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neocitylights · 4 months ago

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SUMMARY: Giving in to your boss relentless matchmaking attempts, you’re not sure what to expect upon agreeing to finally meet her son, Donghyuck, at the company’s upcoming Halloween party. Unsure if you’re even ready for a relationship, you also might still be a little too caught up by Haechan, an insufferable but charming one-night fling that keeps asking you out despite your refusals. There’s one thing you’re sure about—life is a funny thing, but yours definitely feels like a cosmic joke sometimes. GENRE: Romance, fluff, non-idol au, one night stand au, strangers to lovers WORD COUNT: 12k WARNINGS: Cursing, suggestive themes, implied sexual content

NOTES: Omg hi neocitylights second fic!! Please let me know what you think!! It’s gonna make my day!!

At first, it reads off as a simple, innocent email from your boss.

As you’d volunteered to help Mrs. Lee organize the company’s annual Halloween party, the first few paragraphs seem harmless enough—reading through the details of potential venues, catering options and decoration palettes selected by her, it truly is a simple, innocent email from your boss… until it isn’t.��

Scanning the words for one last time, a sigh escapes from your lips as you hit her last lines.

Also, don’t forget that I can’t wait for you to finally meet my son at the party! I’m sure that he’ll be delighted to meet you.

You’ve been working for Mrs. Lee for a little over a year by now and for the best part of it, her persistent matchmaking attempts for her son, Donghyuck, have been targeting you. It’s become a running joke around the small office, especially since every other week Mrs. Lee makes it a point to note how ‘absolutely perfect’ her son would be for you, and how he ‘knows all about you already’.

Though you’ve always taken it with stride, laughing it off whenever she mentions him, Mrs. Lee never wavered from her scheme.

Besides the fact that Donghyuck is absolutely adored by his mother, you don’t know much about him other than his name and a few bits and pieces of information very purposefully provided by your boss.

Oh, he’s a very smart boy. Yes, Donghyuck is a little ambitious, you know. He’s been single for a while.

Admittedly, the idea of dating your boss’ son seems like a ticking bomb waiting to explode, but since Mrs. Lee is one of the sweetest people you’ve met in life, it’s only fair to at least assume that she’s raised a decent guy.

Now that the party’s coming up, there’s no real way out of it.

If you’re being honest, your love life has been a little lacking lately. Given work and your busy routine, there hasn’t been much time to think about anything but crossing off the next item of your daily to-do list. Apart from the monthly team meeting with your co-workers and an occasional dinner out with your roommate or uni friends, the most action you’ve gotten recently is Haechan’s casual, annoyingly charming texts.

It’s funny to think about it now—the guy was supposed to be a one-time thing, just a night to blow off some steam after a long week.

In a way, he still is.

You hadn’t expected much after exchanging numbers at the doorstep of his apartment the next morning.

Not being a stranger as to how one night stands work, you couldn’t help the surprise when his first text came through just a few hours later. Haechan still is a one-time thing, but he’d somehow turned out to be funny and entertaining enough to convince you to stay in touch with him despite the casualness of your encounter.

Toying with each other in a flirty, playful game, sometimes Haechan leaves you a little intrigued and maybe too willing for a second round… if only you didn’t have your work life to worry about, that is.

So for now, your work and love life are on completely separate tracks, even if Mrs. Lee’s been working a little too hard to blur the lines in between.

As you get home a few hours later than usual, brain scrambled in a mess of food menus and guest names, you give in to collapsing on the couch with Alia, who’s already halfway through a pint of ice cream and an episode of Sex Lives of College Girls.

“How was work?” Alia asks, a smirk creeping onto her face. “No offense, but you kinda look… rough.”

“No more than usual, I guess,” you sigh, side-eyeing your roommate for a second as you kick your heels off. “I mean, other than Mrs. Lee being over the moon that her son’s finally meeting me, it was just another day.”

Alia raises her eyebrows, a spoonful of ice cream hovering midway through her mouth. “Wait, is this really a thing? I thought you were joking whenever you mentioned her hyping up her son for you.”

“Donghyuck is very real, very single and apparently the perfect match for me.” You roll your eyes, a chuckle escaping from your lips. “He’s going to the party and she’s been mentioning it every single time she spots me around the office.”

“Damn,” Alia snorts, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she playfully nudges you. “Who would’ve thought you’d be your own boss’ daughter-in-law, huh?”

“Shut up,” you groan, cheeks instantly warming up at your roommate’s laugh. “I love Mrs. Lee to bits but I don’t even know the guy.”

“But you will,” Alia says, giving you a knowing look. “It could be fun, you know? Maybe he is all she’s made him up to be and he’ll be your soulmate or something.”

You sigh, offering a pat to your friend’s thigh with an amused smile growing on your lips. “You’ve been reading too much booktok literature, Alia.”

As she grins in return, little did you know how stupidly right your roommate’s next words were.

“And you’ll live one, trust me.”

The following weeks flew by, keeping you busy enough with last minute plan changes and impromptu hunts for a work function appropriate Halloween costume. Much to your concern and Alia’s amusement, Mrs. Lee’s enthusiasm over your potential meeting with her son didn’t falter, instead leaving all of your co-workers in a similar buzz as the party approached.

Now, as you adjust the pink vest of your Barbie costume under the orange lights currently decorating the venue, you can’t help but feel a little antsy.

Especially after Mrs. Lee’s voice cuts through the crowd when calling your name.

Bracing yourself, you turn to find your boss striding towards you with a very familiar, eager gleam in her eyes. “Oh, there you are! Come on, I want to introduce you to someone!”

Mrs. Lee—who’s adorably dressed as Princess Leia—takes your arm, walking you through the crowd with such firm steps that you’d think that she’s waited her entire life for this exact moment. As fast as she guides you, your boss quickly comes to a stop by a group of her personal guests, who greet both of you with amused smiles.

“Darling, he’s just over there speaking with a few family friends,” Mrs. Lee murmurs, her arm still intertwined with yours. “Go grab yourself a drink and I’ll bring him over in a moment, hm?”

“Sure thing,” you say, trying to sound casual enough to mask how dazed you are watching her disappear into the crowd again.

A glass of wine later, the knot of expectation still sits in your stomach as you wait for them at the bar. Your eyes have been discreetly drifting over the room, anxiously anticipating the whirlwind that your boss will probably create for Donghyuck as soon as you’re within their sight.

On top of the bar’s counter, your phone buzzes.

Haechan 9:34PM Tonight is the naughtiest night of the year Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want to see me today

Reading the texts, you couldn’t help laughing at his cheekiness. Sometimes it feels like Haechan has a knack for knowing the exact, most inappropriate moment to make himself known. Being as insufferable as he is, it’s truly a wonder how the guy still manages to be so attractive even through texts that can rival a frat boy.

Momentarily ignoring your nerves, you start typing a quick response.

As you’re about to hit send, Mrs. Lee laugh hits your ears and you look up—

You blink, fingers hovering over the screen of your phone.

He’s standing right next to your boss, who has her arm around his and a smile as big as the sun on her face, clearly introducing him with an adoration you could feel from across the room.

He as in freaking Haechan, the guy you were just about to text and the guy you have been texting ever since a one-night at his place months ago. Haechan as in Mrs. Lee’s infamous, perfect for you, son.

Mrs. Lee finally catches your eyes, her face lighting up as she excitedly waves you over, the thrill of the moment thankfully leaving her oblivious to any signs of distress on your face. Heart drumming against your ears, you walk towards them with hesitant steps, still in disbelief over how absurd the entire situation is.

With a hand on your back, Mrs. Lee pulls you closer with an expression that can only be described as triumphant. “Oh darling, I’d like you to meet my son, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck finally turns to you, his eyes immediately flickering in recognition as he takes in your entire figure, from the stupid white cowboy hat on your head to the high-heeled pointed boots.

His face shifts, the brief flicker of surprise quickly getting replaced with amusement as he steps to stand by his mother’s side.

“So this is my Donghyuck, like I told you all about,” your boss continues, a hand on his shoulder as she tells him your name, positively beaming. “You two will get along wonderfully, I just know it.”

Unbeknownst to Mrs. Lee, Donghyuck is clearly suppressing his own reaction as extends a hand out, lips twitching and eyes alight with mischief upon you. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he starts smoothly. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Mrs. Lee here.”

“Oh, likewise,” you respond, gaze narrowed as you take his hand in a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, Donghyuck.”

Despite the clear amusement on his face as you discreetly stress his apparent real name, Haechan still doesn’t seem to give any other reaction away to your boss. It’s infuriating how good he seems to be at… whatever ridiculous situation this is. Poor Mrs. Lee, still riding on the high of her most awaited matchmaking accomplishment, stays unaware of the simmering tension between you and her son.

“I’ll leave you two to know each other, then,” she says, offering a cute wink before swiftly disappearing into the crowd as she’s done all night.

As soon as his mother is out of earshot, Haechan drops the act, his face instantly breaking into a slow grin as he steps closer. “So my mom was right about knowing a girl who’s just perfect for me.”

“And of course that out of billions of people on this Earth, you’d be my boss’ son.” You roll your eyes, arms crossing over your chest as a scoff escapes from your lips. “Because this is exactly how insane my life actually is.”

Donghyuck just laughs, clearly enjoying the situation despite your indignation. “Well, this isn’t exactly how I pictured seeing you again but you don’t see me complaining, do you?”

At the implication of your first and last meeting, you can’t help taking a second to actually see him.

It actually hasn’t been long, so Haechan still looks pretty much the same… and maybe that’s the problem. The racer jacket he’s wearing as costume makes him look so effortlessly cool, suiting him in a way that feels almost too fitting. From the black hair, now purple tipped and perfectly styled, to the tan skin and endearing moles on his cheeks, you realize that you might’ve daydreamed about him more than you’d like to admit.

It’s only when Haechan clears his throat, looking nothing but pleased, that you snap out of your trance.

You feel warmth creeping up on your neck but refuse to give him the satisfaction, frowning at his smug expression. “Don’t get too comfortable. You’re still just a random guy who’s been obnoxiously texting me weird stuff.”

“That’s mean, Barbie,” he teases, voice lowering just enough that only you can hear. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who gave me your number.”

“Because you asked,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I didn’t exactly plan on seeing you again.”

“Are you sure about that?” Haechan leans closer, the playful glint in his eyes growing stronger as he clicks his tongue. “Ah, it didn’t seem like it when you were begging—”

As your pulse quickens, body growing even warmer, you don’t think twice before impulsively covering his mouth with your hand. “I’m technically at work and your mother is my boss, so please shut your mouth.”

Haechan smiles against your palm, pressing his lips to your hand before you pull it away in panic, dreadfully searching the room for Mrs. Lee’s potential prying eyes. If you know your boss as well as you think, then you’d bet that she’s been watching every second of your interaction with her son with laser focus attention.

Quick to catch you, his grin only widens. “If you don’t want her to see then let’s get out of here.”

If you were to suddenly disappear with her son, Mrs. Lee sure wouldn’t mind.

Truthfully, you are ridiculously taken by the guy. After all, you have slept with him and it was one of the best nights you’d had in a long while. Haechan is witty, fun to talk to, and he doesn’t seem to hide who he really is. Unfortunately, he just also happens to be your boss’ son.

No matter how attractive and good at sex Haechan might be, you’re most definitely staying away from the ticking bomb.

You must stay away from the ticking bomb.

“Only in your dreams,” you finally retort, hoping that your face doesn’t expose your agitation as you finally turn around to leave.

Just as you move past him, Haechan leans over your shoulder, the whisper as loud as a scream to your ears.

“That’s exactly where I’ve been seeing you.”

You’d spent the rest of the party in a daze.

Trying your best to steer clear of both Mrs. Lee and her beloved son, you thoroughly focused on supervising every little corner of the venue. Maneuvering your way through the guests, you’d quietly made your escape a few hours later so nobody would notice your sudden absence.

If only Mrs. Lee hadn’t texted about your whereabouts halfway through your Uber ride, it’d have been a win.

Now finally at home, you barely step through the door before Alia appears from the kitchen, a mug in her hands as she snickers at your frazzled expression.

“I can’t tell if the party was a bust or not,” she says, taking a sip from her tea as she raises a curious eyebrow. “I’m scared of your answer but how was Mrs. Lee’s long-awaited party?”

Taking a few steps to slump onto the couch, you drop the cowboy hat and your bag to the floor, pressing a hand to your aching forehead as a sigh escapes from your mouth.

“The party itself was great, everything went according to the plan,” you start, pausing for a moment to brace yourself. “I also finally met Donghyuck.”

Alia’s eyes immediately light up with interest, fully invested in your ongoing drama. “The Donghyuck? Mrs. Lee’s son Donghyuck?”

You hum. As the exhaustion catches on, you can’t help a deadpan summary of your night. “You can also call him Haechan, I guess.”

Alia almost chokes on her tea, scrambling to put the mug down before she spills it rushing to sit beside you on the couch. “You’ve got to be shitting me!” she exclaims, eyes wide with disbelief. “Haechan as in that cute little guy you’ve been texting since that rooftop bar?”

“The one and only.” You sigh in exasperation, glaring at your friend as she suddenly bursts into a laugh. “I can’t believe you’re laughing. The universe is playing a cosmic sick joke on me and you’re laughing.”

“This is totally your booktok plot!” she beams, voice laced with amusement. “Turns out Mrs. Lee was right about you being perfect for her son.”

“Oh my God, don’t even start,” you groan, feeling your cheeks warm up for the millionth time of the day. “It was embarrassing. I had to pretend that we didn’t know each other while he was looking at me like this is the funniest thing in the world.”

“Are you for real?” Alia scoffs, frowning as if you’d grown two heads. “You were so into him that night. The fact that he has your number right now gives you away, girl.”

“I didn’t think I’d see him again,” you protest, still timid over the memory of your first meeting. “Besides, he’s my boss’ son, and—”

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, Haechan’s name bright and clear on the screen.

You hate his impeccable timing. You hate it so much.

Before you can even think, Alia quickly grabs the phone instead, mischief all over her face as she stands up to keep it away from you.

“I’m on my knees, Barbie—” She starts reading, comically pausing as she shoots you a wide-eyed look. “Oh my God, what the fuck—”

You sink further into the couch, feeling as if your body is ready to combust. “Stop it!”

“I’m on my knees, Barbie,” Alia repeats, purposefully highlighting every word as she continues with a grin curling on her lips. “Where am I taking you for our date? I’m free when you’re free.”

As your roommate drops the phone on your lap, you block the screen with a glare at her. “Don’t say a word.”

“I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours but this guy is down bad for you,” she points out, her face softening before she sits by your side again. “And you like him, so what’s up with the long face?”

There’s a brief pause in the conversation before you sigh, firmly shaking your head. “It’s too complicated,” you say, offering a meek shrug under Alia’s knowing eyes. “Plus, I really like my job. If anything happens, it might fuck things up, you know.”

Alia watches you for a second that feels way too long, then only nods in response with a quiet chuckle. “Alright. If you’re convinced.”

The thing is, you’re not convinced.

Something tells you that your friend knows that too.

It starts on a Monday after the fateful Halloween party.

Arriving at the office in the aftermath of your meeting with Haechan—or Donghyuck, as you know now—had your nerves hyping up the most dreadful scenarios that played in your head during the weekend.

While it’s true that Mrs. Lee is one of the kindest humans you’ve met, you’d be lying if her reaction to your interaction with her son didn’t worry you a little. Though she was none the wiser back at the party, you did wonder if Haechan actually told her anything or even if she noticed how absurd the conversation played out to be after the very polite introduction.

On top of that, you… kinda also left Haechan on read.

After an internal battle on whether you should simply reply and decline his invitation or downright just ignore him, you’d postponed an answer long enough to make it useless by now.

So it’s no wonder that you’re at the edge of your seat now, annoyingly aware of every person that passes by your little corner office, even after a few of your nosy co-workers stop by to ask if you really did meet Mrs. Lee’s handsome and smart son, Donghyuck.

Still, nothing could’ve prepared you to see Haechan in your office, leather jacket, black thick-rimmed glasses and a coffee tray in hand, entering the place as if he’s always been around.

“Good morning, Barbie,” he greets, flashing a cheeky smile at the apparent surprise on your face. “Don’t look so shocked. I’m just passing by to drop a little pick-me-up.”

Haechan hands one of the coffee cups and you cautiously accept with a sheepish nod, clearly taken aback by the gesture. “Thank you?”

As quick as he gets in, he’s immediately turning around to leave. You’re taking it as a secret to your grave, but you can’t help but feel a tip of disappointment as he walks to exit your office, though not without a last lingering glance over his shoulder.

You silently pray to every deity existent that Haechan doesn’t realize how feverish you suddenly feel.

Just before he leaves, a small laugh escapes from his lips as he shakes his head, an expression you can’t quite read on his face. “You’re really fucking cute, Barbie.”

On Wednesday, he does it again.

You’re conveniently on your way to drop a few documents for Mrs. Lee to sign when you catch sight of Haechan in the hallway, chatting animatedly with his mom as she’s returning from a business lunch with a few investors. It takes you a second to swiftly turn around, ready to rush back into your office when he spots you, calling out your name loud enough that half of the office must’ve heard.

“Finally a familiar face around here, huh?” He smiles, subtly taunting you despite the friendly facade. “You’ve got the best people working here, don’t you, Mrs. Lee?”

Mrs. Lee’s eyes immediately sparkled, glancing between the both of you with interest. “Oh, I certainly do.”

The interaction feels awfully similar to your meeting at the party. Standing beside your boss with the same mischievous gaze, Haechan’s eyes run through every little detail of your figure, visibly pleased with the turn of events.

“It's nice to see you again, Donghyuck,” you start, politely nodding at them as you hesitantly approach. “I’ve got some papers for you to sign, Mrs. Lee. I'll leave them on your desk, if you want?”

“No need, darling! Hand it over to Donghyuck, please,” your boss says, oblivious to your confusion if her grin is anything to go by.

Once with the folder in hands, Haechan flashes you a quick wink. “Thank you.”

You’re already racking your brain for a getaway excuse when Mrs. Lee huffs, playfully slapping her son’s arm. “You’re going to scare her away,” she chides, turning her attention to you as she sighs. “I know you’re always busy, darling, so we’ll let you go.”

“Right.” You smile tentatively, briefly clearing your throat. “Let me know if you need anything else, Mrs. Lee.”

Feeling his eyes on your back as you hurry back to the safety of your office, you secretly battle against a sudden need to reciprocate his attitude.

By Thursday, you’re kind of already expecting him.

Since his excuses have been a little too convenient to be coincidences, it doesn’t really surprise you to spot Haechan lingering around the office again, especially as he casually happens to bump into you at your lunchtime.

He manages to follow right behind you on the elevator, his cordial demeanor visibly shifting to the usual sassy one as soon as the doors close. With the thick-rimmed glasses and messy hair adding a nerdy touch to his confidence, you might have watched him a little more attentively today—at least, enough to notice that he’s wearing the same denim jacket from the night you met.

As he steps by your side, shoulders brushing against yours, Haechan sighs. “You haven’t told me where we’re going yet, Barbie,” he starts, a touch dramatic. “I’m in the mood for some sushi but I’ll go wherever you wanna go.”

You glance up at him, eyebrows raised in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Our date,” Haechan argues, clearly holding back a grin despite the deadpan tone lacing his voice. “You can pick the restaurant, I don’t mind.”

Feeling the proximity a little too much, his words send your brain into haywire. You’re still… very much aware of the unanswered texts on your phone, especially the most recent one sent just the night before.

“I didn’t expect to see you here again,” you lie, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible by rolling your eyes. “What brings you around this time?”

“I may or may not have left my laptop in Mrs. Lee’s office.” He shrugs, face breaking to a smirk. “Can you believe it? Good thing that I remembered about it.”

Taken by his casualness, you can’t hold back a chuckle. “Very convenient, if you ask me.”

“Are you implying something here, Barbie?” Haechan gasps, giving you a wide-eyed look as he leans over you. “I’m offended, you know. You make it sound like I’m taking advantage of the situation just to see you.”

You scoff, giving in to his attitude as a small smile breaks into your face. “That sounds unlikely.”

“Why didn’t you answer me last night, hm?” he mumbles, close enough that you can clearly see the little dots on his neck.

Your brain takes a turn at the sight, immediately betraying you with very vivid memories of your lips trailing through Haechan’s moles, all the way down to his chest—

The elevator’s chime saves you from a spiral.

As the smallest sigh leaves your mouth, Haechan’s question hangs in the air as you take a step back from him, now ready to hurry out of the cubicle. There’s a satisfied glint in his eyes, almost as if he knows exactly the effect he’s having on you, most definitely aware that he’s probably wearing you down.

Once the doors slide open, you’re quick to rush ahead of him, completely missing the weight of his gaze following you.

Almost as if to trick you, he makes a rather late appearance on Friday.

You spent most of the day sneaking glances around the office, frustration growing in your chest by each passing hour.

In a brief lapse of your sanity, you almost texted him during your lunch break, having briefly convinced yourself that it’d be mostly out of worry than anything else. Then, as Mrs. Lee bid you an early goodbye before leaving for one of her high-end club reunions, you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from asking about him.

Too focused on giving Yangyang a detailed explanation of his next errand, you don’t even notice when Haechan finally stops by your office, an entire box of your favorite bakery in hands as he waits for your attention.

As your intern recognizes him first, he briefly glances between you and Haechan with a knowing look before hurriedly making an escape with a lousy excuse.

“I think he knows something I don’t,” Haechan teases, casually taking your co-worker’s seat with a feigned innocent smile. “What’s up with the face, Barbie? Did you miss me?”

“You’re late,” you huff, a tip of irritation lacing your voice. “I thought you weren’t coming today.”

Faltering for a second as he processes your words, Haechan blinks in surprise. “Oh, you did miss me,” he says amusedly, leaning forward as his typical grin returns. “I bet you were waiting for me all day, weren’t you?”

Curiously pointing at the box to avoid the question, a smile slips through despite your efforts to keep it cool. “If this is not for me then you can leave right now.”

“I’m hurt you think I’d do this for anyone else but you.” He frowns, glaring at you in feigned offense. “You’re the only one for me, Barbie, you know that.”

You give him a playful eye roll, finally opening the lid to find an array of cupcakes that conveniently also happen to be your favorite flavors. “Who told you I liked these?” you ask, picking one up in delight. “I don’t think anyone here would know my usual bakery order.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Haechan scoffs, watching a little too attentively as you take a bite of a chocolate fudge cupcake. “I just happened to pass by this place and thought I could bring you a treat after a busy week.”

Raising an eyebrow, you pause in between a second bite. “The bakery is all the way across town.”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” he argues, a smirk soon growing on his face again. “We have more important things to discuss right now. How does tomorrow night sound for our date?”

“Tomorrow’s good,” you answer promptly, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible waiting for his reaction.

