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golden-cherry · 2 days ago

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deal - cl16 (49/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Climbing up the mountain can be very freeing.

Warnings: angst (self-doubt, insecurities, mentions of abuse in a relationship, Charles is very insecure about himself), the end is a bit fluffy, but don't expect too much

Word Count: 4.1k

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A/N: I feel like this describes Charles well. I cried when writing this chapter. I hope you like it. feedback is appreciated.

It is the first time in years that Charles has no desire to climb the mountain on those stupid skis.

His feet hurt, he is cold even though the jacket he is wearing is suitable for even colder temperatures, and his hands are so stiff from the frigid air that they painfully curl around his ski poles.

The snow blinds him because of the bright sun, his bones feel heavy, somehow his mouth is so dry that he would like to rinse it with water every five meters.

But maybe that's just because he'd rather be at home in Monaco. Because that's where you are. And there is no place he would rather be right now.

Closing the door behind him and leaving you alone in the apartment was incredibly difficult. He would have loved to put you in his bag and take you with him, but you would only have distracted him from training.

And if he wants to be world champion one day, he can't afford to make any mistakes.

It's been two days since he's seen you and heard your voice. In the morning, when he wakes up and gets ready for the day, you are still fast asleep, and during his training, Andrea has his phone so that Charles can collect his thoughts and stay focused. Only in the evening, when Charles is in bed, he manages to text you a few messages before falling asleep, cell phone in hand, completely exhausted.

He misses you every second.

Before he met you, he would never have imagined that he could miss someone he had only known for a few days so much. He had missed Annika from time to time, after all, he had definitely loved her at some point, but he had never longed for her or anyone else the way he did for you now.

As soon as he has a moment to himself, whether it's in the shower or on the toilet or when Andrea isn't bothering him with calories or carbohydrates or protein for a moment, he misses you so much that he can almost feel the physical distance between you.

But most of all, he misses you in the morning when he wakes up. When he is in that one second when he is neither sleeping nor fully awake. Snuggled up warm in the blanket and against the pillow, where in the evening he imagines it would be your body that he is snuggling up to. And in the morning, for a brief moment, it feels as if you are actually lying next to him, which is why the second he realizes that you are miles away from him hurts the most.

“Are you okay?” Andrea asks, who has slowed down a little to run up the hill next to Charles. ”You're suspiciously quiet.”

Charles, who hasn't realized that he has slowed down at all, looks at his trainer in confusion. “Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?”

Andrea shrugs. ”Usually you're chattering away at me during training. That usually helps you to distract yourself from how exhausting it is.”

He has a point there. Charles pushes himself forward on his skis. “I don't know. This time I don't feel like you're torturing me up this mountain. It's still the same route we usually take, isn't it?” He looks around as if he can recognize the surroundings.

Andrea raises his eyebrows and also picks up the pace. ‘We're in a completely different area, Charles.’ He points to another mountain with his gloved hand.

If his friend hadn't told him, the man from Monaco would never have noticed, so absorbed is he in his thoughts about you. The mountain Andrea is pointing to seems more familiar to him than the one in front of them. And a lot smaller. If they had taken the familiar route, they would have been at the summit long ago.

“You asshole,” Charles curses and wipes his face. ‘Why did you choose a different mountain? And especially one that's higher?”

Andrea can't help but grin. ’You came in second in the championship this year. I'm hoping that if we increase your training, you'll come in first next season and...”

“And what?” Charles interrupts his trainer. "The whole thing is useless if my strategists and the whole team mess up so much during the race. I can train as much as I want. It won't work." He gets so caught up in it that he doesn't notice how quickly he pushes himself up the mountain on his skis.

“Charles –”

“No, Andrea. This whole thing cost me the title. Wrong tires? Last-minute changes in the pit? What the hell?” he gets worked up. He knows that his anger is unfairly directed at the wrong person, after all Andrea is only there for Charles's well-being and not for what happens on the track, but it just comes spilling out. And he can't stop it.

His ski poles dig deep into the white snow, which Charles barely notices. He only sees the summit in front of him and hears Andrea breathing loudly next to him as he continues to complain.

“It's not right that I come in second because of such little things! If I had caused accidents, then at least it would have been my fault and I could have dealt with it more easily,” he says, annoyed. ”But what kind of stupid plans were these, anyway? Even a toddler could come up with a better strategy!”

Andrea, who knows full well that Charles needs to vent his anger, walks quietly beside him and lets the storm pass over him. It's not often that Charles gets this angry. And normally he blames himself, but he certainly doesn't take such serious mistakes on his head.

Charles knows that making mistakes is an inevitable part of competition, and sometimes, they're the difference between standing at the top of the podium and finishing second. Being the runner-up in a championship can feel bittersweet – so close to victory, yet just short of it.

Being second in the championship feels like a mix of pride and frustration. On one hand, Charles has achieved something incredible – outperforming almost everyone, proving his skill and showing that he deserves to sit in the red car with the horse on it. But on the other hand, there's that lingering thought inside of his head – he was so close. The tiniest mistakes, the small miscalculations in his strategies, or someone else having a slightly better day made the difference in the end.

There's this ache inside of him, knowing he was almost the champion. The podium felt different when he looked up at Max Verstappen holding the trophy he desperately craved. Charles felt a lot of things in that moment – disappointment, regret and even anger – at himself, the situation, the team and at the margin that kept him from winning.

“I could have won the title. Max will definitely win the next season too, as strong as Red Bull is. How will I ever live up to my reputation then?” He clenches his jaw. ”I feel like I'm stuck with what I'm doing now. And I'm doing my best, Andrea. I really am. But it's apparently not enough. Do you know how incredibly frustrating that is?”

Being second carries a unique weight – a strange middle ground between triumph and heartbreak. And hell, Charles heart broke with every race that put more distance between his and Max's points. He feels like a failure, like he failed his team, his family and friends. He failed his fans, that support him through every decision he makes on and off track, that defend him whenever he makes a mistake during races.

And it haunts him. What if he had pushed just a little harder, made one less mistake, reacted a second faster? What if he made a different decision that would've outweighed the mistakes his team made? What if he became world champion in the famous red car he worked so hard to get into? The famous red car that his dad loved so much?

Disappointing his dad was the worst part of it all. It was a different kind of pain, heavy and crushing. It's not just about failing at something – Charles feels like he simply isn't good enough. Like he let someone down who believed in him. He could have been champion this year – he was so close to standing on top of the podium. What if he never gets this close to winning? What if he never holds the big trophy in his hands, dedicating it to his dad, who always wanted to see him drive in the Ferrari?

Charles' anger has been building up for so long that he doesn't know where to put it. If only he had concentrated more on the season and hadn't been so distracted by his personal problems -

“And Annika. What a waste of time the whole thing was. I should never have gotten involved with her. I should have ended the relationship when I realized that she wasn't the one. When I realized that I couldn't give her the attention that a healthy relationship requires.”

Charles would never admit it, but Annika’s betrayal in their relationship cut deeper than expected. It’s not just about broken promises – it’s about broken trust, the foundation of any meaningful connection. It shook everything Charles believed to be true about Annika – or love in general.

The worst part wasn’t the act itself or that he caught them right in the act, but the realization that someone he trusted with his heart made the choice to hurt him. After the break-up he questioned everything – was any of it real? Was Annika lying to him the whole time? Even after everything, the wounds linger.

Some betrayals are survivable with time and effort, but others leave scars that never fully heal. They change people – it changed Charles. It hardened his heart, made love feel dangerous to him and made him create walls where there once was openness.

He guarded himself like a survival instinct. At first, it was solely for protection – he told himself that if he didn’t let anyone in, nobody could hurt him. The walls became his shield, keeping out disappointment, rejection, and the risk of being vulnerable again.

But over the course of the weeks, Charles noticed the walls he put up brick by brick didn’t just keep the pain out – they kept everything out. Love. Connection. The chance to feel something real. Hell, he didn’t even tell his Maman that he was back home in Monaco. He pushed his family away, his friends, acting cold and distant – not because he didn’t want love, but because he’s so scared of what happened when he let someone else in.

It took Charles some time to figure out the truth, that the walls didn’t keep him safe and sound – they kept him stuck. They stopped him from healing, from growing, from experiencing the things that make life meaningful. But he was so scared of breaking them down when it took him so long to put them up, that he didn’t know what to do when he met you.

It was terrifying, letting you in slowly and hesitantly. He’s spent so long guarding himself, convincing himself that no one except his close ones can be trusted, that it almost felt unnatural to let you in. At first, he resisted, kept his distance. But the fact that you didn’t even know who he was felt so good, made him feel safe to share his story with you and then – you stayed. You didn’t push too hard, but you didn’t walk away either.

Surely, this friendship has had it’s ups and downs, but this is what happenes when two people, who protected themselves so much that they become too careful, too hesitant to let someone in fully.

And instead of forcing your way through, you waited. You were there. You proved in small, consistent ways, that you’re not like the woman who made him built those walls in the first place.

And then, without realizing it, he stopped expecting the worst. He let you see his wounds, his fears, his past, and instead of running, you stayed. You stayed with him through awkward dinner conversations about his ex, you stayed with him when he didn’t correct his family about your relationship status, you stayed when he overstepped the boundaries of your friendship. Your gentle touch, your honest conversations while burning Annika’s things.

You stayed when he revealed to you who he really is. You see him – the real him – and don’t flinch at what you see. Little by little, cracks form in his defenses. He finds himself wanting to trust again, to love again, even though it scares him to death.

When you look at him, it feels like sunlight creeping through the cracks in the fortress he thought were unbreakable. It was unsettling at first after being in the dark for some time. But you didn’t break down his walls in a dramatic, earth-shattering way.

It was quiet. Subtle. It sneaked up to him in moments he didn’t even realize – they way you looked at him when he played your song on the piano in the bookshop, when you let him hold you while you cried like his arms were the safest place in the world, when you showed him that you want him for who he is.

But even though you broke down most of his walls, he still can’t admit that you’re all he needs.

He can’t let you in fully after what Annika did to him, he can’t let you touch him like he wants you to. He can’t let himself feel so much for you because what if those feelings he has for you – the feelings he swore he’d never harbour for anyone again – are not enough for you?

What if he gives you his all and you decide that it’s not enough? That he is not enough? He can’t tell you why he doesn’t want you to touch him, because what if you’ll see him differently? What if the things he wants, he needs, are different from what you want?

He feels like he isn’t good enough. The scars Annika left on him made him question his worth, his value, his ability to be loved. There are moments where he feels too far gone, too damaged, not strong enough to break free from the fear of losing you that he’d rather keep you at arms length hurting himself than push you away and out of his life.

He can’t let you touch him after Annika, because sex with her felt wrong, like he was broken because he wanted different things than her. Because he craved intimacy like his life depended on it, the safety that comes with it, but it always felt like he needed to deliver, even if he didn’t want to. It felt like a chore, no gentle touches or loving words, only demanding hands and lips and thighs and he swore to himself he’ll never let it happen again.

If you don’t touch him at all, there’s no chance you could hurt him like that.

He’d rather give you all he’s able to give instead of letting you return anything.

