#and they both were receptive to those feelings? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daylighted · 3 months ago

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dean winchester x angel!reader — kissing lessons.

or, the defenses are down, the blockades shattered, and you dont know how to kiss. or, let dean help you.

cw, 18+, MDNI! dean talks you through it for real this time. backseat sex LOL. fluffy smut? lowkey subby dean hehehe. no protection yell @ them not me.

word count: 5.6k

notes, dean gets to be his full freak self here hehehe. everyone say ur welcome since i've been being HOUNDED SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIMEMEEEEMEEEE TO POST THIS. unfortunately for all of u this is the planned conclusion to their tale </3 don't crucify me. u legally can't since i'm giving u this.

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things were... a little awkward, after you saved dean's life with a kiss. like passion drove you over the edge, a desperate need to save him and to do it any way possible, that was the only time that you managed to kiss him right.

and he didn't — well, he kind of judged you for it. just little laughs, when you'd lean in to try and kiss him and end up flushing and sinking backwards. it was cute. sure, it did mean he wasn't getting any action anytime soon, and every bedtime kiss you promised him ended up becoming a bedtime smack for him laughing at your struggle, but hey, you guys just had a different dynamic.

he still thought you were the prettiest thing to ever grace earth. just because you didn't know how to kiss properly didn't mean he was going to suddenly stop being interested. it just opened doors to getting to teach you.

sam stayed back at the motel while dean volunteered to go on a drink run. it was one of those nights; a roundabout case that the both of them knew was going to keep them up looking for the slightest detail in the research that could alter their investigation for the better. sam needed a beer, dean wanted a beer, and you wanted whiskey.

literally. girl of his dreams, he'd thought. still thinks.

plus, you love car rides. dean had not let you back behind the wheel since the last time, and you didn't seem to want to try again either, more than content to sit and look pretty in the seat next to him.

the nearest liquor tour in whatever small town you guys were camping out in for the night was a good few miles away, and so he got to play all of his cards in one fell swoop. hand on your thigh, fingers trailing up the seams of your jeans, tracing with his nail on the inside of your palm.

you were squirming. he loved when you squirmed.

his fingers are just at the inside of your thigh, long enough to have gently walked their way over like they owned the place ( he did, you didn't know it yet ) and rest easily. that is the moment you speak up, those narrowed eyes locked on his in a glare.

"stop that."

dean's eyebrows flick up. he spares a single glance toward you, the picture of innocence written into the marrow of his sinful bones. "stop what?"

"you're touching me."

he hums to himself for a moment, eyes turned toward the stoplight he'd rolled up to. "could be touching you more."

"no."

dean huffs out a laugh. "are you scared of my hands, dove?" even as he says it, his hand moves again, to the safety of your thigh. "you know they'd never hurt you."

your eyes roll furiously. you grab his wrist and practically throw his hand onto the gearstick. "your hands are not sentient beings and cannot make that choice for you."

dean's gotten really receptive to you, over these past few weeks. what your expressions meant in the rare times that you didn't voice your confusion, what your body language said, and so now he's confident that he knows what you're feeling right now. your hands are clenched tightly in your lap, purposely not touching him, fisted so tightly that they shake a little. your eyes are facing forward without budging, even though he knows that his gaze is burning into the side of your face.

the stoplight illuminates your face in a green glow. "it's a green light," you say without turning to look at him, and that pretty much confirms it for dean. you're afraid. afraid, embarrassed, and not wanting to tell him any of it. "so go."

dean's jaw clenches as he restrains a frown behind the cage of his teeth. the absolute last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you had to hide away from him, keeping every one of those thoughts locked away in your inexperienced, curious head.

the car rolls into drive again, passing the parking lot for the liquor store. he sees it out of the corner of his eye; the way your head cocks to the side, your lip between your teeth while you try to figure out what he was doing. you could ask. he wanted you to ask. whatever was eating at you was keeping all of his pretty girl's first thoughts from him.

