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iknow-youknow-hyunho · 23 days ago

Text

feels so good (minsung x afab!reader)

Rating: Explicit (minors DO NOT INTERACT!)

Pairing: Lee Minho x Han Jisung x Reader – reader is AFAB, I used they/them pronouns when pronouns were unavoidable + there is no description of the reader’s appearance or body (except for naming body parts, referred to as “pussy” and “breasts”)

Word count: ~14,5k

Summary: You go to a party at the SKZ dorms, play some party games, and things take a somewhat unexpected twist at the end of the night.

Content warnings: alcohol + drinking games (but no one is particularly drunk), explicit language, handjobs, fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), P in V sex, scratching, light spanking, use of pet names (“baby”, “kitten”)

Author’s note: this is my first SKZ fic, I hope you enjoy <3 would appreciate any and all feedback! Use protection and don’t forget to pee after sex if u have a vagina xoxo.

It was party night with Stray Kids. You were looking forward to this, but you were also quite nervous. You hadn’t been a part of their close circle for very long yet and you’d only partied with them a couple of times before in that time period. Their schedules didn’t often allow for very much time off, especially with all eight of them being free on the same evening and the next day as well. This was one of those rare instances in which they all had an entire weekend off, so you knew what that meant.

Yes, the boys were all in their twenties, but they still often acted like a group of rowdy teenagers, and if you were honest, this was one of the things you loved most about them. You liked that they didn’t take things too seriously, that they enjoyed games and having fun and doing whatever it was they felt like without worrying about what anyone else thought. They were pretty accustomed to acting silly on camera already, but especially in the privacy of their own homes, they really didn’t hold back. You enjoyed being around that kind of energy because you had always struggled to fully let out your crazy, playful side. But simply by being around them for a couple of months at this point, you were slowly starting to loosen up. And so tonight would be good. You just hoped that you could leave your worries behind and let yourself fully enjoy the chaos.

Of course it didn’t help that you had a massive crush on Minho, of all people, and were mortified of him finding out. He was so hard to read and it was definitely taking him the longest out of everyone to really thaw to you, although you did get along fairly well by now. But it just hadn’t quite reached that place of effortless ease yet that you’d gotten to naturally with most of the others – some more so than the rest. You got along particularly well with Jisung and Hyunjin and had become very comfortable being your true self around them. The rest of the group even joked around that you were Minho’s unofficial Paboracha replacement member when he wasn’t around, which happened occasionally. He was fond of quiet alone time just as much as he loved hanging out with the rest of the gang, which was something you could relate to and yet another reason you felt drawn to him. But you were very afraid of being laughed at should he find out how you felt. You knew him well enough to be pretty sure he would never be so cruel, even if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, but your stupid anxiety-riddled brain still loved to present you with worst-case scenarios that you couldn’t quite disregard.

On top of that, you genuinely weren’t sure if there was something romantic going on between him and Jisung and did not want to cause problems if there was. Stray Kids were all fairly open with each other in terms of physical and emotional closeness – and had, at least partially, begun to include you in that, which you loved. They were like this even more so when the cameras were off, but you still didn’t know if there were any relationship boundaries that you weren’t aware of and did not want to unintentionally step on anyone’s toes. So needless to say, you felt there was a lot at stake.

You didn’t think it was completely unrealistic that your crush would come out at some point tonight, even though you hadn’t explicitly confessed it to anybody yet. The group was very used to teasing each other, didn’t seem to have many secrets between them, and was extremely good at reading each other – not surprising, given the sheer amount of time everyone spent together. Add alcohol and party games to the mix and the chances became exponentially higher of your secret seeing the light of day. You knew that none of the boys would ever cross any boundaries if you seriously set them and told them you didn’t want to talk about something, but you were afraid your behavior would give you away regardless. Still, you were excited for a night of fun and craziness with your eight favorite people, and you didn’t want to let your worries take that away from you.

As you were making your way over to the dorms, specifically Felix and Seungmin’s, which had been decided on as the location for tonight’s party, your phone buzzed. Minho had just texted the group chat that he would be running late, as he was still taking care of a few things. At first, disappointment washed over you. You were very much looking forward to seeing him – even if the interactions between you two didn’t always flow as easily as you wanted, just being around him made you happy. But when you thought about it a little longer, you realized this could be a good thing. It could give you a chance to loosen up and get used to the atmosphere enough to hopefully get out of your head and into the moment as much as possible by the time he got there. With that slight bit of relief in mind, you quickened your pace as you got off the subway and soon arrived at the SKZ dorms, where Felix buzzed you in once you texted him that you were downstairs. He was waiting to greet you at the door of his dorm with an enormous grin on his face and you felt your heart warm instantly at the sight.

---

It was a couple of drinks, some chatting and a few quick games into the night. The atmosphere was light-hearted, everyone was loose and laughing, and you could tell the general consensus was to spice things up a little bit. And so you weren’t particularly surprised when Felix suggested playing Truth or Dare. It was a game that combined everything he loved: seeing his best friends be silly as well as bonding over shared secrets and anecdotes. Jisung, a lover of chaos, shouted his agreement quickly once Felix brought up the suggestion. Jeongin and Chan pretended like they didn’t want to play at first, but you knew from experience that once the game started, Chan could never hide his genuine laugh at the antics, while Jeongin’s appalled face in situations like these was always put on and he was, in fact, enjoying himself. The two of them alone couldn’t override the rest of the group’s wishes regardless. Even if they’d truly wanted to – one look at Felix’s pleading pout would turn anyone weak.

And so Seungmin began smirking while Changbin rubbed his hands together in glee as you all settled in a circle. Some of you sat on the floor, some on the sofas and armchairs that stood around where the coffee table usually was; it had been moved to the side for tonight. Hyunjin plopped down onto a big armchair, pulling you with him. He casually rested his arms on top of your legs as you draped them across his. Once everyone had settled you made eye contact with Felix, whose eyes glinted from the other side of the circle, before he shifted them to look at the man sitting with you.

“Hyunjin, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Hyunjin smirked, radiating confidence, his facial expression basically begging Felix to do his worst. But it was Felix, and Felix was an angel who took every opportunity to see his friends be cute with each other, so he started the game off by daring Hyunjin to kiss anyone of his choosing on the cheek. You groaned in mock annoyance as Hyunjin shifted your legs off of him in order to fulfill his dare, but just before he could, Felix told him to wait and ran out of the room quickly. When he returned he was carrying red lipstick, which he handed to his friend. The latter took it from him reluctantly and Felix grinned in delight.

While Hyunjin was applying the lipstick, Changbin couldn’t stop himself from shouting out how beautiful he looked and proceeding to offer himself repeatedly and quite enthusiastically as the “kiss victim”. This earned him a light punch on the arm from Jisung, who was next to him on the ground. Hyunjin threw his head back, laughing out loud, and shot Changbin a grin before kneeling down next to Jeongin instead. Changbin crossed his arms and sent a mock-offended pout Hyunjin’s way, but he couldn’t hold his giggle back for long at the scene that was unfolding.

Jeongin was protesting vehemently and wailing as Hyunjin got closer and closer to him, straining his neck to move his head as far away as possible. But he couldn’t prevent the inevitable, and when Hyunjin gave him a big smacker on the cheek, leaving a bright red mark, the smile on his face spoke for itself – as did the overjoyed expressions on everyone else’s. Chan reached over to pinch a fake-pouty Jeongin’s other cheek, delighted. You found yourself grinning as well as a red-lipped Hyunjin returned to the armchair and you made space for him to get back into his earlier position, draping your legs back over his body and reaching up to run your hand over his hair affectionately as you did.

Hyunjin proceeded to dare Changbin to freestyle a sexy dance, which he gladly did, quickly hijacking the playlist in order to play one of his favorite girl group songs. Then he strutted into the center of the group, half-drunk beer in hand, and gave it his all, finishing his little dance off with a hip thrust and wink in Hyunjin’s direction. The latter couldn’t stop laughing in delight the entire time – you could feel his entire body vibrating from it and it made you giggle uncontrollably as well.

You took a moment to appreciate the pure positive energy in this room. Jeongin was still shielding his eyes from when Changbin had shaken his butt in his direction; Felix was grinning from ear to ear; Jisung was doubled over in tears from laughter. You felt so warm and fuzzy inside, surrounded by your favorite people. Only Minho was missing to complete this moment. But he would be here soon, and for now everything was going as you had hoped: you were feeling quite relaxed.

Despite that, you had still decided to stick to dares for now in order to avoid any potentially awkward questions, so when Changbin picked you to go next, he ended up daring you to sing a part of one of SKZ’s songs. You groaned and smacked your hand against your forehead, knowing full well you were about to embarrass yourself. But then again – these boys embarrassed themselves all the time. And you loved them for it. Time to steer into the chaos, then. You cleared your throat exaggeratedly, then proceeded to rap Felix’s part in “Maze of Memories”, complete with a fake deep voice and terrible Australian accent, dancing around on your armchair with Hyunjin while everyone else cheered and pumped their fists.

Next you dared Jisung to close his eyes and let Seungmin feed him something without knowing what it would be. This earned you a smile from Seungmin that could only be described as pure evil before he went and got a slice of lemon to stick in Jisung’s mouth. The latter’s expression was priceless as he bit into it.

As the game wore on, your cheeks began to almost hurt from laughter. More truths and dares were flung around the group, among them: Chan eating a spoonful of hot sauce, which made him turn as red as a tomato; Felix shamefully revealing his most recent League of Legends stats; Seungmin reading out his most recent Google searches (some of which were very questionable); Jeongin letting Chan do his hair full of sparkly ribbons and little butterfly clips (no one questioning why Felix had all of these just laying around); Changbin recalling an embarrassing story about a time he’d mistakenly thought someone wanted his autograph, but they’d really just needed his signature on a receipt; Jisung revealing the weirdest place he’d ever had sex, and Hyunjin drawing a silly, purposely bad picture of one of the others and letting everyone guess who it was supposed to be. Eventually you were asked again.

You picked dare, and when Hyunjin dared you to kiss somebody on the lips with a smirk on his face, you ooh-ed right along with the rest of the group, in too good of a mood to overthink anything right now. You glanced around the room at all the boys, but you wanted this to be as comfortable as possible, so you were really only considering your two closest friends for it. And since you didn’t feel like getting lipstick on you right now, you quickly got up off of Hyunjin’s lap and crossed the circle to kneel in front of Jisung. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he giggled along with you. You made sure to ask if he was okay with this, and when he nodded you could hear Changbin cackling to one side of you and were well aware of Chan grinning on the other. Then, before you knew it, your lips were on Jisung’s and your hands had found their way into his hair.

Maybe it was the alcohol you’d had – you weren’t really drunk, but definitely tipsy. Or maybe it was a momentary lapse in reason, who knew. But all of a sudden you felt like you were experiencing that cliché shit that’s always described in romance novels or seen in cheesy movies. Like… you genuinely could have sworn that time stopped and the world around you melted away for a second. That was how good it was, and you had not been prepared to feel that way. Jisung’s hair was so fluffy, his lips were so soft, he tasted so sweet, and you wanted to deepen the kiss so badly… but it was over before you knew it, because as soon as his fingers found their way onto the small of your back and you felt his tongue lightly brush your lips, it hit you that you were currently being watched by six other pairs of eyes.

And just like that, the world came back into focus and Changbin’s signature high-pitched giggle penetrated your ears. You pulled away from Jisung and looked at him sheepishly – his mouth was still open, cheeks still flushed. Then you made your way back to the other side of the room. You settled on the floor below the armchair this time, between Hyunjin’s legs, wrapping an arm around one of them as if to ground yourself with it. The rest of the group was laughing and wolf-whistling. You made eye contact with a wide-eyed Han Jisung once more before quickly averting your gaze and clearing your throat when Seungmin reminded you that it was your turn.

“Right,” you laughed, trying desperately to play it cool, and quickly asked Seungmin, who picked dare. You dared him to make what he thought Chan’s orgasm face would look like, earning hysterical laughter and cries of outrage (ahem, Jeongin). Chan himself seemed too stunned to react at all. And just like that your mood began to lighten up once more, though you would have been lying if you’d said you weren’t still thinking about the feel of Jisung’s lips on yours and that little ghost of a touch of his hands on your back. It wasn’t like he’d never touched you before – he did it all the time. But this had been different. Now was not the time though, so you willed yourself to focus on the game. Seungmin had just dared Jeongin to greet Minho like one of his cats once said man arrived. And oh. Right. Minho. There was still Minho to think about. Mysterious, sexy Minho, who you had been unable to keep your mind off of for months. Mysterious, sexy Minho, who you had forgotten about for a moment there.

And as if he had known, just then the second oldest of the boys walked through the door. Your stomach did that somersault thing it always did when you saw him. He made eye contact with you as he entered the dorm with an extra six-pack of beers in one hand. Your heart leapt into your throat as you gave him a small wave… and then he was looking down in confusion at a red-faced Jeongin with a kiss mark on his cheek as well as ribbons and clips all over his hair. The maknae was rubbing against Minho’s legs on all fours, eventually even meowing once after the rest of the group begged him to do so. Minho’s confused expression turned into an amused smirk and he bent down to pat the youngest on the head gently. Jeongin blushed and quickly made his way back to his spot on the floor, where he buried his head in his knees. Chan reached over to ruffle his hair and the group’s giggles that seemingly hadn’t stopped all night grew even louder, reverberating around the room.

The game naturally ceased as regular conversation returned. The group caught Minho up to speed on some of what he had missed while he cracked open a beer – though for some reason no one brought up your kiss with Jisung. You certainly weren’t going to. Minho explained that he’d been intending to arrive earlier, but had had a few things to deal with that had been stressing him out. He then declared that he just wanted to relax and catch up on the drinking a little bit, and that was when Felix got that little glimmer in his eyes once more that told you he wanted to play another game – and sure enough, he suggested Never Have I Ever next.

“Come on, we haven’t played this one in ages!” he exclaimed excitedly, looking around the room for approval. Seungmin nodded his agreement as he sat back down on the floor cross-legged; he had just returned from the kitchen with a couple of bowls of chips he placed in the middle for everyone. You quickly grabbed one of them for you and Hyunjin to share. A few of the others agreed enthusiastically as well while reaching for the snacks themselves. You noticed Minho hadn’t reacted to Felix’s suggestion and the younger Australian quickly addressed him. “Come on, hyung, this’ll get you in the party mood!”

Minho had settled beside Jisung by now, the two of them sitting close together at the foot of a sofa, their backs leaning against it, their legs touching. Jisung nudged Minho in the ribs and encouraged him with a playful “Come on, baby!”, which Minho responded to with an eyeroll and a “Fine.” But a crooked little smile graced his lips and Felix clapped happily.

This particular game was one you had never played with the boys before. You were sure there weren’t many secrets between them, so to them it was probably more a game of exposing each other and targeting individuals to drink rather than actually finding out juicy secrets, but you were bound to learn quite a bit about them and them about you. And mostly everyone seemed to be in quite a spicy mood. The questions went to all sorts of raunchy places that had Jeongin shaking his head, from things as comparatively harmless as “Never have I ever gone skinny dipping” to topics such as sexual experiences and even kinks. Occasionally, innocent questions were thrown in by somebody just to keep it light (and keep Jeongin from losing his mind entirely).

Throughout the game you found yourself sneaking glances over to Jisung without initially being aware you were doing it a lot of the time. In fact, your eyes were on him almost as often as they were on Minho right now, though every time you noticed yourself looking in their direction, you tried to stop. But you couldn’t help but feel Jisung’s eyes on you too, and eventually Minho started eyeing both of you, seeming to have picked up on something. He looked mildly irritated, as if he couldn’t figure out what exactly was going on. When his eyes met yours, you quickly averted your gaze again and tried your best to focus on the game that was happening.

Which became easy once Jeongin spoke up with the next question. The question itself wasn’t shocking, especially given the direction the game had already gone in. It was the fact that it had come from the youngest, who claimed not to want to indulge everyone else’s dirty minds, that made it so surprising.

“Never have I ever had a sex dream involving someone in this room,” he grinned, eyes scanning the group as he himself raised his beer to his lips. You looked up at Hyunjin who smirked, taking a sip as well. Changbin couldn’t hold himself back from shouting “It was about me, right? You can tell them it was about me, Hyunjin-ah, it’s okay!”, which got everyone giggling again. You drank too, but avoided looking at anybody else as you did so. Actually, it seemed like everybody in the room had taken a sip at that question.

Seungmin decided to take it a step further when it was his turn next. “Never have I ever fooled around with anybody in this room,” he stated with a deadpan expression, and your eyes widened in anticipation as you looked up from your beer, trying not to make it too obvious that you were most curious as to whether or not Jisung and Minho would drink. You saw that Minho had a hand resting on Jisung’s thigh by this point. And then, sure enough, the two of them raised their beers to take a sip at roughly the same time, even exchanging a tiny little blink-and-you’d-miss-it smile as they did. You also noticed Jisung’s cheeks turning a light pink. You suddenly became very aware of your heart pounding heavily in your chest.

You did notice a couple of other beers being raised in your peripheral vision, including Hyunjin’s right next to you – you were back on the armchair at this point. But to be completely honest, you weren’t paying enough attention to really register who else was drinking. You would definitely kick yourself for this later, but right now you were simply focused on the confirmation of Jisung and Minho’s relationship being (or at least at some point having been) more than platonic – and what knowing that was doing to you.

You weren’t sure at all how to feel about it, especially because at this point in the night you were painfully aware of how badly you wanted to kiss (and do more than that with) not just Minho, but also Jisung again – that second part you really hadn’t planned on. And maybe it was just the alcohol clouding your brain, but it didn’t really feel that way, because you still weren’t really drunk. You were only taking small sips of beer and drinking lots of water in between.

It was so hard to make sense of what you were feeling. You weren’t jealous of the two of them being with each other. You wanted them to enjoy themselves and be happy, and were glad if they could give each other that. The thing was just that you wanted – like, wanted – both of them too. Badly. You couldn’t deny that at this point. And you were afraid that wasn’t ever going to be possible, nor did you want to get in the way of whatever they had going on.

But then again… you remembered the way Jisung had been looking at you, both after the kiss and several times since then. And as you were thinking about it, your eyes drifted to him and… he was doing it again. Looking at you like that. Looking at you like that with his damn fluffy hair and his damn flushed cheeks and his damn kissable freaking lips. Your heart skipped a beat and your gaze flickered over to Minho. And he looked at you too. And then at Jisung. His eyes kept jumping between the two of you, but he had an eyebrow furrowed, as if he was still trying to figure out just what was happening here. You wished you knew yourself. You gulped and tried to clear your mind, turning your attention back to the game that was resuming now that everyone had gotten all the cheering and whistling out of their system in response to the previous question.

Felix informed Minho that it was his turn, so the latter cleared his throat with a little shake of his head before glancing around the room with that devilish little glint in his eyes you’d come to love so much.

“Never have I ever pissed in JYP’s front yard.” This caused the entire room to burst out laughing, several of them clapping as they did. You clearly were missing some kind of inside joke, but it was pretty self-explanatory once Changbin whined out an “I hate you, hyung” and reached across Jisung’s lap to playfully punch Minho in the thigh. Minho shot him an overly exaggerated crazy-eyed death glare in return. Changbin raised his beer to his lips sheepishly and you joined Hyunjin in his full-body laughter that was shaking the entire armchair again as you pictured the scene. Minho looked around the room with a furtive little smile on his face, like he was really proud of himself.

