of your peephole. Donned in a dress that’s form-fitting, voice high and light. Giggling silly things, fastened to Sylus’ side, held there by a virile arm draped around her middle. She’s drunk if the sloppy lean of her body is anything to go by. Sylus angles himself near her ear to whisper something, ushering in a new set of giggles.
You watch with your breath corked in your esophagus until they slide into his apartment together, their enmeshed voices fading from the stilled walls of the hallway.
Huh. Well, so much for him not being that type of guy.
You grapple with this new revelation, a furrow between your brows, hands falling listlessly at your sides. Numb as you drag yourself back to your couch, bouncing comically on the cushions.
You don’t even know why you’re upset. He's a grown man with a…life. You think.
It’s the first time you’ve witnessed him bringing someone to his place other than you, but it’s only natural for a guy like him to have options. He’s far from hideous. Has the gift of gab, for God’s sake. He’s charming and the very definition of masculine.
It just stings a little, knowing that it’s not…you that he’s touching like that.
So, you are definitely not flinging Uno cards onto the coffee table. Muttering things to yourself, gripping the stack in your hands so tightly, the plastic squeaks. What’s even got your undies in a bunch? The man’s not yours. You’ve never screwed around. Never really showed signs of wanting to, so it makes sense he would seek pleasures of the flesh elsewhere. His world doesn’t solely revolve around you as much as you would like for it to.
You’re halfway through a third round of angry card-flinging before a soft rap at your door nearly sends you some 30 feet into the air.
Stomping to your entrance, you peek through the peephole, and your heart works overtime when you catch sight of a wash of black and scarlet.
Internally, you scold yourself for how gullible you are. You throw the door open like you weren’t just cursing him and his stupid existence moments ago. Try to act nonplussed, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe with a haughty look.
Of course, he would smell good. Look good, propped against the threshold like that, an amused cant to his lips, his physique devastating beneath the tight cling of his turtleneck.
“Hey,” he greets, the sound breathy and easy like warmed honey.
“Hey, yourself.”
He studies you for a bit. Eyes flicker over your face, and you tamp down the sparkling rush of warmth that wades over your skin at the attention. Even when you’re mad at him, your attraction still finds an annoying way of creeping through the seams.
“This is going to sound incredibly strange, and feel free to tell me to piss off, but…do you mind if I crash on your couch for the night?”
You stand up straight. Blink owlishly, mouth opening and closing. “Huh?” is all you’re able to muster.
He chuckles, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this side of bashful. “Yeah. It’s a…bit of a long story, sweetie.”
“O-Okay,” you say, rigidly moving aside.
“Thanks.” The charm is back on, turned up to max capacity. He brushes past you into your apartment, falling onto your couch with a huff. Quirks a brow at the mishap on your table, the carnage having spilled onto the floor.
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but were you playing Uno by yourself?”
You ignore him, plopping cross-legged on a floor cushion adjacent to him. Bypassing the tick in your brow, you look off to the side, fighting the embarrassment threatening to take hold of your visage. Shouldn’t he be across the hall, entertaining his company?
“Shut up and grab some cards,” you grumble to dispel the green-eyed thoughts stewing in your mind.
“Bossy.” But he doesn’t contest you, gathering the abused cards to shuffle them.
The remainder of your evening slides by with comfortable quips. With booze and a break to catch up on Love Is Blind—somehow, he’d roped you into watching it.
You had no idea he was such a sap. Nearly forgotten how miffed you were mere hours ago.
He assuaged your worries with an explanation as the sun crept over the city.
The girl in his apartment was an old colleague who’d gotten drunk and convinced herself that she was anything but.
Being a good samaritan, Sylus brought her to his place to sober up since the apartment complex wasn’t too far from the main strip of bars. He didn’t want any issues when she inevitably woke up. Messing with drunk people wasn’t his thing.
So that’s how he ended up here, inhabiting your couch like he’d always been a part of the decor.
He didn’t owe you an explanation. You were just friends. Still, you couldn’t help the quiet smile that twitched your lips after he cleared the air.
At some point in the morning, you both fell asleep. He looked all serene, too big for your sofa, but comfortable. You watched his lashes flutter from your place on the floor, his lips parting with soundless exhales. Even in sleep, he maintained that guarded aura, his arms folded across his chest.
You were bleary-eyed, gathering yourself from the hardwood to fetch a blanket to drape over him. He shifted, and he was so pretty with the sun bathing him in an angelic glow like that, his hair bright like a halo.
You were about to retreat to your bedroom when an abrupt knock tore you from your reverie. You glanced at your guest, ensuring he went undisturbed. He needed the rest. He was a night owl, and something about the sun vexed him, so he typically spent his days sleeping when you weren’t impeding on his time.
You moved to the door, foregoing the peephole to open it. Big mistake.
On the other side stood Little Miss Pretty from the night prior, impatiently tapping her foot. Her hair was flattened on one side, and her dress was askew. By the looks of it, sleep hadn’t been kind to her.
“Hi, good morning,” she sighed, schooling her expression into fake politeness. She straightened herself as best she could, but the white patch of dried slob staining her chin did little to help her plight. You bit back a snicker.
“I’m looking for a friend. He lives across from you. His name’s Skye.”
You quirked a brow at that. Skye? Oh, honey…
You wondered how many other people Sylus had fed a fake alias to. Or if Sylus was even his real name.
“Haven’t seen him,” you chirped over crossed arms. Pulled the door slightly closed behind you, barring the woman from getting a peek at him, nuzzled up so cozily on your couch.
She sighed with slumped shoulders. A childish pout warped her lips. Her voice shifted into something more bratty. “You sure? Tall guy, white hair, red eyes? You can’t miss ‘em.”
“Not ringing a bell, hun. Sorry.”
It was taking all of you to keep up this ruse. You were fighting so hard to tamp down your amusement. This woman reminded you of an antagonist in a Korean drama, the way she was kicking and huffing about.
“Where the hell did he go,” she groused. You watched her draw her phone from the pocket of her fur coat, your throat growing dry.
Your blood turned to ice when a familiar ringtone chimed in your apartment behind you. You stiffened comically; mouth hinged open with shock.
The woman’s expression morphed into one of suspicion. She tried to look inside your home, the upbeat ring of Sylus’ phone still flooding the uncomfortable silence.
She narrowed her eyes, trying to assert her way inside. “What the fu—”
“Hey, girlie. Back the hell off before I call the police,” you warned with a hand pushed to her sternum. She insisted on being unruly, so you snatched your taser from the entryway table, the telltale blue sparks and sharp whip of static causing the woman to jolt back with alarm.
“You’re both insane!” she shouted from the hallway, the stomp of her heels reverberating off the walls as she made her way to the stairwell.
With a relieved sigh deflating your chest, you eased the door shut. Leaned against it, glancing at the man of the hour. He was still fast asleep, his leg dangling off the edge of your sofa. You smirked knowingly, shaking your head as you disappeared into your bedroom.
You’d let him sleep for as long as he needed. And you’d give him shit when he awoke about his taste in acquaintances.
(Sylus): hungry? (You): a little. was gonna make some ramen if you want (Sylus): 🤢 (Sylus): that stuffs terrible for your digestion sweetie. (Sylus): how about i make you dinner instead ? (Sylus): at the supermarket. need anything? (You): 😲😲😲 (You): you keep spoiling me and i might think you like me (Sylus): 😏 (You): nvm. no don’t need anything. lemme know when you’re back (You): i can help with groceries (Sylus): now who likes who? (You): fkdkos (Sylus): ? (You): sorry fat fingers
You have a nasty habit of not using your peephole as of late.
Your apartment came with one for a reason. Sure, your neighborhood’s been pretty tame since you’ve moved here. But that doesn’t mean the occasional weirdo doesn’t slip past security, roaming the halls and startling the other tenants.
You’ve found yourself forgoing the use of it a lot lately, given the only person who typically knocks on your door is the guy across the hall. And he usually calls or texts before he bugs you, but that doesn’t stop him from being spontaneous. You suppose today is one of those such cases after he manipulated you with dinner.
Maybe his hands are full, you muse, unlocking your door. Though you’re doubtful he can’t handle a few bags. You’ve seen him in action at the community gym, thick cords of muscle rippling beneath a tan stretch of skin.
You draw the door open with a smile, expecting to see a customary thatch of white. What confronts you instead sends a tide of dread washing over your innards.
“Oh, thank God you’re home,” breathes a voice you haven’t heard in months. A voice that still makes your body stiffen, and your blood run cold.
When your senses return, you step back into your apartment, thoroughly intending to slam the door in your ex’s face. They’re quicker, however, wedging themselves in the gap before you can shut it. Grabbing for you, a crazed look warping their features.
“Baby, please! Talk to me! I miss you!”
You bat at their hand, trying vainly to crush them, to scare them off. It’s to no avail, and you wonder if they’re coked up, giving you a run for your money as they try to bully their way into your home.
There’s a softball bat propped on the wall, and your fingers brush the base of it in your attempt to grab it. Something to defend yourself since your taser’s out of reach, tucked somewhere in your bag.
The sounds of your struggle intermingle, your voice strained and panting, please please please, and your ex’s caught between sobs of your name.
Just a little further. Just—
Suddenly, there’s no more resistance in your door. You stumble against it, a wild look in your eyes. And then, there is the noise of a brief scuffle. Of a back being shoved against a wall, of rusting plastic bags, of “Who the fuck are you?!”
Amid your panicked frenzy, you glance up to see a back to you. Barring you from the view beyond your threshold, and your body’s awash with relief as you register your savior’s form.
“You would do well to piss off,” seethes Sylus, and there’s an edge to his voice you’ve never heard before. You feel it furling in your stomach, burning your lungs. And in this moment, you don’t know who to be more afraid of.
Your ex makes a sound of protest, but you imagine the cut of Sylus’ eyes deterring them.
There is the scuffling of shoes across the concrete flooring of the breezeway, and you listen with bated breath until the cacophony fades at the foot of the stairs, willing your heart to ease down.
Scarlet eyes shift to you, brows knit with concern. “Who was that?” Sylus asks, tone cautious as if he doesn’t want to startle you more than you’ve already been.
You right yourself, smoothing out the wrinkles of your clothes. Finally grab your bat, waving it intimidatingly as you step aside to let your neighbor in.
“My stupid ex. Just know you saved their life. ‘cause I was gonna—” You make swinging gestures, the metal bat swooping in the air. The corners of Sylus’ eyes crinkle.
“Slow down before you hurt yourself.” He kneels to retrieve the bags he’d tossed down in his haste to intervene. You scurry over to help, gathering up spilled food.
Once you’re both inside, the bags placed haphazardly on the counter, you’re seated on your sofa, nursing the rush of adrenaline still spuming through you like the hot rush of a geyser.
“You need to get a restraining order,” says Sylus. He emerges from your kitchen with a tense set to his jaws, two bottles of Angry Orchard clasped between his fingers.
Plopping down beside you, an arm draped over the headrest, he shoves a bottle into your hand, side-eyeing you as he throws his head back for a swig.
You babysit the cider, the crisp condensation of it serving to ground you. “Yeah, yeah.”
“I’m not asking, sweetie.”
You bristle under the weight of his tone, feeling much like a scolded child. You know this. Should’ve done it long ago the first time your ex took it upon themselves to do surprise pop-ups at your place—at your job.
“And an alarm system.”
“I know, I know.”
“I can take you right now to look for one—”
“I got it, Sy! Fuck, I-I got it.” You release a weighted sigh, warring with yourself.
Not only do you feel silly for being so lackadaisical with your life. But now, you feel even worse for the seemingly impenetrable silence that settles between you. You didn’t mean to yell, frustration and adrenaline having burbled to the surface. He was just worried. No need to take your emotions out on him.
Sylus exhales slowly, an unreadable expression descending onto his face whilst staring at the wall.
“Sorry,” you murmur, unconsciously patting his quad. You don’t miss how he stiffens; don’t miss the tight coiling of tendons in his neck. You retract your hand, instead drumming your fingers along the bottom of your bottle.
“I’m assuming this isn’t the first time this has happened,” queries Sylus in an attempt to dispel the tense atmosphere.
You shake your head, shrinking into yourself. Stare at your lap, pulling at some frayed threads in your bottoms.
“How did they even manage to get up here?”
You shrug. The security guards at the gates aren’t always the most attentive. Besides, sometimes, the pin pad leading into the lobby malfunctions, making it easier for anyone to just slip into your complex.
Unprompted, you begin to bare yourself, explaining the possibilities of why your ex showed up.
Sylus listens attentively. Doesn’t interrupt you, watching the subtle shifts of your expressions as you speak.
You tell him that things weren’t bad in the beginning about two years ago. How your ex said and did all the right things, and they were wonderful. But they wanted something you weren’t ready for. You had some growing up to do, so you broke things off. Moved to another city, started a new job.
You didn’t bank on them following you.
The visits were random at first. Occasional run-ins at the park, the bar. Things soon blossomed into something more concerning when your ex found your new address after you relocated to another part of the city to ease the stress of the commute.
This was their second time making an appearance at your door. You knew you should’ve done something to protect yourself sooner, but you didn’t think much of it then. Figured they would live and let be. Today proved otherwise.
“You’re grossly naive, sweetie.”
You snort before gulping down the remnants of your cider. “Way to make me feel better.”
He chuckles, and it’s comforting, your thighs pressing together amid your dinky couch. “It’s what I’m here for. But I could understand how you could drive someone to such extremes.”
You glare at him. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means…”
Before you know what’s about, he’s panning in, flooding your vision with the scarlet shine of his eyes. With the wispy dance of his lashes until his breath fans over your molten cheeks. Limber fingers sneak beneath your chin, slightly tilting your head back.
Warmth wades over you. Your breath swells in your chest. Lips purse as a mysterious shade of burgundy leaks over his irises. His voice drops a few octaves, husky, the sound of it pinching in your stomach.
“It means that you’re someone worth fighting for.”
You scoff, shaking yourself away from his hold. Ignore the bashfulness creeping into your face in favor of being a cheeky little shit.
“All right, Li Shang. Getting a little too serious over there.”
He huffs a laugh in response, popping up to grab another round of ciders from your fridge.