he pulls off on the side of the road and cuts the engine, leaving the both of you in darkness except for the moonlight pouring in through the windshield.

dean nods toward the backseat. "hop on back there, sweet girl," he says with a sigh, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding out of the driver's seat. you don't move. he props himself in the doorway with an unmoved expression. "c'mon. it's late. don't wanna have to tell you twice."

the way your face twists up in annoyance is exactly what he wanted to see. good. anything but that weariness that had marred your features. he slips into the backseat, shuts the door behind him, before your door opens.

seconds later, you're dropping into the seat next to dean. he turns on the leather to face you better, his hand coming up to brush the hair out of your face. "you know you can talk to me, right? i act like an ass all the time, i know, but you don't have to lock yourself away."

your face goes pink at his words. that angry twitch of your nose makes an appearance, and it's all dean can do not to break into a wider grin. knowing that something so delicate could also be so wicked was an enticing thought all in itself.

"it's embarrassing."

"so what?" his lips twist as his shoulders raise in a shrug. "who's gonna judge you? me? be serious, dove."

your nose twitches again, mouth in a tight scowl. "you would definitely judge me."

"that's how i know you're feelin' all insecure up there," dean says, tapping your temple with his finger, "because you know that's not true. i know that's not true."

you growl, actually growl, and dean wants nothing more than to grab you by the hand and tug your mouth onto his. even if you don't kiss him back, he wants to kiss you. your furious frustration was a common occurrence around him, but that didn't mean it got any less attractive.

"when you touch me," you grit out through your clenched teeth, your hands fisted in your lap like you might hit him. hell, he'd have taken the punch right then, if it kept you talking. "i feel things."

dean blinks twice in quick succession. "and?" you do hit him square in the shoulder. your hands carry much more of a punch than he could have predicted. he lets out a little oof, his lips pursing with his lack of amusement. "it's a serious question!"

"i can't say." you look adamant, your frustration so pretty on your features, and dean's a bit dazed. "it's embarrassing," you repeat, and dean gets it. or, he thinks he does.

one corner of his mouth quirks again, his cheek dimpling. the hand on your face falls to your thighs again, fingers lightly dancing on the inner seam of your jeans. "here?"

your hand raises to punch him again, and he knows he's right; catches it just in time before you can bruise that spot on his shoulder. "well, i can't leave you feelin' all hot and bothered, can i?"

"i am not hot," you scoff out almost in disgust at the suggestion, and dean does laugh, then. you were so hot it was ridiculous, but alright. "but i am very bothered."

"lucky for you," dean murmurs, his hand releasing your wrist and moving to your jaw, turning your head to look at him again, "i am very good at handlin' bothered girls." he leans in, brushes his lips against yours. "angels, i should say."

dean can feel you retreating already at the slight touch of his lips, but now he knows that it's not because you don't want to kiss him, or don't want what he's offering. you're afraid of it like the feelings will bite you, nervous to feel the full extent of it. his fingers hold your jaw more firmly.

"now, i'm not gonna ask," he says, driven further by the soft sound of your breath catching, "since you're feeling a little trigger happy right now... but i think it's time my little dove has herself some kissing lessons."

to his surprise, you don't hit him again. you just stare into his eyes with such earnest honesty that it's his turn to lose his breath. you trusted him so much. he wanted to show you just how much it meant to him; let you watch as he cradled your heart in his hands.

the distance closes in a second between your mouths, the brush of his slow and languid against yours, judging your reactions. your kiss is hesitant, and then suddenly you're pressing further into him, the force of it almost bruising when you don't move your lips. he pulls back enough to look into your eyes.

dean's finger comes up to pinch your lips closed, smiling softly as he does. "don't have to try n' bite my face off, honey, i promise," he chides without any malice in his words, taking advantage of the gentle grasp he had on your lips to lean in again. he kisses you slowly again, deliberate in the way his mouth moves, so you could figure it out.