The game went on for a while longer, the conversation and laughter flowed and you focused on just enjoying yourself once more. However, you still couldn’t prevent your eyes from drifting over to the two boys across from you every so often – just like you couldn’t prevent the jolt of electricity that went through your body every time you caught one of them looking at you too.

Eventually the group moved on to other games, more laughter and chatter, and finally the night seemed to be drifting towards an end as Chan began to yawn, earning him lots of teasing comments from the others (but mostly Seungmin) about how old he was. But then the others started getting quieter and more sleepy bit by bit as well, Hyunjin yawning and stretching overly dramatically every so often. You had been sort of keeping your distance from the two boys you couldn’t keep your mind off of, but had still been surreptitiously observing them. They were in a good mood, both still at fairly high energy levels – particularly Jisung, who kept suggesting more games and didn’t seem to want the night to end. You didn’t want it to either. But eventually, when even Felix became very sleepy, even briefly dozing off sprawled out on one of the sofas with his head on Changbin’s lap, the rest of you knew it was time to get going.

Felix and Seungmin hugged each of you goodbye one by one as you left their dorm. The two of them had had to stop Chan from cleaning up around the room and usher him out despite how tired he was. Minho was the last one out the door, and he couldn’t resist slapping each of the hosts on the butt as he left, even giving Seungmin a little squeeze. They shook their heads with a smile as they shut the door behind him. You sighed. It was silent out here.

You did not feel like a journey home in the middle of the night right now. But you knew that if you needed a place to stay, somebody would definitely let you crash. Chan had already told Felix he would be happy to let you stay over (or pay for a taxi if you preferred to go home) when the younger Australian had showed concern, not wanting to let you leave until he knew you’d be safe. Hyunjin was currently loitering close by you as well, an arm protectively around your shoulder, and you knew he’d have no problem offering you his bed either. You’d stayed at his and Changbin’s dorm previously when it had gotten late after you were all hanging out. In fact, that was where you were intending to go tonight again, and were just about to start heading in that direction with them when Jisung spoke up.

“Y/N, do you want to come hang out with us a little longer? Me and Minho-hyung aren’t that tired yet. You can stay over, don’t worry.” Your heart skipped a beat as you looked at him. Did he seem… nervous? You couldn’t tell. You glanced at Minho next, but he was just looking back at you blankly, blinking a couple of times.

You’d never spent a lot of time at their dorm before, despite being quite close with Jisung, mainly because you worried about bothering Minho. But as nervous as the thought made you right now, especially after the way the night had gone, you absolutely wanted to spend more time with the two of them – even if you weren’t sure it was smart, exactly.

“Yeah, okay,” you replied, trying your best not to seem overly eager. You turned into Hyunjin’s arms to give him a quick hug goodbye, then the others as well. Chan patted you on the shoulder before he turned to walk back to his dorm with Jeongin. Changbin and Hyunjin skipped away in the opposite direction arm in arm. And that left you in the dimly lit hallway with Minho, Jisung and a racing heart.

“Well, let’s go then,” Minho said and again, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. You thought there was the slightest ghost of a smile on his lips, but it was dark and he was Minho, so who knew, really. Either way, you followed him as he turned on his heel and headed down the hallway. It was a short walk across the courtyard to their dorm and as you entered the cold night air, a brief shiver went through your body. Jisung put an arm around you, rubbing your shoulder, and the two of you walked the rest of the way like that. It wasn’t far, but it was so silent the entire way that it somehow felt longer than it should have. But you were smiling nonetheless. And you were suddenly quite aware of how good Jisung smelled.

---

Once inside the boys’ dorm, you were wracking your brain trying to think of something to say to break the silence, but you couldn’t come up with anything and you cursed yourself for it. For once you actually sort of wished you were drunker, so you maybe wouldn’t be worrying so much about embarrassing yourself. Although then again, maybe it was good you weren’t, because who knew what you would say if you weren’t thinking clearly. As it was, you were already pretty sober again and the boys didn’t seem particularly drunk either. Jisung was a lightweight, but he usually sobered up fairly quickly and the night air seemed to have helped him along, while Minho could hold his liquor pretty well and hadn’t ended up drinking that much tonight after all. He got each of you a glass of water, which you gratefully accepted, sitting at their kitchen island and tracing the pattern of the granite with your fingertip.

You looked up and noticed Minho quirking an eyebrow at you. You felt your cheeks get a little hot. You needed someone to speak. Now. This was unbearable. Were they feeling the same way you were? Or were they relaxed? Why weren’t they saying anything? Anything, any topic at all, please. You thought about the evening you’d just had, whether there was something you could use to start a conversation. And then you had it. You took a deep breath and put on a smile.

“So Changbin really pissed in JYP’s yard, huh?” This instantly set Jisung off in a fit of hysterical laughter, doubling over and clutching the kitchen counter for support. You breathed a sigh of relief as you continued. “I need to hear the whole story. Please.” And just like that the tension lifted again as the boys recounted the event, you commenting how badly you wished you’d been there in between giggles.

The conversation naturally moved onto other topics from there and things felt right and normal again between all three of you. These were the boys you’d gotten to know as good friends over the past few months and you even began to wonder what you had been so in your head about all night. The three of you chatted about all sorts of things for a little while and eventually you landed on the topic of movies. When you confessed that you’d never actually seen a Deadpool movie, Jisung was so taken aback he suggested you watch the first one instantly.

And so the three of you ended up on Minho’s bed with the movie playing on his big TV screen. You knew he had one in his bedroom because he loved nothing more than to relax watching an anime when he wanted some alone time. The TV was nicer than the one in the living room and the bed was big enough for the three of you to be comfortable, so here you were. Jisung had instantly sprawled out in the middle, insisting he needed cuddles from two of his most favorite people, and you both gladly indulged him – though you did catch Minho rolling his eyes jokingly as Jisung pulled him down and flung his right arm around his shoulders. You settled against his left side, taking in his scent and giggling at the way his hair tickled your forehead. Then you began to watch the movie.

About twenty minutes into it, you felt your stomach growl a little bit. It was around 2 am; not excessively late yet, since the party had begun fairly early, but you did realize that you hadn’t had a proper meal since this afternoon. You hoped no one had heard you, but either Minho had or he was hungry himself, because not long after, be briefly paused the movie and offered to take a quick walk down the street to the boys’ favorite late-night fast food place to grab something for you all, saying he wanted some fresh air anyway. Jisung quickly nodded eagerly and you confessed you were hungry too. You asked Minho if he wanted any company, feeling bad about sending him out by himself at this time of night, but he said he didn’t mind and told you guys to continue watching; he’d seen the movie enough times anyway. And that was how he ended up leaving you two alone in his bedroom… and all of a sudden your mind was right back in the place you had fought so hard to get it out of earlier.

You tried to concentrate on the movie. You really did. But you weren’t catching a damn thing that was happening on the screen. You were overly aware of every single thing about Jisung – his earthy scent you’d decided you really liked; the way his hair was still brushing against your forehead; the way his chest rose and fell with his breathing; the curve of his collarbone under your head. His heartbeat, which you swore was a little quicker than it should have been. You were also overly aware of your own heartbeat, which was definitely quicker than it should have been and seemed much louder than usual. And suddenly you were terrified that he had noticed it too, that he suddenly knew exactly what was going through your mind. You slowly turned your head, hoping to sneak a glance at his expression and gauge the situation. And he was looking right at you. Your heart stopped momentarily and your belly fluttered in the way that had been reserved for Minho and Minho only up until now. You wanted to look away before it got awkward. You wanted to but you couldn’t, because he was looking at you like that again. Like he had been all night. Like… like he wanted to kiss you again.

You licked your lips and swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. His eyes flickered to your mouth. Then back up to your eyes. Then back to your mouth. And then he was kissing you. His hands found your waist. One of yours crept up to caress his jaw while the other instantly tangled itself back into the hair you had been dying to touch again all night. You melted into his embrace.

The kiss was sloppy in the most perfect way, your bodies flush against each other. You could feel every part of him, from his hands that were finally resting properly on the small of your back, to his legs that had become entangled with yours, to his tongue – Jisung’s tongue, your friend Jisung’s tongue – to his hipbones, to his crotch, where you felt something twitching and beginning to grow hard. A small moan escaped you. And all of a sudden this was very real. And you remembered that you were in Lee fucking Minho’s bed. You suddenly pulled back a little bit, chest rising and falling rapidly. Jisung’s eyes found yours again, searching.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you said breathlessly. For a second you forgot what you were going to say as you looked at him – his messed-up hair, his flushed face, his dilated pupils, his glistening mouth that had tasted so sweet. And oh no, he was biting his lip. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” Jisung asked, voice full of concern. You had to tell him. You had to be honest before this went any further. It was too weird for you to be doing this. But wow, you did not want to tell him. Especially not when you could be kissing him instead.

“I… I need to be honest with you about something,” you groaned. This was so embarrassing. Was he going to hate you? Tell you it was messed up to have been kissing him when you were harboring feelings for his best friend? Or was it his boyfriend? His sexual partner? Did it matter? Oh god, you didn’t want to ruin it all. But you couldn’t ignore it.

“What is it, baby?” Oh, now why did he have to call you that? Didn’t he realize he was making this even more difficult for you? His eyebrows were furrowed. “Is everything okay?” And it was too late to back out of the truth now, because he was actually worried, and you weren’t going to leave him feeling that way. The mood was probably already ruined regardless. You averted your gaze.

“I… don’t know if we should be doing this. I kind of… um… have a thing for Minho? Oh god.” You could see the corners of his mouth twitch slightly upwards out of the corner of your eye and felt his gaze on your skin like it was burning you. “Don’t look at me. Ugh. I’m so sorry. It was so weird of me to be all over you like this, I don’t know what got into me, I’ve had a crush on Minho for months and I don’t even know what’s going on between you two – not that you need to tell me, I just don’t want to butt in, I promise I didn’t plan for any of this to happen, oh god this is so fucking embarrassing, I can totally understand if you want me to leave, I can call a cab or maybe Hyunjin is still awake and I can go over there instead, just please tell me we can figure out a way to keep being friends, I…” You trailed off. The silence was deafening. Your cheeks were on fire. Why wasn’t he saying anything? You had to look up at him, didn’t you? You did not want to. You swallowed once. And peeked. He was smiling. Why was he smiling? Was he laughing at you? That would be even worse than you’d feared. You were about to turn your eyes away again when he put a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N.”

“Jisung.”

“Just… take a breath, okay? Everything’s fine.”

“If everything’s fine, why are you laughing at me? Maybe this is amusing to you, but it’s not to me, this is mortifying, I don’t want to lose my friends, I’m so embarrassed right now, I don’t even know what to-”

And all of a sudden you were cut off by his lips again. You quickly pulled back. He moved with you. His eyes were laser focused on your mouth. He looked like he was getting ready to devour you. You wanted to let him so badly.

“Jisung!”

“Y/N!” He was giving you nothing. You groaned. You kissed him. You couldn’t help yourself. You were melting into the kiss again, into him. His tongue was so soft and felt so good in your mouth. Your arms snaked around his waist. His hand made its way to your ass. Your eyes shot open. You detached your lips from his once more and put a little space between your bodies, placing a hand on his chest to ensure the distance was kept this time. You could still feel the heat radiating off of him. It was intoxicating.

“Jisung, we need to focus! Minho will be back any second, this is weird!” You looked at him, trying to convey how serious you were with your eyes, but it was difficult when you were sure you were in just as flustered and flushed a state as he was – and seeing him like that was making it very hard to concentrate. He sighed, but there was still a little smile on his lips.

“Look, Y/N, I wasn’t necessarily expecting it either, but I don’t know, I think I like you.”

“I mean… you were definitely kissing me like you do.”

“Hey!” he exclaimed. “You kissed me first!”

“That’s… true. But in my defense, it was only because Hyunjin dared me.”

“To kiss anybody in the room. Not me specifically.”

“I hate you.”

“I wanted it.” He grinned at you. Your heart skipped a beat.

“But… Minho?” You swallowed uneasily.

“What about him?”

“I just told you I like him.”

“I know.”

“Do you like him?”

“Yeah.”

“Does he like you?”

“Yeah.” He said it so nonchalantly. It drove you crazy.

“Don’t you think this is way too complicated?”

“I think you’re making it a lot more complicated than it needs to be.” You smacked your own forehead at his words.

“Now what on earth does that mean?”

“Look, Y/N, the way I see it, it’s kinda simple. I like Minho, so I kiss Minho. I like you, so I kiss you.”

“But I like Minho.”

“Do you like me?”

“I think so.”

“Then kiss me.”

“I want to, but – stop!” He was moving closer again. “Doesn’t it bother you that I like Minho?”

“No, why? Minho’s great. And beautiful. I totally get it.”

“Well, you said he likes you. And I don’t want to, like… cause any problems.” Jisung smiled at your concern. You did not want his pity.

“Look. I know Minho can come across as kind of… possessive? But trust me. He will not be bothered by us hooking up. The only thing he might be bothered by is if we didn’t offer to include him.” You swore you forgot how to breathe for a moment when you heard those words. Jisung clearly noticed your reaction, because his smile widened considerably. He was enjoying this, wasn’t he? You couldn’t even tell if he was being serious. What on earth had you gotten yourself into?

“Did I just hear you right, Han Jisung?”

“You did.”

“You’re suggesting we hook up… with Minho.”

“I am.”

“You want us to hook up. With Minho. You. And me. And Minho. Yes?”

“Yup.” He clearly noticed you were not processing this at all, so he continued. “Did you think I was just hoping to get in a secret quickie with you before he came back? You know the restaurant’s not that far away, right? He’s already been gone longer than I thought.”

“Were you guys… planning something? Is he, like… expecting to come back to this?”

“Nope. But sometimes things happen. And so you go with the flow, you know?”

“You didn’t talk to him about wanting to have… a threesome… with me tonight? That’s not why you invited me over?”

“Nope. We just wanted to hang out. But now I want to have a threesome. Do you want to?”

“I mean… yes? But, like. Will Minho even want to?”

“We’ll ask him.” He made it sound so simple.

“Does Minho even like me?” You were terrified of the answer.

“Don’t know. I know he thinks you’re really hot, though.”

“He told you that?”

“Lots of times.” Oh. Well, that was that. Your brain had officially stopped working. How were you supposed to process this information? And it was almost scary, the way Jisung seemed to be reading your mind right now, because the next thing he said was: “I want you to stop thinking so much about it all. You don’t need to figure it out.”

“I… don’t?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, good.” His voice had become an almost-whisper as he had inched his way closer to you once more, now taking the hand that had been placed on his chest into his own and intertwining your fingers. You could feel the breath coming from his mouth when he spoke. Something in you wanted to protest more – that part of your brain that was such a seasoned overthinker that it short-circuited whenever something interrupted that process. But Jisung wasn’t going to give you a chance to. And honestly, you were grateful to him for it. And so you gave in to the kiss once more. Fully, this time.

You lost yourself in him, let his hands roam your body, let yours roam his in return, every curve, every bone. You felt his chest contracting against yours with each heavy breath he took. When he detached his mouth from yours you almost whined in protest, until he attached it to your neck instead and you forgot everything, focused only on how good his teeth felt on your sensitive skin, saliva everywhere. Your hands slid under his sweater. His skin was so smooth; you could feel the muscles in his back and stomach tensing as you ran your hands all over them, caressing him, incoherent moans escaping you. He was perfect. And he was so good at this. Why was he so good at this?

“Mmh, Jisung. So… good,” you moaned into his hair and he began sucking on your neck even more aggressively at that. His sweater was slipping off his shoulder and you wanted to get him out of it so badly. Your hands reached for the hem of it, began pulling it up… and just then you heard the sound of a key in the lock. And you froze for a moment. Jisung looked up at you. You made eye contact with him. His eyes were glinting like he knew something you didn’t. Like he was almost sure Minho would be happy to join you. Meanwhile you were terrified once again of Minho coming into his own bedroom, finding you in this state with his Han Jisung, and being absolutely disgusted. But the situation was what it was now. And his steps were coming closer to the bedroom. Your belly did a somersault. And he came through the door.

You had moved away from Jisung a little bit and attempted to smooth your clothes down. Regardless of all that, you knew your neck was a mess, so it was probably pointless to even try to look presentable. But it had been an automatic reaction to try and fix your appearance. Jisung had done no such thing. His hair was all over the place, his sweater was still half off, and there was a very obvious erection straining against his jeans. Not to mention the lust-filled grin that was plastered on his face as he looked at the man that had just come through the doorway.

“Hi, Minho,” he grinned.

“Um, hi guys,” the older of the boys responded and you noticed the corner of his mouth quirk up. You looked away quickly when his gaze met yours, hating the fact that you were so nervous again. “What’s going on here?” He couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice as he reached for the remote to pause the movie that was still running. Both you and Jisung couldn’t stop yourselves from chuckling as you realized it had been on this whole time.

“We, uh… might have gotten a little distracted,” you said sheepishly after your giggles had subsided.

“I can see that.” Minho smirked as he observed the state the two of you were in. “Well, there’s fried chicken in the kitchen, but I’m sure it can be reheated later.” You couldn’t help but giggle again at that deadpan statement.

“Minho-hyung.”

“Yes, Han?” Your heart was pounding as you looked expectantly at the beautiful man standing in the doorway. The man you’d dreamed about so many times. The man whose bed you were currently in… with somebody else. Was this the moment you were finally going to get your hands on him? Was something way beyond what you’d ever dreamed of about to happen?

“Do you want to… join us?” And yes. Jisung had really just said those words. There was no going back now. You swallowed as you awaited Minho’s response. He didn’t say anything at first. But he made his way towards the bed. It sunk as he crawled onto it and took his place on the other side of Jisung once more. Jisung could barely contain himself; he was biting his lip again and his hand was already reaching for Minho’s hip, attempting to pull him closer. But Minho looked at you again first.

“Y/N, are you comfortable with this?” And you could tell he was holding back from pouncing – on someone, anyone, either of you, both of you –, just waiting to make sure this was something you really wanted. And you loved him for it. But if he couldn’t tell by now how badly you wanted him, what with the way your eyes were dripping with lust and your chest was heaving as you stared at him, then you were better at acting than you’d thought.

“God, just get in here, Minho.”

He did not need to be asked twice. He pounced. His lips were on yours in an instant and it was everything you’d ever imagined it to be. He was rough in all the right ways and he tasted even better than you could have dreamed. As you ground into Jisung’s hip, he hoisted Minho’s thigh over his other side, attaching his lips to the older boy’s neck. Then he quickly began to unbutton Minho’s shirt as the two of you continued to make out messily, pausing in between for air and to finally help Jisung out of his sweater as well. You’d never seen the younger of the two quite this excited before and it did things to you that you had no words to describe.

Both of them were so beautiful. Both of them smelled so good. Their scents were all over the room as sweat was already mingling, and you briefly pulled away to take your own shirt off as well. Both pairs of eyes were on you as you did so, and you returned the gaze, looking at their bodies in awe. Jisung had begun unbuttoning his jeans now and Minho reached a hand down to stop him.