“I could have waited for…”

“Charles.” Andreas‘ voice is gentle and soothing, in contrast to Charles’. When the man from Monaco looks at his friend, he smiles at him. ”We're here.”

The wind howls at the summit, biting and cold, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel it. He can’t feel anything except the weight that presses down on his chest. He stands there on top oft he world – and all the space in the world couldn’t quiet the chaos inside him.

Andrea chose this route to help Charles clear his head, the mountain was supposed to be his escape, his victory. He climbed every inch of it, each slide of his skis pushing him further from the mess he feels inside. The view from the top is actually breathtaking: endless stretches of jagged peaks, skies that feel closer than ever. He should feel something – pride, accomplishment, freedom. But instead, there’s only the overwhelming silence that gnawed at him.

For a moment, everything is still. He pulls his beanie and glasses from his head, closing his eyes and trying to ground himself in the beauty around him, but the images, the memories, everything – it all comes flooding back. The things he can’t outrun. The words that had been sad. The choices that had left him fractured and alone.

A sob caught in his throat, sharp and unexpected and he falls to his knees in the white snow at his feet. The tries to fight it, but the tears come anyway – slow at first, then faster and harder. They burn against the cold wind, mixing with the salt of the sweat on his skin – and he can’t stop them.

They stand for everything he hasn’t been able to say, everything he has be scared to face. He thought he could bury it, hide it behind the walls he built, behind the distance from it all.

His hand tremble on his thighs, his chest tightening with every broken breath. His vision blurred, the edges oft he mountain fading into the background. It doesn’t matter that he’s at the top – he feels smaller than ever. The tears slip down his cheeks like a rush of a river too long dammed.

„I’m not enough“, he whispered almost unaudibly. A confession only the mountains and his friend could hear. „I’m never going to be enough.“

The world stretched out before him, magnificent and indifferent, and in that moment, he realized that being on top oft he mountain didn’t mean escaping it all. He had climbed all this way, but he couldn’t outrun himself. The hurt, the mistakes, the weight of everything he’d buried deep inside.

He doesnt flinch when he feels Andrea’s hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing and reassuring him that whatever he feels right now is okay. That the tears that fall down onto the snow have their right to exist after being bottled up for so long.

The sobs faded, leaving him gasping for air in the stillness of the summit. He wiped his face, trying to wipe away the brokennes, but it lingered in his chest. His hands still trembling from the release, from the rawness that had bubbled to the surface. For a long moment, he just sits there, the wind biting at him, the emptiness inside him as a vast as the world stretched out before him.

And then it hit him, like a sudden punch that knocked the breath from his lungs.

You.

Your laugh. Your smile. The way you always seem to know what he’s thinking, the way you care in the quietest ways – how you’ve been there for him, even when he pushed you away. How, despite everything, you stayed.

He tried so hard to tell himself that he’s better off alone, that he doesn’t need anyone else to fill the empty spaces inside him. He thought he could bury his feelings, run from the truth. He has told himself that love was something to fear, something that could trap him, break him, leave him just as broken as he’d been before.

But now, sitting on top of the world, it all makes sense.

He loves you. He always has. He can feel it in every part of him, the truth that has been there all along, buried under layers of fear and pride. It’s not something he can outrun, not anymore. He can’t ignore the way his heart always beats faster when you’re near, the way everything seems to fall into place when you smile at him, the way your presence has been the one thing that feels like home.

The moment of realization hits him like a wave, sudden and overwhelming. It’s undeniable.

He loves you.

Not in the casual, passing way he once tried to convice himself was enough for his relationship with Annika, but in a deeper, truer sense. It’s always been you – only you. Right from the start when the both of you stood in the small apartment.

But the weight o fit, the sheer force of that truth, felt like it could crush him, especially when he realizes how long he’s been running from it.

His heart races, pounding hard in his chest, but it isn’t the kind of excitement he thought would come with such a revelation. Instead, it is quiet terror. The terror of feeling too much. Of feeling anything at all.

His breath comes in shallow gasps as the cold mountain air cuts through him. It isn’t the altitude or the wind that chills him – it’s the fear of being too vulnerable again. Of letting anyone close enough to hurt him. The thought of telling you, of exposing his raw, vulnerable part of himself, feels like standing on the edge of a cliff with no way to climb back down.

He stares out over the vast horizon, the world stretching out endlessly beneath him, and for a moment, he considers it. The possibility of going back, of telling you everything he has just realized. But the thought of your eyes on him, the weight of the words, the vulnerability—it‘s too much. Too raw. Too dangerous.

So, he stays silent. He stays with the truth, buried deep inside of him. The love he feels for you is now his secret, locked away like a fragile thing, too delicate to share. He can‘t find the courage to let it out—not now, not after everything that had happened.

But there is something about knowing, about feeling it — just knowing that he can love again — that makes the world feel a little less heavy. It isn’t perfect, and it doesn‘t fix everything, but it is enough. For the first time in a long time, he doesn‘t feel so broken. He isn’t empty. He is filled with something — something soft, something he thought was gone forever.

Maybe he isn’t ready to tell you. Maybe he will never be ready. But the knowledge that love still exists in him — that it can still find him, even after everything — is enough to hold onto for now. It isn’t a victory, not in the way he wants, but it is a beginning. And in that, there is a quiet peace. A peace that, despite all the fear and hesitation, he coul still feel, still hope.

And that, for the moment, is enough.

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mylovesstuffs · 2 days ago

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OT13 reaction to their s/o suggesting going raw for the first time

Request: May I request something a little spicy SVT reaction to their partner tell them they are on birth control now and suggested on using no condoms for the first time. (if they both agree) P.S You have such good writing!

A/N: I'm not sure if I did this justice, but my writing style shifts depending on my mood and the request. This time, it just felt right to make most of them take the lead—so here we are. And ofc, they’d be thrilled to finally experience this without any barriers, but y’all, be smart and stay safe, alright? NOT PROOFREAD!

Content: MDNI ! reader is on birth control, heavy implications, mild degradation & possessiveness, several members take on dominant/assertive roles, mature language, grip-tightening, caging, and restraint, raw/unprotected sex implication, loss of control themes. Lmk if I missed anything

Seungcheol: His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mix of surprise and something primal. "Are you sure?" His voice is low, just above a whisper, almost a growl as he steps closer, his hand cupping your face, thumb brushing over your cheek. "You've got to know this means something,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. There's an intensity in his stare is deeper than lust. His fingers trace the curve of your jaw before tilting your chin up, "We can take it slow, but I trust you." His lips press to your forehead, lingering for a moment, as if he's grounding himself of what's about to happen. His hands find your waist, his grip firm. "Tell me if you're ready,” he whispers, his voice laced with restraint, as if he's holding himself back. But you see it_the simmering desire in his eyes, the hunger behind his control.

Jeonghan: The moment you speak, Jeonghan's expression falters, his eyes darkening with a barely contained desire. His fingers reach up to trace along your jaw, slow, sending shivers through you. "Are you sure, angel?" he murmurs, yes he'll angel you in this moment his voice softer now, thoughtful, but there's an edge to it. "Because once we do this, there's no way we can go back to how things were, I'll love it." His lips brush against yours, feather-light at first, teasing. "I want you to be all in," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin, "to feel every sensation with me." Then, without warning, he closes the distance, capturing your lips fully, deeply, drawing a gasp from you. His hands skim down your sides, a slow, lazy exploration. But you can feel the tension in his body, the way he's holding himself back, waiting for you to pull him closer, to give in completely to him.

Joshua: Joshua steps toward you, his gentle eyes now filled with dark clouds, with lust, love and longing. His fingers brush against your cheek, his touch too soft for the way his smirk is beginning to form. "If you're sure..." his voice trails off, as if giving you one last chance to reconsider, but the glint in his eyes tells you he already knows your answer. Then, before you can react, he's pushing you back onto the bed, hovering over you in an instant, caging you in beneath him. His lips crash onto yours, slow but demanding, as his teeth graze your lower lip, a light bite before he deepens the kiss. His hands slide under your blouse, fingertips tracing over your skin exploring every little definition. "You feel so warm," he murmurs, his lips now trailing down your jaw, your neck. "I've been waiting for this." His voice is smooth, restrained but utterly consuming.

Jun: Jun's lips curl into a teasing smile, but there's a pretty undeniable sharpness in his gaze. "Is that what you want?" His voice is smooth, almost playful, but there’s a darkness underneath—to say the least, it’s possessive. You nod, barely breathing as he steps closer, your bodies now only inches apart. He watches you carefully, like a predator watching its prey. "Say it," he demands, his fingers gripping your waist. "I want to hear you say it" Once the words leave your lips, the atmosphere shifts. The teasing glint in his eyes fades into more serious. Then, in one swift move, he pushes you back against the wall, his hand tilting your chin up before his lips crash into yours. His kisses are intense, his other hand sliding down, unbuttoning your shirt one-handed with an ease that makes your breath hitch. "You make it too easy for me" he murmurs against your lips, before pressing another deep kiss to them, his grip tightening ever so slightly, just enough to make you shiver.

Hoshi: His grin shifts into something raw immediately. His fingers brush against your arm before trailing up to your collarbone, his touch feather-light but burning all the same. "You want that, huh?" His voice is teasing, but there's a weight behind it. His smirk grows as he watches you, waiting, savoring your reaction. You barely have time to respond before he's stepping forward, walking you back until the back of your legs hit the bed. "Sit," he instructs, voice low. You obey, heart hammering as he crawls onto the mattress, kneeling before you. He leans in, close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips but not quite kissing you yet. His hands slide over your thighs, slow, deliberate. Then, with a smirk, he says, "Take it off." When you hesitate slightly flustered cause of his so forward reaction, his fingers tilt your chin up. "Oh, come on," he coaxes. "Don't get shy on me now," he says as a low chuckle escapes him, his fingers trail down your arm. "I want to see you," his lips brushing against your ear, gaze never wavers, as he leans in just a little closer, his warmth pulling you in like gravity.

Wonwoo: His face remains impassive at first, but there's a shift in the air. His fingers graze your arm, soft yet searing. "If we do this, it's not just a step... it's a leap," he says, his voice a quiet storm. He leans in, lips hovering just over your skin, breath warm and intoxicating. "You sure you want to cross that line with me?" There's something about the way he says it—low, deliberate, a dare wrapped in restraint that makes you want him even more. His grip on your wrist tightens slightly, just enough to make you gasp. But then you nod. And suddenly, there's no hesitation. His mouth crashes onto yours, ferocity unraveling between you both in waves. He lifts you effortlessly, pressing you against the nearest surface as his lips trail down your neck, fingers tracing paths of fire along your skin. "You have no idea what you've just started," he whispers, voice thick with lust and danger. Your breath hitches as his grip tightens, anchoring you against him. His teeth graze your pulse point, a teasing scrape before his tongue soothes the sting, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His hands roam lower, fingers pressing into your hips with just enough force to make you shiver. "You still have time to change your mind," he murmurs, though the way his body molds against yours tells a different story. His eyes lock onto yours, waiting for the final word that will unravel everything between you.