your fingers uncurl in your lap and move to his shirt, twisting the soft cotton lightly. that's when he releases your lips, his hand shifting to cup your cheek in his palm. dean's thumb traces reassuringly on your cheekbone.

when your mouth opens this time, it's less like you're trying to sink your teeth into him and more like an invitation. dean knew you were a quick learner; had from the moment he'd let you behind baby's wheel. seeing it action like this, with your hands in his shirt and your tongue swiping across his, was on another level.

his free hand reaches for your hands one at a time, his touch on your wrist light as he lifts your fingers to his hair. he has to force his mouth away from yours, has to pull away from the taste of your tongue. "i know how much you wanna yank my hair out," dean teases, letting go of your hand to let you take over, "so go ahead n' pull, baby."

you look between his eyes again with that same open look, and he's sure he's melting right there into the leather backseat. "really?"

dean laughs. "yeah, really." he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. "matter of fact, touch anywhere you want, baby. this is all for you. so y'can get outta that head of yours."

something flashes in your eyes at that. he doesn't know what it was - the offer or the idea - that caught your attention, but he's intrigued, too. one of your hand drops from his hair to his shirt again, this time at the waist of it.

he's a little dazed, admittedly, as you untuck it from being bunched up in the waist of his jeans. it's intense to have your eyes on him while you pull his shirt up until it catches on his extended arms.

"took the first chance y'could to get me naked, huh?" dean asks, even as his voice comes out more strained than it'd been before, his jeans suddenly feeling just as tight.

you use your elbow to nudge his arms up, and he raises his hands in defense at your sudden act of authority before he lifts them. then, you've got his shirt off, tossing it behind your back. "shut up."

"there's my girl," he murmurs, hooking his finger in your belt loop and tugging you closer. maybe he was moving too fast. maybe he knew you'd adapt quickly.

and you do. he never doubted you for a second. your hand rests on his cheek, guiding him back into a kiss, more confidently than any of your kisses had been so far. your fingers tangle in his hair, and dean has to physically bite back on the groan in his throat.

he takes advantage of his hold on your jeans to start unfastening them. you're so good for him, a perfect match, because you don't even know what you're doing but your hips are lifting so he can start pulling them down.

dean breaks the kiss with a pop of your mouths, and the growl you let out goes straight to the hardening cock trapped in his jeans. he doesn't want to move so fast, but you've always been a little cruel like this, tempting him in ways that he should have been stronger to resist. there was no resistance now.

he hooks his arm under your legs to turn you in the seat, draping them across his lap. he unties your boots for you, pulling them off and setting them on the floor of the backseat. then, he's grabbing the bunched denim on your thighs and tugging until they're off. dean has more care with your clothes than you did with his. he'd always treat everything about you as gently as glass, setting them on the middle console between the front seats.

you look at him for a second, like you're trying to gauge the situation you've both found yourselves in. pulled over on the side of the road like teenagers that couldn't wait, stripping each other naked in the backseat. it'd be laughable if you didn't look so vulnerable. for the second time that night, dean realized how big the trust you had in him was, and he didn't want to do a thing to mess it up.

"lemme get this off of you, yeah?" he asks, his hands moving to the bottom of your shirt. he meets your gaze for confirmation; gets a single nod. "it means a lot, y'know," he continues on, trying to keep you out of the black hole that was your worries, as he pulls your shirt up and over your head, "that you're trusting me with this. all of it."

"don't start," you whine, your hands moving to your eyes, covering your face. dean grabs your wrists and pulls them apart, moving your arms out of the way so he could properly see you. "hey!"

dean's lips pull into a small smile. "hi."

"this is a lot," you say, and his smile softens considerably, "i don't know what to do now."

dean lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "whatever you wanna do. this is all you, baby, i'm just here to provide." he rests his large palm on your kneecap, the pad of his thumb rubbing soothingly against your skin. "we can stop. you can kiss me again, or punch me again, if that's what you want. we can get dressed again, get what we actually came for..."