“Let me.” The way he said those words sent a shiver down your spine, and suddenly he was pulling you back towards them as well, shoving you down next to Jisung. You began kissing and biting the younger of the two all over his ear, jaw, neck, chest, anywhere you could reach as Minho took his time unbuttoning the man’s jeans and sliding them down his legs excruciatingly slowly, taking his underwear right along with them.

“Don’t be shy now,” Minho said to you as you stopped what you were doing to look at Jisung’s boner that stood against his belly, twitching in arousal, all but begging to be touched. “I’ve had my fun with it plenty of times. You can get us started.” And so you did. You trailed your hand down towards Jisung’s crotch and around the general area first; his lower body bucked upwards when your fingers brushed the inside of his thigh. He let out a small whine, already breathing heavily, cheeks pink, lips slightly parted. And then you were wrapping a hand around his length, giving it a couple of slow pumps, loving the way it felt pulsing under your palm. Jisung groaned, his eyes fluttering back in his head. You caught Minho watching him in awe and thought you might just about die.

You were very aware of your own wetness pooling in your underwear and your pussy twitching, heat coiling in your lower belly. You leant down to place a few excruciatingly soft kisses around Jisung’s crotch and finally on the tip of his cock, before pulling away to start removing your own pants. Minho took the opportunity to attach his mouth to Jisung’s cock and when you heard the moans coming from the younger man, you felt like you couldn’t get your clothes off fast enough. Minho was straddling Jisung’s legs by now and Jisung’s hands were grasping for the other man’s crotch too, attempting to rub him through his pants before awkwardly stretching his body to reach for the buttons and fumbling with them desperately. Minho stopped him, pulling his mouth off of his penis with a pop, then sat up straight and smiled. He kept doing that – smiling like that – and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him when he did. But Jisung’s whine at the loss of contact pulled your attention back to him for a moment.

“Y/N, take over,” Minho ordered, and you took his place eagerly. As you positioned yourself between Jisung’s legs and bent down to take him into your mouth, you felt the bed shift as Minho presumably got undressed… and then you felt his hands begin to roam you from behind. They went all over your body, helping you out of your bra before sliding your underwear off and tossing it to the side. There was so much going on that you luckily only had a brief moment to feel self-conscious as you knew Minho was inspecting your ass and pussy from the back. His hands were kneading your ass cheeks while Jisung was grabbing at your breasts desperately. At the same time you could feel him thrusting up into your mouth and heard his moans quickening… at which point Minho pulled you off of him and flush against his own naked body instead. You gasped at the feel of his erection against your ass and his hands all over your breasts, kneading, pinching. You turned your head slightly to look at his face, panting. He was smiling at Jisung.

“Not yet, baby,” he told him, before pressing several kisses against your shoulder and the crook of your neck that were so soft you almost burst right then and there, your entire body tingling. You arched your back against him, grinding back against his crotch. His chest was slick with sweat against your back. When he looked up from your shoulder, you tried to catch his lips with yours, but he just teased you with an evil grin before flipping you onto your back next to Jisung once more. You turned your head towards Jisung and the two of you looked at each other, completely breathless. A small giggle escaped you which Jisung quickly reciprocated before pressing another sloppy kiss to your lips. You bit and sucked on his bottom lip for a few moments, then turned your head to look up at Minho as Jisung kept kissing and nibbling along your cheek, your neck, your ear. Your eyes trailed up and down the body of the man you’d been lusting over for months. He looked unbelievable, kneeling over you like that. When your eyes met you couldn’t keep yourself from moaning.

You grasped one of his hands, brought his index finger to your mouth and ran your tongue along it before beginning to suck on it, never breaking eye contact with him as you did so. He was watching you intently. You were aching to be touched. He began to lean down, bringing his face impossibly close to yours. You reached for the back of his neck, ready to pull him into a kiss, already feeling his breath on your lips, so eager to taste his mouth once more… but he stopped just short of it again, smirked at you once, then turned his attention to Jisung.

He pulled Jisung’s face off of you before kissing him passionately, deeply, as you could only watch in awe. It was too much.

Your hand found its way to your pussy and you began rubbing your clit while simultaneously spreading your wetness around your folds. You whimpered at the sight of the two of them messily making out, tongues battling as their naked bodies ground against each other. You squeezed your legs together tightly once before pressing a first cautious finger into your pussy, then a second. Your other hand had made its way to your own mouth and you moaned into your palm softly, holding back a little bit. Still, the boys broke their kiss to look at you. It took everything in you not to look away – you were so overwhelmed, so turned on you thought you might burst, so self-conscious but still unable to stop touching yourself at the sight of them.

“I think Y/N needs some attention, hm?” Minho purred at Jisung. “What do you think? Want to put that tongue of yours to good use?” Jisung began grinning again before sliding his body down the bed a little bit, motioning for you to position yourself on top of his face.

“Are you sure?” You asked him, but he was nodding eagerly before you had even finished your question. Minho took you by the wrist, practically forcing you to stop fingering yourself, and helped you position your body above Jisung’s face, slowly lowering you down until your pussy made contact with the younger’s mouth. You moaned loudly as soon as it did, grabbing onto the bed’s headboard to steady yourself as your body arched in response. Jisung put a hand on each hip to steady you, and as he ate you out, Minho began to give the rest of your body attention again. His hands and lips were all over you, squeezing your nipples, kissing you behind your ear and all down your back, making you shiver all over. He lightly slapped your ass cheeks and came back up right next to your ear to ask you in an excruciatingly seductive tone if that was okay for you. You nodded quickly.

“Yeah?” he asked. “That feel good?”

“Mhmmmm,” you moaned back as he slapped you a couple more times.

“What about Jisung? Is he making you feel good?” You could only respond with unintelligible noises as the younger’s tongue penetrated you deeper at the sound of his name.

“M-Minho,” you brought out breathlessly. You were a bit nervous to ask him for anything, but your arousal overrode your embarrassment. “C-can you scratch me?” You panted. “Please?” You swore you could hear the smirk in his voice when he answered.

“You want me to scratch you, kitten?” You nodded, still moaning and holding onto the headboard for dear life, the muscles in your arms flexing. “As you wish, beautiful.” You barely had time to process the fact that he had just called youbeautiful before his nails were on you. All down your back, along your thighs, your hipbones, everywhere. You moaned even louder. Your body was reacting beyond your control, you could feel the tightening sensation in your lower belly growing exponentially and your legs began to shake so that you wondered if you would even be able to remain upright long enough to orgasm.

“You like that, huh?” Minho spoke, and you nodded wildly, still desperately trying to keep your body stable. He kept going, grinding against your ass, scratching you and peppering you with kisses all over your neck and back while Jisung held you steady with a firm grip on your hips. Your thighs were quivering at this point and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. Jisung pulled away for an excruciating moment, placed unbelievably soft kisses on the inside of your thigh, and when his lips and tongue reattached to your pussy once more, it didn’t take long before you went over the edge. Minho had added one of his fingers into the mix, steadily circling your clit with it as Jisung kept eating you out. Your thighs shook uncontrollably as your orgasm washed over you and you let the two of them hold you up as you rode it out, eyes closed in pure bliss until the last of the waves of pleasure had rocked through your body.

Then you slowly lifted yourself off of Jisung with Minho’s help, slumping with your back against the headboard, and looked at the two of them sheepishly. You were well aware your mouth was still open but you were incapable of closing it fully at this point in time. You looked at Minho; he was still wearing that mischievous expression. You looked down at Jisung, who was wiping your juices off of his lips, sucking them off his own fingertips as he made eye contact with you. Then you broke into a smile.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed. The boys laughed. It was silent for a couple of seconds save for the sounds of all your heavy breathing.

“Are you done, baby?” Minho asked from where he knelt in front of you.

“God no,” you responded, earning more chuckles from the two of them. “Just give me a moment.” Your chest was still falling and rising rapidly while your body felt so heavy and sensitive that you didn’t think you could move just yet. “Can you keep yourselves busy for a few minutes?” They both looked at you as if that was a stupid question and instantly were all over each other once more. Jisung grabbed Minho by the hips and pulled him down until he was straddling him. They began to make out desperately, hips grinding against each other, pornographic sounds coming from both of their mouths.

Jisung’s hand found its way between Minho’s legs and when the older of the two broke the kiss briefly to throw his head back, squeeze his eyes tightly shut and let out a strangled moan, you nearly lost it. The veins in his neck were very visible and he had never looked better. No. You most definitely were not done with them yet.

You watched them for a few minutes more, taking in every detail. Jisung’s smooth body, the muscles in his arms tensing up as he had one hand buried in Minho’s crotch, the other wrapped around his ass to hold him down against him. Minho’s thighs on either side of him. God, those thighs. You were feeling your own arousal begin to build quickly again and cautiously reached down to touch yourself once more, slowly letting yourself get accustomed to the sensation again without overwhelming your still very sensitive body.

You ached to taste Minho again, to shove your tongue in his mouth, to get your hands on him, on his dick which you had yet to have your fun with. You began crawling towards him, reached a hand into his hair, gently turned his head in your direction. His half-lidded eyes met yours and there was that smile again. You tried to pull his face towards you, but just before his lips met yours, he moved them to your neck instead. You groaned.

“What’s- ah! What’s wrong, kitten?” he brought out breathlessly in between moans as Jisung kept pumping his hand up and down his cock. You looked down at it until Minho used his spare hand that wasn’t currently clutching onto Jisung’s shoulder to pull your face back up by your chin and force you to look into his eyes. “What do you need?” As he said that, he trailed his hand down your front until he reached your pussy, where he began slowly circling your clit once more with two of his fingers.

“Mmh- Minho, oh god.” A shiver went through you and you closed your eyes to let the sensation fully wash over you. He was using just the right amount of pressure as he rubbed excruciatingly slow circles over your clit and you forgot everything else for a moment.

“Tell me, kitten,” he huffed out.

“M-Minho… need… you,” you panted. Your hips were bucking in his direction every time he completed a circle and you wanted to feel him inside of you immediately. “P-please. Just fuck me.” You opened your eyes to look at him again. He had reached his other hand down to stop Jisung jerking him off and caressed the younger man’s hand gently before reaching past him to the bedside table, where he retrieved a condom from the top drawer. He looked down at his roommate lovingly, then back up at you.

“Jisung’s been waiting a little longer than me. Don’t you think we should let him go first?” You looked at Jisung and his eyes were so wide, so full of desire. Minho didn’t even wait for your response before he unwrapped the condom and began to slowly pull it down over Jisung’s cock, which you noticed was twitching and already dripping precum. You felt your mouth begin to water, despite the devastating loss of Minho’s fingers on your clit. When he had finished putting the condom on the younger man, he moved to lay down next to him again. “What do you think, Jisungie?” Minho asked him, running a finger down his stomach, trailing it between his legs, grazing his cock, causing Jisung’s hips to jerk upwards.

“Mmh… Y/N. Can I? Can I f-fuck you?” He was panting. He looked incredible. You nodded and moved to straddle him. Who were you to turn him down?

“God, please,” you breathed out, but just before you could settle on top of him, he grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over so you were on your back beneath him instead. Your head hit the pillow and you glanced to the side to make eye contact with Minho for a moment. He was licking his lips and moved to stroke your cheek with his hand. You leaned in towards him, but he gently pushed your face back to look at Jisung instead. You complied, your initial frustration forgotten quickly as your eyes settled on the younger of the two who was now towering over you. He had reached up to push a hand through his hair and the muscles in his arm flexed tantalizingly as he did so.

You reached your hands up to run them over his chest and stomach, feeling every breath that he took. His skin was hot and slick with sweat and you reached up to his neck to pull his face down to meet you. His mouth was on yours in an instant, his tongue pushing into your mouth eagerly. Your breath was already quickening from the exhilaration of the kiss alone. When you felt his hand reach down to grasp himself and slowly begin to position his cock at your entrance, it sped up even more in anticipation. You reached your own hand down to spread yourself for him.

He slowly pushed into you and each little bit further he went sent new waves of pleasure radiating out from your stomach through your entire body. He already felt so good and he had barely even begun.

“Mmh… feel so good, baby…” he groaned as if he was reading your mind again, eyes closed, mouth open as he continued pushing into you until he bottomed out. Then, slowly at first, he began to thrust.

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t contain your moans. “Jisung!” His hands were on either side of your head now, grasping the pillow for support. Yours were on his ass, pulling him closer, pushing him deeper into you as you slid your hips up and wrapped your legs around his back to find just the right angle. You closed your eyes for a moment, just feeling him, the indescribable sensations going through your body. Both your voices filled the room in time with his thrusts as he settled into a rhythm.

You heard Minho groaning next to you too and when you turned your head to look at him once more, you saw he was slowly stroking his own cock while looking at the two of you. Knowing he was getting off on watching you both amplified your pleasure tenfold and you didn’t even know where to look at this point. You wanted to see both of them. But Jisung enclosed your mouth in yet another desperate kiss, taking the decision off your hands as he continued to thrust into you, though you could already feel his movements speeding up and becoming slightly more erratic as he whined into your mouth in pleasure.

You bucked your hips up to meet his movements and help him keep the pace. He pressed his forehead against yours as he moaned your name against your mouth. You reached one of your hands up to push his sweaty hair out of his eyes. He grabbed your hand with his own and intertwined your fingers against the pillow next to your head. You felt Minho begin to place soft kisses all over both of your hands as he continued to writhe against the sheets next to you, still stroking himself agonizingly slowly. You could see his chest rise and fall out of the corner of your eye.

Meanwhile Jisung’s movements were becoming even more frantic. His hand was still on yours, squeezing tight, but he buried his face in your neck again, allowing your skin to swallow up the sounds still coming from his mouth.

“Mm- so close, baby,” you felt him groan out, the vibrations from his lips shooting through your entire body. “So… close…” He turned his head to meet Minho’s face in a hungry kiss, then looked back at you, the veins in his neck popping out, jaw clenched from how hard he was trying not to cum right now. Yet he didn’t slow his movements down.

“Let go, baby,” you whispered, squeezing his ass hard with the hand that was still resting there. And that was all it took. With a few final big thrusts, you felt his cock pulse inside you as he hit his climax, until his movements gradually slowed down. He was panting against your neck again, still holding onto your hand for the final few sporadic, lazy thrusts before he pressed one more kiss to your neck, then came back up to your face to attach his lips to yours again for a moment. Finally he pulled himself out of you, collapsing next to you and trying to catch his breath. You grinned at him and stroked his cheek affectionately. He laid there with his eyes closed for a few moments more before blinking them open and looking at you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen so fast!”

“It’s- oh! It’s o-kay… mmh…” Minho’s hand had latched onto your pussy so fast you barely had time to register it as the sensation overwhelmed your body. You reached down to stop its movements before you completely lost your mind again. “I still have this one to get through, after all.” You cocked your head in Minho’s direction and grinned at Jisung, who was wiping sweat off his forehead, where his hair had started to curl slightly. Minho had moved his attention to your breasts, kissing them, then between them, then your belly, then your hipbones.

“Still sorry,” Jisung panted. “I wanted to make you cum.” He pouted a little bit.

“You already did, remember?” He smiled at that.

“Don’t worry, Jisungie, you can still help,” Minho purred, looking up at him. “Do you need more of a break?” he asked you, and when you instantly shook your head he chuckled a little bit before retrieving another condom from the bedside table, sitting up to slide it over his own dick this time. You watched, entranced, until he lifted your face up by the chin with a finger and smirked at you in that way he always did again. You swore you could have cum just from that. He reached down between your legs once more and you could feel yourself trying to squeeze your thighs shut against your control as the sensations threatened to overwhelm you.

“Minho,” you warned him, breathing heavily. “Not like this. Need you inside me.” He complied, removing his hand from your pussy and rubbing it over your thigh once instead before leaning down to press a kiss to your hipbone again and nip at it a couple of times.

“Where do you want me, baby?” he asked as a shiver went through your body. You took a moment to ponder.

“Lay down,” you decided. “Want to ride you.” He complied.

As his head hit the pillow, Jisung began to kiss and nip at his upper body while you positioned yourself on top of him. His hands quickly gripped your thighs tightly, nails digging into them as you took his cock into your hand, loving the way it felt, and gave it a couple of strokes, which it responded to as if it had a mind of its own. Your other hand reached for your pussy to spread it again and rub your wetness around a little more before positioning Minho’s cock at your entrance.

Then, ever so slowly, you began to lower yourself onto it. A guttural moan came from deep inside Minho’s chest as he shut his eyes for a moment. Now it was your turn to smirk as you slowly took him all the way inside of you before beginning to slide up and down on his cock. He looked even hotter beneath you than you’d ever imagined, than you’d ever thought possible. When he opened his eyes again and looked at you, the eye contact while feeling him inside of you nearly drove you insane.

Jisung was currently squeezing Minho’s bicep while sucking on his neck. You leant down, hoping to kiss Minho while still keeping your hips moving up and down steadily. Just before your mouths connected, he placed his hand at your lips and shoved his finger back in your mouth instead. You were going to go crazy if he didn’t kiss you soon. You hated it. You loved it. It only made you hungrier for him. You sucked and bit at his finger eagerly, relished in his grunts, then sat back up straighter, throwing your head back.

You were starting to get tired but you could not stop going, feeling your pleasure building and building, even more so when Minho began scratching you again, on your back, your thighs, your hips. You arched your back, shut your eyes, moaned his name. He kept his hands on your hips now and slowly his grip began to tighten, holding you down until you couldn’t move anymore. Then he pulled himself up until he had his arms around you tightly and his face at your breasts, kissing them, sucking on your nipples one after the other, licking a stripe up your neck. Then he was lifting you off of him.

“Turn around,” he instructed. “On your knees. Jisungie, you want to help?” The younger nodded excitedly. “Good. Get below them. You can help keep them steady.” Jisung complied. You were straddling his thighs again as Minho gently pushed you down so you were on all fours, hands on either side of Jisung’s head, faces dangerously close together. Then Minho positioned himself behind you again, this time lining himself up with your entrance, asking if you were ready and slowly pushing his cock inside of you once more when you told him you were.

The moan that left your body was the loudest one yet as he bottomed out inside of you, instantly hitting a very deep angle. Jisung swallowed your sounds up hungrily, mouth all over yours. Then Minho grabbed both of your wrists and held them behind your back. Your upper body slid down a little until your face was on Jisung’s chest and all three of you rocked along with the entire bed as Minho thrust into you steadily. Jisung’s hands moved from your hips, where he had been holding you in place, to your breasts and began to play with them while you moaned into his burning skin. You were sure the two men were looking at each other over your head and just the thought of that turned you on even further, if that was possible.

Minho held your wrists in place with only one hand as the other scratched down your back slowly once, causing a shiver and eliciting more moans, before he used it to repeatedly slap and knead your ass in time with his thrusts. One of Jisung’s hands reached down to your clit and you knew you were going to be done for very soon.

You were trying to moan out names – either of theirs, both of theirs. You were trying to say “theretherethere ohgod right there”, you were trying to say “fasterharderpleaseohfuck” – but what came out of your mouth was fully incoherent at this point. It didn’t seem to matter, because Minho was clearly on the same wavelength as you. You were aware of his grunts and groans growing more frequent, you were aware of his hips smacking against your ass faster and faster as he fucked you harder, deeper, hitting just the right spot over and over, and you were aware of your pleasure building and building until it felt almost impossible to bear.