Woozi: Woozi doesn't react immediately, but the way his body stills speaks volumes. His eyes flicker with something intimate yet laced with danger. Slowly, he steps forward, erasing the space between you until your breaths are mingling. "You sure?" His voice carries a weight that sinks into your skin. His fingers brush against your waist, tentative at first, but when you don't pull away, his grip tightens. "I'll be gentle... but you'll feel every bit of me." It's a promise that makes your pulse stutter. Then, with no warning, he moves. His hands find your hips as he pushes you down onto the mattress, hovering over you, his smirk barely visible in the dim light. "You knew what you were doing when you said that," he murmurs, his lips tracing down your jaw. His body presses against yours, liquid seeping through the fabric of your underwear. "No going back now." His fingers trail along the hem of your shirt, teasing, testing, before slipping beneath the material, his touch searing against your skin. His lips follow the path of his hands, leaving ghostly kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, marking every inch as his own. The heat between you coils tighter, your heartbeat matching his as he meets your gaze and in the next second, the last barrier on you is gone.

Dokyeom: Kyeom blinks, as if processing your words, and for a split second, you see flashes in his eyes—excitement, hesitation and hunger beneath it all. His hands find your shoulders, grounding both of you, as he exhales slowly. "If we do this..." he swallows, his voice dropping an octave, "...I won't ever go back." His grip tightens just slightly, enough to make your breath hitch. "I trust you, but I want to make sure you trust me too." His lips brush against your ear, his voice a whisper, soft yet laced that makes your stomach coil. The moment you give him the green light, the hesitation vanishes. In one swift movement, he throws himself at you, knocking you onto the bed with a breathless laugh that quickly turns into something more heavier. His hands explore, his touch reverent but eager. "You don't even realize what you've done to me," he murmurs against your skin before his mouth captures yours completely.

Mingyu: Mingyu's smile falters—not in hesitation, but in something else entirely. The puppy boyishness drains away, replaced by something raw. His fingers find the curve of your neck, trailing down slowly, deliberately, as he tilts his head. "You sure you're not playing around, are you?" His voice is softer than expected, but there's a warning. He steps closer, so close that your bodies almost touch, and the air between you grows heavier. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip before he leans in, capturing your mouth in a deep kiss. His hands grip your waist, firm yet careful. "I'll make sure you're okay," he breathes against your lips, "but once we do this... it's just us. No second thoughts." His body presses against yours, his warmth intoxicating. "I'm not going back." Then, with a smirk that's nothing short of sinful, he adds, "And if you think I'm stopping anytime soon... you're sorely mistaken." Before you can react, he moves swiftly and unrelenting, pinning you beneath him that steals your breath. His lips find yours again, demanding and feverish, his hands roaming memorizing every inch of you. "You started this," he murmurs against your skin, his voice a husky whisper. "Now, let me finish it."

Minghao: Minghao's eyes darken, his composed exterior cracking just enough to let something else slip through. He tilts his head, watching you carefully, calculating every flicker of emotion in your face, "Sure." His fingers brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering, almost possessive. He lets the silence stretch, watching your reaction, waiting for that final confirmation. Then, when he sees the resolve in your eyes, his lips curve into a slow smirk. "You sure you're ready for this?" His voice drops lower, softer, but it sends a shiver down your spine. "Because I don't do things halfway." His grip tightens on your waist as he pulls you flush against him, his mouth ghosting over yours before finally claiming it in a kiss that leaves no room for hesitation. "Guess we're doing this raw," he mutters against your lips, and the sheer confidence in his tone makes your breath hitch. He draws back slightly, eyes dark with lust and a hint of playful mischief. "Hope your pill work, sweetheart. Because pulling out isn't exactly my strong suit." He punctuates his words with a sharp nip at your bottom lip, followed by a sensual swipe of his tongue.

Seungkwan: Seungkwan's expression shifts from surprise to darkness, his brightness dimming into something far more intense. His eyes narrow, a slow smirk playing at the edges of his lips. "So, you really want this?" His voice is teasing, but laced with an intensity that mirrors the dark undercurrent of the situation. He steps forward, crowding into your space, his fingers skimming over your waist with a feather-light touch that makes you shiver. "You know there's no going back once I start indulging, right?" His voice dips lower as he presses his lips to yours, slow at first, teasing until his grip tightens, pulling you flush against him. His breath is hot against your skin when he speaks again, his fingers tracing patterns along your sides. "Don't look at me like that unless you're ready to take everything I'm about to give you."

Vernon: For a moment, Vernon just looks at you, his eyes searching for yours, as if giving you one last chance to take it back. But then, something shifts—his gaze softens, but the flicker of danger remains, a smoldering heat beneath the surface. "So... we're doing this for real?" His voice is low, yet it reverberates through you. His fingers brush against your cheek, barely touching, before sliding down to tilt your chin up toward him. "I won't rush you. But if this happens..." He pauses, leaning in so his lips ghost over yours, his breath warm against your skin. "You're not going to forget it." He seals his promise with a kiss, His lips move against yours slowly at first, teasing, testing, like he’s savoring the anticipation crackling between you. But then, his grip tightens on your hips, pulling you flush against him, and all restraint shatters. The kiss deepens, turning hungrier, more demanding, his tongue sweeping against yours. His hands roam, tracing over your back, slipping under your shirt, fingertips grazing heated skin. "You have no idea what you’ve just started," he murmurs against your lips. Then, in one swift motion, he guides you back, your body sinking into the mattress as he hovers over you. His gaze locks onto yours, "Last chance," he says, his fingers trailing down your arm, his weight pressing just enough to keep you beneath him. "Tell me you want this." His breath fans over your lips, waiting. But the moment you whisper yes, everything else disappears.

Dino: For once, Dino hesitates. His energy is tempered. His eyes search yours, his hands settling at your sides. "Are you sure?" His voice is quieter than usual, lacking its playfulness, yet there's an undeniable intensity there. You nod, and the hesitation melts away, replaced by hunger. His grip tightens as he pulls you in, his forehead resting against yours for just a second like he's holding onto the last thread of control he has. "If we do this..." He swallows, his voice husky now, "It changes everything. You get that?" But the second you whisper yes, it's over. The restraint snaps, and he's on you. His lips capturing yours in a kiss that's all consuming, his hands exploring, pressing, claiming. "Too late to back out now," he mutters against your lips before pushing you down, his body following right after. He pins your wrists above your head, one hand holding them together while his other trails down. "Fuck, you're sexy when you look at me like that..." His voice trails off as he leans in, kissing along your jawline, then nipping at your earlobe. He releases one of your wrists to unbuckle his belt, smirking wickedly as he slowly unzips his pants and freeing his large, hard erection. He grips it firmly, giving it a slow stroke as he looks down at you with pure hunger and lust. "Last chance to back out, baby. After I'm inside you, there's no turning back."

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kaiserouo · 3 days ago

Text

There are some additional advice from the reblogs so i might as well add, along with something i forgot to mention

1. Transferring out won't cancel channel abilities

Except for umbra i guess.

This is extremely useful for nyx (assimilate) and ivara (prowl), because instead of rolling forward you can use void sling to go far without recasting your ability.

And that's why i dont really mod them with movement mods... except for ivara conservation because you need to follow the trail and rolling is the best option for me.

2. Void mode is proper invisibility

If you transfer out and immediate go into void mode, enemies and animals won't see you.

Useful for perfect catches in conservation, simaris scanning during extermination mission, and some weird riven challenges. You can keep your invisibility at all times (prowl / void mode) while still able to travel fast (void sling)

3. Press V to toggle void mode

I forgot that button existed.

You can toggle void mode, press windows button to jump out of warframe (requires borderless fullscreen) and do other stuff for like 1 minute. Perfect when you wanna get a cup of water or go number one (if you're very fast) during mission

4. Void sling cancels momentum and is pinpoint accurate teleport

When you overshoot your target (especially for aim gliding with high speed, e.g., when you get out of wukong 2 or cancels archwing with melee in open world), just use void sling to get on top of your target instead of backtracking.

Tbh void sling is just generally useful to add into your movement kit. One sling is ~30m and you can chain ~7 (or ~13? for madurai) slings with complete waybound. Definitely a saving grace for warframes without movement abilities.

Also press space longer to sling farther. It took quite an embarassing amount of time for me to figure that out. Actually i thought operator was useless because i kept tapping space and they just won't sling far lol.

5. Fully heal your warframe in 1 second

Magus elevate: 95% chance to restore 300 health to a Warframe after transferring into it.

That means if you can go in and out your warframe very fast, you can have fast and unlimited healing.

Press 5 to get out of warframe is instant and there's not much to optimize, but press 5 to get into warframe has a significant delay. But, if you press melee instead, getting into the warframe is also instant.

So when your warframe has low health, just press "5 → e → 5 → e" to heal your warframe. Any other healing arcane is probably slower than this so imo just don't even bother getting them. (e.g., magus nourish, magus repair)

Also just an additional note and sample loadout, i use

Madurai (free 50% cast speed, 40% ability strength, 100% amp crit damage, almost double the sling count, and the skills makes your amp kills SP enemies)

747 amp (7xx flamethrower is generally good, and has a high fire rate, combining with duviri fire rate decree you can make x4x busted in the circuit. xx7 for crit chance)

Magus elevate (as mentioned above) and magus melt (more amp damage for last gasp in steel path)

Eternal eradicate and eternal logistic (i dont really like to use void strike most of the time because of the cooldown, if you like it you can swap logistic for onslaught, or maybe swap eradicate instead because iirc eradicate and void strike damage increase is additive (need verification))

#the more i type the more i feel i play too much of this game #ramble

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beloveds-embrace · 3 days ago

Note

So, someone may have already thought about this, but after reading the comments from other folks in the neglected!aus of the Dukedom, I'm looking for a sliver of hope for poor Duchess.

What if there is a newly-hired maid who actually gives a shit about Duchess's well-being, but also not one to take bs? When she notices the duchess being treated unfair, she's quick to ask the rest of the staff. They're no help, and John just turns a blind eye to it. "If you're so worried, then why don't you take care of her yourself?" says half-heartedly.

Challenge accepted (with the utmost diligence).

Because regardless of how things are, she's not gonna let The Lady of The House wither and waste away. Anything Duchess needs, Sweet Maid will be the one to take care of it, not accepting any help or pity from anyone. Plus, less problems means less rumors.

The manor was cold.

Not in the way that stone and drafty halls made a place cold, but in the way that loneliness settled into the bones of a home, making it hollow. You felt it in every ignored whisper of your name, in the meals left at your door but never shared, in the glances that once lingered but now flickered away, as if your presence was something to be endured rather than cherished.

You had learned to sit in that silence, to let the days pass with only the ticking of the grand clock to keep you company. No one seemed to mind that the Duchess of the house was wilting. Not the servants who barely acknowledged you, not the man who had vowed to be your partner in all things.

So it was a surprise when a sharp knock interrupted the monotony of your existence.

You barely had the energy to respond. “Enter.”

The door swung open, and in stepped a young woman dressed in the crisp uniform of the household staff. But unlike the others, she did not hesitate in the doorway, did not cast you a wary glance before hurrying off to complete some other, more important task- because you were at the bottom of the list of importance to them.

No- this one marched inside with purpose, hands on her hips, bright eyes scanning the room like a general surveying a battlefield.