Ingredients sat untouched on the countertop as your evening eased by. You’d settled on a pizza, catching up on shows and talking, long after the moon had pinned itself to the center of the sky.
Sylus promised to teach you how to use a gun. He had plenty and would carve out time in his schedule to take you to a range. He didn’t press much after, instead letting the weight of your evening melt from your shoulders.
He was reluctant to leave you, even after sunbeams spilled through your blinds and you snoozed so quietly, cheek propped against his shoulder.
His hand never left your thigh. Possessive in its touch as he mirrored your affections from before.
It’s strange.
Today is your birthday. You’re enjoying yourself, filled with enough alcohol to tranquilize a small goat.
Your co-workers had dragged you out. Surprised you with dinner, a cake. Took you to the strip of bars lining the streets adjacent to your apartment complex. You were all smiles until your cheeks ached, and you’d nearly thrown up from laughing so much.
Still, you feel…empty. Like something is missing. Or someone.
You look at your phone for the umpteenth time. Scroll through your messages, reliving the moment in your head.
Sylus was the first to wish you a happy birthday. It made you swell with overwhelming happiness, knowing he’d woken up so early to be the first to say it. You don’t think you’ve ever cried harder when he sent a voice message of him singing “Happy Birthday.”
God, for everything he was good at, poor baby couldn’t hold a note to dig himself out of a hole. Still, you cherished the gesture, lying in bed for the first hour you’d been awake, replaying said message and rolling around your bed like an enamored teen.
Even now, you replay the voice note, holding the speaker to your ear. It’s hard to hear it amid the live band playing and the merriment around you at the bar. Try as you might to enjoy what remains of your night, you can’t keep your thoughts from drifting back to a certain smug figure clad in black.
(You): 🐦⬛🐦⬛🐦⬛💥💥💥 (Sylus): hows it going birthday babe? (You): 😭😭😭 (You): u shuld be her e (Sylus) im sorry sweetie. i had some work to catch up on. (Sylus): you must be having a good time. 😏 (You): fuk wrk 🖕🖕🖕 (You): am not drink ur dronk (Sylus): lol. you sound plastered. (Sylus): do i need to come rescue you? (You): hum (Sylus): ? (You): hone (You): home (Sylus): 🫤 (Sylus): we need to have a serious talk about you enabling autocorrect. (You): r u (You): home (Sylus): about to be. why ?? (Sylus): sweetie?
Somehow, you find yourself staring at the glossy, black numbers embossed on the top center of his door. 302. It’s ingrained in your memory. You’d probably find your way to his apartment with your eyes closed, driven to it by the familiar smell and homeliness it exudes.
You’re still a little tipsy. Took some time to sober up as best you could before ditching your friends and catching an Uber back to your complex. You had enough sense to gather everything you’d shown up with. Didn’t hitch a ride with any strangers regardless of how many of them tried to pull you into their arms as you stumbled out of the bar.
You had a one-track mind. Only wanted to spend the rest of your birthday with him.
With a goofy smile plastered on your face, you knock on his door. You’re singing that infectious song you can’t get out of your head when it swings open.
“Apateu-pateu, apateu-pateu,” you chant, shaking your hips from side to side.
He greets you with an omniscient smirk, eyes softening whilst leaning against the doorframe. “Well, hello, birthday babe.”
“Sup!” you return a little too enthusiastically, pitching forward until Sylus steadies you with his hands. You giggle like a drunken fool, peering at him. Hadn’t realized how good his hands felt, searing through the fabric of your top.
Come to think of it, you hadn’t noticed many things about him before. His lips are a pretty shade of pink. Skin textured, nose sharp, cheeks high. Little flecks of amber dwell between the scarlet rinse of his eyes. His hair falls into his face, damp from the shower he probably had before answering the door.
“I take it you had a good night,” he says, gaze painting a steady triangle between your eyes and mouth.
“Almost,” you whisper back, surprised by the huskiness of your voice. You lose yourself in the idle stir of his eyes. In the fragility of his smile, and you feel so safe in his hands like this.
You don’t know what compels you to do it. To conquer the space of hot, dizzying breaths between you. But, you sort of…well…
Your inhibitions hit the floor. With your fingers wrapped tenderly around his wrists, you angle yourself closer to kiss him. You almost pull away when he stiffens. But he seemingly relaxes, and his lips cautiously move against yours as he unconsciously guides you closer.
You cling to the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He encircles your waist in his powerful arms, fastening you to the hard press of his body. He kisses you like he’s waited lifetimes to do it, one hand molding around the apple of your cheek.
When your tongue sloppily prods the barrier of his teeth, he bristles. Draws away from you with a resounding smack, blinking wildly. You’re confused. Your heart sinks. You try again to draw him back in, but he gently pushes you away, shaking his head to dispel the bleariness. To chase away the spell that’s fallen over you.
“Baby, wait. No. Not…not like this,” he rasps through kiss-swollen lips, holding you by your hips. You’re wounded. A hot flush of embarrassment washes over you, and your brows knit together like those of a confused puppy.
“Wha-what’s wrong? Did I—am I—”
“No, no, you’re…you're perfect,” he soothes with a chuckle, a thumb gliding over your bottom lip. “Beautiful, even. I just…I don’t think now is a good time to do this.”
“Oh.” You deflate, a scorching film of tears clouding your vision. “Oh, okay. Um, I’ll just—yeah, I’ll go. I’ll…see you around, I guess.”
You slide out of his arms, too mortified to look back as you fumble with your keys. After he murmurs a hoarse, “good night.” Did you misread him before? Misinterpret his actions, his words?
You’re numb as you sink into your couch. Sobriety slowly creeps in. Stray tears blister your cheeks, but you don’t full-on sob. Can’t bring yourself to, instead laughing hysterically with your face buried in your hands, swallowed by the bleak loneliness of your apartment.
Happy Birthday, indeed.
#sylus x reader#sylus x you#neighbor au#neighbors to friends#friends to lovers#sylus#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus love and deepspace#qin che#sylus fluff#sylus romance#lnds x reader#love and deepspace fic#gn reader#apt 302/304 series
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𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡
when does he realize he’s fallen inlove with you?
c. cyno, kinich, thoma, kaveh, ga-ming, zhongli, scara/wanderer, xiao
t. might be slightly ooc as this is a multicharacter hc, friends to … to friends LOL, fluff, wc 0.4k
as always, author notes at the end!
He realizes it when you are laughing along with him. The two of you hanging off the top of the cliff of a mountain that took hours to climb, sitting on the edge of the plank platform and feeling the wind glide across your hair. He smiles—looking at you with eyes filled with nothing but adoration. He slips a silent thank you for joining him, in this spontaneous hiking trip, for just being with him at this very moment. He loves you more than you’ll ever know, but he won't be able to say that outright no matter how hard he tries, often shoving those feelings down his throat in hopes that you would stick around a little more. Because what would happen if you ended up not feeling the same way? He’d rather have you with him, as a friend, than nothing at all.
cyno, kinich
You find yourself often helping him out with his daily errands for the day. You know it’s exhausting for him, carrying crate after crate, negotiating with the merchants, doing something after another. Your presence alone in these seemingly mundane tasks makes him look forward to these silly things that he once viewed as tiresome. He gets a few hours with you by his side, chatting about everything and nothing, smiling about the stupid things you see along your way—this one is just any regular day for you, but when accompanied with the racing of his heart as he sees you happy being with him, it's certainly a special day for him. One that he’ll treasure, deep in his heart.
thoma, kaveh, ga-ming, zhongli
He claims that it’s nothing. All your attempts at getting close with him, your frequent invites to go somewhere and coincidentally losing the third ticket that was supposed to be for your other friend, you insisting that you stay with him until the sun goes down—no matter where the two of you were. He knows it means something, but he doesn't want to be the one at fault for plain out assuming you liked him. I mean, out of everyone, you really chose him? He says to himself that he'd do his best to show his disinterest, hoping that would stray you off and make you rethink your decisions. He doesn’t act on that thought in the end, finding your presence much better than whatever the wind has to say. It’s too soon to tell you that he loves you anyway.
scaramouche/wanderer, xiao
@ knnichs 2023 ﹑ do not repost, republish, translate, feed to ai or modify any of my works. doing so can and will result into me blocking you.
oh brother i was debating if i should put sethos up on the first one… if you want to you can actually pretend that his name is on the list since i was ABOUT to do it anyway HELP !!! ANYWAY i have a volleyball tournament for the next two days ,, if we win then there will be another vb!reader post soon . other than that i really miss writing for the women of genshin impact sigh. i miss navia. i miss furina. i miss hu tao. i might make a part 2 girl kisser edition,, I REALLY WANT TO !!!!1!!! itll be so much cuter id literally pour my entire soul into it.. ANYWAY see you folks ill be back again soon with a better fic for the network & even more vb au,, my inbox will be open for brainrots & chatting and u can even drop in a request if you want, ill see if i can do it !!
#—stellaronhvnters.#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin fluff#genshin impact x reader#cyno x reader#kinich x reader#thoma x reader#kaveh x reader#ga ming x reader#zhongli x reader#scara x reader#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#xiao x reader
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mdni. reader has breasts. virgin ga ming my beloved <3 i may write additional parts!
“is this okay?” ga ming asks breathlessly, broad hands slipping beneath your shirt to trace your curves. you’re straddling his waist, running your fingers through his tousled hair, pulled down between feverish kisses.
“more than okay. in fact,” you peel off you shirt then grasp his wrists, slowly dragging them up until his palms cup your exposed breasts, “this is even better.”
“oh,” he breathes.
his eyes are wide—spilled honey, sticky sweetness seeping into your bones. he sits in awe for a moment before gently squeezing, gaze darting up to yours, asking permission. the smile that curls your lips encourages him; he pinches your nipples as you pull him in for a scorching kiss.
you decide to play with the throbbing tent in ga ming’s pants, grinding down on him, lapping at and swallowing up each of his needy moans. his touch moves from your breasts to rest on your ass—until he jerks away as though burned.
“shit, i didn’t ask. i’m so sor—”
you cut him off by brushing your lips against the freckle that dots his neck; he shivers. “you can touch me wherever you want,” you whisper against his skin.
ga ming flushes at your words, cheeks and ears turning a dusky rose. his hands drift back down to your ass and knead the flesh. you whimper at the sensation and he bucks up against you before chasing your lips. he lazily bounces you on his lap, spit dribbling past his lips and smearing, glistening on your chin. you both speed up your movements, panting into each other’s mouths.
“this feels—oh, archons,” he whines through gritted teeth before his cock twitches and wetness soaks through your clothes.
his neck is scarlet and he throws an arm across his face. “gah, i can’t believe i did that,” ga ming huffs. “sorry.”
you tug at his arm before standing up. “what are you apologizing for?” you shimmy out of your shorts and underwear and watch his adam’s apple bob. “we’re just getting started.”
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004 | burning desire
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚。⋆ ୨୧
I don't wanna know, if you're playing me Keep it on the low Cause my heart can't take it anymore And if you creeping, please don't let it show
🎧: creepin' - the Weeknd
previous | 004| next
pairings: ot8 x f!reader ( K.Y.S x reader)
w.c : 7.7 k ( sorry for any errors)
cw: mature, ,minors do not interact, nsfw, reader is afab, mentions of assassination, hinted violence, slow burn ( for Wooyoung), polyamory, smut ahead ,oral, size kink, voyeurism, peeping Tom! Wooyoung, light bondage, eavesdropping, Mingi’s nickname for reader is baby, masturbation, Yeosang is very sweet here, some humor ahead, San is a cutie as always, hinted San smut, hinted San, Ming x reader, Wooyoung is even more confused now BUT HE"S GETTING CLOSE TO THE TRUTH
REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.
a/n : CHAPTER 4! To keep me going and support this series, make sure to leave comments about your thoughts and reactions! You can do this in my askbox too huhu! I hope you guys like this chapter and I know this was a very quick update after chapter 3! The next update may be after New Years!!! Thank you so much for reading my series!!!
This chapter is dedicated to ୨୧ @songmingisthighs ୨୧ (for helping me build ideas for inspo for the next chapters and fangirling with me. It really kept me inspired and excited to write more chapters. I included those gifs for u <3 )
It’s been almost three weeks since you’ve returned, 20 days to be exact, Wooyoung counted. 20 days and he’s still not over his crush on you. Was it even a crush anymore at this point?
“Hey focus.” Yeosang’s voice snapped him out of his many spirals over you.
The former Prince’s gloved fist came close to his face and Wooyoung quickly raised both his arms to block the jab.
“I’m focused.”
“No, you’re not.” Yeosang jabbed him on his side that his friend failed to evade which just led to one blow to another and before he knew it Wooyoung was on the floor again for the third time since their sparring session started.
“You’re probably thinking too much.” Your voice echoed in the gym as you approached them on the black padded boxing ring. “That’s why your movements are slow.”
You gave the two handsome men a quick look over. Their skin glistened with perspiration and they both had their boxing gloves on. Wooyoung sported a loose tank top which showed off his toned arms while Yeosang wore a compression shirt that only accentuated his statuesque physique. His muscles were getting bigger…and among the members Yeosang and San were the ones who built and grew muscle quickly due to genetics, and god, you loved those genetics.
“Good morning, darling.” Yeosang hummed with that princely smile of his and you couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed in your cheeks at his term of endearment for you.
“Morning, Yeosang. Wooyoung.” You nodded in the other man’s direction whose chest was rising and falling fast as he caught his breath.
“Why don’t you give him a few pointers?” Yeosang wiped the sweat on his brow with his arm before heading towards where you were at the edge of the sparring ring.
You weren’t busy.
Wooyoung watched as you ducked beneath the foamed barriers, your eyes briefly meeting his as you passed Yeosang who leaned over to whisper something. You stared at Wooyoung as Yeosang’s deep smooth voice vibrated in your ears.
“Go easy on him, dear.”
You smirked a little at that before slipping off your trainers and sauntering towards Wooyoung with a false aura of ease to make sure his defenses were low.
“No gloves?” Wooyoung raised a brow as he stood up, not backing down on the challenge. He knew he should be more alert with you, especially with San said about your hand-to-hand combat mastery.
“Don’t need them.” You shrugged, stretching and swinging your arms and body to get your body a little warm.