“Gonna… cum…” you managed to groan out against Jisung’s sweaty skin, and just before you did, Minho pulled your body back up against his. His movements slowed again for a brief moment, and then he was turning your face towards his and before you could process what was happening, his lips finally consumed yours – deeply, intimately, passionately. When his thrusts sped up again your climax hit you so fast and hard you almost bit down on his tongue, nearly screaming into his mouth as your pussy clenched around him, wave after wave of pleasure tumbling through your trembling body. When it finally started to slow down and your soul reentered your body, you were so grateful for Jisung holding onto your thighs below you, because you might have fallen over otherwise.

“Almost… there…” Minho groaned against your mouth. “Hold… on… baby.” Your hands curled into fists as you steadied yourself against Jisung’s chest, focusing on how hot Minho sounded when he was desperate like this, knowing you would let him fuck you for as long as he needed no matter how much it took out of you. But he came not long after with a shaky moan, hands holding your hips in place as he rutted into you frantically, then slower, slower, until he stopped. His forehead rested against yours. You both stayed like that for a moment, eyes closed. Then he kissed you once more, so softly this time, before pulling out of you, smoothing your hair down gently with one hand.

You collapsed half-on top of Jisung and he chuckled into your hair, pressing soft kisses to your temples and the top of your head. You felt Minho’s lips ghost against the scratches on your back once, twice, three times before he collapsed next to the two of you as well, resting his head against Jisung’s shoulder.

There was silence for a little bit. You felt so heavy, in the best way. The world around you seemed muted, like everything had been dipped into candlelight – not just your vision but your hearing as well, the sounds of the boys’ breathing muffled as the blood rushing through your head finally started to slow down.

Jisung rested a hand on your back and you were so sensitive to the touch you almost jerked away from it, but once you got used to it, it felt so good, grounding you. His naked body beneath yours was warm and comfortable. You slowly fluttered your eyes open again and looked at Minho across from you. You reached out to touch his face, caress his cheek gently, then turned your face down to Jisung’s chest to press a kiss to it. Then you rolled onto your back, legs still intertwined with Jisung’s, and looked up at the ceiling. Just like before when you guys had first entered the dorm, you were the one to break the silence, but this time it wasn’t awkward.

“Wow.” A single word. And all three of you huffed out little laughs, looked at each other – and you had never been happier, never felt more blissful, more relaxed, more at home. You couldn’t have wiped the smile off your face even if you’d wanted to. After another moment you spoke again. “Um, we might need to try watching that movie again another time.” The sound of the boys’ soft laughter filled your heart with joy and your stomach fluttered again. You loved the way it felt this time.

“You’re both so fucking hot,” Jisung said out of the blue and you and Minho both grinned.

“You’re fucking hot, baby,” Minho told him in return and you could only nod your enthusiastic agreement.

After a little more comfortable silence, Jisung slowly began to shift you both off of him, announcing he wanted to take a quick shower. He asked if anyone else wanted to but you informed him you couldn’t stand just yet and Minho agreed with you, so once Jisung had left, he pulled you into his arms instead. His skin felt so good against yours, so comforting. He played with your hair as you listened to the sounds of the water hitting the tiles in the shower and after a while Minho mumbled “You really are beautiful” against the skin of your temple. You turned your head up to kiss him and he reciprocated with no hesitation. There was none of the urgency from before and it was incredible in its own way, soft and sweet and perfect.

After another little while you became vaguely aware of the sound of a hairdryer at the edges of your drifting consciousness, and by the time Jisung returned you both were half asleep already, Minho’s arms tight around your middle as he spooned you from behind. You were aware of Jisung turning the TV off before he crept into the bed beside you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered open once, met his and you both smiled before he reached over to the nightstand to turn out the light and settle down on his back. You laid your head against his chest, inhaled him deeply, draped an arm across his stomach and let his heartbeat lull you to sleep. It didn’t take long.

---

When you woke up the next day to daylight cautiously peeking in through a gap in the curtain, still very much tangled up in both Minho and Jisung’s bodies, you panicked for a second. But laying here with them was so soothing that you didn’t let yourself think about your worries for long, instead listening to their deep, steady breathing and letting their scents envelop you.

It wasn’t too long until they began to stir as well, blinking their eyes open not long after each other. And the way they both smiled when they took in where they were and who they were with told you everything you needed to know: this had not been a mistake. And it also would not be the end of it. If their gentle, content expressions hadn’t been enough to convince you of that, the way they softly greeted you and each other and the lazy kisses and cuddles that ensued certainly were, as well as the rest of the slow morning (or, well, afternoon) you spent together. You took your time cuddling, chatting, getting ready, eating some breakfast that Minho prepared for you all.

You didn’t talk about the situation in depth yet, but you felt no rush to. In fact, for once in your life, you didn’t want to try and rationalize or understand everything. The only thing you all did confirm was that you had enjoyed yourselves immensely and wanted to spend a lot more time together – and that was enough for now.

When you ran into Felix on your way home that afternoon, you still hadn’t been able to wipe the smile off your face that you’d been wearing all day. You stopped to chat for a few moments and you could tell he wanted to ask, but you also figured from the way his eyes were twinkling that he maybe already had an idea. Either way, you told him you’d catch up with him and the others again later – that you wanted to go home and freshen up and take a little time to yourself for now. But just before you left, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and grinned at him.

“Great party, Lix.”

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agnireed · 4 months ago

Text

IN THE DARK

summary 🏹 you end up with daryl after the fall of the prison and the isolation starts making you see the older man differently

word count 🏹 6.7k

warnings 🏹 large age gap (reader is 21), daryl is very conflicted in his feelings, using sex to cope with grief, non descriptive smut, daryl doesnt talk much

the blazing campfire was doing very little to thaw the complete icy cold your heart was currently struggling with.

you’d never felt a loss as substantial as this, something so monumental that you couldn’t even process it’s reality. there was no chance you were going to be able to fathom the grief you were carrying now that the prison had fallen along with the majority of your group, now and possibly forever.

your only reminder of what you once had was currently sitting across from you, eyes pointed down at the dirt instead of the fire that was painting his tan skin a deep and earthy shade of orange.

daryl hadn’t spoken a word since you had ran from the prison together and you’d almost grown concerned about the state of your hearing until you finally settled down and focused in on the crackling of the flames and the chirping of the bugs around you.

you had nearly missed him in the initial chaos, running any direction your body carried you without rhyme or reason, simply attempting to flee from the sounds of gunfire and the building roar of walkers. you’d barely made it into the tree line outside the gates when you heard heavy footsteps behind you, spinning around with your knife up only to drop it completely when you saw his concerned face.

he had spared a pained look back at the burning prison before approaching you and wrapping a hand tightly around your wrist, giving you a grunt that let you know it was time to go.

that was the last noise you’d heard him make and the silence was starting to drive you crazy now.

you kept watching him with the same heavy gaze and you didn’t falter even when he was finally looking away from the floor and making eye contact with you. his body locked up even though he could already feel you watching him before he confirmed it and you cocked your head curiously.

daryl hadn’t been somebody you’d put much thought to until this exact moment where he was potentially the last person on earth.

he’d been in the group before you and he was there when rick found you, standing just a few paces behind him with his crossbow permanently drawn and aimed at you like you were a threat with your shaking knees and carved broomstick.

it had made slightly more sense when you were brought back to the small house they were temporarily shacked up in and greeted by the sight of a largely pregnant woman and a small child standing in the doorway.

you didn’t take his precaution personally and it wasn’t long before you were joining the group and finding the prison together, the trauma of clearing it and losing people in the process finishing off the bonding you all needed to be able to trust each other.

he was always somewhere off in the distance watching as people had hushed conversations or heavy glances passed through the hallways, eyes observing and seemingly waiting for something that you weren’t sure of. you’d heard from carol bits and pieces about his past and you quickly learned how skilled he was in numerous areas that you couldn’t begin to understand but your knowledge didn’t go far past that.

you imagined he felt similarly about you and you were more accurate than you even realized.

daryl was aware that you were quick on your feet and silent in a way that even he feared occasionally. sometimes you’d appear behind him or other members of the group and the sudden sound of your voice would almost make him jump.

you had the same youthfulness that beth and maggie carried but the similarities between you stopped there, something much heavier weighing down your shoulders than the sisters could relate to.

he was looking away from you again and you wondered if he was thinking about the same thing you were right now, pondering over how ridiculous it was that you two were paired up out of everybody inside those walls.

on one hand you were extremely grateful to be in the company of somebody that could undoubtedly handle himself but then there was the silence.

the silence was the exact thing that was driving you to stand up from the warmth of the fire and sigh softly before turning on your heels and venturing off into the darkness of the woods around you.

you knew it wasn’t the best idea to go wandering around in the dark so close to where the flames of the prison were still raging and drawing swarms of walkers but you could almost feel the grief taking over any sense and rational left inside you. you felt dead already and there was only a slight warmth going through your blood when you heard the sounds of daryl stomping out the fire behind you.

it was easier to hear him like this, back pressed against a tree as he tried his best to track you in the dark.

you could hear occasional twigs snapping under his heavy weight and ever so often your ears caught a frustrated grunt as he struggled to find you. the human sounds were almost addicting after the prolonged mute period he was presenting you and you held your breath when you heard him nearing you finally.

it must’ve been impossible by now to locate you but you figured somebody as experienced as daryl could atleast tell that you were still nearby, even if it was as simple as feeling your presence.

you’d managed to stay still long enough that your eyes adjusted to the dark just the right amount to be able to make out his frame passing you, shoulders wide and sturdy as he froze in place and looked around frantically again.

you could see the way his chest was rising and falling with trembling breaths, undoubtedly feeling some sort of fear from how shaky his inhale sounded. you knew he wasn’t fearful of his own fate and your head cocked at the idea he was potentially afraid to have lost you.

there was a slight lapse of judgement on your part as you took an instinctive step towards him and although your foot made no outward noise, his head snapped up and in your direction. you wondered if he could see you there now, pressed against the tree and starting to meet his heavy inhales.

neither of you spoke still but then he was turning around fully and walking towards you again, seconds from passing you once more before your hand was reaching out and wrapping around his elbow.

he flinched at the sudden contact but his body lost most of the tension when he realized the hand on his skin was warm and very much alive, understanding it was you before he could even see you.

he took a step sideways and now he was standing in front of you, chest still heaving but now you could tell it was from a much different emotion. he was furious with you for disappearing and yet he still hadn’t said a word, not even about the fact your hand was still touching his arm.

you could see his face clearly now and you were sure the same was true for him, gaze looking over the part in your lips as you took small breaths and the way your eyes seemed wider than normal as you stared up at him.

you’d never been this close to the older man before and you certainly hadn’t touched him outside of the occasionally helping hand up or light grip while riding on the back of his motorcycle. your hold on his arm had turned into your fingers slowly moving up and down in a soothing manner, head cocking again as you waited for him to pull away from you.

he didn’t but you could almost see the struggle in his eyes, locked onto yours almost unintentionally like he just couldn’t bring himself to look away.

your hand smoothed it’s way up his arm even further, taking a few seconds to squeeze and rub at the tensing muscles of his bicep. you were suddenly reminded of his strength, something that was easy enough to ignore when you were able to chalk it up to being a young girl with hormones that didn’t have a place to go.

it was simple enough to be entranced by the sight of him digging graves or working on his bike in those sleeveless shirts he was so fond of, an older man already gruff to the world long before it had fallen apart.

you were able to feel little guilt for staring longer than you probably should have, always fixing your gaze back to where it was supposed to be as you busied yourself with the task for the day or just quick enough to avoid getting caught watching him by somebody else.

it was strikingly obvious now that there was no more distractions and certainly nobody who would be able to judge you.

you could feel his eyes still on your face even though yours was locked on the sight of your hand wrapping around his arm, letting it remain there for a few seconds longer before you were moving it up to his hair. he finally released a sound at this and the low grunt that fell from his lips lit up a heat in you that felt almost dangerous.

every part of you was suddenly screaming that you needed to do whatever possible to keep that heat growing higher and higher, pushing it until it was hopefully reaching the painful ice that had completely taken over your heart.

he was tenser now but not enough that he could stop you from softly pulling his head down towards your shoulder, feeling his hair touch your skin at the same moment you were turning and whispering into his ear. the desperation caused you to speak despite the overwhelming risk that he would leave you there alone with the dying heat as soon as he remembered who he was in the dark with.

“you can touch me too” your voice was so quiet that you almost didnt hear it but you knew he had judging by the way his entire body locked up at the way you practically purred.

you let him lift his head just enough that he could look into your eyes again and you felt another surge of panic at the hesitation his face held, your free hand immediately landing on his chest and rubbing downwards on his stomach to try and distract him from the obvious issue with what you had just said.

another thing you had learned about daryl since meeting him was that he was a good man.

rude and abrasive were the easiest words to describe him but it was undeniable that he was one of the best hearts your group could offer. he was devoted and loyal and there was very little he wouldnt do for the people he cared about.

all this had been something you admired a few months ago but now you were overwhelmingly frustrated by just how good he was proving to be. you could think of many men that would kill to be in the postion he was in now, alone in the dark with a young girl who was clearly longing to feel just about anything.

it made your nose automatically scrunch up to imagine any of those men here with you now instead of him and he mustve misread your sudden expression because you could feel him going to pull away from you, a panicked breath leaving your lips as you tugged him back harder than you had meant to.

your back was hitting the tree harshly and you barely had time to wince at the bark cutting into your shirt before he was falling into you, clearly unintentional. he froze up again when he heard the gasp you let out at the feeling of his chest pressing against yours and your hand in his hair tightened automatically.

he surprised you by not pulling away or distancing himself and you met his gaze again, giving him an encouraging nod as you gently tugged at his arm in an attempt to pull it away from his side. he gave in to your small nudges but still didnt touch you like you were longing for, instead just watching you as you let out soft whines and tried to get his hand to rest against you in any way.

“please.” it was the softest plea you could muster and the sound went directly to his defense, crumbling it almost completly as your wide eyes started to tear up. he was completely baffled that you were being brought to tears from how needy you were, desperate to be touched by him to the point that you were nearly forcing it.

finally he was caving in just enough to attempt to calm you down and you let out a shaky breath when his hand was landing on your side, feeling the dip of your waist and averting his gaze from yours now that he was responding to your advances.

your mouth parted again when he was squeezing your side almost absentmindely, massaging the soft flesh and letting out a low noise from the back of his throat when you tugged him impossibly closer. he was tightly pressed into you now and you could feel his entire body encaging yours against the tree, legs shifting to allow him more access to slot himself between them.

your hand was nearing frantic as you gripped his wrist and forced him to touch you more, sliding it over your lower back and angling yourself until it was touching your ass. he tensed up again but the high pitched whine you let out was almost enough for him to forget the issue at hand, worsening when your head was landing on his shoulder and your hands were gripping his upper arms like you were losing your balance over a simple touch.

he couldnt help himself now, it was simple human curiosity that led him to squeeze your ass in his first direct move. the action pulled you against him even more and slightly lifted you off the ground from the accidental force of it, another grope instinctively following when he felt your heavy breath against his neck and the way you shivered.

your hips were moving in small waves now, one of your hands back in his hair so you could force his gaze to meet yours again.

he seemed so cold as he watched you and the lack of emotion on his face did nothing but light the fire in you even more as a new desire to make him feel good emerged, his hand still gripping your ass while the other settled smoothly on your waist.

your shirt had ridden up as it got stuck against the tree bark and you felt the rough skin of his thumb smooth over your bare side, a cry leaving you at the feeling. he automatically shushed you and it was the closest you’d came to hearing his low voice in days, eyes watering as you nodded obediently and bit your lip in an attempt to stay quiet.

he was fully groping you now and your hips were rocking against him at a pace that was stealing the breath from your lungs, even more so when you were lifting your leg and resting it against his waist easily.

his core was pressing against yours and even though he wasn’t moving, he wasn’t stopping you either. you were practically using him for your pleasure and the thought made you cry out again.

this time he didn’t have to shush you because you were using your grip in his hair to pull his mouth to yours, whining as soon as your lips connected. he tensed up but you almost sobbed at the idea of him not responding to your advances and thankfully he did.

his mouth moving against yours was more intense than anything else you’d done and now the whines were impossible to hold back, forgetting about the loss you were feeling or the fact you were completely exposed to the world around you.

any potential danger wasn’t on your mind anymore and all that mattered was that you weren’t alone and you were still alive, heat fully building now as you kissed daryl and relished the feeling of his hands on you.

then it was gone as quickly as it came and you felt yourself completely ice over when he was suddenly gone, head so dizzy you almost thought he just completely vanished before you realized he had just stumbled backwards into the dark in front of you.

you knew he hadn’t left you, both because he would never do something like that and also because you could hear his raspy breaths a few feet away.

there was no confusion flooding through you because you knew exactly why he had stopped kissing you, the same reason he was currently storming off back towards where your abandoned fire was still dying out.

you waited a few seconds before you followed him, just long enough that you could still hear his footsteps without risk of ending up anywhere near him.

you weren’t stupid and you understood the mistake you had just made, especially with somebody as testy as daryl. you’d seen the way he locked up whenever carol rested her hand on his shoulder and it was obvious that he considered everyone he met a threat until given valid reason not to.

and then there was the issue of him being a good man.

daryl may come from a bloodline of men who would have no issue pressing a girl over twice their age younger than them against a tree but he wasn’t proud of that gene pool and he wasn’t going to start joining them now.

you felt guilty as you watched him from the tree line, throwing the half burnt logs roughly back onto the ashes with his face turned up in frustration and possible disgust. you didn’t join him even when the flames were back and a cold shutter was running over you, staying there in the shadows and longing for another warmth.

——

any hope of daryl choosing to forget about what happened and act normal was quickly lost when he woke you up by tossing a few loose rocks in your direction.

you had jumped awake and frantically searched your surroundings for any threat, freezing when your eyes landed on him standing there and glaring at you. he had looked the exact same since the fall of the prison but his shoulders were rigid with something else now.

you weren’t at all shocked by the fact that he hadn’t left you there, still feeling assured in knowing he wouldn’t do that to you no matter how upset he was with you.

he stood there, frozen in place, as you quickly gathered your little belongings into the small backpack you’d managed to grab during the chaos. there was an air of impatience around him that you didn’t want to test so you went as fast as you could and looked at him expectantly when you finished.

there was no mention to where you were going and you didn’t bother asking any questions, following him back into the woods blindly.

daryl walked for hours with no rest and you used all of your willpower to avoid requesting a break, keeping your exhausted pants and breaths for air as quiet as you could. he never once glanced back to make sure you were keeping up and there was periods of time where you almost lost him due to the distance between you.

at first you thought you were somehow managing to catch up every time but you quickly realized that he was stopping to wait for you.

the guilt you had felt was subsiding now as you assumed he was punishing you. you glared daggers into his back and started to purposely take your time, dragging your feet over noisy piles of leaves and sending decayed logs sprawling across the forest floor.

it took him a few hours to start sending glares back in your direction once he pieced together that your clumsy actions were clearly intentional. you both were furious with the other without really knowing why and the heavy emotion partnered with exhaustion was getting to you quicker than you realized.