With his usual confidence flickering to genuine surprise, Haechan stares at you for a moment, looking so stunned that you can’t help but find pleasure in finally catching him off guard. Reaching out for another cupcake, you swipe a finger at the strawberry frosting, bringing it to your mouth with a knowing smile at him.

Haechan just laughs, a hint of disbelief in his eyes as he closes them in feigned agony. “You’re really driving me crazy, Barbie.”

“If that’s all you came here for, you can go now.” You gesture towards the door, avoiding his gaze as you mindlessly shuffle through some papers on your desk. “I still have work to do and you already scared my intern away.”

“I love it when you’re mean to me,” he sighs, grinning at your exasperated scoff with a hand over his heart. “I’ll only leave because you can’t seem to concentrate if I’m around.”

Sneaking a glance at him as he stands up, you can’t suppress a small smile. “Thank you for the cupcakes.”

“Promise me you’ll reply when I text you later,” Haechan presses, his playful demeanor sobering just enough to feel distinctively stubborn. “If you don’t, I’ll keep calling you until you pick up.”

You feign a tired sigh, trying to play off your amusement. “I promise, Donghyuck.”

For a second, Haechan doesn’t move, still standing in front of your desk—and over you—as the cheeky glint returns to his eyes. “I love it when you say my name.”

The remark makes your chest tighten, heart speeding up because you know exactly what he means with that. Shaking your head, you shoo him away with a frown. “Just go already!”

Walking backwards towards the exit of your office, Haechan laughs, pausing just at the doorway to shoot you one last wink. “See you tomorrow, Barbie.”

Once he’s gone, you take a breath and reach out for another cupcake.

Yeah, apparently staying away from the ticking bomb doesn’t seem like a solid plan anymore, you guess.

Haechan’s restaurant choice isn’t what you expect for a first date.

Tucked deep into a quiet street, the hole-in-the-wall place is cozy and small enough to feel oddly intimate. There’s a nice handful of people around and as soon as you step in, a grandma quickly ushers you to a corner table, a glimmer of recognition taking over her eyes when Haechan greets her with a warm smile.

Wearing a black shirt that fits him ridiculously nice, you can’t help your gaze from lingering on his frame for a little longer than usual today.

As Haechan talks animatedly with the restaurant’s grandma, the only thing you can seem to focus on is the three little open buttons over his chest—

The click of his tongue calls your attention, your eyes finally meeting as Haechan leans closer to your ear, a cheeky grin tugging at his mouth. “I said you should introduce yourself, Barbie.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you apologize, offering the grandma a regretful look before you bow politely, giving her your name. “I’m… Donghyuck’s date. It’s nice to meet you, grandma.”

The older woman hums, a hand reaching for your chin while thoroughly regarding you with curious eyes. “She’s really pretty, oh my,” she mutters after a second, soon offering Haechan a pointed look with a smile on her face. “Alright, I believe you now, Haechannie.”

Confused by their interaction as she leaves, you can only obey her orders to sit down. When Haechan picks up the worn-out menu, you blink. “What… was that?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he says smoothly, shaking his head as he winks. “I’ve been here a lot, do you trust me to order for you?”

At your agreement, Haechan waves for a waiter, smartly starting to list a rather hefty order while you take a second look around the place.

Aesthetically speaking, the restaurant doesn’t feel very promising. Despite being obviously family-owned with a very homey vibe to it, it does look a little run down with the faded pictures on the walls, peeled painting and worn-out, outdated furniture. Still, given its location and appearance, it’s surprisingly pretty packed with all kinds of people—and you do spot a few couples here and there too.

Choosing to trust Haechan either way, you’re still intrigued about how he’s become a regular in a place so off-the-grid.

“You just listed half of the menu without a single look,” you start, staring at him with a funny look once the waiter leaves. “You really must come here a lot.”

“I’d say at least a couple of times a month,” he answers, resting his forearms on the small table as he leans forward. “This grandma’s kimchi stew really changed my life.”

Amused by the sincerity of his voice, you chuckle. “Is that why she seems to love you so much? She was so happy to see you.”

Haechan grins, shrugging casually. “I used to work around this neighborhood, so she’s known me for a long time,” he explains, eyes narrowing playfully as he notes the sudden change on your face. “What’s with the look, Barbie?”

You shake your head, resting your chin on a hand as you study him with newfound attentiveness. “I’m just realizing that I’ve heard a lot about you, but I don’t know what you do for a living.”

“Wow, I thought Mrs. Lee did a better job pitching me to you,” he says, feigning indignation as you roll your eyes. “I own a record label with my friends. It’s an independent thing and not super big but we’re really good, so…”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, most definitely not expecting such an unusual answer. “Oh, that’s… actually very cool,” you admit, leaning just a tiny bit forward with a curious smile at him. “Any artist that I might know?”

As a dramatic sigh escapes from his mouth, Haechan locks a steady gaze on you, his voice genuine despite a playful touch. “I sincerely hope not because if you know him then I don’t stand a single chance with you.”

You can’t help bursting into a laugh at how serious he looks, leaning back against your seat as you shoot him a look. “Aren’t we on a date?”

“We are.” He nods, a soft but unmistakable intensity flickering on his face. “This is probably a good time to let you know that I’m not giving up on this, alright? Now that you’re in, you can’t get out.”

Your lips twitch, a smirk soon tugging at the corner of your mouth. “That sounds terrifying,” you tease, amused. “I think I’ll take my chances this time, though.”

The food arrives just in time to interrupt him, though the smirk that grows on his face is enough of an answer to you.

As the waiter unloads a loaded tray onto your table, dishes looking as delicious as it smells, your excitement grows with the warmth that fills the space between you. Haechan is quick to reach around the plates once the waiter’s gone, relying on your vote of confidence as he places a few dishes for you.

“Alright,” he says, seemingly satisfied with the full table. “We’ve got this, Barbie.”

“I don’t think we do,” you counter, eyes taking one last curious glance around before focusing on him. “Which one should I go for first?”

“Is that even a question?” Haechan clicks his tongue, offering you a bowl of rice before pointing to the biggest pot on the table. “The kimchi stew, baby. Go ahead and take a few bites with the rice.”

Following his instructions, you don’t know if the heat spreading through your body is solely from the food’s spiciness, the casualness of his new nickname for you or the deliberate, effortless confidence laced to his rather gentle command.

With his expectant eyes watching for a reaction, you pause in between a second bite, grinning fondly at him. “Don’t look so worried, it’s really good.”

“You’re really a woman after my own heart,” he says, sounding as if he’d just had an epiphany. “Oh, my mom really knew what she was doing…”

“Considering we already knew each other, I think we can take the credit for this.” You shrug, feeling suddenly shy over the whole ordeal with Mrs. Lee. “Have you ever told her? That we’ve met before the party?”

“No, but I have a feeling that she knows. My mom always knows everything.” Haechan chuckles, eyes shining with mischief as he raises an eyebrow, leaning back on his seat. “Have you told her?”

“Are you kidding me?” you ask, voice dropping into a whisper as if the entire restaurant might overhear. “How am I supposed to tell my boss that I had a one night stand with her son without knowing it was actually her son?”

Giving a full laugh, there’s a hint of delight on his face as he smirks. “I mean, it was only a one night stand because you wanted it to be,” Haechan argues, a little too smug. “I have been trying, you know.”

“Let’s just not talk about that,” you cut off, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a flustered reaction as you chuckle nervously. “Since you already know what I do, you should tell me more about your label, please.”

Despite Haechan’s playful glare, making sure you know that he’s aware of your not-so-subtle deflection, the conversation quickly shifts to his job. Much like the night you first met at the bar, you’re completely entertained by his little anecdotes, taken by the humorous way he recounts his friendship stories and work mishaps with Mark, Johnny and Jaehyun.

It almost feels like he’s cracking the edges of your hesitance, his personality disarming you so easily that you can’t help but wonder why you’ve spent so much time keeping him at arm’s length—or if you ever did in the first place.

As the evening flies by, only leftovers forgotten around the table now, silence lulls between you for a moment.

Maybe you’re a little too aware of him, but noticing the sleeves of Haechan’s shirt starting to slide down his arms as he piles up a few empty bowls, you act before your brain can stop you.

“Wait,” you call softly, reaching out to hold his forearm. “Hold still for me?”

Haechan freezes mid-reach, something you can’t quite read in his eyes as he watches you push one sleeve back up, your fingers brushing against his skin by folding the fabric neatly into place. He willingly extends his arm when you move to the other sleeve, straightening it with the same care as you try to disregard his steady gaze locked on your figure.

When you let him go, Haechan slumps into his seat with a bemused chuckle. “You’re really making things harder for me, Barbie.”

As grandma’s loud and cheerful voice suddenly cuts through the restaurant, you’re saved by the bell seeing her approach your table, her face shifting to a frown as she looks between both of you. “Why did you eat so little?”

Though she doesn’t seem to notice the weirdly tense mood, your cheeks are still burning over his words as Haechan silently nods at you to lead the conversation.

“I ate quite a lot, grandma,” you start, reassuring her with a timid smile. “It was really, really delicious. The best food I’ve ever had.”

She coos at you for a second, quickly moving on to playfully swat Haechan’s shoulder with a glare. “Why did you take so long to bring your girlfriend here? That’s not something a nice boy like you should do.”

A grin takes over his face, Haechan giving you a knowing look before he nods eagerly at the older woman. “I promise to bring my girlfriend more often now, grandma.”

“You should leave if you’re done already,” she reprimands lightly, starting to set the empty dishes on a tray with a click of her tongue. “Don’t keep hogging my table like you always do with those friends of yours.”

After resisting your several attempts of help, the restaurant’s grandma soon walks you to the door, bidding goodbye with a kiss to both yours and Haechan’s cheeks as she makes him promise to come back soon again.

Stepping outside, the silence between you is filled with a strange mix of both ease and anticipation.

Save from a few partygoers coming and going, the street is mostly quiet, lights casting a warm glow around you despite the evening’s chill. With the realization that the night’s finally over, you aren’t quite sure what to expect of Haechan now—given that most of your interactions were built through a game of push-and-pull, it almost feels like you’ve reached the climax of a story that’s just started.

Completely unaware of your skepticism, he falls into step beside you with a dramatic sigh. “I think you should let me take you home.”

“You’re walking me to my car right now,” you say, rolling your eyes as an amused smile grows on your face. “I already told you a million times that I drove here.”

Haechan sighs again, his shoulders slumping for added effect. “Actually, I think you should take me to your home.”

You give him a look, ignoring the warmth spreading through your neck by feigning exasperation. “You also drove here, Donghyuck.”

“You’re really missing the big picture here, Barbie,” he groans, throwing his head back in feigned frustration. “Are you really going to reject me again? When are you going to stop pretending you don’t like me?”

As you shake your head, a smirk threatens to break your facade. “You said you like it when I’m mean to you.”

“I do,” Haechan says without missing a beat, sobering up to a serious expression despite the mischievous glint in his eyes. “I like it so much you can be the mean one this time.”

The implication behind his words make you pause for a second, feeling a little flustered despite the scoff that escapes from your mouth. “You’re unbelievable.”

Approaching your car soon enough, Haechan just watches as you unlock the doors and slide into the driver’s seat, quickly stepping forward to block you from closing yet. Looking up at him, you hope that the dim lights of the parking spot are enough to disguise your agitation.

With a hand on the roof of the car, he leans down just enough to meet your eyes. “Remember you promised to reply to my texts now,” Haechan insists, a smug smile growing on his face. “What’s gonna happen if you don’t reply?”

You give him a small, challenging grin. “You’re going to keep calling me until I pick up.”

“That’s right.” He nods, giving a satisfied chuckle. “You’ll let me know when you get home safe, won’t you?”

With a half-hearted snort, you nod back. “Yes, Donghyuck.”

Instead of answering, Haechan regards you for a second before extending a hand out, pushing the fallen strap of your top back in place with a feather-like touch to your upper arm.

As quick as it happens, he taps the roof of the car and closes the door for you, offering one last grin. “I’ll talk to you later, Barbie.”

Well, he did try to—which didn’t mean you let him.

At home, you reveled in watching Haechan’s name blowing up your phone, just for the sake of keeping him on his toes.

Barbie 10:44AM If you’re in a meeting then STOP texting me

Haechan grins at your message, his attention completely absorbed by his phone while Johnny and Mark debate something about winter releases in the back of his mind.

Gathered in Johnny’s office for a monthly meeting, the scene was familiar enough to allow him to zone out in your favor—while Mark was running his mouth away about a few potential songs, Johnny occasionally interjecting every now and then, Haechan quietly focused on pestering a few texts out of you.

In the following days of your date, he couldn’t seem to get enough of the familiar sharp, flirty back-and-forth between you, especially now knowing that you secretly enjoy it. So much that he takes a backseat in his friends’ conversation, unaware of his oldest friend’s reprimand until Mark waves a hand to his face, snapping his fingers as to pull him back to reality.

Haechan looks around Johnny’s office for a second, putting his phone down with a dismayed sigh. “I already said I’ll agree with whatever you guys decide.”

Mark and Johnny exchange amused looks, the latter raising an eyebrow at his friend with a mischievous chuckle. “Sure, so you do agree to leaving the higher percentage to Mark and I, right?”

At the youngest’s guilty grimace, Mark bursts a laugh before swatting his shoulder. “Dude, you’ve been grinning at your phone like an idiot for like, 30 minutes now,” he teases, a hint of confusion laced to his humorous tone. “You never shut up during our meetings, what’s going on?”

With a dramatic pause, Haechan looks between his two friends, a smirk soon growing on his face. “Alright, if you guys want to know so badly—”

Johnny snorts, immediately cutting him off with a playful look. “I didn’t ask anything.”

“If you guys want to know so badly,” he repeats pointedly, rolling his eyes at Johnny’s laugh. “You know that girl from the bar I’ve been talking to? Well, she’s the girl my mom tried to set me up with at the Halloween party.”

Haechan can’t help laughing at his friends’ reactions, both of them visibly puzzled by the half-assed burst of information. Johnny’s the one to break the silence first, an amused scoff escaping from his mouth.

“One of these days your mouth’s gonna get you in trouble,” he says, seemingly processing his friend’s words before leaning forward on his desk. “Let me see if I got this right—the girl from the bar is your mother’s employee… is that it?”

Mark raises an eyebrow, pausing for a second before his jaw drops. “Wait—what?”

“Ding ding ding! Points for Johnny!” Haechan jokes, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. “Turns out she works for my mom all this time and I just didn’t know.”

Johnny chuckles, shaking his head at the youngest’s antics. “You know what? That does sound like something that would only happen to you.”

“So basically, you’re telling us you hooked up with your mom’s employee?” Mark insists, a mix of amazement and shock on his face as Haechan proudly grins in response. “Man, that’s crazy. What are the odds?”

“How did she take it?” Johnny asks, narrowing his eyes. “Knowing you, I bet you were insufferable and freaked her out.”

Trying to play it cool with a nonchalant shrug, a very clear image of your Barbie dressed self pops in his mind as he chuckles. “I mean, she did pretend to not know me, but it was fun.”

The oldest hums, his curiosity peaked despite the careful approach. “So… what now? You guys are dating or what?”

Haechan falters, the smile on his face slipping for a second before catching himself. “We’re not dating… yet,” he admits, dragging out the words as if to make them believable. “We went on a date a few days ago but she’s still… a little skeptical, you know.”

Mark snorts, rolling his eyes. “Skeptical of you? What a surprise.”

“Shut up, she’s just figuring out if I’m serious or just messing around,” Haechan groans, shooting his friend a peeved look. “I mean, I’m obviously serious but she might think I’m just playing games or something.”

“She’s not wrong, though,” Johnny points, a teasing smirk on his face. “Again, if I know you, you are probably playing games.”

“Yeah, but not like that!” he whines, huffing loudly as he slumps against the chair. “This is just me being charming. There’s a difference.”

Mark raises an eyebrow, grimacing. “Is there, though?”

Haechan pauses, opening his mouth to reply but quickly closing it again as a comeback escapes him. For a brief moment, he feels and looks genuinely dumbfounded, which is definitely a rare and mildly entertaining sight for his two older friends. Though he’d never admit it, there’s no denying that Mark and Johnny planted a little seed of uncertainty in his head.

Crossing his arms, Johnny can’t help but laugh at his sullen expression. “Have we finally broken you?”

“No, you haven’t,” he fires back, voice remarkably resembling a bratty child. “I’m just… plotting.”

“Can I give you one last word of advice?” Johnny asks, toning the conversation down to a more serious note with a knowing glance at the youngest. “You should probably put yourself in her shoes. I know it must’ve been fun for you to find out who she is, but she does work for your mom. Do you get it?”

After a brief moment of silence between them, Mark lets out a low whistle, visibly impressed at the words. “Damn, that was a good thought.”

“Ugh, alright, I get it,” Haechan concedes, the corner of his mouth threatening a grin. “I’ll try to play it cool… for her.”

The conversation is cut short by the buzz of his phone against the desk, drawing everyone’s attention as it lights up with a familiar nickname.

Barbie 10:56AM I can’t believe you actually listened to what I said

Mark and Johnny exchange a second look watching Haechan’s grin widen, a look on his face that’s enough to tell them that he’s far from playing it cool like promised.

It just happens to be one of those weeks.

As you walk through the lobby, leaving the office much later than usual for a Friday, you feel your shoulders heavy with exhaustion. After days of nonstop meetings, tight deadlines and constant phone calls due to an unexpected slip of your co-workers, all you want is to go home, kick your heels off and forget about the existence of numbers and currencies for a while.

Still, despite how worn-out you feel, the sight of Haechan standing by his car just outside the building rises a hint of excitement in your chest.

With your surprise taken by anticipation—especially after the few days where your interaction had been limited to his insufferable messages—you can’t help but feel relieved to see him. Though there hadn’t been time for much else, you’d still caught yourself thinking about him more often than you cared to admit.

You’re also not admitting any time soon that Haechan’s the easiest, most fun part of your routine too.

In the stupor of your fatigue, you take in his fluffy brown jacket and the squared glasses on his face, making him look so warm and cuddly that you don’t even think twice before throwing your arms around his shoulders in a hug.

Feeling Haechan’s confusion through his hesitation to hold you back, a sigh escapes from your mouth as you tighten the hold and bury your face against his neck, seemingly enough to tell him something.

“You’re being too nice to me, I’m worried,” he jokes lightheartedly, a contrast to his frown as he attempts a look at your face. “Come look at me, please?”

His hands are still running up and down your back in the gentle embrace as you glance up, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Haechan greets, his usual teasing tone softened with concern. “What’s wrong? I was expecting a long face and maybe an insult, not the best hug I’ve had in my entire life.”

“I’m just… really tired.” You chuckle humorlessly, too quiet. “This week was hell and my brain’s completely fried, I’m sorry.”

As his face shifts to something you can’t read, Haechan hums. “I was thinking about putting some food in you,” he starts, his hands moving to your arms almost soothingly. “But if you’re too tired, then I can take you ho—”

“No,” you interrupt right away, shaking your head as a familiar warmth heats your cheeks. “I’m starving and… I wanted to see you.”

He blinks, a slow grin growing on his face as he clutches his chest in the usual dramatic fashion. “The things I’d do for you, Barbie…” Haechan groans, back to his playful nature. “I know just the place. Do you trust me?”

You watch as he extends a hand, huffing a laugh before taking his hold. “Yeah.”

There’s something unexpectedly tender in the way Haechan takes the lead then, effortlessly building the conversation with a touch of softness you hadn’t witnessed before with him. Though the drive is fairly quick, his smart quips slipping every now and then to still tease you, the feeling that maybe this moment holds a whole different meaning to your heart doesn’t escape you.

The ramen stand is nestled just by the river, people scattered around under the yellow lights as the buzz of conversation and clinking glasses mingles with the faint rush of water nearby.

As both of you weave through the crowd, Haechan still holding tight to your hand as he leads the way, the air gets warmer enough to make you salivate at the lingering aroma of broth and grilled meat. With a perfect view of the river, he’s quick to spot an empty table, moving around before gesturing for you to take the stool first.

Eyeing the table for a second, you hesitate for a second before speaking up. “Can’t I sit beside you?”

Haechan pauses, still holding the stool as he glances up at you, his furrowed eyebrows instantly melting to a knowing smile. “You love me, don’t you?”

You scoff, brushing past him to take the seat with a grin betraying you. “Don’t bother, then.”

“No, no, no,” he counters, quickly sliding his own stool next to yours before dropping into the seat with a chuckle. “Are you kidding? Who am I to deny you something?”

As you pretend to ignore him, focusing on the vendor for the moment, Haechan doesn’t seem phased by it as he leans closer, sneaking glances at you while casually placing the order under another vote of confidence.

Once you’re alone again, he sighs with a feigned glare at your direction. “So… do I have to talk with Mrs. Lee for overworking you?”

You laugh, the sound coming off a little worn out despite your amusement. “It’s not your mother’s fault,” you reply, shaking your head with a deep breath. “I don’t think she even knows what happened. If she did, she’d definitely scold me for working so late.”

“As she should,” Haechan argues, eyes suddenly turning a little too serious. “If whatever’s happening is giving you too much trouble, you should tell her.”

Tilting your head as you lean forward, a smile tugs at your mouth. “Are you worried about me?”

“Yeah, actually,” he admits, grinning mischievously unlike his deadpan tone. “I am obsessed with you for a reason, after all.”

“You really are crazy,” you joke, not resisting a laugh as you quickly place a finger over his mouth just as he’s about to speak. “Please, don’t say you’re crazy for me.”

With a dramatic sigh, Haechan pulls back from you with a dirty look. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“I know you’re not.” You smile, faltering for a second as the moment seems to suddenly shift with the softness laced to your voice. “I mean, I’m starting to believe you’re not. I… hope you’re not, so…”

A mix of emotions seem to flicker through his face at your words, enough to visibly leave Haechan a little floored while the vendor approaches with the food, the timing for an answer lost as the man places the steaming bowls of ramen and grilled skewers between you.

He clears his throat as the vendor leaves, shifting his attention to the food for a second. “Let’s make a bet,” Haechan suddenly starts, resting his elbows on the table as he leans forward. “This is going to be the best ramen you’ve ever had so you’ll let me take you as my plus one to my mom’s Holiday dinner.”

You frown confusedly at his impromptu offer, unsure if he’s actually serious about it. “What?”

“You heard me,” he counters, sounding firmer now as a mischievous smile brightens his face. “If this is the best ramen you’ve ever had, we’ll go to Mrs. Lee’s Holiday dinner together.”

If Mrs. Lee’s annual Halloween party is already highly anticipated by her employees and associates alike, you can safely say that Mrs. Lee’s annual Holiday dinner is an experience of its own. Having attended your first one the year before, just a few months after you’d been hired, it made you wonder if you’d actually last in the job.

First, because it officially marked the start of your boss’ matchmaking attempts—specifically after Haechan bailed on her at the last minute—and second, because it’s kind of… a big deal.