Yeosang sat on the exercise bench in the gym that looked over the ring, curious to how this interaction would turn out.
“Don’t go easy on me.” You told him with a smile that he couldn’t read, it was alluring and sweet despite the fact you two were going to be throwing hands at each other.
“And don’t go easy on me.” He huffed, raising his gloved hands to shield his face and getting into stance whilst trying to ignore how pretty you looked in a simple tee and gym shorts with these cute strings on each side that scrunched them up in a pretty and sexy way. “I’m sure I can handle it.”
You only nodded and pulled the hem of your slim-fit tee down.
“Oh, you guys are sparring.” The sweet gentle voice of the vice-captain reached everyone’s ears and you glanced at the gym entrance to see the ethereally handsome man enter in a black tank top and matching sweats. “Morning, Y/N.” He smiled your way.
Wooyoung took this as a chance to attack but he really didn’t want to hit you in any way. His intention was to just jab lightly at your shoulder while you’re distracted.
With quick precision, as he learned from San, he swung your way, sure that he was gonna get a lick in. If you were supposed to be a master combatant, shouldn’t you know not to take your eyes off your opponent? He thought to himself as he focused.
In less than a second, you broke away from Seonghwa’s gaze and stopped Wooyoung’s advance by grabbing the gloved hand that came your way and twisted it to the side, redirecting it. Wooyoung couldn’t process what happened next as you held onto the hand you caught and your legs hooked around his neck, next thing he knew his world spun as he was propelled onto his back.
The loud smack of his back against the ring floor bounced off the walls so satisfyingly as he let out a grunt at the sudden impact. He couldn’t even move. Your legs had him in a headlock, his chin was nuzzled into the back of your slightly bent knee and your ankles were crossed over each other while your upper body and hands trapped his right arm in an arm lock.
You kept him there for a bit, letting him struggle against your hold before releasing him and all the oxygen he needed rushed into his lungs.
Wooyoung was in shock. It had happened so fast. Then it sunk in that your legs had locked his head in, your soft skin, and your pillowy thighs. Had he passed out in your chokehold, it would’ve been a good way to go.
“That’s our girl.” Seonghwa smiled proudly, he and Yeosang applauding your quick response to Wooyoung’s attempt at an attack.
You were up on your feet as if nothing just happened, and you glanced down at Wooyoung, rather enjoying the breathless look on his handsome face. He questioned how he was kind of turned on at how easily you countered him and how gorgeous you looked staring down at him. God, what was wrong with him?
You held your hand out.
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed onto it letting you help him up.
“You need to train with Sannie more.” You chuckled once he was balanced on his two feet. “There were at least three ways you could’ve countered my attack.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Woo,” Seonghwa reassured him, heading towards the weights rack. “It took a while for Yeosang and I to be able to learn one of those counterattacks.”
You gave Wooyoung a reassuring caress on his arm, the gentle touch contrasting with how easily you threw him to the ground before you stepped out of the ring.
Wooyoung needed to improve a lot before he could spar with you.
“What will you be doing today?” Yeosang asked as he hung his towel over the chair, heading back to the ring.
“Will lift some weights. It’s a lower body day.”
“If you need help stretching out later, I’ll be glad to help.”
Wooyoung couldn’t really hear the conversation from where he was but Seonghwa could, and the Vice Captain scoffed at Yeosang’s response. To anyone else, it sounded like a normal gym conversation, and also, whatever the former Prince said always sounded innocent. But you and most of the members knew better.
“Unless she wants to do cardio with me,” Seonghwa suggested, setting up the weights on the barbell.
“Both of you calm down and focus on your workouts.” You shook your head, smiling to yourself at their antics.
“Focus? With you in those shorts?” Yeosang chuckled. “If San was here, he’d offer to spot you. Anyways, when you’re done, you know where to find me.” He headed back to Wooyoung who had begun frowning while he watched the three of you, not liking that he was left out of the conversation.
“Were you guys dissing me?” He asked when Yeosang stood in front of him again.
“Woo, just because you’re not included in the conversation it doesn’t mean that it's about you.”
Wooyoung gasped dramatically. “You mean to say you’re all not obsessed with me?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Keep your guard up, Woo. We need to train you to be good enough to counter some of Y/N’s attacks.”
“Only some?”
“The only two people in this crew who can go head to head with Y/N and actually make her break a sweat is San and Hongjoong.” Yeosang readjusted his gloves before raising his fists to shield his face. “Now that you’ve experienced her skill firsthand, focus.”
...
Wooyoung to put it bluntly was stressed. Frustrated too. He didn’t think he was that bad at hand-to-hand combat. He was humbled greatly by you and he was annoyed because today, it’s like he hasn’t improved at all. He kept getting caught off guard by Yeosang, surprised that he was this good at unarmed combat and even more deadly with his archery skills.
He needed San to give him more pointers and make their sessions more frequent if he was going to improve before they arrived at their next destination.
He let out a deep heavy sigh as he trudged back to the crew's deck to get his towel and fresh set of clothes in his room before he headed to the showers. Maybe he’ll give himself an ice bath. After his and Yeosang’s session, he stayed back to spend time venting out his anger on the punching bag, and now his muscles kind of ached.
Towel draped over one shoulder and his clothes tucked under his arm, he headed towards the showers.
You wrapped your towel tight around your body, swearing to yourself for forgetting your clothes back in your room and as carefully as you could walked barefoot on the shower room tiles.
“Ah!” You squeaked, feeling the ball of your foot slide against the tile and lose balance. Some kind of assassin you were. Even your clumsiness was a mystery to you.
But you didn’t feel the hard cold and wet floor of the showers, you felt nothing but warmth in a gentle hold.
Wooyoung stared at your face. Your eyes were tightly shut as you awaited the impact of your fall if he hadn’t caught you. He held you close and secure to him, his arms wrapped around your body clad only in a soft fluffy towel. He didn’t know if he was lucky or unlucky to be in this situation. You smelled so nice too. The sweet peach and coconut scent of your body wash filled his senses, and your skin was glistening from still being slightly damp from your shower. Maybe he was lucky.
“Hey, you okay?” He asked, his eyes shifting from your face and the top edge of your towel wrapped around your chest.
“Woo?” You had said his name so softly with surprise that it made his heart skip a beat and butterflies flutter in his stomach. Your eyes blinked open to see the man who saved you from hurting yourself.
“Hi.” His voice was so gentle it took you aback.
“H-hi.” You stuttered out.
You both stared into each other's eyes for a while before you cleared your throat, feeling the cold air kiss your skin and make you shiver, making you all too aware of how only a towel separated the two of you.
“It’s cold. I forgot my clothes in my room.” You looked away.
It sunk in with Wooyoung that if the towel peeled off of you, he’d see everything. God, he’d see your pretty body before him and just knew it’d be better than he has ever imagined during his late nights plagued with your visage and the sounds you made when Mingi fucked you, and that first night he saw you on your knees between the gunner's thighs, head bobbing up and down his cock.
“Oh, sorry.” He gently helped you to your feet, making sure you were well-balanced before reluctantly letting you go. He had to control himself. You were Mingi’s. “Be careful, okay? Don’t want you to hurt that pretty self of yours.”
That made you smile. “Thanks, Woo.” You stood on your tippy toes and pressed your lips quickly on his cheek to show him how thankful you were before taking small steps to go to your room.
Wooyoung watched you leave. The touch of your lips on his cheek lingered. Were you that friendly with all of them? He has noticed some very odd…well not odd, unorthodox? Interactions between you and the other crew members. All eight of you seemed so closed knit and when those interactions happened, Mingi didn’t blink an eye or care.
Like how he had walked in on you once in Hongjoong’s office sat on the Captain’s lap by his desk while you two went over some maps and information or how you and Seonghwa would be in the lounge on some afternoons with your legs splayed across his lap while you both read your books in silence.
Does Mingi share you? He shook his head at the thought finding it absurd as the hot water sprayed down on him as he showered.
That was ridiculous. The two of you were attached to the hip almost all the time and some mornings you left his room and the others he left yours. It wasn’t making sense.
He just concluded that all of you have gotten really close and comfy over the time you all had been together as a crew. Being stuck on a ship most of the time and only ever having each other, it made sense that you all got close. Really close in a way it confused him. It still felt like there was something hidden from him even though it was staring him right in the face.
The sound of the shared shower room door sliding open and closing shook him from his thoughts, and from the shower stall he was in, he glanced at who entered, his eyes quickly catching the bright pink head that sauntered in.
“Oh, hey, Woo.” Mingi greeted, taking the shower stall next to him, the stainless steel dividers separating the two.
Wooyoung didn’t care much back then whenever someone entered the shower room but ever since you returned and he found out you have your toiletries in one of the three stalls, he has been careful. First of all, he didn’t want to invade your privacy and lastly, he didn’t want to shower in the stall next to you and get a raging hard-on at the thought of just a partition between the two of you.
Mingi’s bare shoulders and chest peaked over the top of the partition due to his height and his head was only mere inches away from the shower head. If you had been in the stall next to Wooyoung, he was sure only the top of your head could be seen.
“Hey, man.” Wooyoung greeted your lover back, continuing to shampoo his hair.
“Heard Y/N kicked your ass in less than a second.” He teased, turning the knob of the shower with a squeak.
“Ugh, who told you?” Wooyoung sulked a little.
“Seonghwa.” He snickered. “Wish I was there to see it. It’s sexy when she does that.”
“It’s like everything she does turns you on.” Wooyoung bit back, annoyed with the unprovoked teasing he was receiving.
“Can you blame me?”
Wooyoung couldn’t.
Glancing over at Mingi, he was met with a victorious smirk on the man’s face. He was smug that Wooyoung had no snappy remark at what he had said.
He glared at him before he rolled his eyes and began rinsing his hair a little roughly.
“Ugh, could you guys, at least keep it down? You guys fuck like bunnies, I swear to god. Don’t you know some people, also known as me, need to sleep?”
Mingi raised his brow as he grinned.
“So you could hear us, huh?”
Fuck.
The gunner faced his back to the spray of water and continued to tease his friend. “Do you get hard at the sound of us fucking, Woo? I mean if you do, I can't blame you. She moans so pretty doesn’t she?”
Internally, Wooyoung answered yes to all those questions but he just continued to rinse himself and think of a way to shut the tall man up.
“She tastes really good too.” He was bragging now and happily doing so. You were his baby. His one and only, of course, he wanted to show you off. Plus, knowing that Wooyoung doesn’t know the whole truth about you and the crew, he wanted to kind of enjoy the idea that you were entirely his (not that he didn’t like sharing you with the rest). “You’ve seen how pretty her pussy is, right? It was kinda entertaining, really, how you were so entranced by my baby before you knew that she was mine.”
Wooyoung was too frustrated and now extremely annoyed to reply back. He didn’t even know what to reply. His silence and lack of response probably exposed the truth of his desire for you.
“Tell me, Woo,” Mingi leaned his arms on the top of the partition and Wooyoung made the mistake of meeting the man’s eyes that were possessive yet teasing. “Do you want to fuck my girl?”
Wooyoung clenched his jaw.
The only thing that could be heard in the shower room right now was the collision of the rain of water against the bathroom tiles as they stared each other down.
Yes. He wanted to. He really fucking wanted to.
What the fuck does Mingi even want him to say?
“Don’t you think it’s a bit disrespectful to be offering your girlfriend up like that? Like she’s yours to give and take?” Wooyoung didn’t mean to attack Mingi with such words and it was clear what he said took him aback.
Was he going to get punched right now?
“What if it was an invitation?”
Wooyoung’s head snapped in Mingi’s direction, giving the man the reaction he wanted.
“W-what?”
Mingi let the silence between them sit for a while, knowing that the cogs in Wooyoung’s head were malfunctioning right now before laughing heartily.
“I’m just kidding. Wow. Didn’t think you’d take me so seriously. I know you have a crush on her, that’s okay, man. Everyone else does.”
Wooyoung remained silent, opting to just nod and continue washing up while Mingi’s last three words echoed over and over in his head.
Everyone else does.
It’s like what Yeosang said, “And if you’re a little attracted to her it’s fine. We all are.”
They showered in silence after, Wooyoung finished first, dried himself, and changed into a fresh set of clothes before heading out into the hall, the stupid hall where he could hear you across his room and run into you in the mornings or late nights when you’d get a midnight snack.
Sometimes he would think of that time you fed him that strawberry and how honey-like your voice was when you praised him. Then his imagination would go wild as he thought about what if he had kissed you then and there, and what if he touched you and felt every curve of your beautiful body as your tongues fought for dominance with one another.
He craved the same intimacy you shared with the other members. The same one where a single glance could tell them how you felt, where knowing smiles were exchanged across rooms or the dining table like you were passing secret notes to one another under the table, and the same intimacy you had with Mingi.
Wooyoung sighed as his crush on you only worsened by the day and he hoped that playing the video game Jongho and San asked him to join this afternoon could help him remain distracted from thoughts of you, specifically of how fragile you were in his arms earlier in the showers.
Approaching the lounge, he heard soft giggles and low voices, what could be assumed to be maybe a light-hearted conversation between two people. He recognized your voice anywhere and without announcing his presence, wanting to act aloof, he walked into the lounge.
The back of the couch faced him and he couldn’t see you and the person you were talking to as he approached.
“What are you doing?” you giggled, feeling gentle hands caress your sides, the other sliding under your top to feel the skin of your stomach with the intention to travel lower.
Wooyoung paused.
Your voice was gentle and void of any seriousness that your line of work in the past had trained you to become. Yeosang had told him yesterday when they were both hanging out on the upper deck that you could only ever feel safe around them. With them, your defenses were down and you could just be…well….you.
It was heartwarming and bittersweet. It's no wonder Mingi was so protective of you and San too...wait-
Was Mingi already with you? Wasn’t he still in the showers?
Wooyoung’s questions were answered by a broad back finally peeking over the back frame of the couch as the two of you playfully wrestled. He blinked for a bit wondering if his eyes were betraying him because he was pretty sure Mingi’s short hair was pink.
“You look so cute” The man sighed with adoration, the only part of you that could be seen as you lay on the couch was your gentle hand on the back of his neck.