“damnit girl pick up your feet.” his voice ripping through the forest completely threw you off your pace and you genuinely nearly tripped over a loose branch. straightening up just in time to see his concerned expression snap back into a glare.

“maybe if we took a break i could.” you were quick to argue back like the fact this was your first conversation in days wasn’t clouding your mind and he scoffed at your excuse.

daryl knew you well enough to know you weren’t the type to be clumsy when you were tired and that the crease in your eyebrows wasn’t a common sight. he was finding it hard to think of a rebuttal that wouldn’t reveal that level of familiarity and he settled on a mean scoff.

“do you even know where we are going?” your hands were thrown out from your sides in frustration and he watched you as you let out a humorless laugh. “is this your entire plan? walk ourselves to death?”

the jabs may have been just your anger spewing out whatever you could think but it was hitting him somewhere he didn’t know you could access. it wasn’t lost on him that you were looking to him now the same way everyone looked towards rick, although one life was way less of a responsibility than what the sheriff had taken on.

although he was beginning to question if that was true.

his lack of answer seemed to annoy you further and you wish you could’ve stopped yourself from talking but the embarrassment from his rejection and overall exhaustion was clearly affecting your impulse control.

“if you’re going to bore me to death at least let me get a drink first.” your tone was so harsh that he almost didn’t recognize it and his lip turned up in a snarl.

“ain’t even old enough to drink.” he was mumbling and turning to continue his mindless walk into the trees but you were quick with your reply.

“you know damn well how old i am daryl.” your sentence was harmless enough but the way you said it made his skin crawl, heavy implication that he had put thought into your young age.

you were embarrassed as soon as you said it especially since as far as you were aware, it wasn’t true. you had no knowledge to the fact that daryl had spent countless nights thinking about your age and wondering if you thought about him that way too. he had caught you staring a few times and watched a little harder next time you were in the room, lingered a little longer to try and gauge your thoughts.

you were a completely mystery to him and now it felt like he was an open book to you.

did you really know how hard it was for him to be around somebody as tempting as you? was it that obvious that guilt was eating him alive for even considering a world where you’d want him as badly as he did you?

his body was frozen in place as your words hit him harshly and you were so focused on your own humiliation that you didn’t even consider his strange reaction.

“look can we just…” your voice was breaking and trailing off in a pathetic way that only furthered your embarrassment and you sighed. “can you look at me?”

at first you thought that he might ignore you all together, actually wondering if he’d just stand there like that until you gave up and wandered away to find your eventual death. you let out a breath of relief when he was turning halfway to glance at you and the conflicted look on his face was different than the anger you had expected.

“im sorry that i made you feel weird but you’re the only person i have left.” you were talking without thinking and it was the first time he heard you sound so unsure of yourself, shifting in place restlessly. “i really don’t want to fight with you.”

he didn’t say anything for a long time but the fact he hadn’t immediately gotten defensive was enough for you to feel a little relief and it was only furthered by the small head nod he gave you.

“better move. suns setting.”

——

you hadn’t noticed the sky turning into a pale orange when he had mentioned it but he was as accurate as always and in less than an hour there was a dark haze obscuring your vision again.

this time daryl was more proactive and it turns out he did actually have a plan and he wasn’t just walking in circles, leading you through the woods until you were reaching a small town that was more accurately just a few run down shops and a bar.

the place looked properly picked over but daryl wasn’t stopping and looking in any of the windows or broken down cars, clearly more focused on settling down for the night rather than finding stuff to take along with you.

you almost laughed when he was leading you towards the bar at the end of the street, almost forgetting what you had said about wanting a drink to cure your boredom.

you knew there wouldn’t be anything left over on the inside but the irony was still apparent as you climbed up onto a stool and tapped impatiently on the bar top. daryl was somewhere behind you, messing around with the door locks and pulling tables in front of it to block the entrance.

you looked over your shoulder to see him glancing at you, possibly half amused at the way you rolled your eyes and checked a non existent watch.

he surprised you by actually crossing the room and getting behind the bar, searching through the cabinets and drawers for actually helpful things but also coincidentally allowing you to continue having your fun.

“so… bartender.” your voice was higher than normal and you’d suddenly gained a much thicker southern accent than your usual light drawl. “im new to town. anything fun to do around here?”

he was finally turning to look at you and you watched him curiously as he tossed an abandoned washcloth over his shoulder like he’d been drying glasses, your gaze growing heavier when he put both of his hands flat on the side of the bar and leaned slightly forward.

“pretty dead this time of year.” his voice was low and his face was as emotionless as always but his joke surprised you into a loud and sudden burst of laughter, laying your head down flat on the wood for a few seconds.

you’d never necessarily considered daryl funny but the vibe had certainly shifted from your harsh argument earlier and you couldn’t help but smile at him when you finally picked your head back up, resting your chin on your palm.

he didn’t speak for a while but he didn’t seem like he was planning to shy away from your gaze. maybe daryl was more confident after the sun had set, the bar barely lit outside of a few oil lamps he had apparently flicked on while you were playing pretend.

“what if this was how we met?” you didn’t feel stupid as you spoke even though a few hours ago you would’ve willingly ran into a tree before asking something like that to him. he didn’t respond but you noticed his grip on the bar tightening until his knuckles were white. “would you be at a bar like this?”

at first he didn’t respond and once again you felt that fear creep up, the isolation of his silence lingering in the back of your mind. then he was chewing on the inside of his cheek before shaking his head.

“nah.” it was low and gruff but it was something, almost everything to you and you were leaning even further off your seat and into your palm. “ain’t paying for shitty beer.”

you nodded at his answer and it actually made a lot of sense to you that he was the type of guy who’d rather drink at home but you wanted to pout at the fact he wasn’t playing along with you and your overactive imagination. he could see the disappointment flickering across your face but your eyes were lighting up before he could try to fix it.

“but we are here right?” you start slowly like you’re trying to paint the same picture for him that you’re able to see, maybe with some music playing instead of the sounds of walker growls in the distance. he doesn’t say anything and you take his silence as permission. “and im sitting on this stool, babysitting some shitty beer.”

you slightly mocked his accent as you repeated his words back to him and he scoffed out a laugh at the sound of your thick and over exaggerated recreation of it.

your mouth turned up at the sound of him laughing but it quickly seized when you were sliding your jacket off your arms.

daryl knew what you were wearing underneath, he’d felt the warm skin you were showcasing last night around this time even and yet he still wasn’t prepared for the image of it. he’d seen you in less if he actually thought about it but the small tank top wasn’t necessarily the point rather than the picture you were successfully painting now.

he could actually imagine the two of you at the bar in some other world, you dressed in something that would keep his eyes on you while you pretended to like the drink some asshole had ordered for you.

it was easier to forget the fact you hadn’t been able to drink before the end of the world and this was probably your first time in an actual bar when you were looking at him like that.

he wondered briefly if you meant to be as intimidating as you were sometimes, especially now as you smoothly slid off the stool while keeping your eyes locked on his. you answered his silent question by stopping to flick off one of the oil lamps as you walked towards his side of the bar.

the process continued as you disappeared with the light just to come back again under the glow of the next lamp before once again darkening it

there was a sane part of him that was screaming about this not being the time or the place, reminding him how much was constantly at stake. this was dangerous, you were dangerous and in more ways than one.

especially now that all the lights were off and you were suddenly right in front of him again, not quite as dark or close as it had been yesterday but enough for him to understand that you were once again wanting something from him that he could not give.

your hands were back on him and smoothing over his chest and arms, a repeat of events but this time there was confidence in the way you were moving. you barely hesitated before tangling your hand in his hair and pulling him closer to your lips and he didn’t resist the movement, staring down at you with that same blank look on his face that drove you to insanity.

he flinched back as far as your hands would allow when you went to kiss him, rocking on your tiptoes for a second before landing flat on your feet and pouting.

“it’s only us left in the entire world.” your whispered statement was as much reality as it was an exaggeration but he understood the point you were making before you spelled it out. “nobody will ever know.”

it was ridiculous how much your demeanor shifted under the thinly veiled mask of darkness.

this time when you were making an attempt, he was allowing you to kiss him. the pace of it was feverish from the beginning and you felt slightly smug with some solid proof that he had been wanting this as much as you had, regardless if that had started last night or long beforehand.

he wasn’t needing a guiding hand to touch you anymore and you sighed into his mouth when his rough hands were on your lower back, pulling you into him harshly like he had momentarily forgotten his own strength.

that wasn’t something you were capable of and your entire body felt like it was on fire as you remembered the things he was capable of, the things you’d seen him do to protect the ones he cared about. it wasn’t lost on you that you were included in that and your mouth felt bruised and swollen when you momentarily stopped kissing him in favor of pressing your lips along his jaw.

“god you could hurt me.” your voice was a single breath and he was opening his eyes to look at you, making brief eye contact whenever you came up from his hot skin. his gaze was heavy and alarmingly emotional, almost like he was fearing what you would say for one reason or another. “but you won’t, such a good man.”

you could tell the praising words bugged him so you didn’t object when he was grunting and kissing you again, affectively shutting you up while sparking your interest in putting your tongue in his mouth.

he was painfully curious where you’d learned to kiss so dirty, the idea of you wasting it on some idiot highschool boy getting under his skin for some reason. you were simultaneously hoping you were doing everything right and pushing yourself backwards up onto the counter to try to seem more bold.

your hands were clawing at the wood to try to get a good grip and hoist yourself up but luckily he was paying attention, easily lifting you by your waist and placing you there like it was nothing.

daryl still couldn’t see you but now he could feel your legs wrapping themselves around his middle and pulling him forward until his core was pressed against yours, drinking in the sound of your whines when you realized the position you’d put yourself into.

now you could feel that he was turned on and the knowledge was dangerous to your growing ego, still longing to hear another sound from him or to get him to fully snap and take you like you wanted.

his silence remained steely and you figured he wasn’t going to dare speak and risk putting himself too presently in the situation, bad enough that he was kissing your lips and pressing you into the bar top like some horny teenager.

he knew he had a responsibility now and before the end of the world, a moral code that didn’t stop just because the laws did. he knew you were legally an adult and aged even more by the things you’d had to go through but it didn’t stop the fact that he was over twice your age and the only person you had left, something that was settling uncomfortably in his skin.

is that the reason you were doing this, slipping your hand down the front of his chest until you were tugging at the rough leather of his belt?

“stop thinking so much.” your voice was still as breathy as it was before but it sounded firmer now, wanting him to hear your words. he rested his forehead against yours as you undid his belt and the narrow glare of his gaze was making your head spin. “i want this, want you.”

daryl tried his best to heed your advice, listen to the pure lust dripping from your voice as you told him what any man would want to hear from something as beautiful as you. he ducked his head into your neck when you finished removing his belt and he tried not to be too hasty as he roughly pulled down your low rise jeans.

he weirdly hadn’t put much thought behind what you’d look like without clothes despite his concerning amount of time spent fantasizing about different scenarios.

maybe you’d find him stupid if you knew he more often pictured you sending a youthful smile his way or grasping onto his hand when you were scared rather than what it would be like to take you to bed (or the top of an old bar counter).

you’d most likely laugh in his face if you knew how badly he wanted to protect you, feeling a heavy darkness low in his gut at the thought of you in danger.

he was thinking this like your hand wasn’t back in his hair while you did your best to pull his jeans down with your heels, pulling him back into a kiss and trying to bring him back to the present moment. you were slightly pained at how much he was clearly overthinking but you were too far gone into your desire to let it stop you from having him.

it was easier for him to get out of his head when you were whining louder and louder as he entered you, tugging at his hair and clawing at his back to hear another pained grunt from him at the feeling of your nails on his skin.

there was a lack of words from both of you now even though you had plenty to say, longing to catch your breath long enough to tell him how good he felt. or rather ask him about what he was feeling, coerce him with your tightness so he was less likely to regret what you were doing.

you wanted to make sure he knew that you weren’t settling for your idea of the last man on earth, detail how much you liked the lowness of his weathered voice and how rough his hands felt as he fumbled to grab onto any bare skin of yours he could find.

there was no part of you that was ignoring the clumsy way he dragged you closer to the edge of the counter as you both started to reach your peak, desperation causing an obvious fever in him that was making him act more impulsively.

no regret surged through you as you finished around him, bringing him back into another bruising kiss with slower rocks of your hips to try to urge him to come undone too.

daryl was completely frozen after and you almost didn’t want to open your eyes to search the dark for the look on his face, preferring to stay in the hazy moment with him still inside of you and not yet closing back off at the realization of what you’d done, what he’d done to you.

his age was showing again in the way he was still careful with you afterwards despite his inner turmoil, pouring some of your last bits of water onto the cleanest rag he could find to help clean you up and even pulling you further off the counter so he could button your jeans for you.

it was almost romantic if it wasn’t for the hovering knowledge that what had happened was technically a mistake by all moral standards.

you’d instinctively reached for his hand as he cleared his throat awkwardly and went to back away from you, letting it linger between your two bodies as you slid off the bar and stood there in front of him.

the ashamed look on his face was expected but he was mildly surprised to see the wide eye stare you were sending back, peering up at him like he had hung the moon and the stars that were lighting your faces through the dusty windows.

you had plenty of time for him to shut you out and deal with the inward battle about the lines you’d crossed together but you weren’t going to give up that easily, squeezing his rough palm and following behind him like it was completely typical behavior for the two of you.

your heart was thawed out knowing he’d come around eventually, even if it was only in the late hours of the night where it was easiest to pretend you were the last people on earth.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #twd #norman reedus #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon fluff #twd fanfiction #oldermen #older man younger woman

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httpvomitello · 2 months ago

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Hiii could you do a George x Reader?

Where she's Sirius 's daughter and his family doesn't trust her and stuff because she's still related to people like Bellatrix and Narcissa and George gets into a heated argument with them over it? Something like that please!

Hello, helloooooo! Hope you like it ~ ♡

Blood and Loyalty *⁠.⁠✧

Summary: Being Sirius Black’s daughter meant being judged for the blood that ran through your veins. Despite fighting alongside the Order, the Weasleys still struggled to trust you, haunted by your ties to the Black family name.

george weasley x f!slytherin reader

The Burrow had never felt less like home.

You sat at the long wooden table, feeling the heat of the fire against your back, but it did nothing to thaw the ice settling in your chest.

“She’s still a Black.”

Bill’s words cut through the air like a blade, sharp and cold, and you felt your breath hitch.

The weight of the room pressed down on you as every Weasley in attendance either looked away or studied you with quiet suspicion. The judgment was suffocating, their silence worse than any spell.

It didn’t matter that you had fought alongside them.

It didn’t matter that your father had died for the same cause they claimed to fight for.

To them, you would always be the niece of Bellatrix Lestrange, the cousin of Draco Malfoy, and a member of a bloodline they had been raised to despise.

George sat beside you, his arm stretched protectively along the back of your chair, his grip on the wood tight enough to turn his knuckles white. You could feel the tension radiating off him like a storm ready to break.

“She is not like them,” George said, his voice dangerously calm, the kind of calm that only came before an explosion.

Bill sighed, rubbing his temples. “George, we’re not saying she is,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “But she was raised by—”

“I was raised by Sirius,” you interrupted sharply, your voice shaking with anger. “And he was murdered fighting against Death Eaters. He gave up everything for this war, and you’re sitting here acting like his daughter can’t be trusted?”

Charlie crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “It’s not that simple.”

“Isn’t it?” you shot back, your nails digging into your palms. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks very simple.”

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Look, it’s not like we think you’d—y’know—do anything. It’s just… you’re related to people who would.”

George let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, bloody brilliant, Ron. She’s related to Death Eaters, so she must secretly be one too? That’s your logic?”

Ron scowled. “That’s not what I—”

“Well, it sure as hell sounds like what you’re saying.”

Molly put her hands on her hips. “George, don’t take that tone with your brother.”

George turned to her so fast it was a miracle his neck didn’t snap. “Oh, don’t take that tone?” he repeated mockingly. “Right, because I’m the problem here. Not the fact that you all are sitting around this table accusing my girlfriend—someone I love—of being a bloody traitor just because of her last name!”

Arthur cleared his throat, trying to keep the peace. “No one is accusing her of anything, George, but you have to understand how it looks—”

“How it looks?” George scoffed, his ears burning red with anger. “You lot are the ones who go on and on about how family doesn’t define you, but the second it’s her, suddenly, it’s different?”

Fred, who had been quiet up until now, raised an eyebrow. “I mean… he’s got a point.”

Percy, of course, was unmoved. “We’re in a war, George. We have to be cautious.”

George slammed his fist against the table, making everyone jump. “Oh, bullshit.” His voice was shaking now, barely contained fury spilling over. “You want to talk about family? Fine. Let’s talk about family. Let’s talk about Sirius, who risked his life for years just so you lot could sit here and act holier than thou. Let’s talk about Andromeda, who got disowned for marrying a Muggle-born. Let’s talk about Regulus, who died trying to bring Voldemort down. But no, let’s not talk about that, because that doesn’t fit your little narrative, does it?”

Percy’s jaw tightened. “You’re being emotional—”

“OF COURSE I’M BEING EMOTIONAL, PERCY!” George shouted, pushing back his chair so forcefully it nearly toppled over. “THIS IS HER LIFE YOU’RE SITTING HERE PICKING APART LIKE SHE’S A BLOODY SUSPECT!”

You swallowed hard, throat tight as you looked around the table. The Weasleys—the family you had desperately wanted to be a part of—were staring at you like you were a problem to be solved.

It stung. Merlin, it burned.

George turned to look at you, and the fire in his eyes softened for just a moment. Then, his grip on your hand tightened, and he turned back to his family with the same unwavering conviction.

“I trust her,” he said, his voice quieter but no less powerful. “I love her. And if you actually knew her—if you actually cared to know her—you would too.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Fred was the first to speak. “You do have a bad habit of thinking everyone in Slytherin is evil,” he pointed out to Percy. “Remember when you thought Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin? Good times.”

Ginny let out a reluctant snort. “Oh yeah. And wasn’t there that time you swore our History of Magic professor was hiding Dark artifacts?”

Percy scowled. “That was a logical suspicion.”

George rolled his eyes. “Right. But my girlfriend is the issue.”

Arthur sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. “No one is saying she’s the issue, George.”

George scoffed. “Sure as hell feels like you are.”

Molly, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. “We were wrong,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “And I’m sorry, dear,” she added, looking at you. “You’ve been nothing but kind to us, and we should’ve seen that instead of… everything else.”

Arthur nodded in agreement. “George is right. Family doesn’t define who we are. We should’ve given you more credit.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t everything.

But it was a start.

George, however, wasn’t done. “Yeah, well, next time, maybe don’t make my girlfriend feel like a bloody criminal before you get around to realizing that.”

Charlie sighed again. “Duly noted.”

Ron cleared his throat. “So… we’re all good then?”

George huffed. “Not even remotely, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Fred smirked. “Damn, mate, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this whipped.”

George turned to you then, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch so deliberate that it made your heart ache. “Yeah, well,” he said, grinning despite himself, “she’s worth it.”

The tension lingered long after dinner had ended. Though Arthur and Molly had offered their apologies, you could still feel the weight hanging in the air. You weren’t sure if it was all in your head, but every glance in your direction felt like it carried the ghost of doubt.