The Holiday dinner is quite fancy, packed with the corporate A-list Mrs. Lee works with.

So you can’t help but hesitate, raising a doubtful eyebrow at him. “That’s silly! Aren’t you going either way?”

Haechan clicks his tongue, voice flat as if he’s stating the obvious. “If it’s not with you, not really.”

“Well, considering you bailed last year, you should probably attend this one,” you argue, pursing your lips to hold back a smile. “Besides, what makes you think I wouldn’t lie just to get out of this?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Haechan grins, leaning closer with a challenging look at your direction. “If you truly want me at this boring dinner, you won’t lie.”

As you shake your head, a laugh escapes before you can stop it. “Are you really placing your cards on a bowl of ramen right now?”

“This is not just a bowl of ramen, Barbie,” he says, gesturing dramatically at the bowl. “It’s the bowl of ramen. You should’ve learned by now that I don’t mess around with good food.”

You pick up the chopsticks, the corner of your mouth twitching from holding back your amusement. “I’ll try it with one condition,” you offer, narrowing your eyes. “If I don’t like it, you owe me something.”

Haechan snorts, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Just name it and I’ll do it even if you like it.”

“I’ll tell you later,” you reply, pausing before you take a first bite, dragging the moment out just to spite him.

Even if you were a good liar, it most definitely wouldn’t be worth it—it almost feels like the taste explodes in your mouth and if Haechan’s reaction says anything, a smirk slowly growing on his face by each second, your expression is probably gives you away.

As he chuckles to himself, Haechan looks nothing but satisfied while stirring his own bowl. “I told you so, baby.”

The river’s gentle waves sound like background music as the conversation eases between you, the meal wrapping up in no time with Haechan feeding a few remaining pieces of meat to a curious kitty that sneaks around your feet under the table.

Taken by the warmth of a full stomach and the exhaustion of your hellish week, you scoot closer to him, enough to lean against Haechan’s side as your head falls on his shoulder.

Quick to welcome you, he wraps an arm around your back before pulling you even closer. “Tired?”

“A little,” you mumble, closing your eyes for a second before chuckling. “Can I ask you a stupid question?”

He nods, hands running up and down your back now. “Yeah, baby.”

“How come you’ve got two names?” you ask, giving him a funny look as he laughs. “I mean, if your real name is Donghyuck, where did Haechan come from?”

“When we started the label, I used to sing some of the guide tracks of our projects,” Haechan explains, smiling at the surprise on your face. “I didn’t want to use my real name if someone ended up using it, so I made one up.”

“It fits you,” you say, sighing as you close your eyes again. “I love your real name, too.”

Despite the small grin curling his lips, there’s a flicker of something more serious in Haechan’s eyes. “You love me too?”

Instead of indulging his teasing, you glance up at him with a knowing smile. “Thank you for tonight, Donghyuck,” you start, using his real name with a touch of softness that feels a little different. “I really needed this.”

Haechan regards you for a second, quietly watching for a second before he chuckles fondly. “Anytime, Barbie,” he murmurs, squeezing you against his side with a hum. “You know that, don’t you?”

As you look out at the river, cozy and warm in his hold as the yellow lights shimmer against the water, the answer comes as quickly as the waves crashing nearby.

You know now.

Barbie 9:26PM Are you busy?

9:26PM Look who it is Never busy for you What do I owe the pleasure baby

Barbie 9:27PM Hi Hyuck I hope I’m not interrupting anything

9:27PM I’m Hyuck now??? 😀

Barbie 9:27PM Don’t be insufferable about it I was just wondering if you’re free tomorrow night?

9:29PM Are you asking me on a date? Am I dreaming right now??

Barbie 9:29PM You should probably pinch yourself then Maybe you could come over for dinner? I’ll even cook for you this time

9:30PM You’re so lucky my schedule is clear baby I’m all yours if you want it

Barbie 9:30PM I do want it

9:30PM You do??

9:31PM I’ll call until you pick up Barbie

9:35PM You want me???

Outside your apartment, Haechan doesn’t realize how antsy he feels until the bottle of wine nearly slips from his fingers, fidgeting impatiently while waiting for you to open the door. With the faint sound of music slipping through, a song he doesn’t really recognize playing inside, the entire situation feels like a ridiculous, senseless fever dream.

At this point, he doesn’t know what to expect.

Thinking back from the first night you’d spent together to the absurd twist of events that followed at his mother’s Halloween party, he’s strangely unsure of… well, whatever today can possibly mean.

So much that Haechan swears his brain short-circuits as soon as the door opens—wearing a dress he’s very much familiar with, looking like the perfect picture of his wildest, most vivid memories, you smile knowingly at him, taking the surprise on his face with a hint of satisfaction.

“You must take pleasure in my suffering,” he starts solemnly, his dramatic sigh earning a laugh from you. “I’m having full flashbacks right now.”

Rolling your eyes, you step aside to let him in. “Good evening, Donghyuck.”

A few steps into your apartment, he looks over his shoulder as you follow him to the living room. “Are you trying to tell me something?” Haechan pauses, the question soon followed by a coy smile. “Baby, all you need to do is ask. I’ve told you—”

“Get your mind off the gutter,” you cut off, attempting to hide your amusement with a scoff. “I invited you for dinner, didn’t I?”

He chuckles, setting the wine bottle on the coffee table with a quick glance around your place. “You didn’t specify what kind of dinner, though.”

At the subtle suggestion in his voice, you shoot him a withering look. “The kind that involves food, Donghyuck,” you argue, a snicker escaping from your lips. “Unless you want to starve tonight, then I can—”

“Alright, alright,” Haechan interrupts, holding his hands up in surrender with a smirk. “I promise to behave from now on.”

You huff, raising an eyebrow at him. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

While you head into the kitchen, Haechan lingers around your living room for a moment, taking in the little details of your apartment. From a collection of candles by the TV, packed bookshelves to an array of pictures on the walls, the small place feels very cozy, somehow so unmistakably you.

It’s only when he follows you into the kitchen, leaning against the counter, that Haechan remembers your roommate—eyes immediately spotting a polaroid glued to the fridge, the image showing you in a birthday hat, squeezed in a hug between the girl and a lanky, tall guy.

He chuckles at the picture, your name paired with a + Alia & Jungwoo on the bottom. “Where’s your roommate, by the way?”

“She’s in Vegas with her boyfriend,” you explain, glancing over your shoulder with an amused laugh. “Apparently they got married by Elvis last night? They sent me pictures and everything.”

Haechan gapes for a second, a playful whistle following. “Damn, we’ll have to step up the game in our wedding, then.”

“I’d have to accept it first, which I’m not planning to do,” you snort, giving him a look. “Set the table for me, would you? The plates are in the cabinet on your right.”

As you finally sit down to eat, settled at the coffee table instead in a similar set-up to your ramen date, Haechan can’t help stealing a few glances at you. There’s something about the moment that feels too natural, an ease between you that sends his mind to places he still isn’t sure you’re at.

Watching you take a sip of the wine a little too attentively, a hum pleased hum escaping from your lips, the words slip before Haechan can stop them. “I told my mom that we already knew each other before the Halloween party.”

You choke with the wine, falling into a coughing fit as your eyes widen at him. “What? Why would you do that?”

“She’s known for a while,” Haechan continues, smiling lightly at your reaction. “Remember the day I started visiting the office to see you?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you scoff, somehow looking caught between confusion and shock. “It’s been like… almost a month by now. Are you telling me she’s known this entire time?”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his own glass. “You’re so clueless, Barbie,” Haechan teases, bumping his shoulder against yours. “I thought you’d notice the day you met both of us at the office. She wasn’t being very subtle about it.”

With a defeated groan, you shoot him a timid glance. “How much does she know?”

“Who do you think I am? I’m not disclosing my sex life to my mother,” he protests, frowning dreadfully as you burst into a laugh. “I only told her we met at a bar, exchanged numbers, and that we talked every once in a while.”

“She didn’t mention anything,” you start, looking a little apprehensive. “Like, she tried to set me up with you for so long. I would’ve thought she’d say something about it knowing that we… you know.”

“That might have been on me? I asked her to not say anything,” Haechan answers hesitantly, a half apologetic smile curling on his lips. “I didn’t want to put you in trouble at work because we had something going on—and I know you were a little hesitant because of it, so…”

You watch him for a brief second, long enough for his mind to overdrive. “We should eat before the food gets cold.”

Despite feeling completely enamored by your sudden little spiel, Haechan swallows a groan of frustration when you start listing the impromptu menu, the moment now broken as the conversation takes another route.

The food’s cleared when the mood subtly shifts again, half of the wine bottle gone while your playlist comes down to softer, slower songs.

As you shift closer to him, both still sitting on the floor of your living room, he can’t help but savor how shy you look. “So… how did you like it?”

Haechan tilts his head to take a better look at your face, his grin widening at your eye roll at his antics. “I was wondering if you’re open for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“It depends,” you answer, voice a tone cheekier despite how quiet it sounds. “I’ve got tomorrow off. Are you staying or leaving after breakfast?”

He exhales a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re driving me crazy for real, Barbie.”

On your knees, you move closer just enough to cup Haechan’s face, pressing a tentative, soft kiss to his lips. Taken by surprise, it takes a second for the pin to drop in his brain, warmth spreading through his body like wildfire as soon his arms close around your waist, pulling you closer until you’re settled on his lap.

As he leans into your touch, breaking the kiss with a sigh from you, Haechan can’t help a grin. Catching your breath with your forehead resting against his, you laugh at his dazed expression, pressing a smooch to his cheek.

With a blink, he groans playfully. “Oh, I’m definitely staying for breakfast now.”

You smile softly, shaking your head but not pulling away from him. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” Haechan murmurs, hands brushing down your back as he tilts his head up, lips just barely touching yours. “Another one, please?”

Giving him another quick kiss, you smile against his mouth, lingering closer for a second. “I think Jungwoo’s got a few t-shirts here that should fit you.”

“You have another man’s clothes in your home?” he asks, feigning an irked frown as his head falls back in a dramatic fashion. “Oh, I’m going to be sick.”

Though the smile on your face gives you away, you still don’t resist rolling your eyes at his antics. “Are you done?”

Shaking his head, Haechan offers you his habitual grin. “I’m never done.”

When you don’t immediately respond, the silence shifts the atmosphere for a bit. Watching as your gaze softens, you take him by surprise brushing your fingers against his cheek, purposefully over the moles on his face.

Your voice is quieter now, almost warm with sincerity as you speak up. “Thank you for coming over, Hyuck.”

Trying to play it off as best as he can, heart pounding against his chest, Haechan chuckles fondly. “I guess that means you’re stuck with me now.”

“I guess so.” You laugh, eyes sparkling at the unspoken promise. “You don’t seem too upset about it, though.”

As he tightens the hold around your frame, bringing you closer again, Haechan feels you relax into his embrace. The agreement settles between you as easily as the evening ends, his lips pressing a final kiss to your forehead without much words—just your shared understanding and quiet certainty.

“Can’t be upset when I’m exactly where I want to be, Barbie.”

The car rolls to a stop outside the beautifully decorated venue, Christmas lights casting a soft glow at the grand entrance of Mrs. Lee’s lavish Holiday dinner.

As he turns off the engine, Hyuck still seems a little taken by the vibrant pink of your gown, glancing over at you with a very familiar look.

“Once we walk through that door, it’s over for you,” he jokes, though a hint of something else betrays the playfulness of his voice. “Are you sure about this?”

Leaning over the console, you kiss him a little too forcefully, a sound of protest escaping from Haechan’s lips when you pull back. “I’m sure, Hyuckie,” you answer, giggling at the look on his face. “We should go before someone thinks we’re doing something in here.”

A grin takes over his face, looking a little too invested in your scenario. “Baby, that’s the greatest idea you’ve had—” Haechan stops himself at the slap on his arm, laughing as he unlocks the doors. “Alright, I got it, I’m sorry.”

Outside, he helps you adjust the straps at the back of your dress, pressing a last kiss to your shoulder before sliding his hand into yours. “Let’s go, Barbie.”

Together, you head towards whatever surprises the night might hold.

EXTRA: SCREENTIME

MASTERLIST

#lee haechan #haechan #lee haechan x reader #haechan x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct fanfic #haechan fanfic #lee haechan fanfic #neocitylights

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wqlfstqr · 3 months ago

Text

◟𖥻 before falling in love : percy jackson

▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

Percy finds a list y/n made in order to fall in love, he's determined to be the one to complete it.

warnings: briefly hinted cabin 7 reader

author: this is inspired by the book mi conquista tiene una lista by Inma Rubiales. Recommended if you like cheesy romcoms (as i do) and can read in spanish !!

Percy didn’t mean to find it, really. He didn’t mean to pry into her things; it felt like an invasion of privacy. But she was the one that had sent him to look for a paintbrush while she was painting, and he wasn't at fault if said paintbrush was beside a piece of paper that called for his attention.

'things someone has to do before I fall in love'

At first, he wants to go and tease her about it, but as he starts reading, he realizes this is his opportunity.

He had been in love with her for so long he couldn't even pinpoint the exact moment. He has tried to get her to notice, but either she is too oblivious or she acts like it.

But this list- this list is exactly what Percy needed. He can't tell her, of course, but he is sure that he can check off all the boxes in her list. Then, that's going to show her that he is at least worth a date.

"Percy, did you find my paintbrush?" she calls from out of the cabin, he quickly pockets the piece of paper on his jeans and takes the brush to go with her.

it is no big deal, he's just going to take the list with him to make sure he can follow it. She won't realize.

1. sings with me (even if they can't sing well)

Percy loves watching her in her element, how she gets absorbed once she's in front of the easel, the way her brush runs through the white canvas, how her brows furrow together when she makes a mistake that surely no one but her is able to notice.

She sings when she's distracted, and percy loves it. Her voice is just perfect. And somehow, she always seems to know every song playing on the radio.

And he always finds an excuse to just sit there and watch her as she paints. It's a wonder how she hasn't realized how utterly in love he is, because every time he looks at her with such love in his eyes that by this point, everyone in camp knows about it.

Sometimes he helps her, mostly when she can't seem to find the paintbrush or pallete she needs, which is why he even found the list to begin with and- talking about the list! Percy remembers exactly what the first point was.

Sing with her. Percy doesn’t like singing, he's sure that didn’t come with the list of talents provided by Poseidon. He thinks his voice is terrible and even the idea of singing and disturbing the beautiful sound of her voice was just wrong.

So he starts small, humming along the music. He recognizes this one. That's a first. Even y/n seems surprised as she pauses for a moment, a small smile tugs at her lips before she goes back to painting, but Percy swears he sees the spark of amusement in her expression.

"You know this one?" she asks, her tone light and teasing. "Come on, sing with me"

"I’m not a singer" he mutters, immediately stopping his humming. "In fact, i'm terrible at singing."

"Who said you had to be a good singer? It’s not an audition" she teases, picking up a clean paintbrush and holding it out to him like a microphone. "here."

Before he can even think about protesting, the chorus of the song kicks in, and she starts singing, her voice clear and cheerful. Percy groans, but he picks up the paintbrush as he starts humming again.

She grins widely. "See? it's not that hard"

"I’m still not singing, no way" he insists, though his voice is softer now, the edges of his reluctance smoothing out just by the sight of her smile.

"Oh, you will" she says confidently, twirling the paintbrush and pointing it at him like a challenge. "Come on, It’s a duet. You can’t say no."

And he really can't, not because he cares about any duet whatsoever but just because he can't ever say no to her.

Before Percy knows it, the words spill out of him, hesitant at first, but then stronger as he loosens up. He's Slightly off key, but she doesn’t seem to care. She cheers him on, laughing as he stumbles over the lyrics.

"You know, you're actually not that bad." she teases as the song reaches its end.

"You're ridiculous." he says between chuckles, handing the paintbrush back.

"And you’re fun sometimes." she replies, beaming up at him.

He gasps playfully. "Excuse you? sometimes?"

When she burst out laughing, Percy smiles at her. He wasn't expecting checking off the first item on the list would be this easy. Or this fun.

2. dances in the rain with me.

The second item comes just as naturally as the first one. Percy doesn’t have to force anything, it just so happens that a few days later, it started raining just when they were walking back from sword training.

Most campers around them take their things and run for cover. Percy's just about to do the same, knowing the rain is probably Zeus' doing and not wanting to be anywhere near it, when his eyes fall on her and stops right on his track.

Far from being agitated by the sudden downpour like everyone else, she tilts her face up, laughing as the rain fall all over her. She looks so carefree, so beautiful, that Percy can hardly be blamed for allowing himself to be pulled into her orbit once again.

Without hesitation, he steps forward, takes her hand, pulls her closer and spins her around. She is confused at first, but then she laughs, her face full of joy.

Percy is not a good dancer in the slightest, but he tries just for her. He lets himself relax under the pouring rain, twirling her again and again, his hands holding her waist as she throws her head back, laughing like its the best thing in the world.

He knows there are people around them, probably watching, but he can’t bring himself to care. Her smile, her laugh, make everything else fade into the background. It's like they are in one of those cheesy romantic movies that she has always seem to enjoy so much.

When the moment slows, Percy reaches out and gently brushes wet strands of hair off her face. She leans into his touch, smiling softly, and for a second, he’s sure his heart skips a beat.

"I didn’t know you were such a good dancer." she comments, her voice filled with amusement as she tries to catch her breath, raindrops running down her cheeks.

I could be anything for you he thinks, but instead, he smiles playfully. "maybe i'm just full of surprises."

3. creates something just for me

bonus: 4. knows my favorite flower

Percy realizes soon enough that not everything on the list is going to be as easy as simply going with the flow. He is good at a lot of things, but crafting isn't one of them, so going through the process of creating something was just- difficult to say the least.

Still, he doesn’t want to half-ass this one, if she wants him to create something for her, then it'll have to be special.

That's where Leo comes in, Percy has to beg the boy for his help. But once he ends up agreeing, it's all set to go.

"metal flowers?" Leo repeats, leaning against the workbench in bunker nine. "Really, dude? you're whipped."

Percy shrugs, trying to act casual. "She really likes flowers. And uh- she loves peonies."

How does Percy knows she loves peonies? even he's surprised, he doesn't remember her telling him. But he simply knows. And he's sure of it, too.

"And couldn't you simply buy her some flowers?" Leo asks, but Percy can already see the gears turning in his head.

"She deserves something unique and special, doesn’t she?" He replies, and that seems to be enough for Leo.

"Alright, let's get to work then."

The two of them spend hours working together. Leo shows Percy how to mold and bend the metal into petal shapes. It's easier said than done, but after a few tries, Percy's able to do it by himself while Leo focuses on welding them together, because he doesn’t trust Percy won't end up burning down the bunker.

When they're finally done, they have a steel peony. It isn't perfect, but Percy's proud of it. It feels special, and he can't wait to give it to her, he barely manages to thank Leo before he's rushing out of the bunker.

He's able to find y/n on the stables, she has her hair in a ponytail, a few strands falling messily over her face. She's focused on grooming a pegasus, so she doesn’t notice Percy until he taps her shoulder.

She's startled at first, but once she sees Percy, she visibly relaxes. "Oh hi Perce, do you need something?"

Percy was excited, but now he's clearly nervous as he stutters through his words. "I- um- I made something for you."

That gets her attention, she looks at him surprised as she sets the comb down. "You got me something? what do you-"

Her words trail off when Percy pulls his creation from behind his back. She seems surprised, looking in between the flower he's holding and his face, as though she can't surely trust her eyes.

"you like peonies, don't you?" he asks hesitantly, even though he had been one hundred percent sure of his choice a few hours ago.

She opens and closes her mouth, words dying before they can escape her lips as she reaches and takes the steel peony from Percy's hand.

It takes her just a moment to realize that Percy is still looking at her with eyes full of doubt, and then her lips finally curl up into a beaming smile. "Like them? Percy i adore peonies." she looks back at the flower in her hand, and she almost feels like crying. "It's so beautiful, how did you make it? how did you know I like peonies?"

"I'm sure you've mentioned it before" he shrugs, trying to hide how nervous he is. "but i'm glad you liked it."

"I love it." she reassures him, her smile wide. "thank you, Perce."

And when she leans and kisses his cheek, he knows the effort was worth it. He would do anything just to make her happy.

5. listens to me

bonus: 6. shares his opinions with me

Some of these were the easiest because, well- Percy already did them. It was the minimum he could do, really. Listening to her came as a second nature.

He could be in a room full of people, all of them talking at once. but the moment y/n's voice filled his ears, he would be the first one listening.

Right now, he's in the middle of a shouting match with Clarisse. Cabin meetings always go just like this, they waste the first hour without accomplishing anything, the other counselors are used to this by now.

"I'm just saying, we shouldn't show any weakness! we should focus on our defense." Clarisse slams her palms against the ping pong table, her voice rising. "we're still vulnerable and we shouldn't rely on a stupid dragon for everything!"

"And i'm just saying." Percy fires back, already losing what little patience he has. "We need to focus on training new campers first, we-"

Clarisse cuts him short, it's not the first time she has done it. "what better training than patrolling the borders?"

"We won't send our new campers to fight monsters without any previous training!" His voice rises, everyone else stares like they're watching a tennis match. "We won't send them to die, have you gone mad?"

Before Clarisse can reply, surely to fire back with some offense on her part, y/n's voice cuts through the noise.

"Okay, let's calm down." Percy's head whips towards her the moment she talks, the heat of the argument forgotten the moment his eyes find hers. "you both have a point."

"but-" Clarisse starts again, but Percy's faster.

"let her talk" he interrupts before they can get into another argument.

y/n falters for a moment. She isn’t even supposed to be at this meeting, she’s only covering for Will, who’s stuck at the infirmary with some campers who got into a fight. She feels out of place and is ready to choke on her words. But when her gaze meets Percy’s, he nods at her and offers a small, reassuring smile. It’s all she needs to find the courage to continue.

She takes a deep breath and then keeps going. "Defense is important, but we do need more trained campers. Maybe we could compromise? Split the efforts? Half the camp focuses on guarding the borders, while the other half works on training?"

There's a murmur of agreement amongst everyone else at the table, even Clarisse seems to deflate as she acknowledges the logic in her suggestion. But her eyes are still focused on Percy, she might not say it out loud but she values his opinion.

"Actually" he says after a beat, his voice softer now. "that’s not a bad idea. If we rotate shifts, we could cover both."

Clarisse rolls her eyes at Percy, but she finally concedes. “Fine. That works.”

y/n allows herself a small, satisfied smile. Percy catches it, and he can’t help the grin that spreads across his own face.

He knows this isn't the first time she was able to calm him down or change his perspective on something, it probably won't be the last either. He'd simply listen to her anytime.

7. Shares his interests with me

It takes Percy a lot of convincing to get her to even step into the water. She’s suspicious of his plan and stalls for ages before finally caving to his begging and jumping in.