“Oh, absolutely not!”

You blinked, fully looking at her. “I beg your pardon?”

The maid- Shirin, you would later learn- looked positively appalled, her gaze darting between the untouched vanity, the dust gathering in the corners, the discarded meal trays with barely a dent in them.

“This is unacceptable!” she declared.

You almost laughed. You had never heard one of the staff speak so freely before, but you didn’t mind. At least she was speaking to you.

Instead, you tilted your head, studying her. “And you are?”

Shirin straightened, her expression softening when her eyes met yours. “Shirin, Your Grace. I’ve just been hired, and let me tell you, I do not approve of how they’ve been treating you.”

Your lips parted, but before you could respond, she was already moving- striding toward the heavy curtains and yanking them open, letting sunlight pour into the dim room.

“Goodness, no wonder you look so sick! They’ve been keeping you in the dark like some tragic ghost.”

You winced at the sudden brightness, but you found yourself watching, entranced, as Shirin moved with swift efficiency. She gathered the abandoned trays and muttered under her breath about the nerve of leaving food for a Duchess like she’s a stray cat, shaking her head in obvious disapproval.

You frowned. “Why does it matter to you?”

Shirin turned, her brows furrowing in genuine confusion. “Because you’re you!” she said, as if that should be obvious.

You didn’t know how to respond to that.

With a huff, Shirin clapped her hands together. “Alright! First things first, we’re getting you properly bathed, dressed, and fed. No more arguments.”

You raised a brow. “I haven’t argued.”

“Oh, you will,” she said knowingly, already heading toward the bathing chamber. “But I’m terribly stubborn, and I always win, my lady.”

For the first time in ages, you felt something unfamiliar flutter in your chest. Something warm. And you weren’t quite sure what to do with it.

Within minutes, Shirin had the bath drawn- hot water steaming as she added fragrant oils with a hum. She returned to your bedside, hands on her hips.

“Well?”

You hesitated. You didn’t even know why- and yet tou hesitated.

She softened, stepping closer. “Your Grace,” she said gently. “You deserve to be taken care of.”

Something in you cracked, and without a word, you let her help you to the bath.

She was kind but firm, helping you undress without making you feel small, washing your hair with a gentleness that made your throat tighten. When you were clean and wrapped in the softest robe, she helped you to a chair before the vanity, brushing creams onto your face with careful strokes.

“See?” she murmured. “Not so bad, my lady.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “No,” you admitted. “Not bad at all.”

Shirin, and you found yourself helpless against the warmth of it. She squealed when she noticed your own smile.

By the time you were settled in fresh clothes, Shirin had already changed the linens, aired out the room, and brought in a meal that smelled heavenly. The warmth of the plate alone almost made you tear up.

She cut the food into small bites- not in a condescending way, but in a way that said she simply wanted to make things easier for you.

You took a tentative bite, and Shirin lit up.

“Oh, thank the stars, you’re eating!” she cheered.

You gave her a look, but there was no real heat behind it.

“I always win, my lady. I told you so!” She reminded you with a wink.

And for once, you didn’t mind losing.

Meanwhile, the rest of the staff had noticed Shirin’s warpath.

She was sweet with you- warm, chatty, the very definition of a doting maid. But with them?

“Oh, no no no,” she had scolded Johnny that morning. “You expect the Duchess to eat this?” She had snatched the meal away with a huff, muttering about standards before personally overseeing a proper one.

And when she had cornered John, her expression turning so positively icy, she hadn’t even pretended to be intimidated.

“If you’re so worried, then why don’t you take care of her yourself?” he had muttered, dismissive, too focused on his work to care about a singular maid taking pity on you.

Shirin had only grinned. Fine. She will take the very best care of you!

#noona.asks #noona.writes #chose the name shirin bc it means sweet in my mother language lol

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meadowfics · 2 days ago

Text

the lamp

kang dae-ho x f!reader

a perfect world for dae-ho and you.. right?

warnings: mentions of death, post squid game au, ptsd

everything is perfect.

you sit on the couch, cradling your newborn daughter in your arms, her tiny body warm against your chest.

byeol’s little baby hands rest on the bottle as she drinks, her eyelids fluttering every now and then as sleep tries to pull her under. she’s only two weeks old, and already she looks like dae-ho’s twin…his nose, his soft lips, even the way she furrows her brows in concentration as she drinks.

you can’t help but smile, smoothing a gentle hand over her barely-there strands of dark hair.

she has your cheeks, and your eyes, but she is dae-ho’s twin.

in front of you, in the middle of the living room, your husband is fully engaged in a very serious transaction with your three-year-old daughter, seo-ah.

the toddler’s chubby little hands press buttons on the toy register with the utmost concentration, her lips pursed like she’s handling the most important sale of her life.

“that’ll be five dollars, appa!” seo-ah exclaims, holding out her tiny hand.

dae-ho gasps dramatically, patting his pockets.

“five dollars? oh no, i think i forgot my wallet!”

seo-ah giggles, shaking her head.

“no money, no food, appa.”

you watch the interaction with pure adoration, your heart full, almost too full.

seo-ah has always been so full of joy, radiating happiness like the sun, just like her father.

she has his energy, his optimism, but she’s all yours in looks…your same eyes, your same small nose, your same round cheeks, your eyebrows. she’s a perfect mix of you both, but in personality, she is her father’s daughter.

hopeful, warm, a little bit mischievous.

“what if i pay you in kisses?”

dae-ho bargains, reaching out to tickle her sides.

seo-ah squeals, laughing so hard she tips over onto the floor, her little feet kicking in delight.

“appa, nooo! you need real money!”

you chuckle softly, shifting byeol in your arms as she finishes her bottle. the infant’s small body relaxes against you, full and content, her breathing slow and steady.

you press a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling her sweet newborn scent, then look up to find dae-ho watching you.

your husband’s smile is soft, filled with something deep and unwavering. love. the kind of love that makes your stomach turn into butterflies, even after all these years.

the kind of love that has never wavered, never dimmed.

“what?” you murmur, feeling a little shy under his gaze.

he shakes his head, still smiling.

“nothing, love. ‘m just thinking about how lucky i am.”

your heart flutters.

“me too.”

before he can respond, seo-ah scrambles to her feet.

“i need more stuff for my store! appa, wait here!”

she declares, already dashing off toward her bedroom.

dae-ho salutes her playfully.

“yes, ma’am.”

you giggle, shifting your gaze around the room, taking in the home you’ve built together.

your living room is cozy, perfectly lived-in, with framed pictures of your little family lining the shelves. toys are scattered everywhere…seo-ah’s dolls, blocks, stuffed animals…but it just makes the space feel warmer, more real.

your eyes land on the blue lamp beside the television.

for a second, it looks fine.

then, something flickers.

you blink. the lamp is blurry, fuzzy, like static on an old tv screen.

you frown, confusion creeping up your spine.

that’s strange.

your chest tightens.

something feels... wrong.

you look back at dae-ho, but he’s still smiling at you, completely normal, completely real.

you swallow, trying to shake the unease creeping into your bones. maybe you’re just tired.

maybe—

then the world tilts.

the warmth, the laughter, the love…everything shatters. the edges of your vision blur, your living room dissolving like smoke in the wind.

no. no, no, no!!!

you snap awake.

the cold air bites at your skin, seeping through the thin blankets wrapped around you.

you’re not in your living room. you’re not holding byeol. you’re not hearing seo-ah’s laughter.

you’re alone.

your chest tightens, and for a second, you can’t breathe.

the reality slams into you like a freight train, like a fist to the gut, like the sharp edge of a knife twisting in your ribs.

it wasn’t real.

your family…your perfect, beautiful family…was never real.

your hands shake as you press them against your face, a sob breaking free before you can stop it. you squeeze your eyes shut, but it doesn’t stop the tears, doesn’t stop the way your heart feels like it’s splitting open, breaking into pieces you’ll never be able to put back together.

dae-ho is gone.

he sacrificed himself for you in those death games, the squid games, just so you could live.

after the failed rebellion, all he wanted to show you was that he was not a coward. he wanted to prove to himself that he was strong, something that you’ve always known that he was.

however he didn’t. he sacrificed himself in the marbles game so you could have a future. swapping the bags so he had the rocks.

this is so you could have a chance at something better, something more than what those cruel games would have left you with.

he should have been here.

he should have been with you.

you should have been the one to go.

these torturess daydreams have been in your head everyday since his death. he died in the games two years ago.

your sobs wrack through your body, uncontrollable, unstoppable.

you curl into yourself, arms wrapping around your torso like they could somehow hold you together, like they could somehow stop the unbearable ache hollowing out your chest.

you wanted that life. you wanted seo-ah, with her bright eyes and endless giggles. you wanted byeol, small and soft and perfect.

you wanted dae-ho, with his warm hands, his kind eyes, his steady love.

you’ll never have it.

you will never have that perfect family with the only man you’ll ever love.

your hands claw at the blanket, gripping it like it’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

its cold, 4am and its lonely. dae-ho should be here. he should be holding you, should be kissing your forehead, should be telling you that everything is okay.

it’s not okay.

it will never be okay.

you don’t know how long you cry. time loses meaning, drowning in the grief that wraps around you like a vice, suffocating, endless.

your body shakes, exhaustion weighing down on you, but sleep won’t come.

not again. not when you know the moment you close your eyes, you’ll see them. you’ll see him.

you’ll see the life you’ll never have.

eventually, the sobs fade into quiet sniffles, your body drained, eyes forced to be dry, your throat raw.

you stare at the ceiling, empty, hollow.

dae-ho wouldn’t want this for you. he wouldn’t want you to be stuck in this cycle of grief, unable to move forward.

he gave up everything so you could live, but how are you supposed to live without him?

how are you supposed to live when the best part of you is gone?

you take a shaky breath, wiping at your wet cheeks. you don’t have the answer.

maybe you never will.