George had barely left your side since the argument. His hand was either on your back, your shoulder, or intertwined with yours, as if he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go.

You sat curled up in one of the worn armchairs in the Burrow’s living room, staring into the crackling fire. The warm glow danced over the walls, casting shadows that flickered like ghosts. George sat on the floor beside you, his back against the chair, absently playing with your fingers as he watched the flames.

“They’ll come around,” he murmured, breaking the silence.

You sighed. “Will they?”

George turned slightly, looking up at you. “They bloody well better,” he said, a little fire still left in his voice. “I’m not going to spend every holiday listening to them question you when they should be questioning why Percy is still allowed at the table after the Ministry stunt he pulled.”

That made you huff out a laugh. “That’s different.”

“Oh, sure,” he said, nodding sarcastically. “He outright betrays the family, but yeah, let’s grill my girlfriend because her aunt happens to be a psychopath.”

You rested your chin on your knees, your fingers tightening slightly around his. “I just… I get it, George. Even if it hurts. The Black name is cursed in their eyes.”

George shook his head firmly. “Not to me,” he said. “Not to Sirius.”

At the mention of your father, your throat tightened. You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly at the fire. “He’d be so pissed if he saw how they treated me tonight.”

“Oh, furious,” George agreed. “He’d hex Percy’s eyebrows off just for fun.”

That actually made you snort. “And then he’d hex yours, just to be fair.”

George grinned. “Yeah, well, I’d take it as an honor.”

Silence settled between you again, but this time it was warmer, more comfortable. George kept playing with your fingers, tracing patterns on your palm.

Finally, he spoke, voice quieter now. “You are family, you know.”

You looked down at him, his profile bathed in the fire’s glow. “To you?”

He turned fully this time, twisting so he was kneeling in front of you, resting his arms on the armrest of the chair. His eyes were soft but steady, filled with something deep and unwavering. “To me,” he confirmed. “And to Fred. And Ginny. And, well, half of them already admitted they were being stupid, so give it time. They’ll see what I see.”

You swallowed against the lump in your throat. “And what do you see?”

A slow smile crept across his lips, but it wasn’t playful—it was serious. And that was what made your breath catch.

“I see the girl who’s stronger than any of them,” he said. “Who’s spent her whole life proving she’s more than a name. Who fights harder, loves deeper, and makes me feel like the luckiest idiot in the world just for being in the same room as her.”

Your heart hammered against your ribs. “George—”

“I love you,” he said, the words slipping out like they had always been there, like they had always belonged to you.

You sucked in a breath, barely realizing your hands had moved to his face, your thumbs brushing over the freckles on his cheeks.

And then you whispered, “I love you too.”

Before he could say another word, you closed the space between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that left no room for doubt.

George didn’t hesitate. His hands found your waist, pulling you down from the chair and into his lap, arms wrapping around you like he was never letting go.

And maybe, just maybe, he never would.

#reader #x reader #y/n #f!reader #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #george weasly x reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley #fred and george #sirius black daughter #sirius black #x y/n #x female reader #weasley family #angst #molly weasley #arthur weasley #ron weasley

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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 years ago

Text

Miguel Having A Crush On You Would Include…

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Obsessive Miguel, Possessive Miguel, Implied Yandere Miguel, Miguel in Love, Vampire Marking, Marking (Kind Of), Fluff, Typical Crush Behaviour, Petnames/Nicknames, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.

Him being absolutely OBSESSED with you.

Literally completely feral, down bad, infatuated, etc.

Initially, when he realised he’d started liking you in a romantic sense, he tried pushing you away; tried drowning his feelings in work, missions, Hell – even resolving petty spats between the Spiderpeople at the base. Anything to exorcise this rising feeling of butterflies in his chest whenever you were around. Vulnerability.

However, you were persistent.

You’d bring him lunch whenever you knew it would be a long day in the office for him, telling him that “Even the best superhero needs a sandwich every now and then!”

And by God were your sandwiches phenomenal.

Though he’d never admit it, his heart would skip a beat whenever the door to his office opened, knowing that it could be you paying him a visit with your delectable lunchables, or even just to check in on him. Make him feel special in ways nobody else had or could in years.

Eventually, this turned into a daily affair; one Miguel would watch the clock for, wait for. Long for.

Miguel also tried hiding his feelings when you brought him hand-crafted, love-filled desserts that he just couldn’t bring himself to ignore or throw away. Or, when Miles offered to take them off his hands, let anyone else have.

Eventually, there isn’t a day that goes by where you aren’t with him in some capacity. And it shows.

Whenever you’re late, even only by a few minutes, Miguel can feel his heart spike, asking Lyla where you are, if she can track you, etc.

“Sounds like you liiiike (Y/N)~” Lyla gives Miguel a knowing smile.

Miguel just grunts, ignores her. Though, he can feel the corners of his lips turning up, and hides them behind a well-placed hand, rubbing his temples.

Soft glances whenever you’re in the room, all his attention turning to you and you alone.

He just loves to stare at you. You’re so beautiful that he can’t understand why nobody else passing you has to stitch their dropped jaw back onto their face.

Then again, he is grateful. The fury that bubbles inside him whenever he catches someone glancing at you, gaze lustful, is all-consuming, enough to make his teeth grind, his eyes bleed a light rouge hue, piercing. He makes sure they’ll never cross paths with you again.

Gradually, your warmth and kindness thaws his walls, and, once the floodgates are open, neither you nor he can predict the dark ocean that is to flood your lives.

He doesn’t mean to throw himself full-force into his feelings, but after being so guarded for so long, he just can’t help it.

Becomes overly-concerned with every facet of your life. More so than he already was.

Constantly trying to find out information about you, though being stumped as to how to do so without arousing your suspicion.

Asks Lyla to track you, see what you’re doing, who you’re with, their relation to you.

However, she begins to deny Miguel such luxuries, telling him to “Grow a pair and ask (Y/N) yourself!”

When he realises Lyla is steadfast in her resolve, he does so. Reluctantly.

Though, once he starts, he finds it difficult to stop.

“Where are you going after work?”, “Are you going out tonight with anyone?”, “Who?”

Eventually, you just look up at him, seemingly oblivious to his growing desperation, and say: “Gosh, Miguel, you’re starting to sound like you’re my boyfriend or something!”

His heart stops. His throat dries and he just looks at you, eyes wide.

One second passes. Then two. Then–

“Oh– uh– yeah... I mean, not that that’s weird, right? Unless you think it is weird, then–”

Lyla has to step in and save him from himself, telling him he has ‘urgent business’ in one of the other wings of the facility.

His suit suddenly feels too tight and too hot beneath the collar whenever he has to speak with you alone.

And tight in…other places when his mind wanders to the more intimate aspects of your hypothetical relationship.

Miguel likes to rationalise this as him preparing how best to please you when the time, inevitably, comes for him to claim you, make you his. At least, this staves off the post-nut clarity (guilt) just a little longer when he’s pursuing a release, blasphemous images of you running through his mind.

A good example of this occurs almost nightly, with Miguel thoroughly loving a pillow clad in a shirt he’d lent you once, your scent still woven, though faded, into the fabric.

Many nights, his face is pressed to the cotton of that shirt, muffling his lips and his moans as his teeth sink into your temporary body, extending, marking, hand moving fervently beneath the bed sheets, your name the chant of many a spell of ardour.

You might mistake that red glow on his cheeks for the illumination of the console screens, but anyone who looks close enough knows better.

He loves showing you around the facility. Especially when your eyes light up and you remark how intelligent he is for “Doing this all on your own,”

Any compliment from you makes his heart thrum and his cheeks burn with the urge to smile. And, if it’s only you in his company, he does so.

Maybe even give you a nervous laugh.

You’re the only one he feels comfortable with showing emotion to.

He hopes that his displays aren’t lost on you; that you know him well enough to know that every smile, every laugh, is for you and you only.

And he is determined to, one day, make that smile of yours for him. And only him.

But, for now, he will content himself with daydreams and night ventures into territory not yet known, all the while possessing a seat beside you, being a shoulder for you to cry on, an ear into which you may pour your worries, a hero on whom you can always depend in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

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munsster · 9 months ago

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Hi I just read fixer user and I loved it! I was wondering if you could do a part 2 💖💖

an act of true love

A/N: (your pfp made me scream and curl my toes) an unexpected amount of ppl rlly enjoyed this dynamic. i suppose i have found my people 🤭 (gif creds: @kingofscoops)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (Season 3)

Summary: In the dead of winter, there’s absolutely nothing that could keep you warm. After all, only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart. 1.5k words

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, pet names (sweetheart), mention of toxic ex boyfriend, cursing, gross flirting

Steve can hear you shivering through the receiver and your stuttered breaths crackling through the cord. You’re begging him to come over and fix your radiator in the middle of a snow storm. The roads aren’t closed yet, but a thin white powder blankets his front lawn and the top of his beemer and he can see the flakes whipping through the stream of light pouring from the streetlamp. So, he piles every blanket he has into his passenger seat and braves the drive to your house.

Does he know how to repair a busted radiator? No.

Is he determined to do anything you require of him? Every single day for the rest of his life.

He’s crouched by the window of your living room, looking for any telltale signs of wear or leaking. You’re standing just behind him, bundled in two blankets and holding a spare flashlight. He’s quiet as he tinkers, but your mind is racing watching his soft toned arms through his cream thermal and his back muscles working when he turns over his shoulder to glance at you with a dashing smile. You nod quickly when he says something, though you’re not exactly sure what.

“Sweetheart?” he coos, raising his brows when you recoil under his gaze.

“Sorry, I didn’t… I wasn’t listening,” you say with a chuckle. He grins, dropping his head in understanding.

“Sorry, I know it’s boring,” he says, “but has it been making noises or anything?”

“Oh, yeah! It kinda groans when I first turn it on and it sounds like it might explode for the first couple minutes. I guess I’ve tuned it out by now.”

“That’s probably not a good sound then,” he teases, turning back to the radiator with a puzzled look.

“No, probably not.” You shuffle off to the kitchen, setting a kettle on the stove and humming softly.

After half an hour of tinkering and a roll of tape, Steve stands and wipes his hands on his jeans.

“That should do it! It’ll probably take a sec to heat up again,” he sighs, and you emerge from the kitchen, balancing two hefty mugs brimming with whipped cream. “Ooh, what’s this?”

“Hot cocoa. Secret family recipe,” you tease. In actuality, it’s just the standard package of chocolate powder and sugar. The secret lies in the healthy dash of cinnamon you mix into it.

“Secret, eh? Guess that gives me a reason to come see you more often,” he hums, following you to the couch and taking one of the mugs from your hands. It warms him up nicely, and he knows you gave him the bigger mug on purpose when you smile triumphantly. He takes a sip, moaning at the sweetness. You giggle at the whipped cream kissing his top lip.

“I hope I’m reason enough,” you say with a faux pout. He sits close enough to share the pile of blankets with you, your thighs pressed against one another in the captured heat.

“Duh, you’re the main attraction,” he huffs, “Your hot chocolate is like the flashy side show. It’s pretty neat but not quite as cool as the reason you bought the ticket.”

You giggle into your mug, face hot in the bellowing steam. Or because of his dimpled cheeks. Or the way his eyes swoop over your face. Or maybe the way he came rushing to your rescue in a storm without a second thought.

“Any new Brad-related developments? Or is he still giving you shit?” he says, swallowing a warm gulp of liquid chocolate.

You groan, head lulling back against the couch. “He keeps calling to say I’m a cold hearted bitch and then immediately hang up. I think he forgot that he’s the one who broke up with me.”

“Right, right. Why’s that again?”

“Something about his family’s values. And how he hates my friends,” you say, “I just remember getting mad because he seemed so jealous and mistrusting. Honestly, in hindsight, he was really childish about the whole thing.”

You shrug it off, but it snaps his heart in two all over again. He doesn’t even want to know the gorey details because he knows it’ll boil his blood. Just knowing that asshole said something like that to you makes his fists ball up in frustration. But he thinks of what you said. What did Brad have to be jealous about; he had the entire world and Steve never bat an eye. Not to you, at least.

“Jealous?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, he’d give me all these ultimatums where I’d have to choose between you and him. So random,” you huff. Though, maybe he was justified in some way. You and Steve have been this close since the day you met. Any love interest would feel threatened by his charm and that smile.

“Oh… weird”—He watches you take a cautious sip from your mug like maybe you regret saying anything at all—“Yeah. That’s random. Had no idea I posed such a threat to that guy. He seemed so… self-assured.”

You stare blankly, shrugging when you mutter, “you can call him a narcissistic prick, i don't care. And yeah, I was kinda surprised the first time he brought it up, because a big part of why I was attracted to him was for his confidence” you chuckle, “No idea what went wrong!

Steve absentmindedly squares his shoulders, sitting up straught on the plush cushions trying to make himself look strong and reliable and confident. You sip your hot chocolate and look at him funny.

“Are you okay?” you say, holding in a laugh.

He nods. “Oh, yeah. I’m just super confident ‘s all.”

You snort, choking on the sip you’d sucked down, pinching your eyes closed when he lurches forward with a worried look slapped across his face.

“Shit, here, let me help,” he huffs, setting his mug aside and wiping the drips from your chin with his sleeve, “Oh, god, are you hurt???”

You cackle with tears pricking in your eyes when he carefully takes your mug and places it next to his. You pat dry your neck, and he watches you softly.

“Stevie, you’re so sweet.”

His heart flutters in his warm chest when you smile at him.

“Well, I dunno about that.”

“No, seriously. You’re so caring and thoughtful, I’ve never met anyone like you,” you whisper.

He takes a shaky breath in.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

You nod heartily and grin wide, and you notice he’s staring at you. So you kick his calf under the blanket.

“Hey, ouch!”

You giggle, but he’s quick to grab the crook of your knee and tug you close so you’re laying flat on the couch. Your hands cover your face when he tickles your sides and leans over you playfully. He’s almost glad you can’t see him blushing or feel his heart racing or hear his head booming with thoughts of you. He gasps when you plant your socked foot on his thigh, but he holds your elbow gently to keep you close to him while he leans over you.

You’re laughing, and he can confidently say it’s his favorite sound. You palm his chest, and he takes a deep breath in. Your eyes flick open because you’ve never felt someones heart beat so fast and so warm just beneath your fingertips. He’s flushed and pink but he looks like a prince in the orange lamplight. And he’s so close to you.

Your fingers curl into the collar of his shirt, barely grasping, and you crane your neck towards him. You watch his honey eyes draw over your lips just before he leans in and kisses you.

His hand molds into your side, melting over the exposed skin like hot syrup. You press into his hold and smile with your fingers drawing up and across the back of his neck.

But the kiss short lived when he pulls away, shoving a hand through his ruffled hair.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Steve huffs, standing and backing away, “I don’t know what I’m doing. I should go!”

He crosses the floor in a daze, forcing his feet back into his shoes before you even can sit up and call after him.

“Steve, wait!”

But he’s shaking his head and reaching for the ice cold door handle with his jacket barely slung over his shoulders. He whips the door open, and you can see the pure white snow floating down in sheets outside.

“Keep the blankets! Just call me if the radiator breaks again, and I’ll see you!”

The door slams shut.

You tut, hand coming to your lips as you look around at the scene before you. The abandoned mugs on the coffee table, his blankets folded over the back of the couch, your repaired radiator whirring softly in the corner. The absence of Steve. What would the kids say. You know they’d lose it, but would they be upset if you ended up together. Would they realize they changed their minds and you’d jeopardized not only your friendship with Steve but with the entire party.

What if everything changes?

Oh, but what if nothing changes: you and Steve tip toeing around each other, the kids scheming and giggling at your misfortune, but now changed by the fact that you’ve kissed Steve. And he kissed you back. And you like him so much.

"Oh, god.”

more like this

masterlist

#the babygirlification of steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #fluff #friends to lovers #best friends to lovers #stranger things #x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #x fem!reader #kristoff!steve x anna!reader #scoops ahoy #stranger things season three

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nnight-dances · 11 months ago

Text

EVERYTHING

PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x f!reader (ft. wonbin)

GENRE: angst, fluff toward the end

TROPES: established relationship, model!jeonghan, singer-songwriter!reader, jealousy, paparazzi interference and rumors, and so on.

NOTE: this was hard to write so bear with me and let me know if there's anything that absolutely sucks about this lol... i love jeonghan but he's so hard to write (maybe it's because i'm the most not normal about him)... anyway this plot is kinda inspired by a real life fight i had with a friend who i have ambiguous feelings so do with that what u will :) enjoy!!!!

"thanks, love," jeonghan mumbles into your cheek when you hand him the wallet he'd forgotten at home this morning. even in the dim moody lighting of the room, you can see he's genuinely happy to see you when he pecks your cheek. you smile and press your hand into his, "how bad was today?"

he hums, "not too bad if i don't think about it too hard."

it's not out of the ordinary for a successful model like jeonghan to have the mind-numbing schedule he has but you can't help hurting for him anyway. "i'm sorry, babe," you squeeze his fingers and he nods in acknowledgement. he's too tired to say much most days so you've gotten accustomed to interpreting his silences.

you were part of a band known for its jazzy music and you were its lead singer and song-writer, which meant it couldn't be helped that you had written more than a few love songs dedicated to yoon jeonghan, your lover of over two years now. in that time, you'd found a good beat with jeonghan, spending a good four months with both your heads' deep in work and only the nighttime spent in each other's arms. sometimes, jeonghan's international presence meant a few weeks of not even that. and as your band got bigger, you took on tours that only took you further from jeonghan. but after a rocky summer, came the breeze of fall.

fall meant downtime for both your jobs, a time you could easily retreat and while the rest of the world turned vacation mode off, you would travel with jeonghan, whether it be across the world or just along his skin on a rainy weekend. it was easy with him, even when it wasn't.

but recently, you'd found yourself wondering if it really was that easy still. tonight you're performing at this club, a local presence known for its hosting of musical influences, and jeonghan managed to escape his impossible day to watch you. you should feel loved, grateful for him, but when it's your turn to perform, you feel yourself drift away from him.

onstage, even as you introduce yourself and your band members, your eyes are on him. but he seems so far away. he watches you, not a smile on his face, just familiarity. as if he'd memorized all that you had to say, as if this was another box to tick on his long day. you clear your throat to steady your mind and open the first song, "this one's called heavy." it was an old song, perhaps one you'd only performed before you met jeonghan. which would explain how hopeless the melody was, how uncertain your voice got throughout, and scarily enough, how much you found yourself relating to it now, so many years later.

after the song's over, you glance at jeonghan and he seems as stoic as ever, clapping in encouragement but without any mirth. you sigh, "woah, sorry to bring the mood down like that," you chuckle a little when the crowd laughs, "um, anyway, this next one's much happier, i promise. it's called loverboy… after my one and only, well, boy." you laugh again and spot jeonghan smile, too, all the way at the bar and your heart thaws a little, allowing you to get through the song without thinking again about how cold it felt in the room.

you get through the next two songs without a hitch, perhaps because you let yourself go on autopilot mode and restrict yourself from even looking at jeonghan for your own sake, and come down with a heavy sigh. your bandmate, yves, touches you on the shoulder with a frown, "you good, y/n?" you nod, "yeah… i'm just tired. or something." she pats you on the head, "don't think too hard about things, dove. just let go. or something." you laugh at her witty piece of advice and thank her as you head for jeonghan, naturally.

he wraps you in his arms when you find him, plenty kisses on your neck, "my girl did so well."

you let out an uneasy groan, "i don't know, han, i feel like i was lame."

jeonghan pulls away with a frown, "no, you weren't. you were amazing. although that first song caught me off guard. it's been a while since you performed it."