“Sannie…”
Wooyoung could imagine the way you smiled when San’s name fell from your lips but the former assassin above you sensed another presence in the room. Cat-like eyes looked his way and for some reason, Wooyoung felt like he walked into something he shouldn’t have.
“Sannie?” You sat up wondering why he had gone silent.
You followed his gaze and saw Wooyoung by the entryway of the lounge.
The man stared at you both for a while, noticing how San’s hair stuck out in different directions and how his lips were slightly pinker than usual. Your lips were red and swollen like the times he’d see you after you and Mingi…
“I hope I’m not interrupting.” He tried to play his surprise off as if it was a joke but inside he was screaming 'What the fuck? What the fuck?', like a broken record.
“Oh, no.” San immediately responded, sitting on the couch properly from the position he had been in, which underneath the blanket was between your legs with his pelvis pressed to your core. “Not at all.”
“Will Y/N join us?” Wooyoung walked on over to the L-shaped couch, taking note that the two of you were under the same fluffy blanket.
“I won’t be playing. Just watching for a bit.” You smiled, letting your hand that had been playing with San’s hair drop while the other slipped from under his sweats. "I have to help Hongjoong and Seonghwa with some data later.”
San kept his practiced smile to not alert Wooyoung of what you two were doing under the blanket til he showed up. He was a bit annoyed to have been interrupted. Your dainty fingers had been wrapped around his hardening cock and were stroking him while his own fingers had been massaging your sensitive clit through your cotton panties. He even felt how your growing arousal had begun to seep through the fabric.
For now, San just readjusted your positions while still remaining under the cover of the large blanket, hiding his hard cock and practicing self-control.
Wooyoung half expected San to detach himself from you when Jongho arrived who didn’t blink an eye at yours and San’s public displays of affection, which looked more than platonic. Instead, San had you snuggled in his arms with his chin resting atop of your head as he fiddled with the buttons on the controller, trying to beat him and Jongho at a retro street racing game.
This was one of those instances that Wooyoung wondered if there was something more going on between you and San that Mingi wasn’t aware of. But then again, Mingi never batted an eye when Jongho called you princess, when Seonghwa moved the hair from your face with loving eyes, or when Yunho embraced you from behind when you were going over things with Hongjoong and Hwa on the command deck.
But apart from all these inconsistencies, well, odd behavior, Wooyoung couldn’t remove from his head how he had come in contact with you twice today. First at the gym and then at the showers with your skin glistening, the scent of peach coconut body wash, and the kiss you left on his cheek as a thanks for saving you from your fall.
God, he sounded like a teenager. He never really had a serious relationship back on Jupiter, he just messed around…a lot. Bless the maids that lost their jobs in the manor because he got caught fucking them…and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
But he’s never wanted anyone as badly as he wanted you.
That night, like almost every other night, when he wasn’t missing home or the security of his life before, he was consumed by thoughts of you. Now that he had a new image of you stuck in his head (you in that fluffy towel and nothing else), he had new… jacking-off material.
Maybe to top it off tonight, he’d leave his door just a peep so he could hear you and Mingi again. You two didn’t fuck at all this week, so he’s pretty sure something might happen tonight especially since Mingi cornered him in the shower and fucking showed off.
Should he take a little peek?
With the way the gunner teased him, it’s like he wanted him to watch the two of you.
As if he was psychic, Wooyoung heard soft whimpering coming from your room. Your sweet alluring sounds.
Quietly, bare feet on the cold floor he made his way to his door. The hallway was dark now since the main lights automatically switched off at 1:30 am to conserve energy on the ship, the only thing that illuminated the hall were these color-changing dim strips of light near along the topmost part of the walls.
Tip-toeing across, he wanted to scoff at how your door was open ajar. ‘Fuck you, man.’ He swore at Mingi in his head. He really wanted to make him suffer. If Mingi wanted him to watch so badly, then don’t mind if he does. Knowing the cocky smug bastard, he probably gets off on the idea of someone watching him fuck you but can’t touch you.
Gluing himself as close as possible to the wall next to your door, he decided to take a peek.
Immediately his cock throbbed at the new never before seen sight.
Ivory silk that shimmered in the dim light of your bedroom was tied to your headboard and they decorated your wrists that were above your head. He had wondered why your sounds were quieter this time around and he knew why now. Smooth silk was between your lips.
He felt his mouth water.
The little night slip covering yet showing the curves of your body was of the same silk and the thin straps had already slipped from your shoulders, the neckline dangerously low and close to letting your tits spill out. He could see the hardened peaks beneath the fabric and how the soft flesh jiggled when you’d wriggle away from the head buried between your thighs.
Your thighs were over thick broad shoulders and seeing the way you were writhing from the pleasure of the lucky tongue lapping up your essence that he imagined to be nectar from the gods, he knew you were close to coming undone. Which usually meant, Mingi was going to fuck you next. Wooyoung’s gotta give it to the gunner for being such a generous lover and indulging in foreplay.
“Mhmf!” Your pitch got higher, your wrists now tugging at the restraints. Your soft pillowy thighs were trembling and trying to close from the unrelenting attack on your heat. Wooyoung could hear the sloppy wet slurping of the man eating you out and his cock was getting harder and harder at the new visual. So you liked getting tied up? That’s hot.
He palmed himself through his cotton pajama pants, biting his lip hard to hold back any sounds he could make and glancing at the hall making sure no one was up before returning his gaze to your lingerie-clad body.
Your hips tried to wriggle away from your lover’s tongue but his hands were hooked around your thighs to keep you from getting away. You watched as his pretty face indulged in your cunt, happily and greedily lapping and dipping his tongue in your heat, and nipping and sucking on your clit. The soft gag around your mouth prevented you from moaning out his name and you could only whine and whimper your pleas and sounds of pleasure.
The soft silk grazed over your sensitive nipples the more you rustled and tugged on the restraints, your core growing unbearably tight and your breath quickening as he slurped and sucked at your sensitive bud. Then you saw white. Your back arched off the bed as his assault on your orgasming pussy didn’t stop. He liked to push you over the edge, not as cruel as Hongjoong does but just enough to make you hazy.
Not wanting to overdo it, your lover detached his lips from your cunt, and consumed with such desire, he hovered over you, covering you with his beefy muscular upper body, and lowered the silk gag to crash his lips onto yours. You moaned into his mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue, and felt your walls tightening around nothing as he did. With one hand, he untied the silk ribbon from the headboard, letting it remain tied around your wrists yet freeing you from the restraint, finally letting you touch him.
“You’re so beautiful like this, my darling.” He spoke softly in between kisses. “I love dressing you in the prettiest things and fucking you in them.”
'Oh, god, his voice', you thought. That honey-like deep voice that made you believe sweet nothings belonged on his lips.
“This fabric is from the finest of silks in Jupiter.” He cupped your breast through the smooth thin lingerie. “When we made our stop in my home, I had to get something for my darling.” You bit your lip when he ghosted his thumb over your perked nipple. “This is silk made for a queen.”
He then sucked at your lower lip before resting his forehead against yours to savor this moment between the two of you.
“You didn’t have to...” You blushed beneath his intense gaze, his eyes so beautiful and entrancing. “I don’t need things like these—ah!”
You were cut off when his hot and hard length slotted between your lips, the man before you clicking his tongue at your words. “My beautiful love deserves beautiful things.” You let out a soft whine when you felt him rub his bulbous hot tip between your folds, covering himself in your slick. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you. Nor desired anyone as I desire you."
“P-please,” you whimpered, squeezing his shoulders as the ache for friction was getting more intense. “I love you...please…I need you.”
You’d never ever get tired of any of your lovers telling you how much they loved you. You didn’t even know what you did to deserve not only one but seven men who loved you. After all the things you’ve done in your line work…you were somehow blessed with seven people you’d protect and die for. With them, you weren’t the girl you were in the academy. They made you feel as if your past was nothing but a nightmare.
“My sweet girl.” He cooed, his forehead pressed against yours as he tapped the head of cock on your clit. Your arms wrapped around his back, feeling the need to hold onto him because if you didn’t you felt like you wouldn’t be able to take the painful need throbbing inside you. “So tough and strong.” He kissed your neck, holding your hips still so he could rock his length back and forth your slit, the teasing close to making you cry. “But deep down, you want to be taken care of.”
“Please…” you begged, voice cracking with desire.
The sound made Wooyoung squeeze his cock tighter, slowly pumping himself to the sight of you through the mirror in your room where he could see the side view of your body. One of your breasts was no longer covered by the pretty silk lingerie and the ribbons tied on your wrist flowed so prettily, something about it made the whole view before him so sinful and dare he say, beautiful?
He watched as the hips between your legs connected with yours.
You moaned so obscenely when his hot tip pushed through your entrance and how his thick hot girth, stretched you out.
“Oh, Yeo.”
Wooyoung stopped the steady and slow rhythm of his hand. Did he hear that right? There was no fucking way.
“Fuck, you’re so thick.” You threw your head back, feeling him bottom out inside of you, his pretty moans music to your ears as he felt your velvety walls embrace him.
“Yeah? Look at how gorgeously split you are by my cock.”
You listened to him and glanced down, seeing the defined v-line of his hips and chiseled abdomen first before letting your gaze fall to where you two were connected. Your lower lips were parted and wrapped around him. He wasn’t as long as Mingi and Yunho but, god, he was thick and fitted inside of you like a glove.
“Come here, darling.” He wrapped his arms around you, changing your positions so he was lying down while you were sat atop of him, fully sunk onto his cock.
Wooyoung had been too distracted by you that he didn’t notice that the naked man that you were straddling and who was eating you out moments before was not the pink-haired gunner asshole who teased him earlier…it was his best friend.
“Be a good girl and ride me.” Yeosang caressed your sides before hooking a finger on the neckline of the silk slip and tugging it lower to reveal your breasts.
You slipped your arms from the straps, the lingerie he bought you now bunched at your hips while you placed your hands behind you and on his thighs as you slowly rolled your hips.
“Oh darling,” Yeosang moaned, watching you slowly raise your hips and lower them giving him a show of how his cock disappeared in and out of your tight heat, wetting him with your slick.
You bit your lip slowly adjusting to the width of him and once you felt your walls accommodate him more, you began to bounce your hips. You were lost in the way his cock rubbed your insides with each rock and bounce. His hands caressed your sides and squeezed your breasts, your moans and his messily harmonizing together along with the sound of skin slapping against skin.
Wooyoung’s cock still throbbed and he knew it was wrong that he was even more turned on at the fact that you were fucking Yeosang. Did Mingi mean what he said when he jested earlier? About fucking you? Did he actually share you?
Maybe if he wasn’t so fucking horny he would’ve stopped touching himself at the sight of you fucking someone who wasn’t Mingi. Were you seeing Yeosang behind Mingi’s back?
He didn’t really care about those things right now, not when your tits bounced so fucking prettily as you rode Yeosang. Why did you look so fucking good? With his best friend lying down, he had a full view of your body, and the fact that the lingerie was still somewhat on you, made him continue to pump his length, matching his rhythm to yours.
Yeosang wasn’t much of a dirty talker when you two spent nights together but his pretty voice and the special timbre he had even his panting and moaning made up for it. He had such a tone to him that made you shiver and ache for him all the same. He had the prettiest moans among your lovers.
“Fu—oh. Fuck,” Yeosang managed to say when he caught a glimpse of a sheer ring of white coating the base of his cock, Wooyoung had to squint but when he saw it his hand sped up. He couldn’t believe he was jacking off to you fucking yourself on his best friend’s cock.
“Yeo…” you whimpered, throwing your head back at how good he felt inside of you and Wooyoung almost moaned out loud with how delectable you looked head thrown back in pleasure and rolling your hips.
He needed to fuck you. God, he didn’t know how long he could take anymore. Would Yeosang stop him if he were to walk in right now? No, he couldn’t do that but the sinful smack of your skin against Yeosang’s as you bounced on his cock was making any form of self control almost impossible to find.
“Look at you,” Yeosang hummed, swiping his thumb on the white cream of your arousal before rolling your clit beneath his fingertip. “Taking me so prettily.”
You could only moan in response, the stimulation on your clit as his cock deliciously scraped your insides making your head spin. Your hips and thighs worked tirelessly to continue the rolling waves of mind-numbing pleasure, and your lover beneath you looked up at you with such desire and adoration in his eyes, that it made you a little shy. Only they could make you feel this way.
You gasped when Yeosang gripped your hips tighter and began to fuck into you at a fast pace, the wet obscene smacking becoming louder as he thrust strong and deep. You almost fell forward at the sudden change of pace and you cried out at how indescribably good it felt.
“Fuck, Yeo. You feel so good.” He sat up, cradling your back and wrapping your legs around his waist as he continued to fuck you. The new position allowed his cock to dive deeper, hitting your g-spot and making you melt against him.
You held onto him for dear life, your head resting on his shoulder.
Wooyoung whimpered softly in disappointment that the sight of your tits and pussy were covered now by Yeosang’s bulging muscular back which had the silk ribbons around your wrists flowing down against them as you clawed at his skin.
Good thing he was close. He was so fucking close.
He glanced at the mirror once more, biting his lip harder when he saw the way Yeosang’s hips were driving into your pussy. Why couldn’t that be him?
He squeezed his cock harder and increased his pace, he was going to cum. Your breasts were bouncing with each thrust and he could see how your nipples brushed Yeosang’s chest. He imagined what that would feel like and how tight your pussy would feel around his cock, how it would squeeze him, how it would feel, hot wet, and inviting—
Wooyoung’s eyes flickered to your face wanting to cum at the sight of your blissed-out expression but his heart stopped when his eyes met your heavy-lidded ones with pupils blown in lust.
Your lips were loosely pressed against Yeosang’s shoulder as he pounded into you when you suddenly met a pair of eyes by the door, peering in. If it had been any of your lovers, they would have shamelessly walked in and watched. So...who?
Vision focusing and adjusting to the dark, you made out the strong jawline and the unmistakable shape of those eyes to be none other than Jung Wooyoung. Yeosang’s best friend.
Wooyoung saw how your brows furrowed at his presence and how your eyes glanced down, finding his hand that was wrapped around his cock, tip red and angry, leaking with precum.
“Fuck.” Yeosang swore when felt your walls squeeze him, not knowing it was because you had noticed Wooyoung by the door.