I'm sorry

masterlist

#kang dae ho #kang dae ho x reader #squid game #squid game s2 #squid game season 2 #squid game fanfic #multifandom account #meadowfics #squid game x reader #squid game x y/n #squid game x you

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comflexxed · 3 days ago

Text

june’s mind had been heavy with sleep just moments ago, lulled into that easy warmth, that gentle, almost hypnotic quiet where nothing existed except the steady rhythm of hans’ voice and the soft brush of his fingers. but now… now he was awake. fully, entirely awake, his pulse pounding against his ribs, a warmth rising in his chest that had nothing to do with the blanket pulled snug around them.

he could still feel it, still taste it — the feather-light brush of hans’ lips, the way it settled against his skin like something careful, something uncertain but wanting.* and hans was still there, still close, his breath still warm between them, his voice curling through the air in a way june had never heard from him. his heart was racing, and his mind was a mess of contradictions — of wanting to hold onto this moment just a little longer and wanting to run before he could let himself get caught in it. before he could let himself hope.

because this was something real. this was something he couldn't write off as a mistake or a misread moment. this was something hans had meant. and june didn’t know what to do with that.

his fingers curled slightly where they still rested under hans’ — a small movement, but one that betrayed the quiet storm inside him. he wasn’t pulling away, but he wasn’t leaning in either. he swallowed, barely noticeable, his lips still parted as if he wanted to say something — should he say something? what was he supposed to say? that hans had caught him completely off guard? that he could still feel the ghost of that kiss lingering on his lips? that his heart was aching with something terrifying and warm and fragile all at once?

a soft breath left him after a long, quiet moment, something light, almost like the start of a laugh, but softer—content. “…you really kissed me.” the words weren’t hesitant. they were filled with something good, something warm, as if june was trying to process it, to savor it. his fingers curled just slightly under hans’, not pulling away, not retreating, just staying right where they were. because june wanted to stay.

his lips twitched, the smallest smile tugging at the corners, a drowsy, happy sort of thing, like he was still sinking into the moment, still letting himself have this. he exhaled slowly, his voice hushed. “…that was nice.”

hans chuckled lowly at the scene before him, june growing sleepier by the second but still managing to inject some amusement in his tone when he asked. “i think you’ll definitely fall asleep any minute now,” he added with a teasing tone, his fingers continuing with the gentlest touch to june’s cheek.

it reminded him of sunny in a way, how she would sometimes try to stay awake when something really nice was happening, or when watching her favorite show. hans felt like he was the show now, with june’s eyes on him and the tv sidelined, completely forgotten if not for the dim glow and the quiet murmurs from the actors.

the faint movement of june’s fingers underneath his was not lost on hans, the slightest movement reverberating throughout his being, willing him to close that final distance, to give in to what he wanted to do—what his eyes hinted at with every quick glance down june’s lips.

and maybe that’s all hans needed. that final push, that moment to settle itself for him, to tell him there was nothing to regret here, just something to let happen naturally, just like everything that had happened so far. “well, if you are indeed going to sleep soon, then i guess—“ his words were muttered so softly, they were barely audible, accompanied by an almost imperceptible tilt of his head as he, finally, closed the gap between their lips.

it was a light brush of his lips to june’s, a tentative kiss, but still one that warmed his heart and made his heart flutter even more than it did before. he hesitated only for a brief second, allowing june the window to pull back, to push him away, and when he found none, he relaxed into the kiss as he claimed june’s lips fully, the touch electrifying and sweet and just. june.

it was all he could think of at this point, his mind swimming with how kissing june felt, how june looked before their lips brushed, how his skin felt warm as hans’ free hand traveled down his forearm. just june, june, june.

hans’ eyes remained on his as their lips parted, his face still within inches of june’s as if the kiss had made it even more difficult to keep his distance. as if june had become his orbit. “there’s your good night kiss,” he whispered into the night, his eyes shining with the courage of taking a leap and not falling down into the abyss.

but perhaps he had still fallen, into something terrifying and wonderful all at once, into an unknown realm that he could not wait to call his.

#[ 04 ] ─ * teacher verse { you light my way }

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crispywriter · 2 days ago

Text

Gale Dekarios is a quiet kind of beautiful.

When you'd first met—pulled him headfirst into you from within the depths of that unstable portal—you truly hadn't thought all that much of him. Not to say that you weren't immediately aware of the man's handsomeness, but the tadpole squirming within your brain, threatening to change you into an unfeeling monster was top priority in that particular moment.

As the weeks had passed and you'd gotten to know him, opened your heart toward him, deepened your trust and eventually fell madly, completely, utterly in love with him—every little detail about the wonderful wizard was revealed to you and to your surprise, you fall impossibly deeper for him with every passing day.

Now, as you sit lounging across the worn old bench on the balcony outside your shared home in Waterdeep, legs sprawled over his knees, you've completely forgotten whatever ancient tome it is Professor Dekarios has asked you to look over in favour of admiring the way the late afternoon sun falls upon his face.

He's gotten softer now—the months of sleeping in comfortable beds and eating balanced meals treating him much kinder than the roughness of the time spent travelling to Baldur's Gate, and he's told you he wasn't much better before, when he'd spent so long worried over his potential to bring an end to an entire city. Your eyes linger on the shapely curve of his neck, the strength of his jaw, the wisdom of the creases and lines on his face—his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads, his growing hair half swept back into a knot behind his head, warm sunlight catching in his eyelashes and making him appear almost ethereal.

"I know you're staring." Gale breaks the comfortable silence, turning his head just slightly toward you and tapping his glasses up his nose. The spectacles are a welcome addition, you think, adding to both your devilish fantasies and the overwhelming love toward him. "You're supposed to be helping me decipher that. I've got exams to prepare."

"How am I to focus on translating Infernal when you're sitting here looking the way you do?" You bite back, nothing but adoration in your tone.

"Looking like what?" He turns his head to you fully now, strands of hair falling about his lovely tanned skin, the deep chocolatey brown catching the sun just as his lashes had, lighting it golden.

"Gods, I don't know if there's a word that would suffice—an angel, perhaps?" You hum and close the book you were supposed to be reading.

He'd told you once that with you he forgets his goddess. With him you forget every other divine being in all of the realm's histories.

Gale flushes a delightful shade of red, tutting his tongue to his teeth and shaking his head slightly. "You and your ridiculous..." He trails off, "you haven't happened upon another mindflayer tadpole by chance?"

"Disgusting, and no, I assure you these thoughts are entirely my own." You grin, shuddering at the phantom feeling of something wriggling about inside your head. "What? I can't compliment you now without you doubting me?"

"Your compliments I can handle." Gale chuckles as he turns his attention back to his book, his eyelashes lighting up gold once more. "Your flattery—though once I thoroughly enjoyed—I now find myself unable to accept."

You almost pout at that, but knowing where the professor's proud nature had come from and all the years of trying to live up to—what were by all intents and purposes—unreasonable expectations, you swallow it down and instead swing your legs around and scoot closer to your beloved's warm body, the navy silk shirt he wears loose on his body, the buttons popped open lower than he'd allow under any other circumstances, and you take the opportunity to slip your hand inside and rest your palm over the steady beat of his heart. It stutters when your proximity increases and Gale releases a sigh that begins confident but loses strength somewhere in the middle.

"Darling, I'm busy." His voice wavers. You smile and nudge your nose against the softness of his hair, right by his ear.

"Ignore me." You whisper, delighted at the way the wizard shivers in response, your thumb rubbing lazy half-moons on his chest, your other arm going around his neck until your hand finds purchase on his shoulder, squeezing at the tension in his muscles. "Relax. Pretend I'm not even here."

"By the Weave—"

You smile and begin to kiss across his temple, stretching your neck up as your nose presses into his hair, inhaling the familiar scent of leather and worn book pages, plain soap and the underlying crisp smell of magic that tickles your nose as you press your lips to his skin. Both your arms go around his neck and you cup the opposite side of his face in your hand, trying not to disturb his spectacles too much as you adorn his soft cheeks with sweet smooches, humming happily as he tries his very best to continue to focus but still leans into your touch.

"My love..." Gale gives another sigh, this one sounding almost defeated as he turns his head and allows you to trail your pathway of kisses toward his lips. "You're being rather unfair."

"Unfair?" Your smile only grows as you tangle your fingers into your lover's hair and tease his mouth with your own, your lips barely brushing his. "It's not my fault you're unable to resist me."

He keens into your feather-light kisses, his mouth parting as he breathes you in, eyelids fluttering closed and his book almost forgotten—his determination so quickly abandoned now you've got him twisted around your fingertips. You hum softly and gently comb your fingers through Gale's hair, dodging his neediness to nuzzle your way back up the side of his face, your nose skimming his glasses as you press a kiss between his creased brows.

"My sweet girl..." You shuffle closer, expertly maneuvering into a kneeling position, vaguely aware of the professor finally placing his book down on the small table beside the bench before his curious hands come over to slide up your thighs and hips. "Love of my life—closer please, please—"

You smile wide at the endearment, carefully slipping your leg over the wizard's and sitting down, comfortably straddling his thighs. "I thought I was a distraction?" You gently untie the knot in his hair and let the soft strands fall free about your beloved's face before you comb your fingers through it slowly, stretching forward to press gentle kisses in his hairline every time you see a grey hair—so you end up kissing him a lot.

"Oh, you most certainly are." Gale closes his eyes as you shower him with affection, your nails lightly scratching at his scalp, his arms looping around your waist as you lean your weight into his solid body. "But a welcome one nonetheless."

💫

just thinking about how much i love this man

#bg3 #crispywrites #gale dekarios #gale fic #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #gale x tav #bg3 fic #bg3 fluff

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chuellas · 2 days ago

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Echoes of Silence | E is for Edging

⤷ Ft. Dazai Osamu

V. A. L. E. N. T. I. N. E.

Warnings | Fem!Reader, N.SFW, 18+ only, edging, slight mind break, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, WC: 1k

A/N: Idk why but I struggled so hard with writing this one, I hope it came out just as well as the rest did <3

Dazai had been clingy all day, performatively so. You could sense that something was off, even for Dazai the dramatics were a little much. But trying to pry it out of him was never an option, so when he asked to come over you were simply resigned to accepting.

It has been what feels like hours since Dazai came over to your dorm and each passing second is becoming even more agonizing than the last. Dazai is toying with both of you tonight. He was quick to strip you of your clothes and have his way with you before the front door even fully shut. His desperate hands exploring your skin with urgency.

Nightly visits like these usually only last about an hour, maybe two, but tonight is definitely different. It’s been almost three hours and Dazai isn’t letting either one of you finish. You’ve been on the edge for probably two and half of those hours and it’s torture.

This is cruel and unusual punishment and it’s all Dazai’s fault.

Every time one of you is about to come he slows down or pulls out completely only to distract you by kisses. His lips sear every inch of your body. Dazai gives you absolutely no time to protest or to rest. It gives you each only a few moments before he’s diving into you again with the same agonizing pace he’s set, slower and harder than usual.

You're a mess, your brain has been turned to mush and the only coherent thought you’ve managed to keep intact is the need to release. Your ability to speak is in the same condition. Pleas of your need to release spilling from your swollen lips, but they fall on deaf ears because Dazai clearly has no plans of granting any of your requests.

The brunette is too caught up in his own need to release. He isn’t just torturing you, but himself too. He can’t rip his eyes away from the way your glistening sloppy cunt sucks him in and keeps a vice grip hold. He’s not sure where the self control is coming from but he barely manages to keep this up. The only thing keeping him from letting you finally cum is the thought of having to go back to his dorm and spend the rest of this night alone with his own thoughts.

He’d be damned if he let that happen when your company is so, so much sweeter than his own.

Even now, your incoherent words sound like music to his ears. “‘Samu…’Samu, please. I can't- ‘s too much- ahh- I need to- oh my god- I need to cum, please, please…”

It’s getting harder for Dazai to deny you and he thinks he’s on the verge of giving in. Even so, Dazai’s movement instinctively slows down and you let out a hiccuped sob. He looks down at you and he really thinks he’s gonna lose all senses. You are a beautiful mess — a devastatingly beautiful mess. Your hair is matted down on your face from a mix of tears and sweat. Your eyes rimmed red from the amount of crying you’ve done. Skin flushed the prettiest pink color and marks littered your body, courtesy of Dazai himself.