"yeah… it was my decision but it felt right," you shrug. jeonghan's eyes take on a gravity you don't like when you say that so you avert your gaze, "but more importantly, when can we go home so i can get out of this dress and sleep?"

a year ago, jeonghan would've gone, "i'll help you take it off right now, love," but now he agrees solemnly, "i think we go as soon as everyone's focused on the next set."

–

you know it's stupid, you do, to dwell over the details of your relationship this obsessively. but honestly, once you start there's just so much to pick at. to start, you felt more distant from jeonghan than ever, as if there was something unsaid in your way just keeping you from getting back close to him. and you hate it when things go unsaid. but you also knew jeonghan didn't care for spelling every little thing out, he could settle for a little discomfort till ignoring it was enough to make it go away.

but that was just it, you couldn't take it anymore. you'd had a few fights with jeonghan in the past and they'd all come down to the fundamental differences in your natures. you liked for everything to be said and thought out, especially if either of you felt hurt or unheard. jeonghan liked silence, just simple gestures speaking a million words and routines in place to reaffirm your love. you knew it was better his way, simpler and easier, but you'd lived his way and now, you find yourself suffocating in the same bed as him.

you stir away from him, rolling off the bed and onto your feet, and make your way to your makeshift studio, closing the door off incase jeonghan gets curious. you can just say you were working on a new song. once in, you throw yourself against a bean bag, head heavy in hands.

"god, this is stupid," you mumble as the tears roll out. you spiral almost immediately, thinking back to everything that went wrong in the past few months. for one, jeonghan was away for your 25th birthday, for the whole week, and though you'd spent it surrounded by your friends and his apologetic gifts, you couldn't talk the bitterness away. then, he'd been mad at you when you told him your tour started during the week he had off, calling you a "workaholic" because you'd rather work than go with him on the beach trip he'd planned. it was unfair, he'd admitted later, but not after you'd spent the whole week of your tour crying yourself to sleep.

to add to it all, were the recent rumors in the news about jeonghan's brand new 'mistress', a japanese model called nana. even before the first article came out, he'd called you outright, telling you his agency had caught a reporter in japan pestering nana if she was anything to jeonghan. that had only dullled the pain you felt when you read it, pictures of jeonghan and nana posing for a cover shoot. and it wasn't the first time jeonghan had looked absolutely stunning beside another person, far better than you'd looked with him in all the paparazzi snaps that circulated the net when questioning if you were still in the running for the attractive model.

it wasn't the first time and yet, thanks to your already strained relationship, you felt more hurt than usual. this was also the longest scandal yet, ongoing past four weeks, perhaps because of jeonghan's frequent visits to japan. it really got you thinking how there were so many reasons for the two of them to be in the same room.

–

jeonghan, alone in your shared bed, inevitably wakes up, confused when he doesn't feel you. "y/n?" he calls out, hoping you might just be using the washroom, but the lights are off and there's no sound in the bedroom. "my love?" he calls out louder, propping himself up on his elbows. when he hears no response, he falls onto his back with a weary sigh.

there was something up with you. you'd been acting… distant since the past two weeks. you'd pull away from his kisses a few beats too soon and wake up long before you had to. he wondered if he should ask you because he knows that's what you'd want but whenever he got to sit down next to in full seriousness, he'd go weak, missing your presence when he was away.

he pulls out his phone, skimming throught the texts that had accumulated over the few hours he was asleep. there's a few from nana, the model he was rumored to be having an affair with.

nana: another stupid article :(

jeonghan sighs at the link she'd forwarded him. in full honesty, he'd all but developed a good friendship with nana while in japan, where he'd been previously lost without a good guide telling him where to go. given all his staff was korean, they could only be as useful as a google search. nana, however, had taken up to herself to show him the local spots, the shopping district where he'd been able to secure gifts for you, anticipating your needs before you'd known them.

you know all this, of course. jeonghan had offered to break all ties with nana if it bothered you but you'd been insistent that he keep his relationship with her, especially when it kept him sane abroad.

you'd said you were fine, so how come you weren't next to him, mumbling sweet nothings into his chest like you always loved to? when you couldn't sleep, you would wake him up with your persistent kisses, apologizing when he did finally come to, but then talking about everything in the world from your outfit tomorrow to your plans in the next five years.

"are we…" you'd started one night but then stopped, going hot and hiding your face into the pillow.

"are we what, love?" jeonghan pried you off the pillow and onto his arm, pushing his face close to yours so you couldn't run.

"are we serious, han?" you finally asked, quietly. "you know, like, long-term serious?"

"hmm, let me think… i don't know we've only been dating for 20 months so i wouldn't get your hopes–"

you hit his chest with a muffled giggle, "you know what i meant!"

"i don't, really?"

you avert your gaze, "are we ever gonna, you know, be married? have kids? that kind of thing…"

jeonghan's heartbeat had sped up despite all his nonchalant facades and his face disclosed his flustered state causing you to go redder. "it's- forget about it if it's not something you've thought about–"

"of course i've thought about marrying you, doll," jeonghan asserts, arm around your waist to stop you from flailing around, his fingers draw circles on your exposed stomach. "of course i want to be committed to you for life, y/n. and don't even get me started on kids. i know it doesn't seem like it because i'm such a cool guy but i'm crazy for kids–"

"no, it's pretty obvious, you basically lose your head everytime we see a couple with a newborn baby–"

"okay, well, there you have it. i want kids with you, y/n."

you mull over his words in silence for a moment and then, "not now though, right?" you say, "we're both too succesful in our careers to… start a home."

jeonghan palms your cheek lovingly, "i think what we have right now is already home. but you're right, i think we ought to wait some more time. till it feels right."

till it feels right, he'd told you and now he kind of regrets it. he should've asked you to marry you right there so you'd never have a reason to doubt your relationship ever again. but again, that too was just a dream.

–

jeonghan was off to japan for a week. yet again, you think, holding your tears back on a sunday afternoon when you wake up to a resounding silence in your home. you need to find a way to make things right, you know. you need to talk to jeonghan but honestly, your head hurts so much you'd rather just forget all about him.

that's why you find yourself crashing at yves' place for the next few days, her house known to be a hub for lost souls and good music. you spend your afternoons working on new music, inspired by your new surroundings, writing about everything but jeonghan and as soon as it hit seven, you'd be helping yourself to martinis, thanks to yves' well-equipped bar.

you were amid making yourself a drink while yves went over some notes and recordings you'd made this afternoon when she sat up with a weird look in her eyes. "y/n?"

"what is it? is it horrible?"

"no, it's not that. it's just… this feels like a different person," she comments, finger scrolling through your lyrics. "like a younger version of you? it has the same lonely vibe to it. i'm a fan of it to be honest, but i'm just wondering… is everything good?"

you chuckle, "yves, you ought to have known that if i'm here for an extended period of time, nothing is good… but i appreciatey you asking. i'll be fine, eventually."

your friend is lost in thought for a while and you sip your drink when her phone pings with a message. she reads it and turns to you with a glint in her eye.

"so… does that mean you'll go clubbing with me tonight?"

–

if you were gonna embrace a younger self, you might as well do it all, you thought, putting on a dress you'd loaned from yves. it was shorter than anything you'd worn recently and a light pink you never naturally gravitated towards. but you had to admit, it did look quite good on your figure when you looked in the mirror. you embellished your eyes with glitter, lining your eyes with mascara and a thin wing at the ends.

the club itself is nicer than you'd expected and you're glad you'd dressed up as much as you did, pursing your lips to make sure the lip gloss you'd applied was still intact. yves pulls you to a table with her friends, some of them mutual to you, others complete strangers to you. either way, they're all fun, welcoming you without a question.

one of the familiar faces is wonbin from a contemporary band known for its unique take on house music. he immediately materializes by your side when you've downed your first shot of the night, large grin overtaking his face. "you're here?"

you tilt your head at his question, "i am! it's weird, isn't it?"

"a little," he shrugs, "you stopped coming out with us after you got swept up with that pretty model boy of yours."

you grow a little uneasy at the mention of jeonghan's name, "yeah, well, i thought it would be good for my music if i reconnected to my past a little. let myself live a little."

wonbin smiles, "that's nice, i love that. and to that," he brings out two more shots, handing you one, "cheers!" you hesitate for a moment but then catch yves looking at you encouragingly, and clink glasses with him, downing the drink in a go.

that's all it really takes for you to let go. your body finds the music's rhythm faster than anyone else in the group so you take to the dance floor, and wonbin follows you, telling yves he'd look out for you. not that you need it.

it's been a few songs that you've been dancing around, with wonbin's body getting closer to you with each time. you blink when his hand is at your waist, and you clear your throat, "i'm gonna go get some water!" wonbin grabs a hold of your wrist, "i'll come with!"

it's a little uncomfortable, the way he's following you around, but you reassure yourself it was only for good intentions. a few more songs you keep yourself close to yves and her friends, feeling wonbin's presence heavily on your shoulder, but then you're a few more shots in and it doesn't really matter.

it's only when you return from the bathroom when things go awry. it starts with your phone blowing up with texts and a call from jeonghan. in the loud music of the club, you can barely think, let alone talk to your boyfriend who you'd been ignoring for a week so you decline. when you make back to your table, your phone goes off again. jeonghan again.

before you can register how odd it is of him to double-call you without good reason, wonbin's pulling you over next to him. you sit with a groan, "wonbin, i need to take this call–"

"y/n, you need to look at this. it's about jeonghan and that japanese model–"

yves cuts wonbin, "wonbin, get the fuck off her!" she tries to pry his arm off you but you find yourself unmoving when you catch jeonghan's figure on screen. he's laughing next to someone, a girl– oh, it's nana. she leans in close, a little too close, and you're not sure if it's your spinning head, but she keeps on getting closer, close until her lips are on jeonghan's and–

"i feel sick," you exclaim suddenly, clutching your stomach. wonbin's strong arms are around you in a moment and yves can't fight him off when he leads you through to crowd, weaving through the impossibly long line to the bathrooms. despite everything, you're thankful for him when he holds your hair up when you throw your guts up, tears mixing with the alcohol in your system.

when you're done, you ask yves if she can take you home and she's already ready with your bag over her shoulder.

"y/n, wait!" wonbin stops you, hand on your elbow, "can i talk to you for a sec–"

"wonbin, please, you've done enough, she needs to go home–"

"go home to what exactly?" he questions and you have to physically restrain yourself from falling to your knees with the sobs that wreck your body, "i'm here for you, y/n, if you ever need–"

down in your bones you know jeonghan better than anyone, know he would never be the kind to cheat on you, to ever leave you for the wolves like this. but honestly, the news ring out louder than anything in your head. "yoon jeonghan with ito nana, confirmed? was his little singer-songwriter girlfriend just a joke?"

that's how you feel right now. little. and like a joke. you simply nod at wonbin and turn around to leave the club before the music can suffocate you any more.

"i'm sorry, y/n, i didn't think he'd act up like that–"

"it's okay, yves, you didn't do anything," you tell her and look down at your phone at the photo of jeonghan that shows up every time he calls you. it was one you'd taken on your very first dates, of him sitting prettily across the table with a chopstick in each hand.

"you should talk to him, y/n," yves pats your back, "you don't have to go back to him but you have to hear him out, right?"

you sigh, "you're right."

you accept the call as yves leads you to a silent corner and gives you some space as she goes off for a smoke. you hold your breath when you hear jeonghan's voice. he sounds distraught.

"y/n? love?"

all you can do is sigh to delay your tears. "hey," you say coarsely and jeonghan's losing his mind.

"baby, can you stay where you are? i'm on my way, okay? i… i don't know what you've seen but you know it's not the truth. okay? just," you hear him run into someone and apologize. was he running to you? that would be crazy. "just let me talk to you."

you take a deep breath, "i'm waiting here."

you don't question how he found you, it's likely your location on life360, a feature you'd added a year into your relationship just to know where the other was. just in case.

you hadn't opened the app in a while, there hadn't been a reason. even if you knew where he was, he'd be far enough that it didn't mean enough.

it takes a few more minutes before you hear jeonghan's voice on the sidewalk outside the club. he's in a white shirt that's been untucked from his pants. he's disheveled, and you can only wonder why.

"y/n," he says, out of breath, sweat beading his forehead.

"did you run here?"

"the car was stuck in the traffic so i told my driver to catch up," he inhales deeply, "i had to see you."

"and why is that exactly?"

jeonghan sighs, "love, i think we both know why. that clip of nana kissing me probably found you by now?"

you look at your feet, "i saw it. i thought you guys were just friends?" you pause and before jeonghan can speak, you continue, "or was that just a lie silly little me believed?"

jeonghan's hands find your shoulders, "there is absolutely nothing between me and her. i thought my platonic feelings were reciprocated because we'd been normal for so long. but then today, she… she kissed me and i realized that was me being stupid."

"of course she was into you," you mumble.

"i'm sorry, i really am. not just for this but for the past few weeks. or more than at. i don't know how long it's been but i feel like i haven't been putting you first."

"jeonghan, you have to know that it just sounds like you're overcompensating so i forget about the nana stuff."

"there is no nana stuff," he tells you, "and if you must know, i was always planning to come home a few days earlier. you've been so cold lately and i thought i could surprise you. but then you stopped responding to my texts and i found out through your bandmates you hadn't been home in a week. i got worried and in my head."

"i admit, i let nana distract me, but as nothing more than a friend. because when you're gone, i also lose my closest friend. i have no one but you to talk to you, love, i can't trust anyone, not after today. and i'm so sorry that i don't talk to you more, that i don't address problems as they come up."

you feel weaker than ever, head still down as tears roll down. "y/n? are you crying? baby, look at me, please."

"han, i really don't know what to do anymore," you finally break out, letting him take you into his arms, "i've been so miserable without you. i… i can't do it anymore." you take a deep breath to gather your thoughts.

"you're so good at accepting changes and moving on from little fights. but i'm crazy. i get stuck in a spiral for days over the little things and after your scandal started, i… i can't help but think they're right."

you pull away to look jeonghan in the eyes, "maybe i'm not the right one–"

"no," jeonghan cuts you off with a hiss that surprises both of you, "i will not have you think the stupid crap they're writing in the news, okay? you're my love, y/n, you're my everything. seriously, did you not hear me? i don't care about anyone else like i care about you. god, i'm stupid for not having married you when i had the chance."

"han, i don't know, i'm so tired," you rest your head against his. "can we go home for now?"

later that night, you sit side by side with jeonghan on your side of the bed. you've taken your shoes off but not your dress. "is that a new dress?" he asks lowly.

"i borrowed it from yves," you reply, adjusting the straps to sit right, "does it look fine?"

you feel like you're in a liminal space with jeonghan right now. you haven't broken up but you're not sure if everything's back to normal just yet. funnily, it feels like the first few months of getting to know him. he has the same boyish nervousness about him as his hand reaches out to brush your hair out of your face.

"you look so good i'm mad i didn't buy you this dress," he says, "or that i didn't get to dance with you in it."

you sniff, "i wish you'd been there tonight." and after a moment, "i wish we weren't so different."

and then again, "i wish we were the same person so i could know your thoughts inside and out without having to bother you."

"it's not a bother, i'm just bad at it," jeonghan says, "and i don't wish we were the same person. because i love how different we are. i have so much fun with you, learning your ways and fighting with you."

"fighting is fun?" you ridicule him.

"only in retrospect, of course. i never want to see you look as hurt as you did tonight."

he reaches out for your hand and you let him, intertwining your fingers. he places your joined hands against his lips and then back into his lap. "i love you, y/n. i love you more than everything."

"i thought i was everything?" you ask through a half-concealed giggle.

"don't tease me when i'm being vulnerable, love," he whines, "i'm serious. i'm sorry for making you feel so ignored all this while. it was never my intention. everything i did, i did because i'm stupid and still learning. but i always want to be with you. i want to spend everyday with you."

"i love you too, han," you kiss his shoulder, "i'm sorry, too, for being so closed off. you don't have to feel so bad, it was partially my fault too."

jeonghan stands up, pulling you up after him. before you can ask him what's wrong, he hugs you tight, breath soft on your exposed back. your arms find his waist, rubbing his back in a reminder of how much you love him. slowly, you're not sure who starts it, you both start swaying to no song in particular, just to the rhythm of your heartbeats. he twirls you around with a smile and kisses your forehead.

"on that note, my love," jeonghan stills you, tiptoeing across the room to his bag, ruffling through before finding what he was looking for. it's only when he gets on a knee that you comprehend what's happening, "i know i haven't been the most promising husband material but i promise, it will only get better from here. i've made the mistake of not doing this earlier and i can't wait to make you mine forever. so, y/n, will you marry me?"

with that, he opens the black box in his hands, revealing the precious diamond ring inside.

you've never fallen to your knees faster, taking his hands in yours, "yes, of course, i'll marry you, han! i–" you fall short of words when you look at the ring in his hands, "i had no idea you were planning on– god, i'm– i love you, han."

"part of the reason i wanted to come back faster was to do this," he tells you softly, slipping the ring onto your finger, "to finally propose to you."

"finally?" you question, sensing some hidden meaning behind his words.

"well, i have had this ring for a year now. i considered getting a newer model but this one was just too gorgeous." he takes your left hand in his, "and it looks prettier on you than i could have ever imagined."

"a year?" you ask in disbelief, "han! you– why didn't you tell me?" you feel stupid really, knowing how long he'd planned on marrying you for real. his love for you looms over you and you can't help but feel lightheaded.

"because i didn't think it was the right time yet. i was wrong about that, of course. any time is right with you. i just needed to make you mine."

you throw your arms around him, tearing up again, "yoon jeonghan, god, you make me crazy."

"so is that a good crazy, as in you'll write happy love songs about me again or… as in i make you want to scream and shout?"

"honestly, a bit of both," you laugh against his shoulder, "and about the happy love songs… i think you should know but i wrote some really depressing songs while you were away. yves loves them so they'll end up on the next album but i know you don't necessarily like them so–"

"what are you talking about? i love all of your songs."

"han," you kiss his cheek with a smile, "you don't have to lie. i know you feel weird about them. and that's okay. but i hope you know, i'm in a different space when i write those, and i will continue to write those. but they don't reflect the truth in any way, okay?"

he narrows his eyes, his lips pouty, "you mean to say i'm not good enough for you to make you happy for the rest of you life?"

"that is not what i said, babe, and you know it," you laugh again, letting him pull you onto his lap. he kisses you once and then twice. "if you say so, love."

you spend your first night engaged to jeonghan the best way possible: talking to him. you lay down next to him, in your pyjamas, feeling fuller than ever. he tells you everything he'd thought or done in the past few months, scrolling through his camera roll for reference and kissing you whenever you'd have a giggling reaction. when it was your turn, you pulled up your notes app with lyrics from the past few months and read some select ones out for him.

"oh, oh, and the way i was gonna introduce this one was like this," you clear your throat as if taking on your stage persona, "this one's called no one's prettier because no one's prettier than my boy."

you fall into a laughing fit with jeonghan, a slight blush on his cheeks when he pulls you close, "someone's down bad for me, huh?"