You never knew you’d be turned on by the idea of being watched til it was teased out of you by your lovers. It had started when San had caught you and Mingi when your relationship with him had reached the three-month milestone. Mingi being a switch had enjoyed teasing both you and San that night…seeing Wooyoung by the door, reminded you a little bit of how cute Sannie was all hard and frozen by the door that very night.
Smirking a little, a wicked idea popped into your head.
Running your hands through Yeosang’s hair, you kissed and moaned against his neck just a tad bit louder, all that while keeping your gaze locked with Wooyoung’s.
“You close, my love?” You purred into Yeosang’s ear, soft yet audible enough for the man by the door to hear.
Wooyoung clenched his teeth harder, fighting back his moans as his eyes were pleading for release while imagining his cock was in you instead of his hand. You weren’t making this easier for him.
Yeosang groaned at the way your term of endearment for him rolled off your tongue so seductively. “Mhm.” He hummed in response, panting as he chased both yours and his releases.
“You’re making me feel so good.” You held him tighter, his hands guiding your hips to match his movements. Your lustful drunk-like stare remained on Wooyoung and he couldn’t tear his own eyes from you. “I want you to fill me up.”
A moan almost escaped Wooyoung at that. Why were you looking at him when you said that? It was painful enough to fist his cock in secret while watching someone else fuck you but now this? This was some new kind of torture.
“Y-Yeo,” your eyes shut in bliss while your mouth parted in a breathless and soundless moan, while your lover spurred on by your words, moved with passion to bring you both to ecstasy.
Yeosang’s pants and whines always were like a melody you can never get out of your head. You wondered, despite your state of a daze, if he knew how weak you were for his comfort and his warmth. His gentleness and affection were different. They all loved you in their own ways, different but it was love all the same.
His moans became higher in pitch as he lost himself and his hold on your hips tightened. You couldn’t hold back all the sounds that left you as he brought you to climax, the rhythm of his hips getting faster, the resounding smacks bouncing off the walls. Your eyes locked with Wooyoung’s once more before they shut as you were pushed over the edge. Your body arched into Yeosang's as you gasped, unable to stop the trembling of your hips as your head went blank with pleasure.
You felt your release drip down your pulsing heat and made a mess on his cock that hasn’t ceased its assault on your spamming cunt. “That’s my darling. My sweet darling.” He cooed over and over til his own hips stilled. He slammed into you hard one last time as a strangled moan left him.
Wooyoung bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as he felt the pressure at the base of his spine explode and release into his hand. The sight of his milky white release made your mouth water and you couldn’t help the thought that popped in your head. How it was such a waste for his cum to not be on you or in you. Maybe it was just your orgasm brain playing tricks on you and not making you think straight but you held onto your lover tighter, feeling his release warm your insides.
Yeosang laid you down gently on the bed, not detaching himself from you as he peppered kisses all over your chest as if worshipping you and thanking you.
You moved your head a little from the pillow to look at the door, only to find that the little peeping Tom had disappeared. Before you could feel the growing hint of disappointment that the new crew member was gone, you were pulled away from your thoughts by Yeosang. You gasped softly when he took your left breast in his warm mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue on your sensitive peak as he kept his pelvis pressed to yours to keep his release inside of you.
Wooyoung retreated to his room and locked the door, the post-nut clarity creeping up to him fast.
What had he just seen?
As if doing what he did to you and Mingi wasn’t bad already, this was…he didn’t even know what to think.
The guilt ate him up but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a dark cloud blooming in his chest. He didn’t know if he was reading too much into it but did you enjoy having him watch? He swore when your eyes locked with his as Yeosang fucked you and he was jerking off, there was a brief glimpse of a smirk.
As he cleaned up the mess of his cum on his hand and changed out of his shirt, he poked his head out his door so he could check he didn’t have traces of him on the floor or anywhere near your door.
What the fuck has he done? Why were you and Yeosang together?
He glanced at your still slightly open door wondering if you and his best friend were still going at it. If he had gotten caught by both of you, would he have been invited to join? He lightly knocked the back of his head with his fist for having thought about that. He was being delusional.
With tissues, he wiped away drops of his cum that had fallen to the floor quietly while telling himself he won’t try to listen to any more sounds that should be found because of your partially open door.
Before he could hear anything, he disappeared into his room and made sure his door was closed and locked.
He went over his conclusions about your relationship with the crew.
You and Mingi had been together for two years while you and San had basically grown up together and shared a friendship that looked far from platonic as he always looked like a love-sick puppy when you were around. Now Yeosang? Where the fuck did Yeosang fit in the equation?
It didn’t make sense to him and the last thought that crossed his mind was far too absurd…but then again, not entirely impossible.
It was just too crazy to be real. Which brought him back to his and Mingi’s conversation in the showers.
“What if it was an invitation?” Mingi’s words echoed in his head.
Even though he played it off as a joke, Wooyoung couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t entirely just a joke.
- feel free to scream in my askbox about the fic I will gladly famgor; with you <3
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#tokki;sway with me#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez au#ateez fic#ateez smut#hongjoong x reader#jongho x reader#mingi x reader#yeosang smut#yeosang x reader#yunho x reader#san x reader#wooyoung smut#wooyoung x reader#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez ot8 x reader
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cuddling w Genshin characters
warnings: none
characters: ga Ming, Xiao, lyney, alhaitham, furina,
Synopsis (is this the right word?): cuddling headcanons w these characyers
Uhhh btw idk how blogs work on tumblr yet but requests are open
GA MING:
His cuddles would be very warm and soothing, HED cuddle you as if you were a giant stuffed toy,
A lot of the time he either sleeps really late or doesn’t sleep at all so he ends up doing smth else but when he does you’re always in his arms
example by what I said in the one above: playing with cards. He would be playing with cards while you’re cuddling w him on his chest, do u get what I mean?
there are nights he’s extra tired from work + dancing so on those nights he just slips in the bed with you and immediately falls asleep.
if you can’t sleep, he will hum you one of his dance routine songs
XIAO:
I like to think he isnt super used to physical touch, but you can tell he’s trying
the first few nights…or maybe months, you two would just hold hands while you sleep, not yet full on cuddling
but after a few months when you guys are both comfy, HED let you lay your head on his chest or hee hug you by the waist.
youd have to remind him sometimes that it’s okay to do these stuff
I think he would be the type to always put stray strands of hair behind your ear or if you seem restless and can’t sleep, HED try to calm you down by patting your head
Lyney (I actually love lyney so much I have not had a single post without lyney in it)
He loves cuddling, he loves hugging you sm
hed be the type to show u some magic tricks while you guys cuddle
hed press kisses on your forehead then continue as if nothing happened
sometikes he comes home really tired and he’s really appreciate it whenever you’d help him like unwind and like hug him to sleep
you have Teo options: either a really talkative lyney or one that is very quiet, either way he loves being in your arms
If He notices you shivering, he would use his vision to warm you up a bit.
alhaitham:
You would cuddle on the bed or on a chair while he’s reading a book
when he’s done reading said book, either hell stand up and get another or finish and just stay with you in bed.
he’d be the type to admire you a lot while you’re sleeping like hes just stare at your face
during the nights u can’t sleep, hee read u his book. Unfortunately it’s very boring, but eh its the thought that counts
furina (the first time I’ve ever written a female Genshin character wow)
She’s always tell you about her adventures of the day, or the court cases
when she notices you fell asleep, she’d kiss your cheek and then go to bed herself
id like to think that on restless nights of yours, she’d try to either A) entertain you by performing or smth so you’re not bored or B) sing you a lullaby
on nights she’s feeling down, you’d have to reassure her and she’s be really relaxed and fall asleep in your arms
okay number one, this ain’t proofread at all and number two, my bad if I accidentally mischaracterized them
#lyney#genshin#genshin impact#genshin x reader#lyney x reader#headcanons#lyney fluff#lyney x you#Xiao#xiao x you#xiao fluff#xiao x reader#alhaitham x reader#gaming x reader#fluff#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#furina#furina x reader#furina x you#gaming x you#gaming x y/n#fontaine#sumeru#liyue
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if he is evil then no he isn't because yes he is 💅
i've had this evil little eunuch for an hour and i would die for him
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right, dont know if this makes sense but lets say reader (any gender really idm) was a god who had seen the ups and downs of hualian and had always been there for them but despite the mutual feelings between the 3, none of them confessed.
the thing is that, jun wu (ew…) had become obsessed with reader (since they stuck so much by xie lians and hua chengs side, they got noticed by jun wu) and left his obsession for xie lian behind and one day after planning so for many years, jun wu captures reader and theres no word of reader for days, weeks even yet jun wu acts as normal.
would hualian tear up the whole place, get revenge, rescue reader then make sweet love to them? up to you! you dont have to write ab this request btw:)
Rescue Mission
HuaLian x gn!reader
Ignore grammar mistakes
Slight OOC
Slight misinformation
You, Hua Cheng and Xie Lian have spent centuries together
But despite this you've never told them your feelings
And unknown to you, they've never told you their feelings either.
So you're all single but like, everyone else knows you guys are sort of together.
Other people know not to fuck with you when Hua Cheng has obviously staked his claim on you and Xie Lian
Except for Jun Wu, he doesn't care one bit.
Hua Cheng can't have the both of you so Jun Wu decides to obsess over you instead🤷
While Hua Cheng and Xie Lian are deep-rooted in their past, you're a little newer.
You definitely haven't spent 8 centuries with them
Plus how can he not notice you when you're stuck by the strongest martial god, and the strongest ghost king.
It's hard not to put a light on you
Jun Wu's obsession starts there. A small prick of intrigue
None of you would have guessed that he would've gone so far
After years of planning, and years of getting closer and closer to you his intrigue and obsession grows
So he finally takes you
Hua Cheng is on alert within the first 2 hours you're missing.
Maybe he's overreacting, maybe he's not.
You've always stayed by Xie Lian's or his side
And if you leave by yourself you would've told them.
When A whole day passed Xie Lian tries to assure Hua Cheng that you can take care of yourself and you're probably just on a mission
He's trying to make himself feel better too.
When three days pass Hua Cheng and Xie Lian think you've gone missing.
You would never do this to them, you would never make them worry
Hua Cheng has the ghost city on high alert and the ghost realm is already looking for you.
Xie Lian does what he can't in the mortal realm, giving people your description and hanging up drawings of you.
He also does what he can in the heavenly realm, after all a god going missing is very important
Especially when it's a god of the upper court like you
The upper court is in a slight panic. No one knows where you are and a lot of people in the upper court are your friends. So of course everyone's a bit in disarray when none of them have heard from you in three days
Not Feng Xin, Mu Qing, Pei Ming, Ling Wen, nor Shi Qingxuan.
You have so many friends, so many people that love you and yet you're not with a single one of them have you
So where are you?
A majority of the upper court brings it to attention to Jun Wu only for him... To act like nothing's wrong
He says gods are frivolous and curious, you may have just gone out alone.
There's no cause for worry he says
But everyone is still wary, especially Xie Lian
When he tells Hua Cheng what happened it doesn't go well.
With you gone missing and Jun Wu playing it off it doesn't take long for Hua Cheng to be blaming the emperor of your disappearance. Whether it's out of spite or genuine thought he doesn't know.
When a week passes Hua Cheng gives up on searching through the ghost realm
Not as in he gave up on you but as in he's breaking into the heavens to search for you instead.
You think Hua Cheng can't find you?
You'd be silly.
Xie Lian doesn't encourage it but he doesn't stop Hua Cheng either.
And maybe he slips some details about the emperor's palace. On accident of course.
Hua Cheng doesn't care to tear through the heavens as he did before for Xie Lian.
He tears through lower court gods and upper court gods who refuse to give details about your whereabouts, and who won't help him.
It doesn't take long at all for Hua Cheng to get into the main palace.
Especially when most of the upper court gods have gone missing...
Coincidentally enough all your friends aren't in the heavens to protect it
Feng Xin and Mu Qing on a mission, Shi Qingxuan out with the earth master. And the security of the heavens, Pei Ming? Apparently he's gone too.
So Hua Cheng can basically walk through the heavens to get to Jun Wu.
Hua Cheng doesn't feel bad for ripping the palace apart to find you.
And he does find you
Locked away in one of the far rooms, puzzles beyond puzzles. He just broke through them though.
When he finds you he's relieved you have no wounds, and that you're relatively okay despite being taken away for a week
Shaken up from being taken away from the people you care for most.
Hua Cheng would kill the emperor right there if Xie Lian didn't make a clear emphasis on just getting you home.
That doesn't stop Hua Cheng from setting fire to the heavens though
Once you're brought home, it's a lot of hugging, tears, and a lot of questions about what happened.
You cry and tell them that you were scared simply for the fact you would never get the chance to tell them you loved them.
They most literally freeze in their spots and are like "??? For real?"
Once all the I love you's pass Xie Lian and Hua Cheng cling to you
Taking you into bed and worshipping you on the sheets.
You've had a busy week, you deserve to be taken care of and that's exactly what they do.
After that they'll never let you be alone again
One of them is always at your side.
Especially Hua Cheng
The silver butterflies become a common sight in the heavens anytime you or Xie Lian are around
#tgcf#tgcf headcanon#hualian#hualian x reader#hua cheng x reader#tgcf x male reader#tgcf hua cheng#tgcf hualian#tgcf xie lian#xie lian x reader
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the switch up
when two switches are together, no one in particular is in charge.
you wanted to take control and take care of mingi for the night, but things got switched up.
-switch!mingi x fem switch!reader -2.6k words -smut, 18+ only, mdni -c/w: oral sex (m receiving), fingering, big dick!mingi, pet names (princess, my love, good boy/girl, baby), slight edging, restraints, whiny!mingi, unprotected sex, definitely forgetting some other things sorry guys
not proofread
also was working on an alternative version to this that i haven’t finished but may finish it eventually
being in a relationship with mingi is all about give and take. he takes care of you, and you take care of him. some days, it may be more of him taking care of you, while other days, it is more of you taking care of him. first it started in just everyday life, doing the basic household chores, or being the one who comforts on a bad day. neither one of you played a particular role. that was until things moved to the bedroom. when two switches are together, no one in particular is in charge.
that doesn’t mean that neither one dominates or submits; those roles are shared by the two of you. one day mingi could be the one in charge, taking control, and the next it could be you. sometimes just one night could have both of you switching.
and tonight just so happens to be one of those nights.
mingi was laying in bed, scrolling through his phone when you crawled into bed next to him. you slipped your fingers under his shirt and started to rub his stomach, feeling his soft skin. you slowly moved down towards the waistband of his shorts, stopping before you went any further. a low whine escaped mingi’s lips as he finally put his phone down. you looked up at him, giving him a small smirk.