In the split moment it takes for the agent to admire you, clearly distracted, you wrap your legs around his waist. It’s your desperate attempt to keep him close and finally give you what you’ve been begging him for. As if Dazai’s conviction hadn’t already been crumbling, this was the final blow to send it crashing all the way.

Dazai picks up his speed and crashes his lips into your own as you both finally find that release you’ve been chasing for hours. Your room is filled with muffled moans mixed together and the wet sound of Dazai’s hips crashing into yours before stilling completely and spilling inside of you. Everything is dizzy and Dazai can’t form a single thought. His mind is filled with fog and his ears stuffed with cotton. Nothing is registering but the white hot pleasure pooling in his stomach and spreading through his entire body like electricity.

His length throbs inside of you with each release of his seed that he’s pouring into you. The build up made his plummet last longer than it usually would. His whole body twitches, already hypersensitive and he hasn’t even completely finished inside of you yet. Dazai’s vision focuses and you’re in no better shape. Your eyes are still screwed shut and your body is borderline convulsing. The tight grip you have around both his waist and his cock keeps him from pulling away from you at all.

When you’ve both come down, the brunette can’t bring it in himself to get up to clean himself and leave. Instead he collapses into your hold, laying face down into your chest. By the sound of your breathy chuckle and the way you begin to run your fingers through his hair, despite it being wet from sweat, Dazai can tell you’ve come back to reality.

Dazai shifts, making an effort to pull away but the action is stiff. He doesn’t want to leave but he knows if he doesn’t, he will be overstaying his welcome. Your hold on him, however, doesn't falter and you let out a soft hum.

“Stay.” Dazai’s head shoots up at that and he just stares at you for a few moments. You’re visibly nervous and start to elaborate when you really don’t need to because Dazai was already sold by the single syllable. “It’s later than usual and I really don’t mind the company. Also your body must be exhausted.”

Dazai tries to widen his eyes in shock but the detective’s eyelids become too heavy for him to keep open anymore and he wordlessly resigns. His head drops back to your chest — this time he makes sure to make himself more comfortable on top of you. He decides to stay nestled in between your thighs even though he’s softened now.

Dazai doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t think he has to, his body language is enough to tell you he’s not going anywhere.

#dazai x reader #dazai smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #dazai x you #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x you #dazai x fem!reader #bsd x fem!reader #bungo stry dogs x fem!reader #bsd dazai #writings ʚїɞ

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sapphicides · 2 days ago

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call me crazy or gay but i genuinely think the writers, directors, and hell, even the actors knew what they were doing when it came to how they portrayed shauna and jackie's relationship in the pilot. watching it for the first time, i went in completely blind, with no exposure to the fandom, the ships, or anything beyond the core premise of "a group of teenage girls get stuck in a nightmarish lord of the flies/lost scenario after a plane crash and do crazy shit to survive." i fully anticipated any romance in this show, if at all, to be straight. yet i still saw how they established shauna and jackie and immediately thought "my god, these bitches are gay"

from the very first scene we see of jackie (almost) by herself being her faking an orgasm with jeff, clearly implying that she's disinterested in her own boyfriend, to the very first scene we see of shauna and jackie alone together starting with this rom-com esque image of jackie stepping out of her house while music plays in the background and shauna goes from resting bitch face to all smiles

from the longing stares they give each other in their school gym, to shauna responding to tai's "freeze allie out" proposal simply with, "jackie wouldn't like it"

from the scene of shauna dressing with jackie in her room before the party, her snapping at jackie when she merely suggests that shauna sleep with randy and jackie looking genuinely hurt and apologetic by it, to the infamous party scene where shauna looks on at jackie and jeff longingly– except, she's only really looking at jackie, because the entire shot is framed around jackie. for the majority of that scene, jeff is barely even in frame, a faded blur in the background, until he puts his arms around jackie and physically puts himself in shauna's line of vision

the way she immediately takes a pained sip of her beer after

the way she turns around to randy flirting with her, only to turn away with a look of disgust on her face (just like how jackie looked disgusted during jeff's attempt at getting her off)

the way she can't pull her eyes off jackie even when jeff is dropping them off, even when she knows she's about to fuck her boyfriend once she's gone

the way she says goodbye to jackie, tells her she loves her, and jackie doesn't say it back, so she asks jeff to say it to her when they have sex

the show sets up their dynamic to be one that feels inherently romantic to first-time viewers, only to flip it on its head when its reveled that shauna's true interest is in... jeff. she's really in love with jeff? the guy who's face we see maybe a couple of times total, that jeff? the guy who's basically a background character the entire episode, that jeff? yeah, i don't buy it

you could argue that the show places so much emphasis on jackie because it's trying to convey that the affair is eating away at shauna. to some extent, i agree with this, but i really doubt that it's only this. it would explain shauna's snappy and, at times, cagey behavior around jackie, but it doesn't explain the way that jackie is framed by the camera, music, or even some of the writing choices. whenever we see jackie through shauna's eyes, the camera is always focused directly on her, often times with her face illuminated brighter than anyone else. the music that plays behind her is shauna's kind of music (both supernova by liz phair, which shauna chooses to listen to in her car's tape deck, and miss world by hole, which undeniably fits her grungey music taste). she's joined at the hip with shauna, even in scenes where she's with jeff– seriously, there's only one scene where she's completely alone with jeff without shauna, and it's that one. and the same goes for shauna

for the entirety of the pilot, they are in a constant state of push and pull with each other, almost all of their actions being dependent on one another. jeff feels like a plot device at best, a character designed to come between them and to be thrown away once they realize who each other's real love interest is. even upon several rewatches, it still feels this way. even in the adult timeline, it still feels this way. we barely see adult jeff, but we feel both jackie's literal absence and her metaphorical presence in the form of shauna's collection of porcelain bunnies

there is so much foreshadowing and detail packed into the pilot that i have a really hard believing that this was just an oversight or mishandling of their relationship on the show's part. do i think there's going to be any kind of big love confession from shauna any time soon? no. but do i think they intentionally laid the groundwork for her to realize the feelings she had for jackie at some point? yes, i really do

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dazedhyu · 23 hours ago

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Focus 𓂃 💧 ldh

:¨ ·.· ¨: paring ー ex!haechan x fem!reader (ft 7dream)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ warnings : angst, smut, slight noncon (he pressures her into consenting at first), light exhibitionism, fingering, oral (fem rec.), mentions of cheating, pet names (angel, princess, etc), lmk if i missed any ^_^

★彡 5.9k wc!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ authors note >< : my first post here :D!!! this is the second fic i actually decided to attempt to write.. so im so so so sorry if the pacing is off or the writing is weird LMFAO,, it took me way longer than id like to admit to finally finish this.. literally has been in my drafts since july of last year 😭 this was supposed to be inspired by focus by nct 127, unfortunately though i definitely went a little off track.. hopefully whoever reads this enjoys it as much as i do!! any and all feedback is welcome :3 psa.. though this was proof read like 89 times pls ignore any spelling errors im dyslexic ok

It’s been almost a year since you and Haechan broke up. You’ve spent every second since despising him. You hate the way he steals glances when he thinks you won’t notice. You hate the way his voice still lingers in the back of your mind when the room is too quiet, and more than anything, you hate how much you still find yourself craving the warmth of his touch at times.

You do your best to ignore him. You guys share the same friend group and hang out often. The last thing you’d want to do is make your shared friends feel tied up in your weird relationship drama. But it was hard when Haechan would joke around with them and slip in snide comments about you, glancing over at you with that stupid shit-eating grin plastered on his face, desperately trying to get a rise out of you.

Though you’ve convinced yourself you’re over him, completely given up, you sometimes wonder if he ever stops hating you. If, for even a second, he lets himself remember what it was like before everything fell apart. If he ever regrets the way he cheated on you and left you confused, and broken.

As the long-awaited spring break weekend arrived, you and your six friends — plus Haechan — found yourselves at Chenle’s summer estate, a secluded getaway nestled between towering pines that you all tended to visit every vacation you got. The midday sun filtered through sheer white curtains, casting warm patterns across the wooden floors of your designated room.

You wasted no time unpacking, barely bothering to fold your clothes as you stuffed them into the nearest dresser. The trip had only just started, and you already knew you wouldn’t be spending much time in this room, not when the sun was high, the water was cool, and the pool was calling your name.

Slipping into a simple black bikini, you gave yourself a once-over in the mirror. Satisfied, you grabbed your phone and headed for the door, the distant sound of laughter drifting up from downstairs. Voices overlapping, doors opening and closing. It was familiar, easy, the kind of noise that made the place feel lived in.

You exhaled, relaxation finally overriding your system. You were here to enjoy yourself, and nothing, not even the lingering tension of past mistakes, was going to change that.

In the kitchen, Mark and Renjun were hunched over the island, deep in some conversation you didn’t care enough to eavesdrop on as they cut up fruit. Everyone else was out by the pool, laughing, sunbathing, and just having a good time overall.

Everything felt easy, weightless, like nothing mattered beyond this weekend, beyond the warmth of the sun and the cool relief of the water.

Unfortunately for you, though, you saw him, and your mind immediately started to wander.

Haechan sat at the edge of the pool, legs submerged, an unreadable expression on his face as he stared out at the water. There was something detached about his gaze, like he wasn’t fully there. Like he was completely lost in thought about something else.

You rolled your eyes and turned away before you could linger too long. You hadn’t spoken to him once since getting here, and you weren’t about to start now. It was bad enough you had to share this weekend — just like every other moment with your friends — with him. He wasn’t going to ruin this for you. Not like he always did. You refused to let him get under your skin whatsoever.

Without a word, you walked past the kitchen, past the open doors, and stepped onto the sun-warmed patio, quietly taking a seat on a secluded sun lounger. The laughter, the sunlight, the cool water, all of it should have been enough to soothe you. And for the time being, it was.

You weren’t going to let him be the thing you noticed most.

A few hours had passed, the sun just barely starting to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the patio. You and your friends were deep in discussions. Yet, despite the carefree energy surrounding you, your attention kept flickering toward the empty space where Haechan should’ve been.

You hadn’t seen him for a while now — not that you cared, but you could definitely tell something was on his mind, slowly eating away at him. Usually, he would do everything in his power to irritate and annoy you, take every opportunity he had to glare so intensely you swore he was trying to burn holes into your skin, but today he was quiet. Too quiet.

You told yourself it didn’t matter, that he’d probably just had a rough day and called it quits, going back to his room. Yet the longer you sat there, the more you found yourself unconsciously searching for him.

Shaking off the thought, you stretched your arms above your head, sighing as the stiffness from sitting too long settled into your shoulders. Deciding you needed a break, you made your way inside, stepping into the dimly lit kitchen. The faint hum of the fridge filled the quiet space as you reached for a glass, the cool sensation of condensation forming against your fingertips while you poured yourself a drink.

Just as the first sip of cold juice touched your lips, a sudden grip on your hips sent a sharp jolt up your spine. Your breath hitched, fingers tightening around the glass as a shiver coursed through your body. The grip was firm, possessive even, harshly pushing your back against their chest.

For a split second, your mind raced. The silence behind you felt heavy, the presence lingering close. Immediately, you knew it was Haechan, the fear in your body being quickly overridden with irritation as you grabbed his wrists and forced his hands off your body.