It’s worth it, though, because Percy gets to hold her close under the guise of teaching her how to swim.

"Okay don't panic." He says gently as he guides her into the water. "just lay on your back and try floating, i've got you."

She gives him a skeptical look, but he smiles and hesitantly places his hands on her waist, gently guiding her to lie back. His touch is steady, reassuring, and slowly, she begins to relax.

"There you go, see? it wasn't that hard." Percy says softly, not wanting to disrupt the peace of the moment.

"Well, i'm not drowning, so that's a win" she jokes, earning a chuckle from Percy.

As the time goes on, Percy shows her how to kick her legs, how to paddle with her arms, and she was able to float by herself in no time, clumsily treading through water while she laughed.

"You're a natural." he says, though he's already missing holding her close.

She splashes him, when he laughs, she has to ignore the way her heart flutters in her chest. "Maybe I just have a great teacher."

By the time the sun started to set in the sky, they had spent hours swimming around, splashing each other and laughing. Being able to see her smile while she floats close to him, Percy feels his chest tighten, a warm spreading through him.

"I-" love you. Percy is able to catch himself before the words can slip out of his mouth. "thank you for coming with me."

Her eyes sparkle like they're holding a million stars in them. "Thank you for teaching me how to swim."

Percy's in love, and he knows he won't be able to keep it to himself for much longer.

8. stargazes with me

The moon is high in the sky by the time they climb out of the water, the gentle sounds of waves lapping against the shore filling their ears. The air is cooler now, and y/n shivers as droplets of water trickle down her skin.

Percy notices immediately, and he grabs a towel, wrapping it around her shoulders as they sit down on the pier. "Here."

"Thank you." She smiles at him warmly.

For a moment, they sit in silence, their feet dangling over the edge of the pier, toes grazing the water. The sky above them is impossibly clear, stars scattered across the sky. The moonlight casts a soft glow on Percy's face, and she can't help but stare at him just a little longer than she'd like to admit.

She quickly looks away when he turns to glance at her, busying herself with admiring the sky instead. "it's beautiful out here."

"Yeah." he replies, his eyes fixated on her. "it is."

She doesn’t notice at first, too distracted by the way the constellations seem to shine just for them. But when she turns her head to make a comment, she catches him looking at her instead of the sky.

Her heart skips a beat, but she tries to ignore her reaction behind a small laugh. "Do you know the constellations?"

"Not really." he admits, shrugging. "I mean, I know of a few, but I always end up mixing them up."

She smiles softly, pointing at a small cluster of stars. "That one's Orion's belt."

Percy squints at the sky, following her finger. "Oh right, I see it now."

Just like that, they fall into an easy rhythm of pointing out constellations, or at least trying to. When they can’t find one, they make up their own, laughing as they assign ridiculous names to each star.

Eventually, the laughter fades away and they're left with the sound of waves crashing to fill the silence. She hums happily, resting her head on Percy's shoulder.

"Thank you for today." she murmurs softly.

Percy feels a warm on his chest he's become too familiar to. "Anytime."

9. always tells me the truth

it takes a week for y/n to notice the list is missing. And she's immediately panicking. She had written that list as a spur of the moment, something so personal she couldn't even think about sharing it with anyone.

As her siblings leave for breakfast, she stays behind. She has already torn her side of the cabin apart, but there’s no sign of the pink paper she used to write the list.

She's full on freaking out when someone knocks on her door. She's about to tell whoever is at the door to go away, but then she turns around and finds Percy standing by the doorway.

The effect is immediate. Just the sight of him makes her body relax, even if only slightly. Percy has always had that effect on her, it's like the world slows down for a moment, and the chaos in her mind quiets.

"Hey, I wanted to talk to you" he smiles at her, but once he notices her panicked expression, he raises his eyebrows hesitantly. "Are you okay?"

She freezes, unsure whether to lie or spill everything. But as her eyes meet his, she crumbles under his gaze.

"No" she admits quietly. “I lost something really important.”

Percy steps inside, closing the door behind him. “Maybe I can help you find it, what did you-”

He stops himself mid-sentence just as the realization dawns on him. He knows what she lost. He has it on his pocket.

She doesn’t even seem to notice his sudden change of attitude, she's too busy pacing around the room. "It's a piece of paper but it's personal. And very important. I can't lose it Percy."

Percy has to stop her before she keeps talking. "i have it."

She stops on her tracks, looking up at him with wide, worried eyes. "What?"

Percy takes a deep breath, his fingers trembling as he pulls the pink paper from his pocket. It's Slightly crumpled now, but unmistakable. "I have your list."

y/n's white as a ghost as she silently looks at him, so he keeps talking. "I swear I wasn't trying to snoop or anything. It was just there when I came to find the paintbrush you asked for and I-"

"Did you read it?" she asks, her voice barely a shaky whisper.

Percy nods, guilt flashing across his face. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have, but… I've been working through it."

Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Her face flushes with a mix of disappointment and embarrassment, and she snatches the paper from his hand, clutching it tightly.

"Percy you don't understand." she shakes her head, tears gathering on her eyes. "When I wrote this list, I didn’t want anyone to see it, because I didn’t want whoever completed it, did it just because they had to."

He understands where she's coming from, he really does. Which is why he doesn’t panic and simply takes a step towards her, carefully reaching to take her hand. "No you don't understand. y/n, I didn’t do those things because I had to do them, but because I wanted to. Everything on there- it’s stuff I’d already do for you anyway."

Her breath catches in her throat, but she doesn’t take her hand away from him.

"I already love listening to you, and I share my opinions with you because I want you to know the real me. I made that flower because you deserved something special, and I already knew your favorite flowers were peonies. I taught you to swim because I wanted to share that part of my world with you, and every time I spend time with you is because-" he closes his eyes for a moment, he knows he can't keep hiding his feelings." simply because I love you, I love seeing you smile and I love hearing your laugh. So of course, I'd do anything just to spend time around you."

His words take away her breath, but she can only focus on three specific words. "You what?"

"I love you." he replies, no hesitation. "And if this changes anything between us, I’ll understand. But I just can't keep pretending I don't love you."

For a long moment, she stands frozen, clutching the list in her hand. Her heart races wildly, and her hands tremble. But as the truth of his words sinks in, a realization washes over her like a wave.

She thinks back to every moment they’ve shared, how he's always the first person she looks for in a room. She thinks about how she's always looked for his comfort, how he always listened to her and made her feel safe, like she belongs.

She thinks about writing that list. And how it always felt so specific, like no one could surely fulfill it. And it was always because she had one person in mind while writing it. him.

It hits her all at once: she loves him too. She’s been in love with him for longer than she realized.

"Percy" she mumbles, her voice soft and her eyes full with tears. "I love you too."

That's everything he needs to hear. He doesn’t even need to ask for confirmation. He can see it in her eyes. He knows.

Before she adds anything else, Percy leans in, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, tender kiss. It’s everything she imagined and more, and she knows in that moment that every word he said was true.

She loves him. She’s sure of it now, just as sure as she is that he loves her.

When he pulls back, there’s a smile on his face that makes her heart flutter. He reaches up, lightly tapping the paper in her hand, his voice warm and teasing. "Looks like you can cross the last item off your list."

10. Kisses me

#fluff #percy jackson fluff #i love them #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson oneshot #one shot #imagine #pjo series #𐙚 mari's fics

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seresinhangmanjake · 6 months ago

Note

Fluff for Feyd, reader tells him that she’s proud of him and it’s the first time someone’s said that to him genuinely 🩵

Feyd-Rautha x reader

All He Knew

Summary: Feyd deals with the emotional aftermath of protecting you from his uncle.

Notes/Warnings: mention of past abuse, mention of death, and vulnerability. It's fluffy-ish and angsty-ish, and slightly different, but I still kept in the main idea. Hopefully you still like it :)

Words: 1150

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

You knew the second your husband’s blade went through the Baron’s neck that his whole world would change. Everything inside of him would disconnect. The pieces of his inner self would scatter chaotically, and he would no longer know who to be. You knew because of the power his uncle held over him for the majority of his life.

After Feyd killed his mother, the Baron was all he had. And how do you go from having the fullness of an overbearing presence on your shoulders—miserable as it was—to nothing? By killing the Baron, Feyd excised a part of himself, as if some creature had sauntered up to his side and taken a big bite out of his body. And now there’s a chunk missing that you fear cannot be filled, even by you.

He cries when he thinks you’re asleep. And though you continue to feign unconsciousness as you roll over and drape your arm over his waist, it’s not always enough to stop the tears. Part of you knew it wouldn’t be, but you still hoped. You hoped that having you beside him would remind him why he did what he did.

The Baron had ordered your execution because you were taking too long to provide an heir, and as you were dragged in front of the old man to answer for your ‘crime’, Feyd was nowhere near to protect you. The Baron was smart—he took you from the comfort of your bed in the early morning as your husband was training for another fight in the arena. The plan was simple, and Feyd wouldn’t know about your fate until it was too late. He wouldn’t be able to save you.

But he did, somehow. Your best guess is that Feyd has a mole, or many, throughout the Harkonnen fortress to relay everyone’s movements, because Feyd was rushing into the room and thrusting his blade into squishy flesh just as the order to end your life was leaving the Baron’s lips. And in those quick seconds, your husband was changed.

You don’t know how to bring him back to you. At least, you didn’t. You wrestled with it for days until it dawned on you that what he might need is not necessarily your touch or the reminder that he still has a wife, but instead, the words he deserves to hear.

—

“Feyd, I’m proud of you.”

You’ve been watching him all morning, standing aside, not wanting to interrupt his process of slowly nipping away at a training dummy with his knife. There are holes of all sorts in the torso, both deep and shallow, and slashes across the inanimate face. It has lost both its legs. One arm hangs on by what would be a thin cord of skin were it human. When your words reach him from the other side of the room, he pauses mid-swing.

“You did a hard thing,” you continue as his arm drops to his side and he straightens his stance from a fighters position. “You did a painful thing.”

His adam’s apple bobs. He sighs and stares down at the blade, the sharp point digging into his index finger as he twirls it. He has yet to look at you in the hour you’ve been here, and with the unpredictability of your husband, you don’t know what he’s going to do next. But you wait, patiently, because that is what you can do for him.

“I wouldn’t let him take you from me,” he finally says. The blade stabs into the gut of the dummy. “He’s damaged me enough.”

That’s all he gives you. Your heart shatters for him and for the walls he’s been building between you since he killed his uncle; walls that took you ages to tear down after you married him. You’d done so well at getting him to trust and love you, and you hate to watch the bricks stacking as the minutes pass.

“Since when are you proud when I kill?” he asks.

And it’s a fair question. You’ve never been a fan of the death that wreaks through the halls of the Harkonnen fortress. You’ve never enjoyed his triumphs in the arena. But this is different, and so you must handle it differently, with a gentle hand and well-chosen words, despite what those words may bring.

He hasn’t often handled well certain topics that you’ve tried to bring up in the past. Risky topics, you learned. Topics that have usually left him drawing away from you until the next morning comes and he can pretend as if you never brought them up.

When you’ve asked about his parents, he gets fidgety; can’t stand still, can’t stop messing with his hands, can’t look you in the eye for more than a quarter of a second. He’s unlike the husband you know. When you’ve asked about his uncle, he’s worse. He’s more than just unlike your husband, he detaches himself from the moment completely. He becomes stiff as a board; a statue with a faraway gaze in his eyes. He offers few words. But those reactions are enough for you to assume the truth of his past without him giving you more than the little he has.

“Feyd, he was abusive,” you say, closing the distance between you. “You ended someone who had power over you for years. Of course I’m proud of you.”

“It’s not as if I did it for me; I did it to save you.”

“You did it,” you tell him. “You did it when you needed to protect us most. You didn’t let him hurt me and force you to accept his justifications for doing so. That's what matters.”

Long beats pass that grow longer with each one. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears so violently that they feel stuffed with cotton. You fear his reaction; a further pulling away from you—something you’re not sure you’ll be able to take. But then he drops the knife to the floor, turns to you, and tucks his head into the space where your neck meets your shoulder.

His arms slowly snake around your waist and squeeze you tight, and you’re struggling to breathe properly, but you don’t care because the half-built brick wall just tumbled down. He needs you.

His exhales shakily graze over your collarbone. A droplet forges a path down your chest, disappearing into your cleavage and leaving a chilled trail in its wake. You raise your hand to the back of his head and hold him against you, letting more droplets trickle down your body, letting your skin muffle sobs.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this,” you whisper.

He inhales, breathing you in, and then says, “There’s not a life where I wouldn’t have done it for you.”

“I know,” you tell him.

“It shouldn’t hurt.”

“It’s allowed to hurt,” you say. “He’s all you knew.”

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha fic #austin butler #dune 2

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heechwe · 4 months ago

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BEAM ME UP | 최수빈

⟢ PAIRING: choi soobin x fem!reader ⟢ WORD COUNT: 3.5K ⟢ GENRE: lots of fluff, smidges of comedy, smut ⟢ TAGS: parents!au, married!au, established relationship!au, body (mostly chest) worship, pet names (love, bunny, baby, etc), oral (f receiving), fingering, breeding kink, lactation kink, unprotected sex, down bad soobin essentially ⟢ SYNOPSIS: Going out after having a baby should be a breeze. So what if you don't feel incredibly confident? So what if you both act like awkward teenagers on your first date? It's you and Soobin, and that's all that matters. ➸ bless my pals @lovetaroandtaemin, @xomakara, and @heesuncore for reading this behemoth ilysm

Why am I so nervous? You think to yourself as you swipe the mauve shade in your hand across your bottom lip. Its light pigment prevents staining, yet provides noticeable definition, just enough to stand out. Your hair is in a low bun, two stray bangs falling over your cheeks. With your makeup and floral midi dress, you feel confident enough to step out and leave the house without becoming riddled with anxious thoughts.

The demands of motherhood have been hefty, but you clean up well. And despite all the dirty diapers and staying awake pumping, you’re ready to spend one night simply as Soobin’s wife. Perhaps a night out in town with your husband is exactly what you both need after three months of being parents.

It’s been picture perfect, without question. Minyoung has her father‘s pout when she sleeps, your long eyelashes, and the softness of a human being well beyond her years. But, you can’t deny that you miss the days where it was just you and Soobin in your own bubble.

Perhaps tonight, you can discover a balance where your old and new life blend harmoniously.

You step out into the living room to see Soobin with his mother, your daughter asleep in her grandmother’s arms. Soobin holds a laundry list of instructions in one hand and her car-seat in the other, waving his hands in frantic motions. “She usually naps like this for about two hours, but if she sleeps more, that’s even better. And then—“

Soobin stops short and looks back at you when he senses your presence. Your in-law and husband stare at you in disbelief. The frayed edges of your appearance from a few hours ago are nowhere to be seen.

Soobin looks at you like you hang the moon. His smile is small in the presence of his mother, him trying to maintain some semblance of modesty, but it’s ‌electric. “You look beautiful.” He sets the car-seat down on the floor to free his hand, reaching it out for you to take.

You do it gladly, smiling from ear to ear. Soobin also cleans up well, his button up tucked in his cargo pants. He’s always dressed a bit like a dad in training, and now he fits the bill‌. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Binnie.”

His face turns a shade of pink at the nickname, unable to hide your effect on him. He turns back to his mother and refers to the paper in his hand. “If you need something that isn’t in her diaper bag, please‌—“

“Soobin, I can handle it. Just spend the night with your lovely wife.” His mother winks at you and takes the car seat from him. “I promise to bring her back in the morning in one piece.”

You and Soobin kiss the top of Minyoung’s soft head and say your goodbyes, both of your hearts clenching. It’s the first time you’ve been apart from her for more than an hour or two, so the prospect is daunting, at the very least. “Be good for grandma, lil’ bun,” Soobin whispers to her sleeping figure.

When your mother-in-law leaves, Soobin looks back at you with a mixture of excitement, anxiety, and desire. “Ready to go?”

You nod, sharing the same concoction of emotions. Most importantly, though, you’re relieved to finally have some alone time together. Wherever the night takes you is anyone’s guess. “Definitely.”

You both sit at the table in the restaurant like it’s your first date. Uncertain about what to expect once the meal ends, full of nerves and anticipation.

Soobin finds it hard to make eye contact with you, his eyes moving across the entire room. He can’t help it when you look so beautiful. You always do, but tonight is different. He’s been so stuck in the haze of being a new dad, it’s like he’s seeing you clearly again. Now, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

You’ve been married for half a decade, ‌yet every time he sees you, he falls deeper. It’s the first time for him every second he gets to touch you, kiss you, tell you how much you matter to him.

With a child, his feelings have only amplified. He looks at Minyoung some mornings and sees all the features he loves about you and vice versa in one human, his pride as great as his love.

But, instead of revealing he’s in the throes of intense admiration for you in the small Italian restaurant, he turns his focus back to the menu in his hands and looks over the wine list.

The appetizer you shared a few minutes ago has made him thirsty for some alcohol, it seems. “I know you have water, but do you want some Pinot, too? Oh! They have Moscato! I know that’s your favorite.”

It’s the way his eyes light up and his mouth curves into that signature O that makes you giggle‌, unable to contain it.

“What’s so funny?” Soobin looks up from his menu with mirth.

“Nothing at all, Binnie. I’m just happy.”

Your chest pinches at his soft reaction to your words, him looking over his menu at you with bright eyes.

Soobin has always been a goofball, intentionally or not, but it’s what makes him the best partner, among his many qualities. He knows when to be serious, taking the reins when necessary, but he’s well-versed in lightening the mood when you need it.

It’s surreal sometimes thinking about how you lucked out.

Suddenly, your thoughts cease thanks to the rising discomfort from your breasts. It started as an unnoticeable pinch when you gave your drink and light food order, but now it’s full-on pain erupting in your chest.

Why is it so uncomfortable?

You feel the droplets of milk settling into the fabric of your dress, your question answered in a flash.

The impending concern rises on Soobin’s face when he notices your scrunched-up brows and mouth. Then, he sees the two small wet patches forming on your chest. Immediately, he shucks off his jean jacket to give you. “Here baby, take this.”

A deep blush forms on your cheeks when you cover up with his garment. You’re unsure how to broach the subject or the rest of dinner in this state, immediately self-conscious. “I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing, I—”

“Baby, no. Don’t be sorry, it’s normal.” Soobin says the words with so much empathy, you could cry from that alone. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and clean yourself up, not listening to the words that leave his lips in rapid succession. You’re a mom. It happens to every mom at some point! I love you!

Soobin feels useless, knowing no words he says will assuage your shame. He decides now is as good of a time as any to check up on Minyoung. It’s been almost three hours since he’s talked to his mother.

When the line rings, Soobin doesn’t let it bother him. Minyoung probably needed a burping or night-time bath. No big deal.

By the second unsuccessful attempt at contact, his heart drops into his stomach. What if something’s wrong? As he tries to call for the third and fourth time, his thoughts spiral further.

What if his mother rushed out with Minyoung and she forgot to bring her cell because it was so serious? He knows babies usually are out of the woods for colic by the third or fourth month, but anything’s possible, right?

Parental anxiety is one thing, a feeling Soobin knows well by now, but his instincts are usually spot-on. And something has to be going on if his mother isn’t getting back to him.

You trot over to the table, tucking Soobin’s jacket tighter around your chest so it doesn’t flap open. The event may have been embarrassing at the moment, but you’re ready to get the night back on track and focus on your husband.

You smile eagerly, not noticing the way Soobin’s face has gone stark white. “I think I got most of it, but—“

“We have to go. Something’s wrong.”

You don’t think twice, practically stealing Soobin’s keys from his pocket when he stands up. The two of you race out of the restaurant and to your little girl, your thoughts newly scrambled in the worst ways.

Soobin tries to knock on his parents’ door without slamming his fist against the wood, but he can’t help it. So many scenarios have built up in his head since his intuition kicked in. He could barely say one word on the drive to his mother’s. The silence was palpable in the air, both of your bodies filled to the brim with fear and regret for leaving her for one second.

Soobin’s mother answers the door with a shocked expression. “Honey, what are you two—“

Soobin barrels past her and into the house. You follow hot on his heels. His pace is quick, his voice loud as he calls out Minyoung’s name like she’s able to answer him back.

Then, you find Minyoung perfectly content. Soobin’s dad has her in his arms at the dinner table, feeding her a bottle of milk. “Hey, kids. Why are you here?”

Soobin stutters when he responds. “M-Mom wasn’t answering and we—“

“Oh, lord.” You hear her deep groan pervade the small kitchen. “You left the restaurant for that?”

“What were we supposed to think?” Your words are full of defense, lighthearted now that you’re not in panic mode. Were your worst thoughts so unexpected? You felt bad enough leaving your daughter alone with people you trusted just for a night of solitude. If something worse had happened, the guilt would’ve been too much to bear.

Soobin rushes over to Minyoung and takes her from his father’s arms. Droplets of milk spill from her lips, but she doesn’t care. She reaches up to touch Soobin, her little nails gliding across his face. “Daddy’s here, Minnie.” He presses his forehead to hers, smiling proudly. “I’m right here.”

You tear up at the image in front of you, relieved to see your baby girl out of harm’s way. Even if the harm was entirely imaginary, you’re calmer nonetheless.

Soobin walks towards you and kisses the crown of your head. “Sorry I pulled a false alarm, baby.”

Although you’ll never tell him, you don’t mind that he did so. He’s an incredible husband and father, always on alert for the two of you and putting his needs to the wayside. You have to remind him every day to also think of himself, and he appreciates you looking out for him in the same fashion.

You shake your head and move Minyoung from Soobin’s arms to yours. You kiss her chubby cheeks and she coos at the attention, the spitting image of her father. “Daddy is gonna be the death of me, isn’t he, baby girl?”

Soobin chuckles into your hair and holds onto one of Minyoung’s fists with his palm. “Not if I can help it.”

“Now that you both have made sure she’s okay, go back to your date night!” Your mother-in-law strides into the dining room to pluck Minyoung from your grip. Minyoung is more than comfortable with it, smiling widely into her grandmother’s neck. “It’s rude enough that you both interrupted your dinner time and ours.” She turns to speak directly to Minyoung. “Right, sweetie? How dare they!”

“It’s officially off, I promise.” Soobin puts his phone in the glove-box once he parks the car in the downtown parking garage, determined to make the rest of the date night go off without a hitch.

You laugh and take his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers. “So much for low-key and relaxing, right?”

“Hey!” He points at you with his other hand. “It’s only 8 PM. The night’s still young.”

“Well, we’re not gonna be able to go back to the restaurant now. Not after I practically gave out my milk for free.” You cover your face with the palm not wrapped in your husband’s, but he takes that one too.

“Stop it,” he chides with a stern pout. “Even if you leaked through your shirt every time we went out, you’d still be more beautiful than every other person on the planet.”

You tease, "You're just saying that."

“I mean it! Do you see how gorgeous and incredible Minyoung is? That’s half your handiwork.”