“i want you, ming,” you whisper, before finally reaching into his pants, hand cupping his dick. you palmed him slightly, feeling his cock come to life. it was getting harder and harder the more you played with him. he bucked into your hand, already desperate.
“p-please,” mingi let out a shaky breath. “take me, y/n.”
you finally pulled his shorts and underwear down, freeing his cock. continuing to stroke him softly, you sat up so you could watch his reactions. he always looked so cute when he was coming undone from your touches. you leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. mingi whined against your lips when you released his cock from your hold.
“mmm, be a good boy for me,” you say to him before kissing down his jawline. you slowly start to pull his shirt off him, leaving him completely naked before you. moving from his jaw to his shoulder, you trail kisses down his body. first stopping at his chest, where you place wet open mouth kisses in the skin between his pecs. your fingers tweak his left nipple while you gently lick his right. you could feel his low moans vibrate through his chest.
your tongue trails down from his chest to his abdomen, reaching his bellybutton, where the fine hairs start and lead to his pubic region. mingi’s large hand grabs at your head in desperation, wanting you to move even further south. you wrap your fingers around his wrist and move his hand away from you. sitting up on your heels, you shake your head disapprovingly. “patience, my princess,” you tease.
“please, need you s’bad,” he whimpers out.
letting go of his wrist, you rest your hands on his muscular thighs. the strong, muscular thighs that often hold you up while you ride on top of him. a kiss is placed on each thigh before moving to his waiting cock. starting at the base, you lick a stripe up along the prominent vein, stopping before reaching the tip. precum was already leaking from it, to which you place a quick kiss. you look up at mingi from your position—his eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open, breathing deeply. you took his length into your mouth, going until the tip hit the back of your throat. the base of his cock needed to be taken care of by your hands since your mouth can’t take him all.
you could feel mingi’s thighs tensing under you—a tell tale sign that he’s about to buck his hips and try to fuck your throat. your nails dug into the skin of his thighs as a warning. don’t fucking move. you hollowed your cheeks, creating the suction his dick so desperately ached for. spit was leaking from your mouth as his thick cock stretched your lips. you used the saliva as lubricant to help your hands jerk him more smoothly.
the moans that mingi was producing were so whiny and desperate—it only motivated you more. mingi was never quiet in the bedroom. he was always making sounds, getting louder and louder the closer he reached the edge. the loud, pornographic moans, the low, deep grunts and groans, the high pitched whines; he did not care how loud he was or who heard him. you hummed satisfyingly, the vibrations going straight to his cock. knowing he wasn’t allowed to touch you, mingi’s thick fingers gripped the sheets as he released a strangled whimper.
he was becoming more and more whiny; he was getting close. a few more bobs of your head, taking his cock as far as you could down your throat, you finally pulled away from him. you continued to stroke his thick cock, making sure you tease his balls, giving them a light squeeze. he bucked against you, wanting more of your touch. you let go of him and he whimpered at the lack of touch. “mm, not yet, my princess,” you tease. “you can’t cum yet.”
“need to be in you, please,” he whined. you straddle his waist and look down at the man who was slowly becoming undone. you kiss him harshly before grinding your clothed core against him. “please, baby, need you now.” his hands grabbed your waist and started to pull at your bottoms, wanting you to be just as bare as he was. He needed to feel your skin on his.
you smack his hand away and climb off him. “hands to yourself, my love,” you order. you needed to find something to restrain mingi’s hands because you just knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold back. you walked over to the dresser where mingi keeps his ties and other accessories and you grabbed the first tie you saw, twisting it around in your hands. “now i need you to be a good boy and listen to me, okay,” you cooed at him.
“m’always a good boy,” mingi pouted. you climbed back onto him, straddling his waist again. grabbing his much larger hands into your smaller ones, you lift them up above his head. mingi was watching your every move. desperation filled his eyes. you took the tie and gently started to restrain his hands to the headboard. the silky material was soft and cool against his hot skin.
“it’s not too tight, is it?” you asked him. mingi tugged at the restraint a bit to test it. he shook his head, causing you to smirk. you cupped his cheek and kissed him softly. “perfect.”
you ground your hips down against him one more time before getting up off him again. by now his cock was so hard, it was becoming too much for mingi. you knew he wasn’t going to be about to last much longer if you continued to tease him. normally you would put on a little show for mingi when you would strip yourself of your clothes, but wanting to have mercy on him, you removed your clothes quickly, leaving you completely naked. his eyes wandered over your body, taking in every inch. he loved everything about you and your body. you were perfect to him. and it was killing him that he couldn’t touch you right now. to be able to run his big, rough hands down your sides. to hold on to your waist. to run his fingers down the curve of your lower back to your ass. to kiss your neck, shoulders, collar bone. to cup your tits in his hands, to tease your nipples with his thick fingers. he gets so drunk off your body. it was his kryptonite.
and being restrained was killing him.
“baby, please,” mingi’s voice was low and shaky. his body shuddered in anticipation as you climbed back onto him. you stroked his cock a couple more times before finally lining it up with your entrance. you weren’t properly prepped, and you knew the stretch was going to be too much, but you needed him just as badly as he needed you. mingi hissed as you rubbed the angry tip through your wet folds.
finally, you slowly started to sink down on him. the stretching of your cunt was intense, he filled you up more than you could handle. you closed your eyes for a moment while allowing yourself to adjust. you rested your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself and to keep yourself grounded. low groans were leaving mingi’s lips as you continued to lower yourself onto his dick. once you were completely full of him, you stopped and looked at mingi in the eyes.
“you’ve been so patient, my princess. let me make you feel good,” you whispered as you started to bounce on his cock. you rolled your hips, allowing him to hit all the sensitive spots. soon you both were moaning together, him being much louder and whinier. you leaned against him, hugging him close to your body as you continued to rock against his cock.
mingi’s breathing was becoming more rapid—he was close. “baby, so close,” he managed to utter out between all the other noises he was producing. you stopped moving your hips, causing mingi to whine. he bucked his hips, pushing his dick deeper, hitting your cervix. you moaned into his neck; your cunt squeezing his cock. you sat your body up again, giving a few more bounces on his cock.
by now, mingi was really pulling at his restraints, eager to be free and to hold you. he thrusted his hips up again into you. although he couldn’t touch you, he still wanted to make use of his body. he was starting to lose control, rutting up into you, wanting more friction. your hands made way to his shoulders and you gripped him tightly.
mingi was now staring to gain dominance—his cock was making your head spin and pussy ache for more. you took his plump lips into a deep kiss, tongues and spit mixing. “mmm, y/n, please,” mingi groaned into the kiss. “need to fuck you.”
you wanted to make him cum without having him touch you, but at this point you just needed mingi to fuck you. your plans were falling apart. but it didn’t matter anymore, not with the way mingi was rolling his hips against your core. you needed him even more now. continuing to kiss, you reached above his head and undid the tie that was holding his hands back.
before you knew it, mingi’s hands were on your waist and you were being flipped over, being pressed into the mattress. his much larger frame covering yours. now it was your hands that were being restrained—his hands held your wrists together above your head. a whine escaped you as you tried to fight back, but it was unsuccessful. he was much bigger and stronger than you.
“it’s my turn now,” mingi said in a low voice, his eyes darkened as he gained control over you. one hand continued to pin your wrists above your head as his other hand grips your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “time for you to be a good girl now, my love.”
you whimpered as he let go of your hands and he gripped your hips, adjusting you so he could have a better angle at your core. you were so wet, pussy gripping at nothing. so desperate for mingi’s cock. thick fingers slipped between your folds, spreading your slick around. you rocked your hips, wanting more from mingi, wanting more of him inside you. two fingers were inserted and you moaned out, gripping his shoulders. slowly he began pumping his fingers in and out of your needy hole.
“still so tight even after riding me,” he chuckled deeply. he curled his fingers, rubbing at your g spot. you bucked your hips against his hand, whining, needing more. he pressed your hips down against the bed, making it difficult for you to move. the speed of his fingers fucking you were increasing.
“mingi, please,” you begged, you could feel your high building up. your back arched and you slid a hand down to your pussy, wanting some stimulation on your clit. mingi smirked when he saw you rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves.
he clicked his tongue at you. “so needy.” his free hand moved yours away from your center. “time for you to be the patient one.” his thumb presses against your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. the feeling of his fingers fucking into you and his thumb rubbing at your clit was becoming too much.
“agh, mingi!” you yelled out, finally coming undone, your whole body convulsing. pussy gripping tightly at his fingers. your breathing was hard; your chest rising as you fought to catch your breath.
“good girl, cum for me,” mingi praised you as he spread your legs further apart and slotted himself in between. “i’m not done yet.” he grabbed his achingly hard cock with the hand that was just finger fucking you. it was covered in your juices. he started to stroke himself, spreading your wetness on him. finally lining up with your entrance, he slowly pushed in. despite him working at your cunt with his fingers, you were still being stretched out by his thick cock.
when you were finally completely filled by him, mingi stopped and grabbed your legs, wrapping them around his hips. “pl..please, mingi, please!” you whined, wanting him to move. his hands held onto your hips, lifting your ass off the bed slightly—the perfect angle for him to fuck into you.
mingi started moving, his thrusts gradually increasing in speed. his cock head pounding against your cervix. the sound of skin smacking skin filled the room along with the wet squelching sounds coming from your pussy being fucked relentlessly. “you are doing so good, my love,” mingi groaned out. “your pussy is taking my cock perfectly. made just for me.”
he continued to fuck into you, his once precise thrusts now becoming sloppy. you both were close to the edge. your pussy continued to squeeze mingi’s cock as you were starting to reach your high. “mm, mingi, gonna cum!” you moaned as you felt the knot in your stomach snap.
“that’s it, baby,” mingi whispered, watching your body shake and your eyes roll back. “cum on my cock like the good girl you are.” when your body finally relaxed, mingi pulled out. he was so close to cumming. he stroked himself a few times before he finally released his hot seed all over your stomach—his favorite place to cum other than inside of you.
he collapsed onto the bed next to you, his breathing ragged. you laid there with your eyes closed, listening to mingi’s breathing. a minute passed when you felt the mattress shift. opening one eye, you saw mingi’s naked form dart to the bathroom. a laugh escaped you as you slowly sat up, resting back on your elbows, waiting for mingi to return. he shuffled back out of the bathroom with a wet washcloth, making his way back over to you.
“sorry i made such a mess,” he mumbled as he started to wipe off your belly. he always apologizes to you whenever he cums on you, even though you always tell him not to. in your opinion, you find it hot when he finishes on you. it’s his way of claiming you and you want him to know that you will always be his.
—————
taglist: @bratty-tingz, @bunnyhoneyoats, @xdinarymango, @seonghwasbaby
if anyone else wants to be added to my taglist lmk!
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Sword Spirit Au Snippet:
Disciple Luo Binghe (14?) seeing spirits for the first time after he starts demonic cultivation :)
Characters: Luo Binghe, Zheng Yang, Xiu Ya(Shen Yuan) and Meng Mo(mentioned)
Luo Binghe sighed as he focused on mediating, the odd feeling of demonic cultivation flowing through his veins. Meng Mo’s voice was advising him on how to guide the energy within him in a non-obvious way, the warm feeling of it in his core.
He’d expect it to be cold in his body, like yin energy, but instead the demonic energy felt warm. It was comforting in a strange way, like he was meant to be doing it. It was unlike the normal method of cultivation written in the manual he’d been using for years. It slipped easily around him, not like the muddy thick feeling he was used to.
He adjusted himself in his lotus position, feeling the wind brush against his dry hair. The soft noise of voices filled his ears but he couldn’t quite recognize them. He briefly looked around but didn’t see any disciples or hall masters around and sighed in relief.
He once again focused himself back into the the meditation, letting the yin energy around him enter his soul and get transformed in his core. The mumble of conversation got a bit clearer and he squinted in frustration.
Luo Binghe opened a single eye to look at the direction of the voices, seeing two figures hovering over his sword. It was… odd, as they didn’t see quite opaque but still talked very animatedly.
“Zheng Yang has been doing very well.” The taller figure cooed gently, a soft smile on his face. There were dimples as the man smiled, his hair gently swooping over his face. Soft green eyes like bamboo stared down at the smaller figure, a fond look in his eyes.
The smaller figure seemed around his height and age, very fluffy silver hair. It was the same shade of his sword, his clothes the same green as Luo Binghe’s own. He had a motif of suns on his quarter sleeves and belt.
Sun… Yang.
Luo Binghe hissed as he shut his eyes quickly again, the taller figure’s eyes peeling away from what could only be Zheng Yang’s spirit.
“Baba.” Zheng Yang said quite happily, hovering closer to Luo Binghe given the closeness of his voice now. “Look how well he’s cultivating!”
“Binghe does cultivate very will.” The older man said quite happily. Then there was an odd feeling on his head, like a hand was patting his hair. Luo Binghe blushed at the idea of such a pretty man touching him so gently and tenderly. “Has he been well recently?”
“He’s been bothered less.” Zheng Yang nodded gently. “But Yingying and Fan have also been busy. I haven’t gotten to see Chun Mei or Ang Xiao around at all.”
Ning-Shijie’s sword and Ming Fan’s? Luo Binghe let out a soft huff in frustration. The other sword spirit must belong to one of the nicer hallmasters around if he was so friendly, and free to do as he pleased.
“I’m sure once they get used to their wielders they’ll hang out with you again.” The pretty spirit said again, removing his hand from Luo Binghe’s head. The disciple gently opened his eyes just to see what was going on. The tall man was knelt on the ground as he embraced Zheng Yang, patting his back.
“Baba” the younger spirit said and that made Luo Binghe huff in annoyance. Could sword spirits have children? A question for another day. “I’m still worried about him.”