“Don’t touch me, Donghyuck.” Your voice was a weird mix of soft yet stern, it only made his smirk grow wider. His hands immediately moved back to your hips, fingers digging in so harshly you were sure it would leave bruises. A small hiss slipped past your lips before he rested his chin on your shoulder, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“Why not? I know you miss my touch, baby.” He whispered sweetly, his hands pressing you further against him. Your ass flush against the bulge in his swimsuit made you wince, the pressure of his fingers digging into your hips sent an intense pain through your body. You hesitated for a second, your breath catching in your throat, before you reluctantly set the cup down on the counter.

“No need to get all dumb and quiet, you're shaking so much… just let Hyuckie take care of you the way he always did. Yeah, angel?” He spoke again, his hands abandoning your hips to slide down to your thighs, gripping them tight as his lips pressed hot, hungry kisses down the back of your neck and shoulder. You shook your head, a small, desperate "no" slipping from your lips, barely more than a breath.

Too many emotions surged within you, too disoriented to make sense of them all. A mixture of irritation, confusion, and fear gnawed at the pit of your stomach. You could feel the heat of his body behind you, his every movement making your pulse race even faster.

Something inside you screamed to get away, but another part of you… made you hesitate, made your mind make excuses telling you to stop trying to squirm out of his grasp. Maybe it was the slight yearning you've had for his touch since you've broken up, but you couldn’t admit that to him. Let alone yourself. You hated everything about this interaction, it made you sick to your stomach and you wanted nothing more than to get away and forget all about it. Everything about this made you feel so vulnerable.

“No? Not something my pretty girl would say… You don’t have to lie, baby, I know deep down this is what you want. Isn’t it, yn?” He spoke smoothly, his voice low and almost commanding.

You hated the way his words rang in your head, you especially hated the way your body reacted to his voice. Your legs subconsciously squeezing together before your breath caught sharply in your throat once more, feeling his hand slide from your thigh straight to the lining of your bikini bottoms.

Gently yet urgently he tugged the cloth aside, the cool air brushing against your warm core making a small whine leave your mouth. He chuckled deeply ー his fingers wasting no time circling painfully slow motions to your swollen bud.

"C'mon, angel, say it." He cooed softly into your ear, his chest somehow pressing even more into your back. His breath, warm and unrelenting against your skin, it made goosebumps rise across your arms and legs. You felt a chill despite the heat of his presence, your body instinctively tensing under his touch.

You knew, deep down, that no matter what you said, he wouldn't stop. That was how these situations always played out after all. But you also knew Haechan, you know the one thing he hates most is not getting what he wants, the thought of saying no and the lingering uncertainty of what he might do next made your stomach churn.

Not knowing what else to do besides pray that one of your friends outside just a few feet away would walk in and end this before it went any further. You hesitated, your body trembling ever so slightly as you nodded, almost unwillingly.

“I… I want this,” you murmured, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. “Hyuck…”

He hummed softly, his warm breath fanned against your skin, sending another shiver down your spine as his lips trailed lower, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. His pace was slow, deliberate as if he was savoring every reaction he pulled from you. His teeth grazed the delicate skin just below your jaw, a teasing bite followed by the soothing heat of his tongue. All simultaneously followed by his fingers moving faster against your poor clit.

A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest, the sound low and pleased as he tilted your head further to the side, exposing more of your neck to him. His hands, warm and pace steady. You did everything in your power to fight back the little whines and moans escaping your lips, you couldn’t stand how much you loved the way he touched you, you wanted to hate this, wanted that escape still but your body completely told him otherwise. Your legs slightly shaking and hands tightly gripping the counter in front of you.

Your noises had him smirking against your skin, his grip on your thigh tightening as he pulled you closer like he couldn't stand the thought of any space between you. His hips now rolling against you in his own desperate but steady motions.

"You like that, don't you?" he murmured, voice dipping into something lower, rougher. His teeth grazed over the fresh mark he'd left on your skin, a silent claim, before he moved lower, trailing kisses along the curve of your shoulder.

His hand on your leg slid up your back, fingers tracing lazily over your spine before tangling into your hair. He gave it a soft tug, guiding your head back just enough for him to meet your gaze. His eyes were darker now, half-lidded as he studied you the way your lips parted, your chest rising and falling a little faster than before.

"You're always so sensitive," he spoke, his voice dripping with amusement as he added more pressure. The pads of his fingers rough against your clit made you whimper louder than intended. "You need to be quiet, baby. Want all our friends to hear how good i make you feel?"

You weakly shook your head, your mind far too dazed to comprehend anything he was saying. The heat between your legs was unbearable, every nerve in your body still buzzing from his touch. But before you could even catch your breath, the sound of the patio door sliding open made your stomach drop.

Haechan didn't hesitate. In one swift motion, his hands were off your aching clit and immediately readjusting your swimsuit bottoms back into place, hands pulling away from you like he hadn't just been driving you insane seconds ago. His expression didn't falter, not even a flicker of guilt or hesitation crossing his features as he reached for your glass on the counter, bringing it to his lips as if this was just another casual moment.

Renjun barely had time to take in the scene as he stepped inside, his gaze flickering between the two of you. His eyes briefly landed on you— your messy hair, your flushed cheeks, the way your arms instinctively wrapped around yourself like you were trying to shrink into the background. Embarrassment weighed heavily in your posture, but Haechan? He was completely unbothered, standing there with the same nonchalant douchebag grin you were used to seeing him with.

Renjun blinked, his confusion evident for a moment before he shrugged, deciding not to question it. Haechan, who was proud of himself for getting away with this, stepped away from you with an easy stretch, barely sparing you another glance as he made his way past Renjun.

And just like that, he was gone, slipping back outside to join the others without so much as a second thought, leaving you standing there messy, breathless, and weirdly turned on.

For the rest of that night and the entire next day, you did everything in your power to avoid Haechan. The situation alone left you unsettled, a shiver running down your spine whenever you thought about it. You hated everything about it — the way it happened, the way it made you feel. But what you loathed most was yourself. How you let him take advantage of you like that. How fear had rooted you in place, keeping you from standing your ground.

Now, late into the night, the house was quiet. Everyone had retreated to their rooms, either fast asleep or winding down from another relaxing day. But you were restless. Lying in bed, replaying everything over and over, had become unbearable. Eventually, you’d had enough.

Slipping on a clean bikini, you made your way outside to the hot tub by the pool. The cool night air contrasted with the steam rising from the water, the moonlight reflecting off its surface in shimmering waves. The soft hum of crickets mixed with the bubbling water, a gentle, rhythmic sound that finally eased the tension gripping your body. As you sank into the warmth, the heat wrapped around you, melting away the stiffness in your muscles, a contented sigh leaving your lips.

Your eyes fluttered shut, head tilted back as the soothing warmth of the water surrounded you. You didn’t notice the soft, subtle sound of the patio door sliding open or the quiet patter of footsteps approaching you. Your mind was too consumed by the quiet, the weight of everything else you had been trying to push aside.

But then, you felt the shift in the air as legs brushed against yours. Your head snapped up in surprise, only to meet Haechan’s gaze. A cold rush of panic ran through you, and your body tensed instantly. The chill spread down your spine as the faintest shiver of fear crawled up, uninvited. The instinct to run surged, but something about the way he was looking at you, something almost… apologetic, stopped you cold. You stayed rooted to your spot, too nervous to speak, your heart hammering in your chest as his eyes locked with yours.

Haechan studied you, his gaze narrowing slightly as he noticed the stiff tension in your posture. It hit him, a soft pang of regret, that you might be afraid of him right now. The thought twisted in his chest. He shifted, eyes dropping to the bubbles swirling in the water, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts. When he looked back at you, his voice was gentle, almost too soft, a stark contrast to the way he last spoke to you.

“Why are you so scared? You know me better than anyone… I would never do anything to hurt you.”

His words made your stomach churn, the sudden tenderness sending an unsettling ripple through you.

The way he said it, so calm, so careful, it made your skin crawl in the worst way. It was all wrong— this soft tone wasn’t the one you were used to. Either he was always cocky and annoyed when he talked to you, or you truly haven’t heard this tone from him since you guys dated.

You could barely manage to hold his gaze as his words hung in the air, thick with something you couldn’t place, something that felt all too fragile. Your eyes shifted back to him, your lips twisted into a small, tight frown. “Your actions say otherwise, Haechan.”

Haechan’s eyes flickered with regret. Softly, he shook his head. “I know. I’m sorry, okay? I just… I lost control. I let my thoughts get the best of me. You didn’t deserve that.”

“What’s with the sudden change? How do you go from loving me to hating me to… doing what you did and now being sorry for it? It doesn’t make sense at all.”

The words hit Haechan harder than he expected. He leaned back slightly, running a hand through his hair, frustration building.

“I never hated you.”

“Felt like you did. And the feeling was strongly mutual.”

“No, come on, you know that’s not true.” Haechan’s voice was pleading, but it was strained with his own guilt. “You ended our relationship, your own free will, because in your words, you ‘couldn’t take this anymore.’

The fear in your demeanor quickly faded, immediately being replaced with irritation. You exhaled sharply, staring at the water for a moment to ground yourself. “You literally cheated on me,” you finally said, your voice trembling but still firm. “How do you expect me not to hate you?”

Haechan froze for a moment, his heart sinking. He knew he had done something unforgivable. He couldn’t deny that. But hearing it out loud, it was still a punch to the gut. “You cheated on me first,” he shot back, but the words felt hollow, even to him. “I just… I wanted you to feel the way I felt.”

Your expression twisted into disbelief. “What are you talking about? I never cheated on you?” You turned fully to face him now. “Even if that was true, how the fuck would two wrongs make a right?”

Haechan bit his lip, staring down at the water, avoiding your gaze. He had nothing to say to that. “I didn’t know better. I just did the first thing that came to mind. But I know the truth now, yn. You don’t need to lie about it.”

“Donghyuck,” you said softly, but it was almost like a warning. “You don’t know anything. Why would I cheat on you?”

The silence stretched for a moment, thick and heavy. Finally, Haechan looked up at you, his face softened with regret. “You tell me. I saw you unblock your ex on Instagram. His name was constantly popping up on your phone, and you were going out more often. Obviously, I assumed the worst.”

Your eyes narrowed at him once again, desperately trying to make sense of his words. “Okay… so you could’ve talked to me like a normal person?” You paused for a moment, sighing softly.

“I unblocked him because we ran into each other at a café, and honestly, we had a nice conversation. He started texting me more because he wanted to apologize for the way he treated me and ask me how I was doing. I only started going out more because you were always hanging out with Mark, and I wanted to be with my own friends as well.”

Haechan swallowed hard, his hands now gripping the edge of the tub as if to anchor himself. “So you guys never met up again?”

“No,” you replied, your voice laced with annoyance and slight disbelief that he’d even ask. “God, fuck no. I didn’t even accept his apology. My replies to him were so dry, and I kept mentioning you so much that he gave up and stopped talking to me.”

Haechan’s face flushed with shame. His eyes softened as he let out a quiet, “oh… I’m so sorry, yn..”