You roll your eyes, but your body lights from within at his words. “She’s half yours too. You probably didn’t notice, but every waitress was checking you out.”

Soobin blushes hard, suddenly shy. “They were not.”

“Yes, they were. I can’t blame them, though. Parenthood has made you ten times sexier.”

Soobin quirks an eyebrow, the undercurrent of passion in your words unmistakable. He gets closer to you until your faces are barely an inch apart. His lips ghost over yours. “I could say the same about you. I’ve only had eyes for you, but even more so now that you’ve had my baby.”

You gulp, noticing how hard your thighs are clenching in your seat. Soobin notices too, holding one of your knees in his hand with a smirk. “Binnie, I’m not hungry for food anymore.”

He presses his lips to yours slowly. You moan into his mouth from such exquisite pleasure that’s been long overdue. He glides his tongue in between your lips as he palms one of your breasts over his jacket. When he takes his mouth from yours, he’s breathing heavily. “I was gonna say the same thing.”

It’s a clash of teeth and tongue when you make it inside the house. Hands run over curves and skin to take off the restricting clothing, appearances be damned.

You discard Soobin’s button-up somewhere in the hallway as he pulls your hair loose from your bun, clutching the strands at your nape to expose more of your neck. He riddles your skin with love bites before you even make it to the bedroom, but you both love it. How feral and frantic you are for one another, no children or external restrictions holding you back.

By the time your body hits the king-sized bed, all that’s left on you, garments-wise, is your thin bralette and mismatched underwear. Soobin looks over your body with a hunger that’s unshakeable. The poor man’s probably salivating at the mouth by now, just like you.

Ever since the doctor’s six-week ban on any physically strenuous activity, he couldn’t imagine dry-humping without fear of hurting you. That timeline came and went in a flash, but with the fatigue of daily life, it seemed impossible to find time to be intimate.

Until now, that is.

“How did I get so lucky? You’re angelic.” Soobin spreads his palms out over your chest. His long fingers squeeze your breasts over the confines of your lingerie, making you moan. “I have to take this off, bunny. I need to see you.”

You feel heat pooling at your center from his gaze, his words, his touches on your skin. You unclasp the clips holding your bra together and flick it away, not breaking eye contact the entire time.

He used to be so shy during sex, and now he wastes no time unzipping his pants to touch himself. “Fucking perfect,” he grunts, staring at the pebbling of your nipples and the volume of your tits from lactation. He spreads the pooling pre-cum in his hand to rub his cock earnestly.

You whimper and clench around nothing, the center of your underwear incredibly damp. Why did he get to have all the fun and leave you frustrated? “Binnie, please touch me.”

“Gladly.” He uses the hand not holding his dick to yank your underwear off and throw them in a corner of your room. Once the fabric is gone, he dives in between your legs. His licks start small, kitten-like in their touch, but soon he grows hungrier, more dominant. Eating you out has always been one of his favorite things during sex, like it's the only thing he needs to do to sustain himself.

“You taste amazing. You always do.” He stops jerking himself off to press two fingers inside of you without warning, mixing his essence with yours on his way to your warm and wet walls. His lips and tongue remain attached to your clit as he prods you soft and slow.

“God, it feels so good.” You raise your hips to match the rhythm of his hand inside of you. Despite being eager to keep his mouth between your legs, you reach down for him, wanting to feel his lips on yours again. “I want you up here with me.”

Soobin smiles gently before crawling up the expanse of your body. He looks down at you, unable to hide how strong his desire runs in his veins. But instead of his declarations of love that he’s said a million times before, he greets you with a deep kiss to your lips and pushes his fingers back into your cunt.

You moan into his mouth. “Jesus fuck, babe.” You whimper as he leans his head down to latch his mouth to one of your nipples, still ramming his hand deeper into you. Some milk sinks onto his tongue and dribbles past his chin, but he doesn’t care. If anything, it turns him on more. His cock produces more pre-cum and spreads onto your bedsheets.

“I want you inside of me, Soobin.” You spread your legs wider for him to settle into, and he does.

He rubs the head of his cock across your slit before nestling inside fully, his mouth opening in a large gasp as he fills you. “It always feels like the first time, bunny. Always so tight for me, fuck.”

His pace is reverent, driven by his lust, his love for you, and his desire to make this experience as incredible as it already is for him. He rubs your clit between his fingers, and your face contorts into absolute pleasure after a few minutes like that, privy to every feeling. When you fall apart, your body clenching around him in ecstasy, the moment is too beautiful for Soobin to handle. It’s a picture he wants to tattoo on his heart forever.

You could have done anything in this life, and by his luck and the universe’s grace, you were led straight to him and have given him some of the greatest gifts he could ever ask for. Your love, your hand in marriage, your children.

He would follow you anywhere without question. And he may not always believe it, but he also holds all the same powers over you. Without him, the world would be a lot duller, no color to define the edges and details of the life that you’ve built together. He makes it all worth it.

So when his next words leave his mouth, you can’t help but agree with them, the thought too beautiful in the throes of your desire to say no to. “I want to fill you up, bunny. Have another baby with you, as many as you want. So beautiful like this, but you’re even more beautiful heavy and pregnant, shit,” he moans, eyes screwed shut as he chases his own orgasm.

“Yes, Binnie, fill me up. Come inside of me, give me another. Pretty please?”

Those two words are his undoing, the blade that severs the cord that’s been slowly tightening in his stomach since he saw you in your dress five hours ago. He spills inside of you, your insides hot with his release. He doesn’t let any part of it go to waste, fucking it into you until his hips can’t go for much longer.

He lies beside you, both of your chests heaving. And while the moment was an amalgamation of intense passion, you both look at each other and laugh like teenagers. It takes you back to that first night, the first “I love you,” all the first you’ve shared and the ones that are yet to come.

“You’re my best friend, you know that, right?” He rubs your bare arm as he stares deeply into your eyes, more in love than he was a second ago. “I could not have found anyone better to be my wife and my children’s mother than you.” He kisses you on the forehead, his lips featherlight. “I love you.”

You may be incredibly hormonal, any words that make your heart seize up more than likely to cause a well of tears in your eyes. But these don’t. They make your heart lighter, shoot all your fears down, and quell any insecurities that have sprung to the surface since the two of you have become parents.

“I love you, Binnie. In this lifetime and all the other ones,” you respond. You snuggle into his chest, feeling the tempo of his heartbeat against your ear.

Everyone told you both how hard having kids would be. You know you’re not in the home stretch, not in the slightest, but with Soobin, no mountain you’ll come across is insurmountable.

All because he’s yours and you’re his.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy @hursheys

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @moadiarynet @lapydiaries @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

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boop-le-snoot · 7 months ago

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kinktober #4

Light My Fire

kinktober day four | temperature play & monsterfucking (?) | cw: 18+, self-explanatory. Good!Loki is a Jötun and Avenger!You have fire powers. Rather fluffy, just two dorks in love goofin' | word count 2k | click here for full list of planned fics | author's note under the cut |

“Darling, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“You are occasionally a little over 8 feet tall and very cold and blue. I am average tall but set myself on fire regularly without repercussions. I think we passed these sorts of questions a good while ago.” You pointedly bit into your toast, watching Loki watching you over the rim of his teacup.

Why did he insist on having tea from one specific antique tea set - and having to refill the cup at least five times in the process - instead of getting a mug like a normal person, you did not know.

Slumped over your breakfast in your Garfield pajamas, you eyed your boyfriend pat the corner of his mouth with his monogrammed kerchief before he vanished it away and stood up. His green button-up clung to his chest deliciously.

“Such a way with words.” Loki chuckled and patted over to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “But I see your point. We could either seriously harm each other or end up having a wonderful, one-of-a-kind experience.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You nodded. He stole a piece of toast and pointed it at your nose, tapping the appendage gently with the hard crust. “And Tony would never forgive us if we at least did not try.”

“Since when do you care about what Tony thinks?”

Loki gave you an impish look. “He's not all terrible. Remember the time he 3-D printed an exact replica of Mjolnir and I haunted Thor the entire day with it?”

“Thor had a mental breakdown.” You replied dryly even as your mouth involuntarily curled into a smirk.

Loki, however, gave a wide smile. “Uh-uh. Tony filmed the entire thing start to finish.”

A chuckle broke out of you before you could stop it. You liked Thor, you ready did, but that had been just a single instance of mischief in the multiple-century long prank war between the brothers. The blonde had gotten you several times in the process of getting back at Loki and you would be lying if you didn't feel vindicated for all those times you had found glitter in odd places and worse...

Not that you yourself lacked your fair share of questionable life decisions. Having fiery super-powers, being an Avenger, being Loki's girlfriend, challenging Natasha to a knife throwing competition... The list goes on. So what if you wanted your icy boyfriend to be icy in bed? So what if he wanted your fiery self be fiery in bed? They do say opposites attract and yada-yada-yada...

“Makes me wonder what the fire giants look like,” you said absent-mindedly later that night while the two of you lounged in your oversized tub. You rolled a small fireball in your palm as Loki sipped his wine.

“Like demons,” he snorted. “Nothing attractive about them.”

“Some would say demons are attractive,” you shrugged. “I think Jötuns are attractive.” Using your free hand, you squeezed a slender, muscular thigh. Loki flexed it and you ran your knuckles over the hard muscle. “Although you're the only one I've seen. Might have to tell Tony to ban any more from Earth least they come to steal all the women away, being this handsome.”

Loki's cool hand reached up over your stomach to idly toy with your breast. “Is that so? Is my Asgardian form not as stimulating?” He mused.

You pushed into the touch, purring. “There's just more of you to love, babe.”

His unmistakable laugh filled up the bathroom, genuine amusement as he flicked at your nipple and leaned down to kiss your neck. “I do not think that is anatomically possible.”

“Pfft,” you scoffed. “Ye of little faith! Have you been on the internet? Anything is possible, provided there is an adequate amount of lube and some leverage.”

The internet - surprise, surprise - was wrong. Loki expressed an unfair amount of amusement at this, and you daredsay, even gloated a little bit. Shutting him up in this form was harder than when he was regular Loki, but not doable. It was, as you both had agreed, a learning curve.

He was cold to touch. Not as a metal pole at a ski resort as you had previously thought, but enough to cause a pleasant, clean chill to settle in the back of your skull as you took the tip of his hard, blue cock intro your mouth. That was about as much as you could fit without going full Chelsea Smile around it. Your hands, kept warm by your powers, slid down his shaft, tender fingertips tracing the textured ridges covering every inch of his skin.

They were truly everywhere, and they were sensitive. Splayed on the various animal skins in front of the fireplace, Loki was a sight to behold: all cerulean blue and raven-haired, red eyes lidded with desire as they observed your exploration with mirrored curiosity. As you warm hands curled around him, a low hiss left his lips.

Attempting to say, “did that hurt?” with your mouth so full was a disaster. Loki chuckled anyway, and brought a large, cool palm to rest atop your head.

“No, darling,” his voice, in this form little more than a low growl, did something indecent to your insides. “Feels incredible.” A sigh as you swirled your tongue around the sensitive head. “I surely wish you'd let me at least keep my Asgardian measurements...”

Yes, but no. It would have been more practical, sure, but it wasn't the full Jötun experience you were seeking. With a wet pop, you dislodged your mouth from his cock to delight in his full-body shiver. To remedy the lack of your mouth, heat began to radiate from your palms; roughly the same temperature as the inside of your mouth.

“Not unless you are on board with me keeping the fire lukewarm,” you teased gently, watching his red eyes darken to a lovely burgundy. Slowly, you slid your hands over his lubricated flesh.

Loki was generous with his microexpressions in this form, with him being larger allowing for easier observation. Lust, love, yearning, a dash of insecurity and concern. He was your Loki through and through, simply blue.

“I fear I may have less allocated space for patience in this form,” he mused.

Captivating. His reclined position and the fire dancing over his skin, the horns growing tall and strong above his forehead - the helmet imitation did them no justice - Loki was a vision to behold. You wanted to eat him like the world's most exotic ice lolly and ride that fanged mouth until you forgot your own name and knew only his.

“Fuck,” you eloquently summarised your train of thought just as your hands stroked him to full mast. Loki merely tilted his head. Knowing that look well, you batted your eyelashes and gave him the final stroke before shamelessly climbing up onto his lap.

You wore nothing but a thigh-length slip of fine Asgardian silk, just like you knew he liked. Your hot, glistening cunt connected with the shaft of his cock as you settled above it, eliciting a sigh of wanton relief. Loki felt like a bag of frozen goods. You wanted to press him against everything sore.

His large, cold palm stroked the side of your face.

“Mmm,” you leaned into it, unconsciously shifting your hips to press closer to the textured hardness of his cock. It twitched as your wetness joined the spit you'd previously covered it in. Some adjusting was to be had - Loki waited patiently as you found your spot, and used his other hand to make you sit down just right. With that first, slow, slick grind, both of you were gone.

It came naturally. Loki's hands on your hips, on your face, sliding your slick cunt over the tip of his own leaking cock. His abs flexed with each measured movement; you kept your palms in closed fists, knowing better than to open them when you were this riled up.

Hurting each other was both of yours' biggest fears and it showed in the way you'd swallowed some of your moans upon feeling the beginnings of a spark crackle on your tongue. Loki refused to take his darkening eyes off your face for he would definitely lose himself in the moment and do... Something.

The intensity of your coupling grew. Your cunt provided ample lubrication on the account of your clitoris receiving all that extra stimulation from the ridges and valleys covering his cock. On harder thrusts, the very tip of his cock snagged the edge of your entrance, causing him to growl and you to whine when your hungry hole was forced to relent and clench around nothing.

It was exhilarating torture. Your cries of pleasure, as usual, only spurred the Jötun prince on.

As you arched your back and moaned loudly and brokenly up to the ceiling at a particularly hard thrust, Loki's deep growling added to the delightful cacophony of sex. He firmly held your hips, sharp nails digging into the meat of your ass, and pushed you down on his cock, missing your hole by sheer luck.

“Come for me, darling,” he rasped in that icy-sharp, husky voice. “I can feel your little quim begging for me. I may not be able to resist fucking you if you cry for me so sweetly.”

Never being the one to disobey reasonable orders, you and your abused pussy gushed your agreements as heat burst from your lower stomach and spread into your body and limbs. Loki's drawn-out hiss had you weakly trying to scramble, to get away from him least your elevated temperature burn the Jötun, but he held steadfast.

Eyes so deeply red they were almost black, Loki looked you directly in the face before his cock twitched for the last time.amd coated his chest and your front with an abundance of silver seed. His body shook with restraint even when his mouth had fallen lax and eyes lidded low; he let you rock forward to rest a hand on his hard chest as both of you caught your breath.

Giving into your body's demands, you fell ahead, uncaring of the mess. Immediately, a cold arm draped itself over you. A moment of silence was had. You licked your dry lips, sputtering somewhat as sticky - but not unpleasant - seed made way into your mouth.

“Are you alright?” Loki drawled, still breathless.

You briefly contemplated the phrasing of what you were about to say, but in the end decided to be completely honest as you two had sworn to be to each other.

“Your come tastes like snow. Literal snow.”

You heard Loki's heart skip a beat and then his chest shook, the chuckle as incredulous as your discovery.

“Noted.” Pause. “Yours feels like lava.”

Despite everything, you simply shook your head and laughed. “That's what were writing down in our science report for Tony?”

“Yes.” Loki nodded seriously. With a careless swipe of his hand, the mess disappeared, and you promptly found yourself staring at the ceiling. “Experiment number two. I am going to find out whether it also tastes like lava,” he said impishly.

Your tummy clenched in anticipation, but then you heard the proverbial sound of brakes skidding in your head. “Wait. How do you know what lava tastes like?”

“I be in situations,” ever the dutiful boyfriend, Loki mumbled his reply into the fat above your cunt on his way down to make you see stars once again. You were not complaining at all.

a/n: I'm personally very impartial to Loki being a little over 8 feet tall in his Jötun form. For, you know, reasons. My nature's pocket can fit a lot of fun things in it, but I don't know about yours so... I left the fine details to your imagination. See how I don't describe the size of his appendage? Very demure, very mindful. ✨

Additionally, I don't think Asgard has a book on erogenous zones of peoples they conquered and genocided. I'd like to think that they're both clueless here and Loki is getting to know his Jötun body in a sexual setting. But that's just me.

#loki x reader #jotun loki x reader #loki x you #jotun loki x you #female reader #jotun loki smut #loki smut #they goooooofinn'

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beholdthebangs · 3 months ago

Text

Movie Night

Sam x F!Reader

~ 18+ ~

Synopsis: Smut - Best friend Sam is at your place for your weekly movie night turned sleepover. After years of being just friends, he finally gets bold and pushes your relationship to another level.

Warnings: Oral (F on M & M on F), throat fucking, fingering, penetration (M on F), teasing, praise, swallowing, dirty talk, piercings

Word count: 4.0k

A/N: Sam going longer than a few months without trying to fuck his best friend is unrealistic but let’s just play pretend ^_-

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“What’s next on the list?” Sam scrolls absentmindedly through a page of recommended movies as the credits roll on the comedy that just finished playing on your TV.

You shrug. “What genre are you feeling?”

He slumps down on the couch next to you, arms dropping limply to his sides. “Something I can fall asleep to.”

You lean over his body to snatch the remote from his outstretched hand. “Horror, got it.”

“Nooo!” he whines dramatically, lazily grasping at the remote. You easily hold it over your head and out of his reach, searching for a paranormal movie. One time you’d put on The Exorcist and he spent the entire night demanding you lay back to back to “make sure no demons come in.” When asked what you two would do if it were to happen, he couldn’t provide any answers. Lucky for you, he gave it up at 4 that morning because apparently ghosts don’t stay up that late. At least you got a solid two hours of sleep that night. “Let’s compromise,” Sam pleads. “Instead of terrorizing me, let’s watch a rom-com. Some cheesy shit.”

“Not all rom-coms are cheesy, Samson.”

“You keep saying that, and we keep watching them, and each one is always worse than the last.” You nudge his thigh with your knee, rolling your eyes at his complaints as if he hadn’t gotten invested in all of them. You’d noticed the small gasps and intent gazes at the plot twists. The facade he wanted to put up was see-through. “Whatever you put on, can we please go watch it in bed?”

“You know the rules. Finish your popcorn first. I don’t want pieces of it in my sheets.”

Sam groans, grabbing the plastic bucket from the coffee table in front of him. He dips his hand to the bottom, pulling a claw of white popcorn out and shoving it in his mouth. You stare with amazement, mixed with concern that he’s about to choke on a kernel. The second he finishes chewing, he tosses you the nearly empty bowl and jumps off the couch, heading into your bedroom. You begin cleaning up the mess left in his wake.

While Sam’s immaturity requires a specific skill set to tolerate, you’re pretty experienced. You’ve been friends for years and have considered him your best friend for much of that time. Picking up his messes is a side effect of all the entertainment and comfort he’s provided you and it’s a sacrifice you’d make any day. And sure, it would be nice if he didn’t somehow leave behind popcorn on every surface in your living room on movie nights or rip the sheets off your bed in his sleep every time he stayed over, but that’s not Sam.

You join him in your room a few minutes later, flipping on the first rom-com that crosses the screen. Sam is already half-asleep. As you settle in next to him, he grabs at your arm and pulls you in, nestling his head on top of your shoulder while his knee presses to the side of your leg. His hot breath blows on the neckline of your tank top as you rub his back absentmindedly.

To no one’s surprise, Sam is awake by the middle of the movie and invested in the sexual tension building between the main characters. You’ve moved to sit with your back propped up by your pillows, knees pulled to your chest. Sam eventually slides down the bed and pulls one leg closer to him, spreading them just enough to settle himself between your thighs to use your stomach as a pillow. His fingers rake up and down your bare calves as he makes comments about the, yes, cheesy dialogue. Regardless, he’s enjoying himself like you knew he would.

Around 1 am, the characters break up over an easily avoidable misunderstanding and you feel fatigue crawling over you. You stretch your legs out, nowhere to rest them but over Sam’s shoulders and down his torso. His cheek rests against your thigh as the movie lulls with an abundance of exposition. His fingertips begin drawing random lines along your outer thighs, hiking further up your legs to snag along the hem of your pajama shorts. Sam slowly turns his head to the right, his soft lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

To say that nothing romantic had ever happened between you two would be a lie. Sam is a hot skater boy with blond hair, blue eyes, and a sense of humor. He’s pretty universally attractive, and you’re not blind to that. Early into your friendship, there was certainly a question of if you’d grow into something more, but the timing had never felt right. Drunken kisses had been shared, cuddling was a normal occurrence (one where you always chose to ignore the boner pressing into you), and you frequently saw one another in minimal clothing. Still, none of that had ever felt like this.

Sam presses a kiss to your thigh. He waits a moment as if to give you the opportunity to stop him. You don’t yet, frozen with anxiety or maybe just anxious to see what else he does. Without any movement, he places another slow kiss, and another. You let him do as he pleases, lips wandering up your leg to where the hem of your shorts had once rested, his hands having pushed it up enough to gain access. His kisses turn sloppier, the tip of his tongue dragging on your thigh before his lips close against you.

“Nothing to say?” he mumbles between pecks.

“Nothing.” Your voice is hoarse, coming out as a whisper.

“Good.” You can feel Sam smirk before attaching his lips to your thigh, sucking into the delicate skin until it hurts. You writhe against him, his hand shooting up to grip your leg and hold it still. He pauses his assault on your thigh to lick over the fresh bruise before moving up an inch and repeating the process. His attacks grow shorter as he works his way up to the crease between your leg and your pelvis. His thumb pulls your shorts up to the edge of your pelvis and he chuckles. “No underwear, Y/n?”

“I never wear underwear to bed.”

“So you’ve been naked under these,” Sam pulls at your thin shorts, “every time I’ve stayed the night? Every week for years?”

You giggle. “Yeah, I have been naked under my clothes.”

“Naughty girl,” he tsks, ignoring the sarcasm in your voice and delivering a quick bite to the fat of your leg that makes you yelp. Sam flips to his stomach, face between your legs now as he looks up at you with pleading eyes. “So… can I see?”

“You wanna check for yourself?”

He hums, pulling your shorts tight to you with his hand balled up on your stomach. You feel the fabric teasing at your slit, Sam’s eyes trained on the inseam as it sneaks between your folds just enough to run against your clit. “I can see how wet your pussy is.” You blush, your hand running through your hair as you prop yourself up to look at him. His eyes flicker to yours. His head is backlit by the TV, messy blond hair glowing around the edges. Despite the angelic view, his face is dark, pupils big in the dimness of your bedroom as he tugs on his lip ring with his teeth. He stares at you with hunger, breath coming out heavy over your lower stomach, sneaking through the exposed gap of fabric between your tank top and shorts. “Is this gonna fuck everything up?”

You stare down at him through hooded lids, tongue running along your lips. “No. We’re just drunk.”