“I’ll check him over, Yang-Er.” The spirit said very gently, brushing a hand on Zheng Yang’s face. Luo Binghe looked away from the scene in embrassment, feeling like he was intruding on some familial moment he’d never experienced.
The tall sword spirit came over to him and gently put a hand ‘on’ his cheek, those soft green eyes looking at his face. Luo Binghe took in a deep breath and switched how his legs were folded, ignoring the man leaning so close to him. The spirit dragged his hand over Luo Binghe’s chest to his upper dantian, making the disicple slightly shiver. The spirit’s energy was gently checking out his, observing his veins and cultivation.
“This Xiu Ya thinks Binghe is just how he should be.” The sword spirit- Xiu Ya… XIU YA? Finally said, leaning away and taking his warm energy away. Luo Binghe trained his expression so his shock didn’t show, because how in all three realms could his teacher’s sword be so nice and gentle.
Another thought. Why did Xiu Ya see everything as fine? Luo Binghe could still feel the demonic energy inside of him, so surely the older man could too. He opened his eyes and fizzled out his meditation, looking at Xiu Ya as the man sweeping robes flowed behind him as he went back to Zheng Yang.
Xiu Ya very gently curled his arms around the other spirit, Zheng Yang leaning comfortably into the touch. There were some soft whispers before Xiu Ya pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead, bidding him goodbye.
Luo Binghe brought himself to stand as he watched Xiu Ya go away, watching his robes and ribbons flutter in the wind.
“Damn.” He murmurs under his breath, his face flushed as he stared. Zheng Yang slowly turns on his heel and the two make eye contact for a moment, the sword spirit’s eyes going wide.
“You can see me?!?” Zheng Yang yelled, then paused “And who are you looking at like that?!” He hissed, standing in front of Luo Binghe in a huff.
#greeniegaes#svsss#shen qingqiu#shen yuan#svsss au#snippets#fic snippet#fanfic#Luo Binghe#Zheng Yang#sword spirit au#sword spirit shen yuan#scum villain’s self saving system#scum villain au#and technically#bingqiu
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— ✧ idubilu
pairing. xu minghao x reader
description. obligatory company dinners are never much fun, but you understand that your husband has to go through with them at the end of each month anyways. luckily, he knows just how to make it up to you once you two get home.
genre. smut (18+ / mdni) tags under the cut, ceo & husband minghao, fluff
w/c. 2.8k
a/n. yk i don’t rly like pwp but i needed to pay homage to the idubilu choreo. that's it.
✘ tags. oral (f receiving), petnames (princess, pretty), they're just rly horny 4 each other lol, reader wears a suit and she is SEXY! ✘ taglist. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @ming-h0e @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @marzmeltdown @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @hipsdofangirl @nikkixpenguin @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @whippedforjihoon @yunjinified @nishloves @woozarts @ellesmoon @blurryriki @maknae00 @jjjzzzz @marzmeltdown @peachyaeger @shoulietaro (strikethrough could not be tagged) join my taglist here!
A tight lipped smile is the only thing you’re wearing tonight. Well, that and a stiff pair of dress pants and button up shirt; usually you opt for wearing dresses to these sorts of things, but the one you’d picked out earlier was itchy in all the worst spots and really, you couldn’t bother to choose another one so you settled for this suit. It’s definitely more comfortable, but your feet still ache in the confines of your heels as you wrap your fingers around the cool glass of champagne.
Your husband is in the corner of your vision, talking to some associate as you stand by the buffet table, as you contemplate if you even have the stomach to eat anything right now. You’re overreacting—you know you are—but after long hours at work and an even longer hours trying to clean up the mess your cat had made at home, you’re not the least bit thrilled to spend your evening hours (the ones you usually spend curled up by Minghao’s side) here.
The champagne fizzles out on your tongue when you take a sip, sighing as you lean against the wall. You want to leave, that much is obvious. Minghao can sense it from across the room—the way your arms are crossed over your chest and you look down at your shoes, only glancing up to flicker your eyes at him and then the clock.
“45 more minutes,” you mutter to yourself when he finally excuses himself and walks over with a plate of food in his hands.
“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says lowly when he’s finally within ear shot. “I know you hate coming to these.”
You let your shoulders deflate a little when you hear the sincerity in your voice, reminding yourself that this is your husband. “No it’s … it’s fine, these shoes just hurt,” you tell him honestly, shifting your weight from leg to leg as Minghao hands you his plate.
“Sit down and eat. I’ll wrap this up in half an hour and then we can leave.” You frown, taking the plate from his hands. “And remind me to get you new shoes if these ones suck—you know I hate seeing you in pain.”
You roll your eyes as he follows you to the nearest empty table in the hall. “Simp,” you tease, slipping into a seat and begrudgingly stuffing your face with one of the hor d’oeuvres.
“Whatever you say princess,” he sighs, stepping back. “I’ll be back in a bit, and then we’ll get going, ‘kay?” You nod and he walks off with a final wave, just as bored as before but a little less bitter. After all, Minghao’s sweet words and kind promises always leave a warm feeling budding in your heart.
Still, the next thirty minutes are long. You watch him not too discreetly now, getting lost in yourself as the night progresses. Minghao has long ditches his black coat, and is instead donned in a simple set of black pants and white shirt, nearly perfectly matching you. It’s a kind thought that occupies your mind for the remainder of your time—the fact that you and Minghao match each other perfectly.
You’re left with you and your thoughts, and although it’s a long wait, relief waves over your form when you hear Minghao thank everyone for coming. You make your way to his side while he does so, his arm secured around your waist as the two of you bow and wave everyone out as they shuffle out the room until it’s just the two of you left.
“Oh god, I thought I’d never get to take these off,” you huff, sitting on one of the round tables once everyone’s gone, slipping the tight heels over your sore feet. Your husband watches you sympathetically as he tucks his phone back into his pocket, workers making their way into the hall to clean up.
“I told you, we can go get new ones. Let’s go home now though,” he says, holding a hand out as you reach down to pick up your shoes. Minghao scrunches his nose up when you put your bare feet on the ground. “Ew. Don’t do that!”
You frown. “Why not! My feet hurt and I don’t care if it’s dirty—I can’t stand it anymore!”
Minghao sighs and shakes his head, and for a moment you think you’ve won this battle but then he’s turning around and tapping at his back. “C’mon, let’s go.”
“I am not g—”
Minghao shoots you a warning look, and you suddenly realize you’re too exhausted to care that much anyways. “I’ll give you a treat.”
Your tummy tumbles, and you’re glad he’s turned away so he can’t see the shit eating grin that creeps onto your lips. You don’t exactly understand what Minghao means by a treat as you climb onto his back, but when he secures his arms under your legs, you learn that you don’t need to.
You trust Minghao, more than anyone if you’re being honest, so as you curl your face into his neck as he carries you out of the company building and to the car, finally driving you home, you sit and smile because you know whatever he’s going to give you, you’re going to love it just as you love him.
So yeah, you’re not exactly surprised when Minghao pushes you onto the soft covers of the bed as soon as you enter your house, but then again, you’re not complaining either.
“You look really sexy in a suit,” Minghao murmurs, climbing on top of you as his fingers find his way up your pants and by its waistband.
“You don’t like it when I wear dresses?” you muse, shuffling up onto your elbows so you can lift your hips, Minghao yanking your pants down as you do.
“I do,” he says casually, sitting back on his heels as you kick the pants off and onto the ground, leaving your legs bare as Minghao settles between them. Slowly, he runs his fingers over them, the ghost of a touch as he traces over the inside of your thighs, circles around your knees, and smooths over your shins before finally curling them around your ankles.
You grow limp under him, letting his strong arms lift your legs up high as he runs his soft lips over the flesh of your calves. He whispers into your skin, the hot breath sending a ripple of shivers coursing through you. “Dresses are nice … but suits … fu-u-uck,” he draws out, placing open mouthed kisses down the inside of your legs.
You whimper when he shuffles down the bed and presses his face between your thighs, lips moving rougher and more fervent as he nips and lips at the skin. Minghao wants to drown himself in you—wants you to be the only thing he can taste on his tongue, wants you to be the only thing he can smell as he buries himself in the beauty between your legs.
“Fuck,” he groans, peeling himself away for a moment to stare down at you—your shirt is half unbuttoned, revealing the peek of your cleavage, and your lips are puffy, eyes blown out and hair all strewn as you await for more.
There aren’t words exchanged as Minghao starts to tug at his tie that’s starting to feel all too tight, the silk fabric tumbling between his deft fingers as he pulls it to the side and lets it fall onto the bed. He’s working through but buttons next, starting by the collar and working his way down, and you find yourself growing lost into sight of him.
From the way his adam’s apple bounces and jaw clenches when you whimper, to the way his shirt falls from his shoulders and leaves his pretty chest on display—you’re fucking entranced. Minghao rolls his neck back once, flashing you a hint of his chiseled jawline before craning his head back down and sucking your lips into a deep kiss.
His hands smooth under your shirt and press against your stomach as you grip at his firm shoulders as he mumbles against your lips, “Lemme eat you out.” God, the way he says it is so crude and so dirty, but fuck, if it doesn’t have you nuzzling your nose into his and nodding as your eyes flutter shut …
Minghao moves slowly, and it’s around now that you’d usually start to get impatient; you’d start to whine and squirm, chanting his name in hopes to get him to speed it up. Something in the air is different tonight, and as you close your eyes, you bask in the feeling of his body moving down yours.
You drink in the sounds of his soft pants and echoes of his mouth sucking against your exposed skin. Minghao is meticulous—he always is. It’s how he rose to the top in practically everything he did, and it’s how he’s making you crumble beneath his palms right now.
Your limbs move together in tandem, like you were both built for each other and each other only, bodies intertwining in a heated yet perfect mess as Minghao wraps his arms under your thighs and over your hips when you pull your soiled panties off. He’s done this more times than you can count, but not once has not left you in awe when he licks the first fat stripe.
Minghao knows you well—so, so well—better than yourself, you would add with no hesitation. He knows how to make you smile, knows how to make you laugh, knows how to make you writhe beneath him.
When his tongue delves between your folds and he sucks against the sensitive flesh, Minghao knows exactly what he’s doing. You glance down, finally parting your eyes, and are met with the sight of Minghao’s own heavy lids, and your stomach churns in the realization that he truly is enjoying this as much as you are.
Moans break free from your throat as he slides his tongue up and down, flicking against your clit and making out against your gaping cunt. The words on your tongue come out in a mangled mess, and Minghao can’t really understand what you’re saying, but then again, he doesn’t need to because he loves it.
Loves the way you’re whining from just a few subtle movements, loves how you chant his name like it’s the only word you know—fuck, Minghao loves everything goddamn thing about you and it’s driving him fucking crazy.
Minghao watches you grind upwards to meet the pace of his tongue and lips—it’s perfect. “The best,” he groans, parting his lips from your cunt for a moment so you can hear him better, although he’s not sure you’re even paying attention.
Your neck is thrown back and one hand is threaded through his hair, the other gripping at one of your exposed tits as white noise rushes through your ears. “Could live here,” Minghao says, not really to you but more to himself as he gazes down at your shiny folds before diving back in.
You, you, you, is all Minghao can think, and as he snakes one hand up your stomach, gripping at your other unattended breast, fingers flexing and clenching around the bouncy flesh. “Oh—Hao!” you whine out when he pinches your nipple. It’s not rough or harsh, but you’re so sensitive all over that even the brush of his hair against your skin has you jerking into his touch.
The cry of his name only eggs him on, and Minghao finds his eyes shutting tight as digs his face deeper and deeper into your slobbering core. Through the sucking, through the lapping, through the borderline making out with your cunt, Minghao starts to talk.
He tells you how good you taste, how pretty you sound, how fucking hard he is—his princess, that’s what he calls you. His pretty, pretty princess. Minghao doesn’t even know if you can hear him, but he also knows it doesn’t matter.
You’ll understand.
Minghao knows you’ll understand because everytime you moan his name, his hold on your tits tightens and his lips move with more and more vigor until you’re pulsing—fuck, he hasn’t even stuck anything in yet and you’re already being driven damn close to insanity.
It comes out in broken sobs—“‘m gonna cum, H-H-Hao! ‘m g’na—fuck!”
And he responds with equal passion, mutter into your wetness to, “Do it—fucking do it.”
Minghao devours you through the high that permeates your body, and you feel he might as well swallow you whole with the way his hands are all over you and the way you’re tugging at his hair (it’s painful, but Minghao concludes that this is the best kind of pain).
And then he’s kissing you, your sweet arousal mixing in a mess of both of your saliva as your tongues clash together. Your cheeks are wet as they press against each other and there you two are, rolling around on the sheets until your head is spinning, partly from the buzz of your orgasm but mainly from the pure passion that surges through your blood.
Your hands are in his hair, on his chest, sinking into his back, fumbling with his pants—they’re everywhere because, fuck, you just need to feel him. Minghao is no different because he’s also everywhere—unclipping your bra but still keeping your shirt on, sliding his hands over your tits and pressing against your neck, grinding into you as you shove his pants and boxers down.
You’re on top of him when he’s finally kicked his pants off, grinding down on the massive hard-on he’s wearing, swiveling your hips as he grips onto your tits as if they were a lifeline. “Put it in pretty,” Minghao moans, tweaking one nipple between his fingers as he uses his other hand to tap his thick, leaking cock against the base of your stomach.
He doesn’t need to tell you twice, and you’re pressing forward and lifting your hips. Again, Minghao knows you well. So well that it hardly takes him a second to find your dripping hole, aligning himself with you before jutting upwards.
You cry out at the sensation, sinking down on him almost immediately as your lips meet for another fervent kiss. It’s maddening, really, the way your clit rubs against his pelvis as you carefully rock your hips forward once you get adjusted to his side.
You moan into each other’s mouths and drink up the pleasure because that’s all you two know—in this moment, it’s only you and Minghao.
It’ll only ever be you and Minghao, because no one’s gonna be able to carve the shape of their cock into you like he’s doing so well right now. No one’s gonna lift their hips and swivel right back down, sucking him in and clenching him so tight like you’re doing so well right now. No one’s gonna ever share a moment like the two of you do right now, and as Minghao paws at your waist and threads his fingers into your hair, you both don’t need to say it, but you know.