You looked at him for a long moment, as if assessing him, as if trying to decide if you could still be mad. You shook your head softly, your frustration still there but it was slipping. Your shoulders sagged, as you let out a breath you didn’t realize you'd been holding. “Yeah, you should be. I can’t believe you didn't just talk to me in the first place.” Your words were more tired than angry now, but they still carried weight.

But despite it all, despite the anger and the hurt, there was a crack in your resolve. You missed him, he missed you too, and you knew that. The silence between the two of you grew heavy again as your gaze softened, just a little.

He inched his way closer, the warmth of his palm grazing your skin as he cupped your cheek with delicate hesitation. His pleading searched yours, as if he was begging for your forgiveness.

“Yn, let me make it all up to you…” His voice was barely above a whisper, thick with something between regret and desperation.

You turned your head slightly, just enough to put distance between his touch and your resolve. “Hyuck, I don’t—”

“Please?” he interrupted, his thumb ghosting over your cheekbone. There was no force in his touch, only quiet insistence, as if the weight of his remorse alone could change your mind.

You let out a small breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your resolve crumbling at the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered. With a slow nod, your fingers found their way to his shoulders, pulling him slightly closer to you.

That was all the permission he needed.

Without hesitation, his lips crashed onto yours, desperate yet careful, as if he was scared you’d pull away. His hands trembled slightly as they found their place, one still cradling your cheek, the other gripping your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You could feel the way his fingers dug in, not enough to hurt, but enough to make it clear that he wasn’t letting go.

The kiss was deep, laced with something far more potent than just lust. There was an unspoken desperation, a need to feel, to forget, to forgive. Quiet hums and breathless moans melted into each other's mouths, the heat between you building with every passing second. Your fingers slipped into his hair, tugging just enough to make his breath hitch, a quiet groan vibrating against your lips.

His grip on you tightened. His hands roamed, one splayed against the small of your back, the other trailing up your side before settling just beneath your ribs, as if he needed to feel every inch of you. He let out a shaky exhale before his tongue slid past your parted lips, deepening the kiss, making it messier, hungrier. His lips moved against yours with urgency, like he was afraid to let go.

The way his body pressed flush against yours sent a heat straight to your core, your legs instinctively tightening around his waist. He couldn’t help but moan at the feeling, his restraint slipping with every desperate press of your lips, every soft gasp that fell from you.

His hands gripped your waist, lifting you effortlessly onto the edge of the hot tub. The cool air met your damp skin, sending a shiver down your spine, but his touch, his mouth on yours, burned hotter than the water that lapped at your calves.

His lips never left yours, kissing you like he could pull you deeper into him, like if he kissed you hard enough, it would erase the distance that had once existed between you. His fingers kneaded into your hips, thumbs rubbing slow, teasing circles against your skin. He swallowed your whimper, his own breath coming out unsteady as he pressed himself closer, needing more, needing you.

"Missed you so much, pretty girl... could never forgive myself for letting you go." His words were whispered against your lips, each syllable dripping with regret and longing. His voice was low, raspy, barely holding together the emotions threatening to spill over.

Before you could respond, his lips left yours, trailing soft, lingering kisses down your jaw, moving slowly and deliberately, as if savoring the moment. His breath was warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he nipped at the delicate flesh of your neck.

Instinctively, you tilted your head back, granting him more space to roam, your grip tightening in his hair as breathless pants and whimpers spilled from your lips.

His hands, firm yet reverent, traced down your sides as he continued his descent, mouth exploring every inch of you like he was trying to memorize the feeling all over again. Lips pressed against your shoulders, slow and sensual. His teeth grazed over your collarbone before he kissed his way lower, down the swell of your chest, your stomach, your thighs, taking his time, as if each kiss was an unspoken apology.

He missed this. He missed the way your body reacted under his touch, the way you shivered and tensed, the way your breath hitched with every kiss. His fingers caressed your skin with a delicate kind of desperation, like he was afraid you'd slip away again.

“God, you're so beautiful," he murmured against your thigh, voice drenched in need. His hands squeezed at your hips, holding you in place as he looked up at you, eyes dark with lust. He wanted to worship you, to love you in every way possible, to make you feel just how desperate he was for you, for your forgiveness.

You looked down at him, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, lips parted softly as you tried to steady the emotions rushing through you. Your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“I missed you just as much, Hyuck," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with longing. “I needed your touch more than anything."

A slow, satisfied smile curved at his lips before he leaned in, pressing delicate kisses up your thigh, inching closer, making sure you felt every lingering second of his touch.

"You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that," he murmured against your skin, lips grazing over sensitive flesh.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he pressed a sweet, lingering kiss straight to your clothed core. The gesture was both reverent and teasing, a silent promise laced in the way he held you, the way his fingers squeezed at your sides like he was grounding himself in your presence.

"Let me take care of you, baby," he whispered, voice deep and filled with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. "I'll be gentle, the way you always liked."

His fingers traced slow, featherlight patterns along your thighs, his lips followed soon after, trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses, leaving warmth in their wake. Every motion, every touch, was deliberate like he was savoring you, worshiping you, determined to make up for every second you'd been apart.

You shivered at his words, your fingers instinctively threading through his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan softly against your skin. The heat pooling in your core only grew as he pressed another kiss over the dampened fabric between your thighs, his nose grazing against you in a way that had you biting back a whimper.

"Hyuck," you breathed out, barely able to keep yourself still under his touch.

His hands gripped your hips tighter, anchoring you in place as his lips moved deliberately, teasing, testing your patience. "Shh, baby," he murmured, his voice sending shivers straight through you. "Just let me take my time with you."

Another slow, lingering kiss against the sensitive spot between your legs had your back arching slightly, a needy whine slipping past your lips. He chuckled lowly at your reaction, pressing his mouth to your inner thigh, sucking just hard enough to leave a mark. His tongue soothed over the spot immediately after, his free hand sliding up your stomach, fingers tracing over your ribs like he needed to feel every inch of you under his touch.

"So pretty," he murmured against your skin, "Missed touching you... missed tasting you."

Your breath hitched at his words, your body reacting to every bit of his attention. His touch was gentle yet possessive, his lips slow and deliberate, as if savoring the way you trembled beneath him. His hands roamed, memorizing every dip and curve, pressing soft, warm kisses along your hips before his fingers toyed with the waistband of your soaked underwear.

"Tell me you want this," he whispered, his lips ghosting just above where you needed him most. His voice was soft, pleading, as if he needed to hear you say it, to know you wanted this just as badly as he did.

You looked down at him, eyes hazy with need, your fingers tightening in his hair as you gave the smallest nod. "I do, Hyuck," you whispered breathlessly. "I need you."

His eyes darkened at your words, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "That's all I needed to hear, baby."

And with that, he wasted no time sliding off your bikini bottoms, tossing them aside carelessly before spreading your thighs apart, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you. Without a second thought, he dipped his face into your heat, his lips brushing the sensitive skin with an intensity that made you gasp.

You could feel the heat radiating off him as his breath fanned over you, a soft shiver running through your body. His fingers sunk into your thighs, keeping you steady as he kissed you slowly, teasingly, taking his time to savor every inch of you. You couldn't help the soft moans that escaped your lips as his tongue finally made contact with your aching clit, warm and relentless, moving in slow, deliberate strokes that had you bucking against him instinctively.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, "You taste so fucking good," he murmured against you, his voice husky and laced with need.

He was quick to pick up his pace, lapping at your pussy like his life depended on it. The way his mouth moved against you made you forget everything time, space, the world around you. All that mattered was the heat that coiled inside you, building with every passing second as his hands tightened their grip.

You felt yourself unraveling, the pressure in your chest mounting, the tension in your core winding tighter and tighter until you couldn't hold back any longer. The way he drove you to the edge without hesitation, without mercy, was maddening. You gripped his hair, tugging him closer, your body unable to stop itself from reacting to him.

"Hyuck.." you gasped, your voice breathless, barely a whisper as you dug your fingers into his scalp.

"Please..."

He smirked against you, the feeling of his lips curving into a grin sending another surge of heat through your body. "Please what, baby?" he teased, his voice low.

"I need you," you whimpered, barely able to keep your composure. "so bad.."

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your sensitive skin, lifting his head just enough to lick his lips with a sly grin. "Be patient, angel," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "Can you do that for me?"

You whined softly, the sound barely escaping your throat, before nodding eagerly, your body desperate for him, hips arched forward instinctively, silently begging him to continue.

He smirked, the dark gleam in his eyes full of satisfaction as he saw the way you squirmed under his gaze. "Good girl," he praised, his voice smooth like honey, almost cruel in how calm it was. "Just sit there, keep making those pretty little noises for me."

And with that, he dove back in, his mouth moving against you with newfound urgency, his tongue working you over with perfect precision. The wet sounds of his lips against your cunt mixed with the breathless moans spilling from your mouth, the pleasure so overwhelming it left your head spinning.

Your hands gripped at his hair, tugging sharply as your hips rocked forward, meeting his movements in a desperate attempt to chase the high only he could give you. He groaned at the sensation, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure shooting through your body.

Then, without warning, you felt his fingers tracing along your folds, teasing you with slow, torturous strokes.

"So wet for me," he mumbled, his breath hot against your slick skin. "You want more princess?"

You nodded frantically, your grip tightening on him.

"Please, Hyuck," you whined, your voice trembling.

A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest before he finally slipped two fingers inside you, slow and deliberate, letting you feel every inch of him. Your walls clenched around him immediately, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as he curled his finger just right, pressing against that perfect spot that had you seeing stars.

"There you go," he cooed, watching your body react to him. "Always take me so well, pretty girl."

His lips quickly made their way back to your clit, tongue flicking gently as he wrapped his lips around it, sucking you with a newfound passion.

The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of his mouth and fingers sending a hot, electric pulse through your veins. Your legs trembled, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the pressure in your core built higher and higher, coiling so tightly you thought you might snap at any second.

"Hyuck-" you choked out, your thighs tightening around his head.

He hummed against you, the sound vibrating through your entire body as his fingers quickened their pace, fucking into you with more intensity, more purpose. He could feel you getting closer, your body tensing, your moans turning into desperate, broken cries.

"That's it, pretty," he murmured against your heat, his voice rough with desire. "cum for me, baby."

And with one last flick of his tongue and a perfectly timed curl of his fingers, you shattered. The pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as your release hit you with blinding force. Your back arched off the edge, a strangled moan tearing from your throat as he worked you through it, not stopping until your body was shaking from the overstimulation.

Only then did he finally pull away, his fingers slipping out of you slowly, as he pressed one last kiss against your sore soaked pussy. He looked up at you, his lips glistening, a cocky smirk playing on his face.

"That's my girl," he murmured, bringing his fingers up to his lips and sucking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I’ll never get enough of how good you taste."

love letter from mae 💌 augegsgshsj 😵‍💫,, i wanted to add more to the end but i physically cannot bring myself to.. maybe one day a pt2 will be in the works if people actually enjoy this! lmk lmk lmk!

ty for reading!! ♥︎♪ヽ(*´∀｀)ﾉ

#mae fics #nct smut #haechan smut #nct x reader #haechan x reader #nct imagines #haechan hard thoughts #nct hard thoughts

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