“‘m not drunk,” Sam utters, face moving closer to your covered core.

“Not drunk either,” you whisper back.

Sam hooks his finger in the crotch of your shorts, slipping the fabric to the side and tucking it to your inner thigh with his thumb. Your pussy is exposed to him and he leans in, running his flat tongue up the length of your slit while maintaining his intense eye contact. You want to watch him taste you, take in his expression as he gets what he’s wanted for so long, but your head falls back against your pillow the moment his tongue piercing meets your clit, an involuntary gasp sucked through your lips. He lingers there for a second before pulling back. You manage the strength to lift your head, stealing a glance between your legs. Sam’s eyes are rolled back, slack jawed. His eyelids flutter as he brings himself back into the moment, a moan bubbling up from his throat like tasting you is all he’s ever cared about. When you lock eyes again, any restraint he has remaining leaves with the lust filled look on your face.

Sam’s tongue flicks over your clit until his lips wrap around it, sucking. The cold metal of his lip piercing introduces a unique sensation working in tandem with his needy mouth to pull out your desperate whimpers. Your head presses to your pillow, back arching as you buck your hips against his face. Sam grabs at them, fingernails pressing into your flesh as he begins to lick from your dripping hole up to the swollen nub he’s been so mindful of. The feeling of his tongue entering you takes you by surprise and he moves it inside you, dragging it along your walls while you ride it.

“Can’t fucking do this,” he grumbles, pulling back. You shoot up, leaning on your elbows as you watch. You don’t think your fragile, desperate state can live with these touches stopping so abruptly. Instead, Sam practically rips your shorts down your legs, throwing them aside. His middle finger prods at your hole, gathering slick before driving it inside your pussy, twisting and curling upward to nuzzle the rough spot of skin hiding below your stomach. His tongue returns to your clit as he pumps into you.

“Sammy,” you whimper, reaching down to tangle your hand into his soft shaggy hair.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he coos, the question feeling rhetorical and teasing. As if anything could be wrong right now.

“Don’t stop.”

“N’ gonna,” he assures against your clit, not bothering to pull away for a second time. He adds his ring finger into your cunt, grunting at the way you stretch to accommodate it, slick spilling down his digits and mixing with the spit he’s left all over the flesh between your legs. “Can you take one more?”

You bite your lip. “Y-yeah, I think so.”

“Bad news, babe, but my cock is bigger than this. G’nna have to stretch ya out.” When you don’t answer, he quickly breaks, adding, “If you wanna take it. I didn’t mean to assume—”

“I want your dick, Sam.” He grins up at you, pressing a kiss to your clit and pulling his fingers out to slowly prod his index against the tight ring of your pussy. You whine as he pushes his way in, giving you time to adjust to the thickness before he picks up his pace. He’s glued onto your expression and you try your best to hold his gaze, letting breathy groans out each time his knuckles meet the skin of your pussy lips, fingers reaching deep inside you. A part of you had always wondered if it was true that guitar players were good at fingering. His long, dexterous digits have thoroughly convinced you. When they curl up into your slick walls, you see stars. Your hand curls up in his hair, tugging on his roots as he admires you with your guard down, letting yourself enjoy his touch.

“I think I’m gonna cum in my pants if I don’t fuck you right now.”

“You think you’ve stretched me enough to take it?”

Sam pulls out, sinking his fingers into his mouth and letting his tongue lick off your sweet taste as if getting it straight from the source hasn’t yet satisfied his taste for it. “I’m willing to give it a try.”

He moves to stand at the edge of the bed as you look down at him, hands tucked under your head. Sam crosses his arms in front of him, gripping the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it haphazardly over his head, dropping it on the ground next to him. One of your hands snake down your torso to your clit and you rub it gently as you watch him undress. He shoots you a shit-eating grin, shaking his head. His shorts are pushed down off his legs as he’s left in tight green boxers. Sam turns to the side, the light from the TV spreading over his body and silhouetting him. Your fingers dip to your pussy as you study his shape, the lines of muscle on his arms and stomach growing sharper with the dramatic shadows cast over him. The bulge of his hard cock sticks out from his body and though you’d felt it pressed against your ass before, you’d never allowed yourself to think about the size of it. Never imagined what it looked like, felt like, tasted like. Now the possibilities are swirling around in your mind and you need answers now.

Sam knows what he’s doing. He’s giving you a show on purpose, thoroughly enjoying the effect it has on you. His fingers dip into the tight waistband of his underwear, dragging them down his hips. The fabric snags on his dick and he makes a scene of painstakingly pulling his boxers down, revealing his length an inch at a time until it springs out. “Sam,” you whine, fingertip running circles around your clit as you wait desperately for him to rejoin you on the bed.

He looks from his cock back over to you, eyes wide with an eyebrow cocked, lips pressed together. “Yeah, babe?”

You raise both eyebrows, climbing to your knees to crawl over to the edge of the bed. “Let me suck your dick.”

“I’ll make you a deal, ‘kay?” Sam sits you up on your knees, tugging at the hem of your little tank top until you lift your arms over your head. He peels it off your torso, pausing to bite at his lip as he reveals your perfect tits before guiding the straps off your arms and discarding it. Sam pushes you backward as he crawls on top, holding himself up on his palms. His cock drags up your stomach, a line of clear, thick precum leaving a trail behind. “You can suck my dick…” he grabs your hip, flipping you onto your stomach underneath him, “if you cum on it first.” His body presses down on you, nudging your knees apart enough to slide the head of his dick along your slit. Pulling his hips back, he nestles it to your slick hole and slowly rocks it into you inch by inch.

You grip the sheets below you, the bottom of your chin rested on the mattress as his length slips inside. The ring of your cunt strains against his girth and you’re thankful for that third finger pushing you closer to your limit. Sam continues, painfully slow, until his hips push tight on your ass. He tugs your hair, tilting your head to the side and pressing his lips to your strained neck. “Fuck, babe. Fuck! ‘re you good?”

“Mm-hmmm,” you hum. The blond doesn’t waste another second as he pulls his hips back and snaps them to you, his cock bullying through your suffocatingly tight walls with each thrust. Your body jolts forward as he fucks harshly into you, mouth attached to your neck to leave bruises identical to those on your thigh. His hand is back on your hip, holding you tight to stabilize you, forcing you back onto him as his tip nudges the sensitive spot inside. His cock feels like it’s in your stomach, convinced you’d be able to see it shifting your organs around if your stomach wasn’t pressed to the bed.

“S’ fucking tight,” Sam slurs, holding himself in you in the last word as you squeeze around his length. “Wish I woulda done this years ago, babe.”

“Me too,” you admit, voice pitched higher than normal, words falling out like moans.

“Yeah? Wish we coulda spent all these movie nights fucking?” You nod, your cheek pushed into the mattress. Sam props himself on his elbows, using the extra height to pull himself nearly all the way out of your cunt before ramming it back inside. He continues this slower, deeper pace on you and what was still left of your functioning brain finally leaves, cries pouring from your lips. “Can’t believe you’re letting me put my dick in you like this, babe. Look so pretty around it.” His fingers rub over your scalp, massaging it as he tugs into the hair falling from it, so twisted up in you. “Can’t keep squeezing me like that or I’m gonna fill you up.”

“Gonna cum, Sammm,” you groan, his throbbing cock tugging on the tight ring of your pussy as he grinds into you. His hand slips under your stomach and finds your clit, fingers slipping over the little button with precision and a quickness that rivals your own despite your extensive experience playing with it. His skilled fingers paired with repeated snaps into your g-spot have you on the edge of your orgasm, burying your face into your blankets and reaching above you to dig your hands into your pillows. He bottoms out in you one last time, short little thrusts keeping you full as you clench desperately to him, your cum flooding over his dick and threatening to leak out and soak your bed. Sam’s free hand is twisted into the sheets as he tries to ride out your orgasm without reaching his. He puts great effort into holding back his groans, coming out instead as grunts which only spur you on.

When he pulls out and frees you from the pin to your bed, you slowly turn over. His cock stands tall, practically dripping with the remnants of your orgasm as he takes his place standing at the end of your bed. You’re breathing heavy as you admire him. The TV has turned to a black screen now, the whole room dark with the exception of the moonlight sneaking under the curtains. Sam leans forward to stroke your leg. “Whenever you’re ready, pretty girl.” His hand runs over his dick, the sound wet with your cum serving as his lubricant. Slowly, you push yourself up and crawl to meet him. You stare down the thick pink tip sitting at eye level as you prep to take it in your mouth. “On your back.”

You glance up at Sam, his eyes stuck on yours. His hand falls to your cheek, thumb stroking it sweetly until you turn your back to him, sitting down and settling yourself on your back. He’s still hot upside down, jaw angled sharply as he looks down his nose at you.

He tucks his hands under your shoulders and pulls you closer so your head slips off the end of the bed. Your eyes flicker up as you adjust to the new position just in time to see Sam guiding his cock to your lips. He slides the head along your slightly parted lips and before you can register it, he’s pushing between them. Your lips close around the ridge of it, your tongue exploring the hard flesh in your mouth. He gives you a moment to lick up his precum, not wasting any time once you’re finished, slipping his cock further into your mouth. His tip pushes into your throat as his balls press into your face, groaning as you take him so good. His palms fall to your breasts, squeezing at the fatty tissue and pinching at your nipples as he begins to slowly thrust himself in and out of your throat in shallow movements.

“Your mouth feels so good, baby,” he whines. “Gonna swallow my cum?” His length is too thick and deep down your throat for you to respond. Sam’s hand moves to your neck, giving it a tight squeeze as he snaps his hips in uneven patterns. “I can feel it throbbing when I hold it down your throat,” he tells you, as if you couldn’t feel it too. He picks up the pace, your mouth falling open to let him push in and out with less restriction. Each time his head bumps into your throat, you let out an involuntary wet noise that he seems to love, hitting it harder each time. “Fuck, babe…”

Sam’s palms suddenly move to the sides of your face, fingers hooking under your chin as he holds you still, fucking into you with thrusts growing slower and harsher until you feel a warmth sliding through you and settling in your stomach. He starts to pull out but holds his tip in your mouth, another spurt of cum coating your tongue as he gives his cock a rough stroke to milk it out. His dick eventually leaves your mouth, your lips staying parted as you try to catch your breath and recover from the abuse on your throat from his mean cock. He crouches down to look you in your eyes. “Be a good girl and swallow the rest. Did so good, babe.” You follow his directions, closing your mouth only to gulp down the milky cum that rests inside before falling back to a panting mess. He kisses your cheek and stands back up, helping you back up only to lay your head on the pillows at the other end of the bed. Sam crawls in next to you, holding you tight as you recover, his own breathing somewhat heavy following his orgasm.

“You’re a good best friend,” he coos, stroking your hair as he pulls your head onto his bare chest. You snuggle into his warm body, your own body temp having come down as you lay still, naked above the covers. “Just wish you would’ve told me you’d let me fuck you years ago.”

“Wish you would’ve told me you could fuck like that.”

“You thought I would be a bad lay?” Sam asks, his hand on his chest as he hangs his mouth open dramatically. “I don’t practice every night for nothing.”

“Is that why Jodi finally let you get a lock on your door?”

He groans. “Don’t talk about my mom while you’re still digesting my cum.”

“Noted.”

“So… same time tomorrow?” You laugh. “Seriously. I’d save a lot of tissues if I can just use your mouth. It’s the environmentally friendly thing to do.”

You shove his side playfully, prompting him to wrap you up in his arms. “Don’t blame me for that. Use a sock or something.”

“So you don’t want to do that again?”

You roll your eyes as he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I didn’t say that.”

Sam smirks, stealing a kiss. “You can admit that you’re addicted to my cock.”

“‘m not admitting that.”

He shrugs, letting you go so he can get out of bed to grab his boxers, tossing your tank top and shorts over to you while he’s at it. “That’s okay. You’ll admit it tomorrow.”

#stardew valley #stardew valley smut #sdv sam #sdv sam x reader #x reader #stardew sam #stardew valley sam #stardew valley sam smut #sdv sam smut #stardew smut #sdv smut

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lundenloves · 2 years ago

Text

BABY’S FIRST WORDS

〔 a fluff piece brought to you by yours truly. domesticity at its finest, featuring the rarity of simon joking and we even observe a rare laugh from him. not without his usual cluelessness and blunt nature though. king! 〕

˗ˏˋ i honestly love him just existing as a dad. learn as you go type stuff, his daughter latching onto him when he wanted it least must’ve done him good. our emotionally stunted husband — someone give this man a hug and tell him he’s alr.

⇀ 1k | no warnings

dad!simon masterlist | masterlist | request info | taglist

Of course. Of course it had happened the only ten minutes of the day you had left her — barely managing one foot in the shower before Simon had opened the door with your daughter in his hands. Not arms, but hands. “She spoke.” He provided lamely, holding her out to you as if she contained a transferable illness.

You grabbed a towel, wrapping it around your dry body before taking her from him, the smile she made was adoring. “She what.” Brows pung upward, your brief frown at his interruption loosening into a warmth while peppering kisses all across her cheeks. “She—“

“She said my name.”

“She said Simon?” You retorted and he scoffed, taking a step backward to the door, forearm leant on the threshold. “Dad?” She reached for your hair, small fingers pulling on it with a smile when you had begun bouncing her from side to side.

Simon shifted. “Bit like,” His words were lost for a baby laugh, one that echoed against the bathroom walls. Your hand was against your mouth in milliseconds, finding obvious tears welling in your eyes.

“What the fuck.” You mouthed, smoothing the hair on her head and Simon raised his brows in acknowledgment of your reaction, the faintest of smiles tugging at the side of his lip. “Sorry, what did she say?” You let a breathy laugh go, one that emphasised your emotionality.

His eyes switched between you and his daughter, leaning his full weight against the door now. “Da.”

You tilted your head at him. “Doesn’t that make you feel whole?” The baby in your arms began flailing her arms in your hold, reaching for her father as if on cue.

Simon shrugged, pushing off from the door to close the distance between you and allowing her to poke at his tattoo. “Didn’t think much of it.” He admitted, his eyes landing on yours that had narrowed ever so slightly with an understanding nod.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” He bit at the skin on his top lip, acutely aware of the flaring of your nostrils. A list of potential worries flurrying your mind, ones you would all deem as irrational though Simon probably wouldn’t. It was valid to worry about his reactions.

His immediate reaction to your daughters first laugh was, “Oh, shit.” The noise being between a baby coo and giggle combined into something that would’ve burst your chest yet only poked at his. He held her outward, stretched forearms while her small feet kicked in the air.

Then came her first word, one of demand, a strong “Da!” One Simon had told himself meant dad, though it was more likely a protesting noise to be put down. Whatever the noise meant, he granted her outstretched hands, placing her back down onto his knee and bouncing it up and down gently.

By no means did Simon Riley know what to do with a baby, he was still learning, very slowly — but surely. “What was that?” He mumbled at her, his eyes boring into hers as if she were an adult who could understand his demanding stare. “Tell dad, eh? Say it again.”

To clarify the noise wasn’t made in anger.

Instead, she grabbed at his shoulder, bunching up the material of his shirt loosely. “Or that.” He muttered, diverting his attention along with her own to Blue Planet that had been on pause for ten minutes since you had left.

He tapped his fingers in quick succession of the one before, the sofa armrest now becoming a point of interest for the baby who had watched his hand move. Though, right before she could hike off his thigh, he had then decided to take her through to you. You know, just to let you know your daughter had just spoken her first word (noise) alongside a laugh.

“Did she say anything else?” You asked, pushing a stray strand of hair that had fallen to his forehead only for it to drop back down.

“Yeah.” He said bluntly, taking her from your hold and looking down to her. “Quantum physics,”

A pause for your sigh. “Explained it all.”

You nudged his shoulder, turning to check the shower temperature. “Go put her down. She’s due a sleep.” Your back was to the man, though his expression was easily imagined. “No, I can’t do it.”

Oftentimes, Simon zoned out when doing anything with the baby. It was something he took through future years too, future kids and all ages, arguments at breakfast? Zoned out. Walking with him? Not there. Even talking to him? Meh.

He put the baby down in a trance, standing over the cot silently praying to gods he didn’t believe in that she would continue her peace. That no cries would break and his headache would remain in its rest, taking slow steps backward when she had shut her eyes.

“Can't believe she spoke to you.” You had said later that night, leant against a barstool watching Simon cut up an onion in that one way you just couldn’t master. “And not me, that is.”

“I have a charm.” He pointed the knife on its end, spinning it on the cutting board before eyeing you. “Obviously.”

“A silent-threatening-mediocre type of charm.”

He shrugged, sliding the annoyingly perfect dicing into a pan. “First laugh too.” It was a mumble designed to entice a reaction, and that it did, your arm barging against his after hearing your baby cry on cue.

“I’ll get something from her yet.” You picked up washing from the bottom stair, beginning up the stairs to go and pacify.

“Only got the rest of your life!” He shouted for you to hear, gaining an earnest roll of your eyes.

“I prefer you when you’re quiet.” You spoke aloud, just enough to gain a laugh from him, one you imagined he had let go without permission while aggressively preparing another onion.

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkbbyx3 @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov @cliosunshine @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @maki-z @yyiikes @tieflingteatime @cosmoscoffeee @lilvampirina @cinnabeanz @bubbyblob @spencerreidisbae123

unedited as usual. gonna go over my dad!simon masterlist this week. reblogs and comments are hugely appreciated!

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karabell · 9 months ago

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Oooof I know this is super late but this piece took a lot to complete lol

Happy 100 109 Discord members!!

The challenge was to draw the gang as detectives, so I put them all in a 1940’s-inspired detective au!

(I also had to completely guess most of Violets design lol)

Plus a little bonus storyline that I came up with while I was drawing this:

“Entry 39. July 13th, 1941, Charlie Hollow.

The case hasn’t been progressing like we’d hoped. Another person went missing yet again, and just as all the others, only the victim's eye was left at their last known location. The people in town are getting desperate for answers, and we can only tell them to remain calm, to stay inside, and to keep their doors locked.

All my leads have turned up dead ends, and at this point it just feels like this killer is driving us in circles. They leave decoy evidence, and always leave one of the victim’s eyes in a glass jar as the signature of their crime. They are skilled, that’s for sure. They never leave another trace.

Reports from the lab don’t help us, either. None of the victims are related, or show any kind of DNA from another person. All we’ve managed to gather from them was that the cuts that removed the eye from its owner were clean. The killer is definitely handy with a knife. A chef, perhaps?

Our current lead seems promising, at least. We’ve found that there is a connection to the library. The names of the missing people match ones that have been documented as having checked out books. Fairy tales specifically. We’ve found a few of these books in the victims' homes, but there doesn’t seem to be any differences in these books compared to others.

When we’ve asked the librarian, his answers always remained the same. ‘My apologies detective, but I have no evidence I can provide. I offer my sincerest condolences to the families affected’.

It’s not just his practiced excuse that keeps him at the top of my suspect list. There’s always been something…off about him. His actions always seem too choreographed. He never makes a wrong step, or fumbles over his words, or even shows a hint of expression on his face. It’s always the same quirk of his lips forming a smile, the same tilt of his head, the same tone of voice, and the same eyes, ones void of empathy. Eyes that have seen so much in their time, that they’ve become dull. I know the killer is connected to him, and I will do anything and everything to figure it out.”

#cinderellaboydiscord100thchallenge #cinderella boy #my art #cinderella boy webtoon #chase cinderella boy #buddy cinderella boy #deacon cinderella boy

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thewalkingwillowtree · 7 months ago

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Courting Ayelýn

Series Listing Found Here

Aonung x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Pressured by his parents to enter a formal courtship, Aonung rebels in his own way and what starts as a ruse, turns into something real.

Note before reading: This is a spin off of my Safe Haven Series.

Reading Safe Haven is not necessary to follow this story.

Some characters have been aged up. Aonung in particular is 25.

Ayelýn is my own creation. *Pronounced Aye-Lin

Warning!! This part contains smut.

Part 4 - When They Fucked

When Aonung had asked for the two of them to do something, Ayelýn thought perhaps they’d still end up somewhere public- for show.

Maybe they’d take a walk along the beach, or even attend a storytelling event, but no.

What she hadn’t intended from his request of it being just the two of them was that it truly was… just the two of them.

Their evening started out with a late night swim. Aonung led her to one of his favourite spots- a brightly illuminated, underwater hidden gem, filled with sea fauna and flora that was too beautiful for words.

And so captivated by her surroundings, Lýn had missed the way Aonung drank her in- as though seeing her for the very first time.

Later on, they found themselves on his private tiny island, seated inside of the little makeshift structure he had crafted for himself.

The sort of lean-to design was just tall enough that Aonung didn’t hit his head when standing and wide enough that at least four Na’vi could fit comfortably.

Mismatched, frayed mats laid scattered on the sand, acting as a sort of flooring that also provided comfort, and there was even a well-worn hammock set up in a way that the amazing scenery was still within view.

Near the threshold, they sat face to face as Aonung revealed dish after dish from a sack that had already been there waiting for them. Their position also allowed them the gorgeous view of the glittering sky and sea- stars all out in their glory as rhythmic crashing waves sang.

In quick succession, laid out between them was an impressive spread that had Lýn salivating.

“My Eywa,” she whispered through an excited smile, tucking flyaways behind her ears. “It all looks so good! Is- is this hexapede?”

“Mhm,” Aonung hummed, loving her reactions.

“Where did all of this come from?”

“We got a huge delivery of goods this morning from the Omaticaya. I’ve already made sure Keftxo gets their fair share,” he said, trying not to wince guiltily. “I didn’t know any wasn’t given to Keftxo the last two times… but things should be brought down within the next few days since they’re still sorting through everything we got.”

The trading system between the clans of Pandora was well developed by now. With the use of human technology, communication was up and running, thus, enabling an established procedure.

“Aonung,” Lýn voiced softly. She had no words. He’d gone above and beyond for her little village time and time again.

He tutted at her affectionately, understanding the wave of gratitude she was trying to express.

“We got fresh meat this time around. I made us some hexepade stew and roasted hexape-”

“Wait… you cooked? You? I thought you hate cooking?”

He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled something incoherent under his breath and without responding, he continued pointing out the options- one after the other.

“- oh and Lo’ak gave us a couple of these things from his private stash- something called sari cakes, I think? They’re courtesy Neteyam’s mother-in-law… and finally-” He emptied a pouch that held, “Yovo fruit.”

Ayelýn gasped. “Yovo fruit? You’re kidding! I’ve always wanted to try these.”

“I know.” Aonung had gotten them specially well preserved for the journey- just for her.

He chose the best looking one of the batch and held it out to her, pleased when she leaned in to take a bite of the fruit between his fingers.

Tossing the remaining piece in his mouth, he watched as her face morphed into one of ecstasy, eyes rolling in bliss, lips licked with a moan of appreciation. Her reaction had the front of his tweng straining within seconds.