Skin against skin echoes in symphony with your broken gasps and choked sobs as you begin to bounce over Minghao. He’s got you in a grip like a vise as he murmurs, “Princess—fuck, my pretty princess—feels s’good,” he slurs, to which you can only furrow your brows in pleasure and nod dumbly. You feel like you’re on fire, sweat all over as you chew down on your lip, trying to shake off the soaked dress shirt, but Minghao stops you with a firm hand on your arm.
“Keep it on pretty,” he whines, “Please.”
Something about the desperation in his voice has your heart strings strumming, and let your hand fall back onto him, shifting so his cock hits even deep inside of you. Your squeezing is more than he can handle, and Minghao wraps his arms around your waist and holds you close, lips ghosting over your neck and teeth sinking into your skin.
Through mangled whispers and hot skin, tangled limbs and melting lips, you two move through sheets languidly. For how long, you can’t say, but when you two reach your peaks together, it’s with words of love pushed through gritted teeth hard kisses.You two probably won’t be able to understand what the other is saying, but that’s okay because you don’t need to. You’ll know and Minghao will know—I love you.
#minghao x reader#minghao smut#xu minghao x reader#xu minghao smut#svt smut#seventeen smut#📝 writing
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IM BACK AND I HAVE PERCIVER HEAD CANONS TO SHARE!!!
They meet in first year on the Hogwarts express. Percy's holding a giant book on third year divination. While this makes him a less attractive friend in the eyes of others', it's what brings Oliver Wood to the same train car as him. They introduce themselves and shake hands.
In second year, Oliver makes the Quidditch team as their keeper. Percy still spends the majority of his time indoors, but he goes to Ollie's practices and games every once in a while. After one specific game, Oliver comes back to the dorm with his breath cut short and with tears in his eyes. He stops breathing and the world goes spinning between each of his eyes; a panic attack, madame Pomphrey later describes it. The crowd triggered it.
Percy comforts him, sits on the same floor as him, rubbing the boy's back, repeating reassurance: "you're safe here,"
"You were good out there, really."
"I'll sit with you for as long as it takes."
Oliver comes to with his head on Percy's shoulder.
In third year, Percy goes to every practice and every game. He rubs Oliver's back when he returns to the dorm. When he loses for the first time, Percy has to chase him to stop him from running away, never to be found again.
"Hey, listen," Percy says, out of breath from the running. He doesn't understand how Oliver's barely breaking a sweat. "Tell me, okay? What went wrong out there?"
He gives Oliver a minute to pause and think.
Oliver gathers his thoughts and his breath. The sweat dripping down his neck fuels him, gives him energy. It clouds his head. He needs to calm down.
"I slipped on my broom." He says finally. "I wasn't planted on it properly."
"Good. What are you gonna do to fix it?" Percy replies, breathing better.
"I'll improve my grip."
"Good."
The two of them stand there, just breathing.
"Thanks."
In fourth year, they have the Yule Ball. Both of them are fifteen. Their year mates are out and about minging, asking each other out. The two of them stay where they are. They don't speak of the ball.
They go to the dance together, as friends of course. Percy keeps adjusting the collar to his hand-me-down dress robes. Oliver assures him that his attire is charming.
He sighs.
"If you had to wear these, I guarantee you'd understand me." Percy says. Over the summer his voice has changed. It's deeper and richer. Oliver loves it. Wishes he could taste it. Wishes these thoughts would go away. He grins and laughs Percy off.
When it's time to dance, they run away to a balcony that Percy didn't even know existed. They laugh and chat, making jokes at the dancers' expenses. Percy's had a bit to drink, (had he known the punch was alcoholic, he wouldn't have gone near it) and his face is flushed deep red.
"AND- and then when the-" he howls laughter. Oliver has to stop him from falling over himself.
Oliver thinks... He can't think at all. Suddenly. The two of them are so close together. He's got his arm around Percy's back and Percy's leaning against him, hands on Oliver's chest, still laughing. When he stops and catches his breath, though, the two of them seem to freeze. Oliver's heart skips a beat when he can physically feel Percy tensing up.
He kisses him.
Very awkwardly.
He made little action with his lips, just gently brushing his against the other boy's. The boy in question grins. Now it's Oliver's turn to flush deep red.
"ha-HA! No, wait, no, Oliver, wait."
Percy pulls Oliver back towards him by the arm. They're tangled with each other again, Oliver giving in to the urge to smile, just a bit, even after being embarrassed.
They kiss. Properly this time. It's the best thing Oliver's felt in his life. When they pull away, he whispers,
"Are you my boyfriend now?"
Percy smiles.
"Yes."
In fifth year, nightmares attack. O.W.Ls. Percy never sleeps anymore.
Oliver has to drag him away from his work table and force him onto his bed. When that bed later becomes repurposed for more studies, Oliver forces him onto his own bed. They sleep together and their dorm mates start getting suspicious.
Oliver sleeps in pajama bottoms and nothing else. Percy sleeps in a sweater and boxers. They spoon and Oliver rests his arm in front of Percy's only exit to stop him from crawling out of bed to study. Little does he know, Percy would never dare leave.
During the waking hours, Oliver drags Percy to other important places, such as breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The outdoors. Interaction with other human beings. It's a tough life out here for him.
When the exams finally start approaching, they do not stop making out. It's the only thing that gets Percy's mind off things. Only because there's nothing more distracting than Oliver's mouth.
To his own surprise and nobody else's, Percy passes his O.W.Ls with flying colours. Oliver passes alright despite not studying.
In sixth year it's the same for their N.E.W.Ts.
Something changes in the relationship between Percy and the rest of the student body, especially the girls. Oliver knows he's gotten taller. And his freckles have cleared enough for his gorgeous face to be visible. His voice is still as beautiful as it was in fourth year. He's started rolling up the sleeves of his sweaters, and the halls seem to swoon rapidly when they spot his forearms. Oliver always knew that Percy could have this power over people; he'd been subject to it himself. But it annoys him. And what's even worse is that Percy doesnt seem to notice when he's being flirted with.
He gets into the habit of writing on Oliver with pens, a strange Muggle device that's actually pretty nifty. Some mornings, Oliver wakes up with markings he doesn't even remember. Percy writes on his chest a lot. Draws on his collarbone. The most repeated word is Percy's name.
Oliver looks in the mirror one day, at his shirtless body.
PROPERTY OF PERCIVAL IGNATIUS WEASLEY
It says this all over his torso.
He grins. No one's stealing Percy from him anytime soon.
They pass their N.E.W.Ts.
The Summer Before Seventh Year
France is a gorgeous place, Oliver realises. Filled with gorgeous girls, too. He's lounging at the beach when one of them asks him out. He's put on the spot and exposed, wearing nothing but his swimming shorts and sunglasses. He fumbles over his words.
"Err, I mean, no..." The girl frowns. She has gorgeous eyes. "I mean, yes, sure. Is Friday at 7 PM okay with you?"
It doesn't even occur to him that she's a Muggle.
Immediately after he's uttered these words, he regrets it. But he can't stand her up. And she's already walking away. Merlin, Percy's gonna kill him.
It's just one date and Oliver doesn't even enjoy. They don't touch each other at all; they don't even hold hands. But Oliver knows what he's done, and he knows what he has to do.
He writes a letter.
I love you. I'm sorry. I couldn't live with myself if I kept it secret.
He sends it away with his black owl.
At the Burrow, Percy receives two letters back to back on his birthday. The first is from Hogwarts, confirmation that he's this year's Head Boy. He jumps around the kitchen, all dignity forgotten, and hugs his mother with an enormous grin on his face.
The second is from Oliver.
How quickly Percy's face turns sour. Mrs Weasley asks if he's okay.
Tears sting his eyes. Outside, he tells his mother everything.
One day before the start of the school year, the Weasley's are staying at the Leakey Cauldron overnight. Percy hears pebbles being thrown at his window and goes to see who it is.
Oliver Wood. Merlin.
Percy goes downstairs, striding towards his partner. Punches him in the face and immediately feels bad, but doesn't let that stop him. His voice is somewhere between a whisper and a yell and a sob,
"How could you?"
"I'm so sorry, Percy."
"Why did you do it?"
"We didn't do anything. Didn't touch her. I remember what you wrote on me."
Percy breathes in deep.
"I wasn't talking about just your body, Oliver. I was talking about you. All of you." He exhales, trying to hold himself together.
"I wouldn't think twice about rejecting some Muggle girl for you. You think I didn't notice when the whole female population at school suddenly wanted to date me? Just because of my body? I resisted them for you, Oliver. Because I love you. Why couldn't you do that for me?"
"I don't know. I'm so, so sorry."
They decide to take a break from their relationship. When they start attending school again, their dorm mates wonder why they've stopped sleeping together.
#perciver#percy weasley#oliver wood#hp#<3#this turned very angsty indeed#wrote this from 1AM to 2AM on low battery because it needed to be written#youre welcome
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So instead of writing, I've got another MDZS AU idea because that's what everyone wants to see from me hahaha...haha...
ANYWAY, picture Wei Wuxian as a ferryman/grim reaper figure in modern times, having lurked around in the shadows through the centuries, always there to greet the newly dead souls and gently unknot the tether that linked them to their bodies. The mortals called him the Yiling Laozu, based on the folktale about the poor little orphan who died in Yiling but came back to protect them when the most powerful ones would not.
A few of the worst souls are held below him like minions, too controversial to be allowed into the realm of the afterlife - according to the gods that rule over the place, anyway.
Fortunately for a small percentage of these souls, while the rest of them are left to fade away into the overwhelming Darkness, Wei Wuxian's sense of justice far outweighed his sense of duty and - because he didn't agree with some of these choices - he took them on as...employees, of sorts.
Hey, if the powers that be decide that he doesn't need help with the frankly never-ending workload that came with dealing with people dying (two people per second!! That was one hundred and six a minute, and he was expected to deal with that alone???), he's going to take matters into his own hands and collect his own help.
Hong'er was a soul that fought when Wei Wuxian began untying the bright red tether. He was used to the pain and the blood that was spilled as he remained ever gentle with unknotting the ribbon from the heart. The screaming and the anger was usual for a soldier felled in battle; hearing the soul screaming with such anguish, with such love for a god, was not. Wei Wuxian heard this and he paused - this pause was enough to allow the soul to slip through his grasp.
He didn't go after the little soul.
However, when the souls of the restless dead fell from his clutches and left him broken in the Space Between, he was a lot less merciful of the little soul; if he could not make the god apologise for leaving Wei Wuxian to put himself back together (was it truly so strange? Why was he so upset about this? It happened often - he was just another weapon, another tool for these gods, and this time he could only keep his self control in check for so long), he would collect the soul that had escaped before.
When the Yiling Laozu came for the wandering soul Wu Ming, he snatched him back just before the hoardes of violent spirits could tear him to shreds (he would not wish that pain upon anyone, not after what had happened to him) and dragged said spirits into the darkness for what they had done to him. Let them calm down there for a few centuries.
But Wu Ming was barred from the afterlife, for how he fought and thrashed and hit and bit and kicked and ripped (Hua Cheng would apologise for it later, shamefaced and almost silent, and Wei Wuxian would forgive him but never forget the blood that was spilt), and Wei Wuxian could not just abandon him in the Darkness after trying so hard to keep him whole in the first place.
The Yiling Laozu took on his first employee.
In contrast, the next one he plucked up was far less violent, far less angry but just...so, so scared. Hurt. Another teenager, this time shoved into what mortals called “The Abyss”. Wei Wuxian had always thought that to be a little too dramatic, considering it was really no more than a shallow crack when compared to the deeper, darker places he called home.
Luo Binghe's soul had been only loosely tied to his body with a thin, pale red string, so washed out and weak that it had fallen apart when Wei Wuxian's hands tried to unknot it - he had had to keep the soul together in his own hands so it didn't crumble right then and there. Despite the obvious weakness of the soul, the gods would not accept this poor, sad teenager into the afterlife; they gave no reason for it, but they would not let him in.
Of course, Hua Cheng had been close to storming the afterlife himself (so filled with rage, despite all this time), but the Yiling Laozu just curled around the poor broken soul and offered it the warmth and protection it so desperately craved, gave it stability and affection until those cracks began to heal and Luo Binghe could hold himself together.
Yiling Laozu's second employee was far more sensitive than the first, brittle compared to the harsh walls, but he had just as much anger and frustration at his disposal if a particularly tricky soul had left Wei Wuxian broken and bleeding (he wasn't used to people picking him back up and fixing him, so accustomed to doing it himself that he had flinched the first hundred times it had happened).
Something something there will be other employees and this was entirely derailed but the whole point was supposed to be Lan Wangji having a near death experience and floating in the In Between but a soft, warm voice laughing sweetly and telling him that his tether was far too strong, far too bright, to be untied now. Gentle hands holding him by his very sense of self and offering soothing touches as the darkness disappeared and the blinding white light of the hospital replaced it.
N then he's like 'I must have been hallucinating or dreaming' but then he almost dies again and this time the voice is tutting and scolding but still laughing as it talks of how eager Lan Wangji must be to meet him, those warm warm hands caressing his soul and then pushing it back down into his body.
When he finds an old folktale about the Yiling Laozu in his research, it's safe to say that he is desperate to see the entity he had fallen in love with once again.
God hold me BACK, I cannot be stopped from yapping!!! Tell me if you're interested lmao, I haven't even talked about the other employees (apprentices??) and also Lan Wangji being madly in love with this deity of old (let my man be a possible monsterfucker /silly).
#four being a dumbass#the ferryman au#I JUST HAD A HEART ATTACK#MY TUMBLR JUST CRASHED ON MY PHONE AND I DIDN'T KNOW IF MY WHOLE DRAFT WAS GONE#OOOOH MY GOD#anyway#grandmaster of demonic cultivation#heaven official's blessing#scum villian self saving system#mo dao zu shi#tian guan ci fu#ren zha fanpai zijiu xitong#mxtx mdzs#mxtx tgcf#mxtx svsss#mdzs#tgcf#svsss#wei wuxian#wei ying#lan wangji#lan zhan#wangxian#hua cheng#hong er#luo binghe
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