"yes, sir, i am," you say back, smugly, "i love my boy, sorry, my fiancé so much and i just can't shut the fuck about him."

"god, say that again."

"what? that i can't shut the fuck up about my pretty fiancé? my adorable loverboy? my honest and reliable husband?" the last word feels so right on your tongue when uttered for jeonghan, even though you'd never said it before.

"you're my everything, love," mumbles jeonghan with a big smile, kissing you sqaure on the mouth.

–

"...so the past few months have been a rough trek for the band," you speak into the microphone, looking onto the solemn crowd with a soft smile, "and when i say the band, i really just mean me. i think i aged by like ten years." the crowd laughs.

"but i came out stronger, and more engaged than ever," you wiggle your left hand at the crowd, throwing a smile at jeonghan at the front, watching with a smitten grin. "so here's a new song i wrote. it's called everything because my love is everything to me."

when your set ends, you rush to jeonghan's arms and before you can ask him he'd liked the new song, he kisses your hands. "that was perfect, love. i've never felt more seen by a song."

you let him shower you with kisses as you walk him through the lyrics a little. you're in the middle of explaining the bridge when you're interrupted by a call of your name.

"y/n?"

you turn around to find wonbin standing before with a rose in his hand. "oh, hi, wonbin!"

jeonghan doesn't do anything to hide the dislike on his face for the man. after all, you'd told him about everything that happened that night at the club and had barely managed to calm him down after. "hey," he nods at jeonghan who simply raises his brows at him.

wonbin glances at jeonghan's arm around your waist and sighs. "congratulations on your engagement, y/n," he holds out the rose, "and i'm sorry about everything that happened with us. i hope you know it's only because i have nothing but admiration for you. and maybe one day–"

"thank you for your kind words, wonbin," jeonghan cuts him off, taking the rose and handing it to you with a small smile. "but we need to be going somewhere. sorry. see you around. maybe at the wedding?"

as you walk away from wonbin, you chuckle at jeonghan, "didn't know you were still worked up about that guy?"

"of course i am! he tried to take advantage of you in a hard time! i'm just too pretty to get into a fight or i would've thrown hands long ago."

you laugh as you kiss him on the cheek, "right, of course. my baby, let's go home."

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literaryvein-reblogs · 5 months ago

Text

Archaic Words: Winter

for your next poem/story

Bisnewid - covered with snow

Blenky - to snow a little

Blunk - to snow

Cassabully - the wintercress

Clamp - a mound of earth lined with straw to keep potatoes, beetroot, or turnips through the winter

Clart - a flake of snow when it is large and stick to the clothes

Common house - that part of a monastery in which a fire was kept for the monks to warm themselves during the winter

Downfall - a fall of hail, rain, or snow

Feeding storm - a constant snow

Flawghtis - flakes of snow

Flight - a light fall of snow

Flipe - a flake of snow

Glottening - a temporary melting of ice or snow

Greymin - a light fall of snow, just enough to cover the ground

Land cress - wintercress

Mart - an ox or cow killed at Martinmas, and dried for winter use

Midwinter - Christmas

Pinfallow - winter fallow

Skogger - the leg of an old stocking, used as a kind of gaiter in snow time

Snapdragon - a domestic amusement among young folks in winter; raisins are put into a large dish with brandy, which is set fire to. The party stand round the table, and boldly snap out and eat the blazing plums. This must be done quickly and boldly, leaving it optional whether you burn your fingers or your mouth. A little salt flung into the weakened flame heightens the sport, by giving a very cadaverous aspect to the countenance; and has farther the good effect of averting any risk of the liquor being drunk.

Snow bones - remnants of snow left after a thaw

Stivven - a road said to be so full of snow as to be impassable

Vante - a winter trap for birds, made of willow

Winter day - the winter season

Winter weeds - those small weeds in corn, which survive and flourish during the winter

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs Words Related to Winter ⚜ Word List: Winter

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wolfbluebird · 5 days ago

Text

The Thirst and the Thaw

WandaNat x Fem!Vampire!reader

(No use of Y/N)

Summary: In the quiet isolation of a snow-laden Finnish safe house, the hunger you’ve been denying grows too loud to ignore. With your blood supply gone and the instinct clawing at your control, Wanda and Natasha offer what you fear to take—themselves. What begins as a desperate attempt to survive spirals into a near tragedy, and you’re left reeling from the monster you nearly became. But even in the aftermath, even through fear and failure, they don’t let you go. A story of blood, guilt, and the kind of love that holds on—no matter what you become.

TW: Graphic depictions of blood and feeding, Descriptions of near-feral hunger and loss of control, Brief depiction of self-loathing and guilt, Implied past trauma, Threat of violence (non-sexual, vampire-related), Reader injures a loved one under duress, Recovery from a traumatic incident

(Men and minors dni)

The silence in the Finnish woods was so thick it pressed against the walls of the safe house like snow-laden branches. In the beginning, it had been welcome—quiet, peaceful, a relief after the chaos of the mission. A safe house nestled in a forgotten stretch of forest, shielded by layers of magic and off-the-books S.H.I.E.L.D. protocols. You’d spent the first few days in a cocoon of blankets, cocoa, and low murmurs between Wanda and Natasha as the three of you healed. But that calm had curdled now.

It started with the ache behind your eyes. A slow, steady pulse. You told yourself it would pass—you were strong, trained, and disciplined. But strength didn’t negate biology. And biology was getting harder to ignore.

By day five, the blood supply you had packed for yourself was gone.

You hadn’t said anything at first. You could get by, you told yourself. You could last another few days. But your body disagreed. Hunger started to gnaw at you with sharp, insistent teeth. It made you restless. Pacing the small cabin like a caged thing. Waking in the middle of the night with your fangs extended, breath ragged, jaw clenched so tightly it felt like it might crack. You didn’t trust yourself—not anymore.

And they knew.

Wanda had caught your gaze lingering too long on her neck. Natasha had seen your hands trembling when you reached for the kettle. They weren’t stupid. You weren’t subtle. So it wasn’t a surprise when, on the sixth night, they cornered you in the living room.

You were sat near the fire, knees drawn up to your chest, too tired to pretend you weren’t freezing from the inside out. Wanda sat on the rug in front of you, her hand warm where it touched your shin. Natasha stood behind her, arms crossed, expression soft but serious.

“You need to feed,” Wanda said gently. “We can see it.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, and the words came out cracked.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “You’re not. And you know it.”

You looked away, guilt a stone in your throat. “Even if I needed it… I’m not feeding from either of you. That’s not up for discussion.”

Wanda tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly. “Why not?”

“Because I could hurt you,” you snapped, more harshly than intended. You sighed, running a hand over your face. “You don’t know what it’s like when I lose control. I—I’ve never fed from someone I love before. If I take too much, if I don’t stop, it could—” You swallowed hard. “It could kill you.”

A long pause. Then Natasha stepped forward, kneeling beside Wanda.

“We’re not afraid of you,” she said. “We’ve faced worse things than a bite.”

“It’s not just a bite,” you said quietly. “It’s instinct. It’s hunger. It’s—” You shook your head. “It’s not safe.”

Wanda reached for your hand, lacing her fingers with yours. “It’s not safe for you either. You’re getting worse. Your pupils are blown, your body’s shaking, and you haven’t slept. If this goes on another day, you’ll snap and hurt someone anyway. Maybe one of us. Maybe yourself.”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Natasha leaned in then, her voice low. “If this was me, and I needed something only you two could give, would you let me suffer out of pride?”

You winced. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” she said softly. “But it’s true.”

You looked between them—your girls. Your beautiful, brave, infuriating girls. Wanda, whose touch had become your anchor, whose magic warmed the air around her like sunlight. Natasha, whose sharp edges you had somehow learned to hold without bleeding. They were offering something sacred. Trust. Willingness. Love.

Your fangs ached in your mouth. You wanted to say no. You wanted to hold onto the last shreds of restraint. But you were so tired. And they were still there. Still choosing you.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Okay. Natasha first.”

You didn’t miss the quick flicker of relief in both of their eyes—relief that you’d finally agreed, that you were still lucid enough to choose—but it made your chest ache. They shouldn’t have had to offer themselves like this. But they had. For you.

Natasha’s movements were steady as she joined you on the edge of the bed, pushing up the sleeve of her soft black long-sleeve until her forearm was bare. Her skin was pale in the golden light of the oil lamp, marred here and there by fading bruises and healed scars—each one a story you already knew by heart. But now she was offering something new. Something sacred.

You stared at the soft, vulnerable place just above her wrist, where the veins pulsed visibly under the skin. Your fangs were already out, no longer able to hide themselves. Your jaw ached from holding back. Hunger roared in your gut like a storm, but your fingers were gentle as they wrapped around her arm.

“I need you to tell me the second it’s too much,” you said. “Don’t wait. Don’t try to tough it out.”

“I will,” Natasha murmured. “I trust you.”

That undid you more than anything else.

You lifted her wrist toward your mouth slowly, reverently. You kissed the skin first, a soft brush of your lips, and she shivered under the contact. Then, without letting yourself hesitate, you sank your fangs in.

Her blood hit your tongue like heat and iron and smoke. Rich. Potent. Alive. For a moment, everything else vanished. The cold. The fear. The guilt. It was just her, pouring warmth into your starved body, and you drank with slow, careful pulls. The taste of her curled through you like silk and fire, and you had to close your eyes against the rush of sensation.

Natasha didn’t flinch. Her breathing deepened slightly, but she stayed still beneath your mouth, her fingers curling gently into your hair, anchoring you. You let that tether hold you in place, one hand pressed flat to her thigh, grounding yourself in the solid warmth of her. You listened—to her heartbeat, to her breath, to the way her body responded—and you stopped the exact moment the rhythm changed. Before her pulse weakened. Before the hunger in you could try to drown the part of you that loved her.

You withdrew slowly, licked the wound closed with care, then pressed your forehead to her wrist, your whole body trembling.

“Fuck,” you breathed, the aftertaste of her still burning through your veins. “I’m sorry. That was… more intense than I thought it’d be.”

She was pale, but smiling. “It’s alright,” she said, her voice low and steady. “I’m alright. I’ve had worse bites.”

You huffed a laugh, but there was too much emotion behind it. You couldn’t meet her eyes as you reached for the clean cloth Wanda offered, dabbing gently at the two tiny punctures before applying a plaster. The bandage was ridiculous—a little cartoon fox from a first-aid kit meant for minor scrapes—but Natasha grinned when you smoothed it into place.

“Fierce predator,” she teased, voice wry. “Absolutely terrifying.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up.”

She leaned in and kissed your cheek anyway.

And then Wanda held out her hand.

Her wrist was already bared, slender and trembling slightly, but her gaze was calm. Determined. You stared at her, something primal twisting deep in your gut.

“Are you sure?” you asked, voice strained. “Yours is… different. I can feel it.”

Wanda nodded. “I want this. I trust you too.”

You hesitated. But only for a moment. Because the truth was, you wanted her too. You needed her.

You took her wrist with both hands, cradling it like something precious. You pressed a kiss there too, reverent as a prayer, then let your fangs pierce her skin.

Her blood hit you like fire.

It’s not like Natasha’s. Wanda’s blood is chaos and sunlight, grief and power, every emotion she’s ever swallowed down now pouring into your mouth. You drink—and the taste drags you under. It’s too much. She tastes like love. Like your name whispered in the dark. Like the first time she held your face and didn’t flinch. You feel her in every inch of you—her magic threads through your veins, golden and wild, binding you to her in ways that make your chest ache.

She gasps. Her head tips back.

And you don’t stop.

You can’t.

You’ve never tasted anything like this—sweet and aching and full of memories. Her childhood. Her loneliness. You feel it all, and your hands grip her tighter, anchoring yourself to her like she’s the only thing holding you together.

Her breathing stutters. Her fingers twitch against your shoulder. But you don’t stop.

Her heartbeat falters.

And then Natasha is there.

She yanks you back, hard, her arms around your chest like iron bands as she tears you away from Wanda.

You scream—no words, just sound—and fight her, fangs still bared, hunger still wild. But Natasha holds you. Holds you like she’s done before. Like she will always do. Her breath is in your ear, fierce and shaking.

“Stop. Stop, baby. She’s done. That’s enough. You’ve got to come back now.”

Your hands are fists in her shirt. Your vision is red at the edges. You can still feel Wanda’s pulse against your lips, her blood singing in your body.

But Natasha is stronger.

She keeps whispering. Keeps anchoring you.

And finally—finally—you come back to yourself.

Wanda is on the bed, curled in on herself, pale and shivering. But her eyes are open. She’s conscious. She’s looking at you with something that hurts worse than any wound—trust.

You drop to your knees at the bedside, trembling. Your fangs are still out, your breath ragged.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to go that far. I’m so sorry, I—”

“Shh,” Wanda murmurs, her voice hoarse but gentle. “You stopped. That’s what matters.”

“I didn’t,” you choke. “She stopped me.”

Natasha moves beside you, kneeling, her hand warm against your back. “You would’ve,” she says. “You just needed help. That doesn’t make you a monster.”

“I could’ve—” You don’t finish the sentence. You can’t.

Wanda reaches for your hand, her grip weak but insistent. “You didn’t,” she says. “I’m still here. And I’m not afraid of you.”

Her thumb strokes over your knuckles, and your throat tightens.

Natasha presses a kiss to your shoulder. “We’re not leaving you to carry this alone. Not now, not ever.”

You hold Wanda’s hand like it’s a lifeline, and Natasha wraps herself around both of you, pulling you close until the three of you are tangled together on the floor, heartbeats mismatched but steady.

You lick the bite marks on Wanda’s wrist closed with trembling care, and when you press two plasters over them—matching ones this time, little cartoon foxes—she smiles.

But you don’t.

Because as the haze lifts, and the rush of blood dulls into something quieter, colder, realer—you finally see Wanda. Really see her. Her skin is too pale, her body curled small with exhaustion, dark circles under her eyes like bruises. You had done that. You had almost—

Your stomach twists, still not full, still not satisfied, and that’s what does it.

That clawing, awful part of you that whispers, More. Just a little more. One more pull, and you’ll feel whole again.

You jolt back from her like she’s on fire. The instinct flares and fizzles, shame rising like bile in your throat.

“I can’t—” you start, voice raw. “I need to go. Just for tonight. I—I need to be away from you.”

Natasha blinks, still crouched beside you. “What? Why?”

“I’m not safe,” you say quietly, backing away until your spine hits the wall. “I thought I was. I thought I could handle it. But I couldn’t. And I still—” You stop yourself before admitting just how badly you want to taste Wanda again. “I don’t trust myself. And I’m not putting either of you at risk.”

Wanda pushes herself up onto an elbow, barely steady. “Please don’t do that. You stopped. You came back.”

“I didn’t. She did.” You nod toward Natasha. “If she hadn’t been here—”

“But I was here,” Natasha says. “And I will be. We’re not going to let you spiral alone.”

“I can’t be around her tonight,” you say firmly, staring at your own bloodstained hands. “I still want it. That should terrify you.”

“It doesn’t,” Wanda whispers, but she’s too tired to fight you on it. And that breaks you more.

You back slowly toward the guest room—tiny, windowless, just a cot and a bolt on the inside of the door.

“I’ll lock myself in,” you say. “Just for tonight. I need to reset. I need to remember I’m still me.”

They don’t stop you, not really. Natasha watches you go with a tight jaw and damp lashes. Wanda leans her head against her knees, fighting the fog of blood loss. Neither of them begs. Neither of them turns away.

They trust you. Even now.

You shut the door. You slide the bolt.

And then you sink to the floor, pressing your back to the wall, fists clenched, fangs still aching behind your lips.

You don’t sleep. Not that night.

But you sit in the dark with the guilt, and the hunger, and the terrifying reminder of what you almost became.

You sit with it because it’s yours to carry. Because if you’re ever going to earn the right to touch them again, you have to know that next time—next time—you’ll stop yourself.

The light in the safe house was grey and pale when you finally stirred. Morning, maybe. Or just the slow thaw of northern dawn through snow-heavy clouds. You hadn’t slept—not really. Maybe you dozed in fits, but your dreams were sharp and red-edged, and the hunger was still a dull throb in your throat, echoing beneath your skin.

You hadn’t moved from the floor. Still curled where you’d collapsed the night before, knees to chest, your back pressed to the wall like you were trying to sink through it and vanish entirely. The cot remained untouched. You hadn’t deserved the comfort of it.

There was a knock at the door.

Soft. Familiar.

“Moya lyubov’?” Natasha’s voice. Careful. Testing. “You awake?”

You didn’t answer at first. But you heard the sound of her settling just on the other side of the door, her back sliding down the wood, mirroring your posture like she knew exactly how you were sitting.

“I know what you’re doing,” she said after a moment. “Locking yourself away like this. Punishing yourself. You think that’s protecting us.”

You closed your eyes.

“It’s not.”

There was silence for a few seconds, then a second body joined her on the other side. Wanda’s presence was unmistakable—like warmth easing in through the cracks, her magic brushing softly beneath the door like fingertips reaching for yours.

“I’m alright,” she said gently. “Really. I slept a little. Nat fed me. I’m just tired.”

You could hear the way she leaned her head against the wood. “But we’re worried about you.”

You buried your face in your arms.

“I nearly killed you,” you said hoarsely. “You’re both acting like that’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Natasha said. “It was scary. But it wasn’t you. It was your hunger. And you came back.”

“I didn’t come back fast enough.”

“You came back,” Wanda echoed. “You stopped before it was too late. That means everything.”

You shook your head, even though they couldn’t see. “It doesn’t mean I’m safe. It means I’m a risk. And I’m not willing to gamble either of you.”

There was a pause.

Then the doorknob rattled gently. Not trying to force it—just testing it.

“You think we’re scared of you?” Natasha asked. “We’ve seen what you are when you lose control. And we still love you. So either let us in, or come out here. Because we’re not going away.”

You hesitated. Everything in you still screamed that you didn’t deserve their softness. That you needed to stay in this box you’d made for yourself. But Wanda’s voice broke through your spiralling thoughts like sunlight through ice.

“I kept reaching for you in my sleep,” she whispered. “Natasha had to hold my hand so I wouldn’t notice you were gone.”

Your chest caved in around her words.

Your fingers trembled as you reached for the bolt, sliding it back with a quiet metallic click. The door creaked open a fraction—and then warm arms were already around you. Natasha pulled you into her chest without hesitation, her hand cradling the back of your head like she’d been waiting all night to do it.

Wanda joined you both a second later, wrapping herself around your waist from behind, her face pressing into your spine, her fingers knotting in the fabric of your shirt like she was afraid you’d disappear again.

“I still want to run,” you whispered, raw. “Even now.”

“But you’re not running,” Natasha murmured. “You opened the door.”

“You let us in,” Wanda said, voice thick. “That’s all we ever needed.”

And you broke.

Right there, in the tiny hallway of a safe house in the woods, you let it all fall—guilt, fear, control. Your girls held you through every ragged breath, every whispered apology, every trembling exhale. They rocked you gently between them, their warmth banishing the cold that had lived in your chest since the night before.

You didn’t feed again that morning. You didn’t need to. You just let them love you.

[Masterlist]

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