“That’s sooo good,” she sighed.

“Fuck, Lýn.” He cracked his neck, willing his body to calm down. “Can you try not to kill me so early tonight?” he half begged, half teased.

It took her a split second to catch his meaning, but when she spotted his obvious situation- one he made no effort to hide, she managed to mumble an apology through a mortified blush- though a small part of her was pleased she had that much of an effect on him.

Conversation, fun and flowing after that, they talked about everything and nothing as they indulged in their Omaticaya delicacies- sharing and feeding each other bites of food with exclamations of “you have to try this!” and “oh Eywa, this one is amazing!”

And when their bellies were full and satisfied, their attention fell on the view before them.

A light breeze ruffled their hair while they sat in comfortable silence- both minds preoccupied.

Fiddling with his bottom lip, Aonung tossed fleeting glances Lýn’s way- a question on the tip of his tongue. And unbeknownst to him, Lýn was also sneaking her own peeks- finding him far more captivating than their scenery.

Momentarily distracted by a leather waterskin almost sort of hidden behind him, she couldn’t help ask, “What’s in that? Did we forget to try something?”

“Hm?” He turned to see, then, “Oh, no. That’s not for you to try. Lo'ak said it’s lethal. Some insane concoction called Spir’ytüs.”

Ayelýn looked affronted. “What do you mean not for me to try? I want to try it.”

“Sorry, gorgeous but no.”

“All I’m asking is for a sip!”

“Lýn, you can barely handle the lightly fermented ones we make here.”

“Says who?!”

“Uh- says me? Says that one time you were stupid enough to have a competition with Rotxo and I had to carry you back to your parents inebriated and had to explain to them that it was in no way my fault, yet your father glared at me as if I had fed you every sip myself!”

“That was one time! You know I usually hold my spirits well!”

“Yeeah. I’m not taking any chances. Especially with something I haven’t tried yet.”

Determination blazing through her gaze and boldness taking control, Lýn crossed over to his side, careful of the spread that separated them, and in the blink of an eye, she was planting herself in his lap, knees on either side of hips.

At her shocking actions, Aonung worked his jaw, eyes flickering to her lips before returning to her eyes. “You’re playing a very dangerous game, Ayelýn.”

“Am I?” Her palms danced down his skin, starting from his shoulders, feathering down his chest to land flat against the hard panes of his stomach. They rounded his sides with clear intent on the pouch behind him. “Not if I win,” she whispered in his ear.

Like lightning, he caught her wrists and clutched them in one hand. Her feeble protests died rather quickly when he lifted his knees- making her land exactly where he wanted. The jaw dropping shock on her face at the intimate feeling of him pressed up against her warm heat was worth the painful ache it came with.

Lýn could do nothing but watch as he used his free hand to pop off the top of the waterskin and take a deep swig of its contents.

He tried not to wince at the burn but failed- it was sickly sweet and definitely fucking potent.

“I win,” he rasped, triumphant grin stretching wide and taunting as he tightened his hold on her wrists- not that he needed to, since the minx in his lap put up no fight.

Never one to back down, Ayelýn arched her brow as if saying really? And then she surprised him yet again by leaning in and kissing him- tongue darting out to taste the essence of the sweet spirits lingering on his lips and tongue.

She’d stolen her taste.

It happened so fast, Aonung barely had time to register, because she was then leaning back with a satisfied smirk and smacking her lips with a pleased hum.

“No… I think I, win.”

But Aonung was quick to retaliate. Greedy and demanding, he devoured her with the type of kiss that had her dizzy within mere seconds.

Wrists released, her hands framed his face as their lips and tongues danced- moving to a tune that worked in perfect symphony.

“Stay,” he begged against her lips- finally asking that question he knew he shouldn’t be asking.

He chased after her when she tried to break their connection, stealing one last firm kiss before she managed to push him backwards.

“Aonung, this is a bad idea.”

Logically, he knew she was right.

It was a terrible idea.

Eyes roaming over her, he licked his lips. At some point he had released the tie that kept her wild hair confined. She was stunning- swollen lips, flushed cheeks and fully blown pupils.

He wanted to kiss her again.

So he did.

One hand tangled her hair, he angled her head and parted her lips with his own. And though he could still feel her lingering inner fight, she kissed him back just as feverishly.

Lýn rolled her hips- a single, deep roll against the thick ridge of him that gave her the most delicious friction despite the layers separating them- one that gained her a staggering groan from Aonung.

“Do you have to get back tonight?”

“Anou-”

He didn’t want to face her rejection just yet, so he silenced her with another kiss- a kiss that made her tail and toes curl… a kiss that hurt her heart just a little bit.

The incessant throbbing between her thighs had become overly unbearable and, aching for relief, Lýn gave in, encouraging his touch as his hands explored her skin.

They skimmed up her thighs and squeezed her ass before traveling up her sides- calloused thumbs sweeping the underside of her breasts.

A loud swear escaped him and his hips bucked when she rolled again- core rubbing deliberate and way too much for him to handle. He clamped a firm hand on her waist to prevent her from doing it again.

Unhappy about this, she smacked the hand away and he smacked her backside in response, tugging on her tail in warning for good measure.

“Ayelýn, I’m going to come within seconds if you keep that up.”

“That sounds like a you problem.” She yelped at the tug of her hair and the stinging bite he left on her neck.

“So mouthy,” he mused.

“And you’re annoying,” she muttered with a nip of her own against his jaw.

But then, reality creeping in, alarming and loud in her head, Lýn’s mouth moved faster than her mind, spewing, “I’m not a play-thing.”

Aonung reared back to see her face. A flash of hurt crossed his features and despite how fast he’d schooled his expression, she still caught it. “Of course you're not… Where did that even come from?”

“I- I’m just saying… I don’t know what any of this is or what we’re doing, but I needed you to know that.”

“Lýn. You're not,” he emphasized.

She nodded, glad to have at least cleared that with him.

“And anyway… It’s- uh… been a while for me,” he admitted in a soft tone. “I don’t- I’m not that Aonung anymore. I’d hope you think so too.”

She did think so. Aonung was so much more different than she’d realized. Different from the rumors… different from when they’d first met.

“When you say a while…”

“Mmm, counting? Over a year…” He scratched his jaw. “Almost two by now since we’ve been together- well not together together-” he rambled. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh.” Ayelýn turned the information around in her mind as she bit on the tip of her thumb.

He hadn’t been with a woman in that long? How? Why?

“Okay,” she finally said. “And to be clear, you want to-” she gestured between the two of them, “-with me?”

“Yes,” he answered firmly, fingers toying with the string that kept her top in place. “It’s no pressure though. We’re just having fun, right?”

“Fun.”

“Mhmm.” He ducked his head to nose at that spot where her neck and jaw connected. With one tug of the string, the beaded thing covering her breasts fell into her lap.

A shudder made her jerk in his arms and Lýn blamed it on a gust of wind. This time of year and this late out, the breeze could get nippy… It definitely wasn’t the way Aonung was mouthing at her flesh, or the way his thumbs brushed over her hardened nipples.

Definitely not…

Fuck.

“Okay,” she agreed breathlessly, head lulling backwards as his path trailed from her collarbones, to the tops of her chest that rose and fell in anticipation. “But just this one time and we don’t talk about it afterwards. Agreed?”

Aonung paused at her words.

He didn’t want that.

And instead of responding, he swallowed her nipple into his mouth.

Sex with Aonung was not at all what Ayelýn imagined… and yes guilty- she had imagined this moment…. Many times actually.

In the early days of their pretend courtship, a heartbroken woman named Zers’i had cornered Lýn, giving her a piece of her mind- accusing her of stealing the man she hoped she’d settle down with.

By the end of the rant, Zers’i had turned from bitter and angry into a sobbing mess. And in the midst of Lýn, comforting the weeping woman on her shoulder, it led to an interesting revelation.

“You’re going to have to do all the work. I- I guess I don’t feel so bad now,” the blubbering soul had stammered through tears.

At the time, Ayelýn didn’t know what that meant, but with two other confrontations that bore similar remarks, she gathered that Aonung could be somewhat of a selfish lover.

Yet here, in this moment as the stars watched over them, Aonung had ripped sounds from her lips she didn’t even know she could make.

The man was ruthless in his pursuit to learn what she liked- mapping her body with his hands, lips, tongue… tail.

He was far from selfish as he stayed buried between her thighs for Eywa knows how long, lapping and sucking while his fingers curled deep within her heat, causing delicious pleasure to consume her in wave after wave.

Then, while she was mid recovery from another glorious orgasm, he was rearing onto his knees, lifting her calf over his shoulder and thrusting into her in one fluid stroke- right the the hilt.

That first time, the burning stretch and his pace was brutal.

Skin slapping on skin he took her hard and fast, practically contouring her body to his will as profanity fell from his lips like a prayer. He really didn’t last long at all and he even apologized for it when he dropped down next to her to catch his breath.

Post orgasmic haze, his lips were everywhere, peppering her with sweet, playful kisses as he whispered things that made her blush.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?”

“You make the prettiest sounds when you come.”

“Will you let me taste you again?”

“...You’re beautiful.”

Eager to have her own way with him, she had slithered between his thighs, mouth watering at the sight of him coated in her arousal.

Lýn was pretty sure dicks weren’t supposed to look pretty. She guessed he must have been an exception.

He was quite impressive even though he was half hard. She wouldn’t tell him that though, she was sure it would only go to his head, especially judging by the stupid smirk he’d given her as she took him in.

Lýn enjoyed teasing him. Within seconds of her little playful strokes and licks, he was fully erect and leaking all over her hand. His stomach hollowed out and his moans and grunts were loud as her head bobbed- mouth taking him deeper and deeper down her throat each time she came up for air.

And when the cusp of his impending release came near, he was sitting up, impatiently pulling her up his body by the hair and kissing her with such passion, she was on the verge of combusting.

Drenched between her thighs from her own arousal and his release from earlier, he slipped in with ease, sliding her down his length until she took him all- back bowing because at this angle, the man was impossibly deep.

Eyes locked in unspoken intensity, they released quiet breathy sighs as they relished in the feeling of him seated inside her- deep and full and tight and warm.

Limbs folded around each other and lips meeting halfway, they rocked slowly, fucking in a way that didn’t feel like fucking at all.

Aonung planted kisses on her temple and her cheek and jaw, hands smoothing over every inch of skin he could find while Lýn clung to him- tiny murmurs and mewls escaping her.

They moved in tandem, deliberate rolls and grinds that weren’t rushed or hurried as they climbed higher and higher- the build up so profound and fervent, a few tears sprang to Lýn’s eyes.

“Fuck, I’m going to come soon.” He licked away the lone teardrop that escaped her, and she tasted the salt on his tongue when he parted her lips with it. “Come with me, gorgeous. Please.”

She nodded and led one of his hands between them, showing him what she wanted- clit needing attention for her to get there.

It was tempting to increase their rhythm, to want rock harder or move faster, but they both kept their pace, gradually getting to that peak that swelled and blossomed until they neared that break.

Rhythm eventually growing erratic, then faltering, Aonung hid his face- nose pressed into Lýn’s cheek as his fingers tightened their hold- in her hair at her nape, the others circling her clit.

Ayelýn came with a soft cry and a full body spasm, trembling as she felt his warmth spread inside her. She moaned into Aonung’s mouth- his own groans accompanying hers.

Pleasure thrumming throughout her body, he continued to grind into her- drawing little aftershocks and whimpers from her.

Both limbless and exhausted, they collapsed against the mats beneath them.

Aonung slipped out from between her legs and Lýn made a face at the gush of mess slowly escaping her. Though, she was too worn out to care to do anything about it. Eywa, there was so much of it.

Arm draped around her waist, Aonung kissed her forehead and whispered something she didn’t make out. She squirmed closer, and made a home in his arms, content to use a bicep as a pillow and to squish her face into the space below his shoulder.

And in the quiet of their shelter, the sounds of rolling waves lulled them into calm.

Aonung did not find rest easily that night. While Lýn slept, his thoughts plagued him. Knuckles running down her spine, he held her close…

Something he’d never done with anyone before.

Aongung didn’t do cuddling.

He didn’t do soft and sweet fucking.

And he definitely didn’t do night overs.

He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping his thoughts would grow tired.

Ayelýn confused him.

He knew he liked her. He hadn’t realized just how deep, however. The way in which this woman had wormed her way into his constant thoughts, terrified him.

A small dark part of him- a lingering remnant of the old Aonung, thought that fucking her would get her out of his system.

They’d fucked alright, yet here he was, holding her because he still couldn’t get enough. She was no longer only in his thoughts.

She had seeped into his veins…

Into his heart.

Giving up on his inner struggle, he decided to literally give up. He was done fighting this.

Done fighting them.

Cupping her neck he held her to him as quiet prayers to Eywa left his lips, whispers buried into Ayelýn’s hair.

When morning broke, neither of them spoke about it.

And in the following hours that turned into days that turned to weeks, neither acknowledged the evident shift between them.

Eywa.

Please give me calm, give me strength.

Ayelýn blew out another shaky breath. She was a nervous wreck this morning.

Tail twitching behind her, she made yet another wrong turn along a bouncing pathway… Maybe it was deliberate? Maybe it was her body’s way of protecting her from what was to come.

Eywa. She really didn’t want to do this.

Throughout her journey, Lýn kept a look out for a familiar mountain of a man who she couldn’t seem to find anywhere. Of all days, this was not a day for him to be missing!

Despite her obvious prolonging, she couldn’t stall any further or else she’d be late, and after final, futile efforts, she at least felt some ounce of relief when she spotted Aonung’s sister.

“Tsireya!” she called out.

“Ayelýn!” the woman chirped in pleasant surprise, walking over to meet her halfway. “Are you looking for my brother?”

“Well, yes and no. I was hoping to catch him for a moment.”

“He’s out on a hunt. Won’t be back till late.”

“Oh.” That was disappointing to hear.

“What’s wrong?”

Lýn licked her lips and tried not to grimace. “My presence has been requested. Your mother summoned me,” she revealed.

Tsireya appeared unaffected by the news, though she did pick up on Lýn’s nervousness. “I had a feeling this would happen eventually. I told my brother as much… He’s so stubborn,” she muttered with a fond shake of her head.

“Why does she want to see me then? I was just told to come here.”

“Sa'nok has been asking Aonung to have you come by for a while now and he’s been swimming around it,” Tsireya explained. “She thinks he keeps you purposely away from her and I’m guessing she’s had enough… and of course she’d choose the day he was on an all day hunt.”

“Ah. I see.” Lýn weighed her options, then, “Reya, I have no clue what to say to her… the few times we’ve interacted were- weird and awkward and honestly, I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“Lýn, trust me, you’ll be fine. She simply wants to get to know you. She did the same thing with my Lo’ak.”

That did ease away some of Ayelýn’s nerves.

Tsireya took her hand and squeezed it in comfort. “And just a secret between you and me… if she offers you to stay for a meal with her, it means she definitely approves.”

Ayelýn tried not to squirm, but sitting before an intimidating Ronal would make just about anyone uncomfortable.

They’d been sitting in silence ever since she’d arrived and Lýn decided to cope by focusing on her surroundings while Ronal continued to study her. After all, every nook of the Tsahìk’s marui had something curious to see.

“What is your appointed position in your village, Ayelýn?”

Lýn startled, not only from the sudden break in their long, suffering silence, but also from the question.

By now, it was no secret what her role in the clan was. Ayelýn had gotten her fair share of snickers and stray comments and at one feast only a couple days ago, she had to pull away a snarling Aonung when he’d overheard a group of women bad mouthing her and her scrubber status.

The Tsahìk had also been present and seated nearby and Lýn had even caught her watching the ordeal in great interest.

“I’m a scrubber, Tsahìk.”

“Hm. Do you enjoy it?”

“I don’t think anyone enjoys being a scrubber,” Lyn answered honestly. “But it is work, and I am diligent about it.”

Ronal appeared to think before she spoke again.

“Should you have the opportunity, what would you prefer to be doing then?”

“Oh- no, I-”

“T’is only a question, child. Won’t you humor a curious woman?”

“Ah… I- I suppose I’ve always had an interest in mending things.” Lýn held in a chuckle, remembering her first meeting with Aonung and his mortified reaction to her canoe. “Though I don’t believe I’d be any good at it given my lack of skill.”

“Skill can be easily learnt,” Ronal said, helping herself to a sip of her brewed seaweed and herb tea. “If I’m not mistaken, Hythspon is finally considering getting an apprentice- I believe you know him? Perhaps you might be interested in taking the position? I can put in a good word for you, if you’d like.”

Ayelýn sat up straighter. “Truly? I- thank you, Tsahìk… I will give it some thought.”

“You should… It means, you’d also be closer to Aonung since you’d have to move to Awa’atlu.”

Unsure how to respond to that, Ayelýn mashed her lips together and gave a small nod.

“My son does not realize it, but he speaks a great deal about you. I, however, am interested in getting to know the women he intends to mate and bring into our family, for myself... So tell me.” Ronal sat back expectantly.

Lýn frowned. “What exactly would you like to know?”

“Everything, my dear. Everything. You will not be Tsahìk- since my Reya is next in line, but if and when you and my son do mate, you will be the mate of the Metkayina’s future Olo'eyktan. It is my duty to know who that woman is… So tell me, everything.”

And so, Lýn spoke as Ronal asked her question after question.

She was asked about her family and her completed rites; Keftxo, her childhood, her likes and dislikes, what her values were and what she did in her free time. Ronal asked her what she envisioned for her future, even how many children she wanted to have.

With each question, they became more direct and personal and Ayelýn felt her walls going up and panic bubble in her chest. Her body was so rigid and tense, she had to force herself to unclench her jaw, to uncurl her tail and to give her shoulders the occasional roll.

When requested, Ayelýn recounted the story of how she and Aonung first met and then Ronal asked her a question she had been dreading the most.

“Aonung won’t say, but when do you believe you two will take the next step? I am keen to have the meeting of the two families. Tonowari and I have been lenient. We gave Aonung a year, it has now been almost two. I understand this must be a bit difficult for you, but… it has been long enough.”

Stunned, Ayelýn fiddled with the end of her tail, then, catching herself, she stopped. “We will discuss it, Tsahìk,” she feebly promised.

“That is all I ask,” she said. “You may continue to court of course, there is no pressure to make the mating bond just yet.”

Tension eased from Lýn’s shoulders at that.

“But, you have to understand, we need to know for certain whether or not this is a secure match,” she explained with surprising gentleness.

“I understand.”

“Good… Now tell me, Ayelýn. Are you happy in your courtship with my son? Truly?”

“Yes. He-” Lýn cleared her throat. “I am happy… He makes me happy.”

“Hmm.” Ronal’s unwavering eyes made Lýn uncomfortable. “I must speak my mind when I say I was quite surprised by my son’s choice of you.”

Feeling another wall of guardedness shift into place, Lýn clenched her jaw. “Because I am a scrubber from Keftxo?”

Surprise clouded Ronal’s features for a fraction of a second. “Oh goodness, no. Nothing to do with that. If anything I am baffled as to why you- a woman with her head on her shoulders- are with my Aonung- given how he can be.”

“How he- can be? Forgive me, Tsahìk, but don’t understand.”

“Aonung is… subversive. He is wild and brash- rude. He is selfish in nature and is reckless with his life. As his mother, I want nothing more than for him to see that he is destined to do great things.”

Lýn’s heart thundered in her chest. She should have bit her tongue but it was quicker to release. “Your son is already doing great things.”

Ronal regarded the woman before her. Gone was the fidgeting, nervous slip of a Na’vi. Ayelýn was livid.

“You don’t agree with me?” she asked, mildly amused.

“No. No, I don’t. Aonung is defined by none of those descriptions.”

“Oh?”

“Tsahìk, my apologies for speaking out of turn but- Aonung is bold, and kind. He is brave and he may seem selfish at times like you say but he would put his own life in danger for the help of others. He is brash and rude but he is also funny and sweet and charming- and he wants nothing more than your approval of him. He wants you and his father to see him- not as a constant disappointment but as your son…. He’s a good leader, he has heart and strength and the people love him!

“And yes he has his flaws- Don’t we all?! But he is our future Olo'eyktan- his mistakes no matter how big or small are seen as monumental in anyone else's eyes. He’s allowed to make mistakes, he’s allowed to learn from them and not have them constantly thrown back in his face... Like anyone else, he’s allowed to be forgiven…. Especially by his parents.”

Silence followed.

An awestruck appearance of realization formed on the Tsahìk’s face and Lýn braced herself for Ronal’s wrath.

“You speak with such passion for Aonung. I had not realized you were in love with my son.”

Ayelýn released a shaky breath. Not outrightly disagreeing with the statement, she didn’t correct it either.

Since her mother’s slip of the word love a little over a month ago, she’d had sufficient time to dwell and think.

At every attempt to reason away the absurdity, Lýn had failed.

She was in love with Aonung.

Through and through.

Flaws and all.

“We are courting, Tsahìk. Of course I care deeply for him.”

“For someone like Aonung with a commitment to his clan, courting has nothing to do with love, child. It is a path to secure a match in the end. You may care deeply, yes, but finding love in courtship for him is a gift. As leaders, courtship means duty, honor, security.”

Lýn bit her lip. She finally understood the pressures Aonung face day after day.

“Then, as a leader whose duty is for the clan- their needs, their happiness… Doesn’t Aonung deserve that too? You speak of love as this surprising gift between a match. But… can’t he just want to find love for himself?”

Ronal’s lips twitched and instead of answering, she asked her own questions. “Does my son know? Does he know how deep your feelings for him fall?”

“...No.”

“And will you tell him?”

Ayelýn’s head bowed, wordlessly answering the question.

“Pity… Well. There is still time, no?” The Tsahìk uncovered a platter. “I am famished. Would you like to join me for lunch, Ayelýn?”

Staring stunned at the spread, when Lýn glanced up, Ronal was smiling.

The type of smile that told Ayelýn she’d passed some kind of test.

Hello friends! 💛

Firstly, I promise you, I tried so many others, but that's the title that happened to stick for this part... and on the topic, I hope the smut was alright... Hehe.

This part got way too long, so I split it into two. The next one coming out will be the final part. *Fingers Crossed*

As always, please let me know what you think.

Tags:@jakesullyfatjuicypeen@granddearduck@riatesullironalite@strawberri-blonde@earthling55 @innercreationflower @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop@blkmystery@neteswife@luvteyams@isnt-itstrange@erenjaegerwifee@faatxma@ivysully@bakugouswaif@pinkpantheris @mntx666@ironcaptainnataliabarnes @staymentallystable @neteyamslovrr @melsunshine

#safe haven #courting ayelyn #aonung #aonung mini fic #aonung fanfic #aonung x reader #aonung x female reader #aonung x y/n

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vomitspit2 · 7 months ago

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concept with jade leech

there is no dire-beast inside the mirror chamber, and there are no ghosts inhabiting ramshackle. it is simply: you, alone in a rundown building, after the headmaster leaves.

you have been pinching yourself through the day. little crescent marks litter your wrist.

for the past six or so hours, you have been trying really hard to wake up from this dream. nothing is working. desolate, you take to wandering the house.

you know your imagination is strong but an entire college, idiosyncratic characters, and an entire furnished building is a bit complex. still, you card through the squabble, hoping to unearth some mistake in physics that will tell you that this is a dream. that search ends abruptly when you find a loose floorboard and the fragile wood underneath you gives out like a snapped cracker.

you land hard.

ten feet down in the basement, lying on your back.

blinking away dust, your eyes land upon the piece of wood speared cleanly through your abdomen.

the pain tells you this is too much to be a dream.

it is a full two hours you lie there immobile. you try rolling on your side, hoping to at least stand up, but each motion is anguish in an ineffable amount. you wrap your hands around the red wood and try to pull; it leads to your eyeballs rolling so far back you see new colors. skin shining with generous sweat and dipping in and out of consciousness, you lie there and bid limited time until someone from this new world comes to find you. the headmaster will eventually come back, right?

you think about a multitude of things.

you think about how if your corpse withers here, the puss running out your orifices will look like cream cheese.

you think about how the glittering wands those students held might work, is it like harry potter or a unique universe.

you think about how you still had to go to work tomorrow in your own original universe, attend classes, hope plans with friends don’t fall through so you laugh carefree without lungfuls of blood.

your last slip from consciousness to eternal unconsciousness, you think about home. the bed you slept in, the books read and films watched, the snack wrappers on the sheets, what a comforting waste.

you drift off, expecting to be jolted awake again by your own feverish mind, and die, bleeding out on ramshackle’s basement floor.

it takes azul awhile to gain ramshackle’s dorm.

the one new student he saw during the opening ceremony apparently stayed there one night and fled the next morning. as the headmaster’s report goes, crowley found no one living there when he went to check the following day. however, the usage of ramshackle by that magicless student opened up a gate of opportunity and azul did not let it go to waste.

the negotiations took awhile and the proper refurbishment will have to be done. but just before winter exams, azul has managed to secure himself a second location for mostro lounge.

first, damages have to be assessed.

the building is disgusting, rundown, and simply inhabitable. busy with the 250 students he has under contract, azul assigns jade to spend a november afternoon there and make note of what they need to start repairing first.

azul really hopes the plumbing is salvageable. the cost would be through the roof if otherwise.

so jade, hand over his heart, promises to survey ramshackle the next day and outline a list of high priority repairs to stuff they can skimp upon in the budget.

jade’s excited. the mountains he treks are northwest and ramshackle is northeast; this will provide him a new opportunity to see what kind of mushroom may lie on that side of the island. …oh, and he supposes he will also assist azul in his endeavor as well.

the next day, he spends half of the allotted time foraging outside of ramshackle before he actually walks into the building. i should make this quick and efficient. i only have thirty minutes left. notepad in hand, he starts to investigate the wreckage.

uninhabited and ugly. those are the two words that rise to jade’s mind first. truly, it is a lovely space and it would be a disgrace to see it painted in shades of lilac and oceanic decor. but, it will be entertaining nonetheless to see azul’s business expand.

yet, as he’s walking down the halls, jade cannot help but think he is hearing a second pair of footsteps just behind him.

yes, ramshackle is ugly but it does not seem to be as uninhabited as he thought. how intriguing.

so, sadistic grin blooming, jade decides to play a game. he will ignore this secondary person and continue on, waiting anxiously to see what will happen. he marks down his observations, all while feeling a pair of eyes upon his neck. lighting on the first floor needs fixing. the water runs orange in the upstairs sink. nothing entirely formidable has happen yet, but he hopes it will.

jade cannot wait to see if this ghost can turn his skin inside out, or perhaps drop a floorboard on top of his head, the possibilities are endless. it all has jade’s toes squirming in his dress shoes in anticipation.

however, his thirty minutes are up before he can descend the basement stairs and nothing has happened yet.

which is disappointing.

he’ll be back again tomorrow so there is always a chance for something then.

however, he had hoped for something to happen now.

just as jade is walking out the door, list and bag of mushrooms in hand, something ice cold tickles the hairs on his neck. frigid like home. he barely gets a chance to dwell on it before five frozen fingers wrap themselves around his throat and shove him down the porch steps.

the door to ramshackle slams shut.

sprawled on the ground, jade reaches his hand up to the idents on the column of skin, the previous touch thawing out.

he cannot help the deep blush that comes up to his face.

with a deep breath, his own gloves fingers still hovering over the lost embrace, jade stands up and pats himself down. he looks upon the closed door with a hunger in his eyes.

yes, tomorrow he will be back.

and he hopes this ghost will act up again because they have so much more allure to jade than a second mostro lounge.

#jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech #twisted wonderland #i was listening to grim grinning ghost and i think jade x ghostgirl! MC has a bit of backbone to it #MC: i have tortured possessed and done everything to try and get you to leave my house!!!#Jade: and it has been thrilling my dear #i think jade would be thrilled at being terrorized through possession as much as he would enjoy terriozing MC through poisonous gifts #think the flowers he gave the bride in the Ghost Marriage event #falling in love with a ghost? only jade can pull it off #i’m also thinking … lady k and the sick man route … where azul does finally get mostro lounge 2.0 #customer: hey what up with the ghastly moans and loud groans in this building #azul: ah it’s just the authentic halloween spirit that mostro lounge is doing to celebrate the upcoming holiday!#mc getting her back blown out upstairs in ramshackle’s bed: mmmmm aaaahh ugh faster!! oh fuuUUck harder!! mmmm aaaah AAH!!#the customer and azul just stare at one another

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kybercrystals94 · 6 months ago

Text

Six Weeks (pt. 2)

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2024 - Day 25 - Prompt: Being Monitored

Rated: T | Words: 1047

<<Previous Part || Next Part>>

A/N: I thought this would just be a two part story; however, it looks like there will be at least one more chapter ;-;

When Hunter returns home from the clinic, AZI in tow, he finds that his brothers have moved Omega to the common room. Even though he quite literally watched her grow up, it still feels jarring to see a grown woman where his small child used to be. She is entirely different and wholly the same.

“...that is the most idiotic plan I’ve ever heard,” Crosshair is saying.

Omega is laughing. “No, no, you can’t say that. You forget that I’ve heard about your stupid stunts during the war.”

“Not even all of them!” Wrecker booms.

“Thank you, Wrecker, you’ve made my point!”

AZI whirs around Hunter. “Omega! You are alive!”

Omega smiles at the little droid. “Of course, I am, AZI. Just some bumps and bruises.”

“That is not what Hunter said,” AZI tells her. “He provided me with a list of your injuries.”

“I’m sure he did,” Omega groans good naturedly.

Omega is wearing her shorts and one of Wrecker’s old shirts she’d changed into last night. The bandage Hunter applied to her thigh last night still looks clean and undisturbed at least, although in the full daylight, he can see the ugly discoloration of bruising littering her arms and legs, knicks and cuts on her face. The wounds are so reminiscent of his own and his brothers’ during the war that he glances away before he can think about it too much.

“Omega was just telling us about her TIE Fighter incident,” Crosshair says from his perch on the arm of the couch.

Omega huffs. “Yeah, and now the Empire is down a TIE Fighter and an outpost.”

“Yeah they are!” Wrecker crows, and reaches over to ruffle Omega’s already disheveled hair.

“Don’t encourage her, Wrecker,” Crosshair sighs.

“Why not? She’s fine, isn’t she? You did good, kid!”

“But we’d rather you didn’t do it again,” Hunter puts in.

“It wasn’t the original plan, I had to improvise,” Omega says. “Trust me, I never do anything reckless unless I have no other choice.”

Hunter knows it’s true, but that doesn’t make it any easier to accept, especially when the choice she made could have ended so much worse.

AZI fusses at the bandage, unwinding it to examine the injury for himself. Crosshair and Wrecker watch, but Hunter knows exactly what they’ll see.

Omega said that a piece of the ship’s console had embedded into her leg during the crash. She pulled it out and applied pressure, wrapping a piece of her undershirt around it. Another member of her unit saw the collision and went in to retrieve her. She admitted that she had passed out, lost a lot of blood, and spent several days in medical before Hera cleared her to return to Pabu to finish recovery.

How much of this Omega has told their brothers, Hunter isn’t sure.

Knowing what will be exposed the moment AZI removes the bandage does not ease the twist of awful of revulsion in his gut when he sees it. Suddenly, Omega is that little girl again, freshly rescued from Kamino, so small and helpless…and hurt. Hurt so badly that she could have bled to death had help not been right there.

His chest feels tight, the air thick and unbreathable. His siblings are talking, AZI’s mechanical voice rattling off a treatment plan. But the words are just sounds, syllables meaningless. Hunter feels like a coward when he has to turn and leave the house. He knows Omega isn’t a child anymore, that she has made her own choices, with her own risks.

But his purpose…she has been his purpose for so long. How can he just let her go, let her risk the entire life they built for her? Why does she have to be a hero? Why can’t she just be safe? With them?

“Hunter?” Omega calls after him, the lilt of her accent so familiar it hurts.

He knows he’ll be back. He’ll always come back.

But for now, at this moment, he can’t trust that his emotions will stay in check as he’s carefully arranged them all these years.

Crosshair and Wrecker will keep her safe until he returns and takes the watch.

Omega shifts, trying to turn her body to watch their brother leave. “Hunter?” she calls again.

“He needs a minute,” Crosshair says, not able to tear his own gaze from the ugly, uneven gash on his sister’s leg. It could be worse, probably was worse. But it is bad, no matter how Omega tries to downplay it.

“He saw it last night,” Omega says, “he didn’t react like that at all.”

“It’s different when you’re not the one responsible for fixing it,” Crosshair tells her.

Omega’s lips press thin and she nods. He doesn’t like that she seems to know exactly what he means. She was the one carried out of the wreckage this time, but how many times has it been her pulling a companion from the rubble? He knows she doesn’t tell them everything about her work with the Rebellion. Partially out of obligation to secrecy, and another part a misplaced obligation to protect her brothers from worrying.

As if they’d done anything else since she left Pabu.

“You will be happy to know that the wound is healing as expected,” AZI says, bringing a fresh roll of wrap from his chassis. “Please continue to keep it clean and dry.”

“You got it, boss,” Omega says with a sloppy salute.

The droid blinks at her, yellow eyes flickering. “I am not your boss. I do not know who your boss is.”

Omega laughs. “I’m teasing you, AZI.”

“Oh,” the droid says, beginning to rewrap her leg.

Wrecker, who immediately became more subdued the moment they saw the worst of Omega’s injuries, says, “That’s gonna leave a pretty nasty scar.”

“Eh, that’s okay,” Omega says, shrugging her uninjured shoulder. “All the best people I know have scars.”

“Yeah, we do!” Wrecker laughs, and Crosshair smirks at the sappy grin that stretches across his brother’s face.

Their optimistic little sister strikes again, broken in body but not of spirit. Just like the stubborn kid she was all those years ago on Tantiss, refusing to leave him behind.

Perhaps she’s been carrying companions and brothers out of rubble for a long time.

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @arctrooper69 @groguandthebadbatch @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver @baddest-batchers @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog @omegafett99 @heidnspeak @fionas-frenzy @dreamsight73 @royallykt @merkitty49 @blackseafoam @illogicaalbraindump

#whumptober2024 #no.25 #being monitored #Star Wars: the Bad Batch #fic #emotional whump #physical whump #angst #hurt/comfort #injury #Rebel Omega #Post Season 3 #TBB Hunter #TBB Crosshair #TBB Wrecker #TBB Omega

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freesia-writes · 9 months ago

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Ch 28: Party Hard and...

Master List ~~ Previous Chapter ~~ WC: 2.1k Author's Note: Time for it to hit the fan a bit. Hunter's just not having a great time. At least he's trying? Oh boy. Remember, kids, when you’re faced with a difficult situation, you can pause and respond intentionally or you can react without thinking. 😉

Couldn’t resist releasing this one early. Happy Saturday!

THIS SONG IS THE PERFECT VIBE; I'd suggest starting it halfway through (I'll mark it below): David Guetta & Bebe Rexha - I'm Good (Blue) [Official Music Video] (youtube.com)

Luci’s gigantic floppy hat nearly hit Hunter in the face for a third time as they made their way into the transport station. It was perched on the side of the island, with equal access to a small landing pad as well as docks below, providing passage by air or by sea depending on the destination. After purchasing their tickets, they wandered down the stairs to the boats, scanning the numbers to find the right one. There were only a few routes available – one to each of the nearby islands – and Plata was by far the most popular destination.

Wind ruffled his hair as the sound of engines grew louder, and Hunter looked up to see the shuttle coming in for landing. It was the same one he’d taken to Keytoll, and he squinted at it harshly as though the ship itself were to blame for all the strife he’d experienced. Something caught his eye, though, as it turned and settled onto the landing platform – a small tracking beacon stood out against the otherwise dull and dingy hull of the shuttle. The shiny little dome-shaped piece reflected the sunlight from its perch beneath one of the lateral wings, hidden to the casual onlooker. His brow furrowed, old habits kicking in as he wondered who put it there and for what reason. Hundreds of people had taken the shuttle to and from various places since he and Lyra had been on it; he was undoubtedly being paranoid to think it had something to do with them. But still…

“Time to go!” Luci’s bright voice called him back to the present as she took his arm and pulled him into motion. Her sundress fluttered in the breeze, and she entwined her fingers with his, coaxing him on with an affectionate gaze as they walked along the dock. They boarded the boat to Plata, tucked into some seats at the rear, and then they were off, skimming across the waves and leaving the weight of the world behind.

* * *

“I am not wearing that!” Hunter laughed, giddy from a delicious dinner and the bottle of liquor they continued to share as they had returned to their hotel room. “You already got your way with the hair.”

“Come onnnn,” Luci insisted, waving at him like a flag. “You’ll fit right in.”

“I don’t want to fit in with that!” he protested, taking a swipe at it but missing as she jerked it out of his reach.

“Well then you can just go naked!”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you,” he said, slurring his words a tiny bit.

“I mean, yeah!” she giggled, throwing her hands in the air in surrender. “Okay, we’ll compromise. Just wear the shirt. Keep your stupid jeans.”

“It’s not even a shirt!” he complained, shaking his head with a dumb grin on his inebriated face.

“Just put it on so we can go,” she said, exasperated. She began to tug his shirt up and over his head, biting her lip at the way his hair scattered across his face once the shirt was free of his arms. A few fingers traced across his chest and stomach, and with just a look in those emerald eyes, he was drawn in for a kiss. When she released him, she pushed the “shirt” into his hands with a mischievous smile. “Go on.”

“This is beyond ridiculous,” He muttered, pulling it on and staring at her in disbelief.

“You look sexy!”

“I can’t…”

“Ssshhhhh,” she pressed a finger to his lips, then stepped back and took another swig from the liquor bottle before handing it to him. He followed suit, set it on the counter with a loud clank, then turned to look at the tiny mirror on the back of the hotel room door.

“Son of a Hutt…”

His reflection stared back at him, almost unrecognizable. He was mercifully still wearing a plain pair of jeans, but that was where the common garb ended. Luci had pulled the top half of his hair into two slightly crooked little tufts atop his head and, once they were secured with rubber bands, had tied his bandana in its usual place below them. The “shirt” she’d insisted on looked like a fishing net. In fact, he was fairly certain it was made from a fishing net. There was a faint sense, somewhere deep inside, that he was embarrassed, or should be embarrassed… But it was quieted as Luci spun him around to face her.

“Just relax and enjoy yourself.”

Fanart by @that-salmonberry-punk

Music blared from each doorway they passed as they pushed through the crowds in downtown Plata. Much like Xylo, the island was small enough to have only one main town, but Plata was broad and flat, with tall buildings stacked neatly beside each other from end to end. It was tiny compared to Xylo, yet far more densely populated and full of art, culture, and nightlife. Luci’s outfit seemed as ridiculous as his own, and yet she strutted with full confidence. She’d opted for a pair of low-rise, baggy black pants with stripes down the sides and some kind of cropped moto jacket that hung open. Beneath that was just… underwear, as far as he could tell – a bright red bra and strappy thong that came up above the waistband of her pants that barely clung to her hips. But she’d insisted it was a proper outfit, and at that point he was a bit too tipsy to care.

She found an alleyway off the main street, pulling him into it and beaming at him from dewy, flushed cheeks. It was a warm and humid night, and the sheer number of people crammed into one area did nothing to help the claustrophobic vibe. But the temporary relief of quiet and darkness in the alley was a welcome reprieve, and Hunter exhaled, starting to run a hand through his hair before hitting the spiky little pigtails. Luci laughed, straightening them with playful little tugs, and she tickled his nipples where they poked out from his netted shirt.

“What the kriff are we doing?” Hunter muttered, eyelids rather heavy as he regarded her with rummy fondness.

“Having fun. Plain and simple,” she answered with a shrug, tugging her red top down a bit to plump up her cleavage. Hunter was overwhelmed as it were, and when she gave them an extra little jiggle, laughing at the way his eyebrows shot up, he was about ready to call it a night.

But Luci had other plans.

“I thought we might start the night off right…” she purred, biting her lip as her eyes roved from his recently-firmed abs to his broad, shapely chest. “If you’re interested…” He watched curiously as she produced a small capsule from her pocket, opening it to reveal some nondescript pills. “These are nifty little things… Basically, they bring you fully into the moment. It’s like you’re totally yourself, totally present… And you don’t remember any of it the next day.”

Hunter balked at that, jerking his chin down in scrutiny. “That sounds… scary.”

“Don’t you wish you could forget, sometimes?” she asked, somewhat profound all of a sudden. “To just press pause on all of life and enjoy each minute?”

“I mean, yeah, but not remembering…?”

“It doesn’t make you do anything crazy. I think it just releases who you are, at the core. Without inhibitions. Without all the pressures and expectations of everyone else. Just you… and me… and a night to be free.” She shrugged, taking a pill and showing him how it melted on her tongue. “You can try just one – it will just be mild… if you want.”

He watched her put another one into her mouth, feeling equally apprehensive and enticed. Out of the blue, Lyra’s face flashed across his mind, causing an immediate revolt from all his senses at once. Something inside of him felt odd, as though it were slashing through thick vines and roots to try to free itself. But it felt foreign, too… distinctly “other”. It was a tumultuous sensation, almost beyond his control, and he found that he did not like it one bit.

He took one of the pills, sniffing it out of habit before swallowing it without further question.

Luci smiled.

SONG TIME: David Guetta & Bebe Rexha - I'm Good (Blue) [Official Music Video] (youtube.com)

She pushed him until his back was flush against the wall, head spinning and heart racing. Her hands were heavy on his chest, his neck, his cheeks... She cupped his face with fervent desire, gazing affectionately into his eyes before closing her own, tilting her head, and pressing her lips to his.

Her hands began to roam again, stroking and caressing, pulling feelings and yearnings and urges from him that had been dormant for so long until she’d awakened them. An initial resistance welled up, adding to the constant confusion, but it was soon diminished beneath her passion as she kissed him again and again.

Heat flushed Hunter's body from head to toe, and he opened up to her, his fingers gripping her waist as he leaned in. A feminine, breathy sigh escaped her as the intensity grew, their faces pressed together, lips caressing and tugging. She opened her mouth more, sliding her tongue against his, and tingles coursed through his veins as he met her fervor with his own, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and losing himself to the ardor growing in his core. He didn’t notice the already-melting pills she’d moved from her mouth to his as she continued to ravish him.

She ran a hand up the back of his neck, digging it into his hair and tightening her grip, pulling back for a moment to regard him with unbridled lust. "You are so kriffing hot, you know that? Damn, the things I want to do to you..." she murmured, heavy-lidded eyes following the contour of his face as he opened his eyes to meet hers, smoldering with intensity.

A small smile curved her cheeks, and she bit her lip before leaning in again. He was reeling from the sheer overwhelm of it all -- her scent, her breath, her body, her sensuality, her uncomplicated want for him. This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? Freedom from responsibility, freedom to pursue a future of his own, freedom to release the burden of every possible consequence and to simply enjoy life on life's terms...

Her hand slipped beneath his shirt, his muscles tensing against her touch and fanning the flame where her fingernails gently raked up toward his chest. Soft lips trailed to his jawbone, below his ear, down the side of his neck, setting him on fire inside and out. Hunter tilted his head away, feeling her consuming desire spreading through his own chest. He felt as though he were spinning in place; every taste, scent, touch, and sound was amplified and improved.

This was what he had wanted. This was the right choice.

Wasn't it?

* * *

Fanart by @clownbloody

Stairs, so many stairs. Luci’s voluptuous curves moving ahead of him in serpentine mystery. Loud music and flashing lights. The rhythm thumping inside his chest. Bodies jostling against one another, loose and free. Weaving through the crowd, laughter and liquor and sweat and salt all blending into the beat.

Deep green eyes finding his. Gentle arms around his neck. Her hips in his hands. Her breath and pulse melding into his. The music was what moved him; he was just a willing participant. Everyone was together and yet separate. Blending in seamless surrender to hedonistic folly.

He chased Luci along a side street, stumbling as people leapt out of the way. The cold night air burned his lungs, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his body until he plunged into water beside her. They floated on their backs in a large fountain, surrounded by music and laughter. Lights flashed from a nearby rooftop party, and the next thing he knew, they found themselves there.

A sparkling disco ball scattered beams of light across the area, refracting every color into splintered shards of rainbow on people’s faces, drinks, chests, and backs. A tall Twi’lek with a metallic gold dress slithered up behind Hunter as Luci was grinding against his front, his hands on her hips as his head tilted back, and the strong green body pressed against his back, swaying in perfect time. Luci glanced back, laughing in delirious joy, and reached her arms over her head, red curls scattering everywhere as she lost herself in the music.

He pressed her against the wall in the hallway, jostled by people making their way to and from the refreshers. Her lips were hot and heavy on his neck, hands pulling his waist ever closer, until she paused for a moment, pulling back to regard him with a suddenly serious expression. Tears in her eyes, a frown on her lips. He bent his head down, touching the side of his face to hers, and she whispered in his ear.

“Sometimes it all just feels so empty.”

And then she was on him again, coaxing sensations that threatened to overtake him.

Small red lamps glowed on each table in the center of each booth in the dimly-lit room. It was a temporary reprieve from the jam-packed chaos of the streets and clubs, and the food tasted like nothing he’d ever had before. The textures of each bite came alive in his mouth, flavors combining effortlessly – sweet and spicy, savory and tart… Luci climbed into his lap, banging the table as she straddled him. She held up a piece of cheesy bread in her fingers, inviting him to eat it from her hand, which he immediately did. With a giggle, she buried her hands in his hair, tugging it free from the pigtails, and bent over him to bring her mouth to his.

The rest of the night was a blur.