"no." you blink a few times before you shake your head. "i don't want to stop, i..."

dean's not a patient man. he's used to time limits and counting his days. but in this backseat with you, he's certain time has stopped just for the both of you. he feels the world at his disposal, like every bit of time existed like pieces of sand in his palms.

when you realize he is, for once, not going to interrupt you, and not try and put thoughts in place of your feelings, you huff. "i do not know what to do from here."

dean grabs for one of your discarded hands, holding your fingers in his lap. "do you want us to be on equal ground?" he asks, nodding down at himself. you were in nothing but undergarments; he still had his jeans on. "and then we can figure it out from there?"

your smile is beautiful in its hesitance. "okay."

"okay like you want my pants off, or okay like you'd just feel better if we were both freezin' our asses off back here?" dean teases, even as he shifts a little in the cramped space to start taking off his jeans.

your huff is practically a wordless grumble in itself. "why do you want me to spell things out?"

"i want you comfortable, dove," he says, the waistband of his jeans paused at his thighs, "there's no pressure here at all. if there's pressure, then it's not fun anymore."

you think on it for a second. dean watches your expression shift with your feelings and acceptance. "you may continue."

"oh, mama's bossy now, is she?"

you grab a handful of the leg of his jeans and yank. "shut up."

"yes, ma'am."

you wad up his discarded jeans and toss them at him in a ball of denim. "shut up."

"you're so pretty when you're mad, honey," dean mumbles, using his grip on your hand to tug you forward. you stumble a little in the small space, falling into his lap. "come n' make me shut up."

your eyes are narrowed on him as you shift to make yourself comfortable. your leg tosses over his thighs, settling into his lap. his breath hitches in his throat at the feel of your heat through both of the thin undergarments on you, and from the look in your eyes, the evidence of his own arousal has made itself prominent against you, too.

you look like you might say something. you don't. your hands grab him by his face and drag him in for another kiss. he actually chokes on a noise in his throat at the suddenness, and he thinks he might love you. knows he does, but has never felt the intensity of it quite like this before.

dean's mouth opens to let you in, craving the taste of you again. your tongue meets his instantly, lapping against each other's in a languid slow dance. he's content like this. he could stop here, and go back to the motel with or without the alcohol and use this memory here of your tongue in his mouth while you sat all pretty in his lap to get himself off, and be perfectly fine.

but if there was one thing that you were full of, it was surprises. his little whiskey drinking, praise adoring, bossy angel. your fingers fall between the both of your bodies and rest on his hard on through his boxers, and dean looses a shuddering breath.

you pull away from his mouth with his saliva on your lips. dean's head falls back onto the headrest of the backseat with a groan. "you told me i could touch," you say, your innocent voice so out of place with your devilish hands.

"i did," dean says, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone. "didn't expect you to go for the gold immediately, though."

your answering smile is the prettiest thing he's ever seen. the moon sits high in the sky outside of the window, glowing and whitecast down onto you.

a halo of your own making.

dean thinks he's going to die.

you raise your hips off of him for the time being, your light touch teasing and electric at once. dean grasps that hand and lifts it to his mouth, kissing each of your fingertips. "here," he says quietly, his other hand going to your waist. he traces over your ribcage lightly before he closes his fingers over your side.

he pulls you closer, lets you grind against the swell in his boxers. he groans, your breath hitches with a little whine, and he's sure, then, that he'll die like this.

"you like that?" dean asks you, dipping his head to get a better look at your eyes. you look dazed, a little drunk, and dean wants to see those pretty eyes glimmer and glisten.

he lifts you up again by your thigh, just enough to slide his boxers off of him as gently as he can. the space is cramped, and it's finally starting to feel like it.

dean's done this plenty of times, but there's something about your gaze that makes him feel more vulnerable than he ever has before. he's naked underneath you; you, who has never done anything like this before, and he feels more exposed than you seem to.

it's like a game, now. when he does something, you do it, like you don't want to fall behind in this back and forth. your hips stay up, and it's more awkward for you to tug your panties off, but you manage it with a few lifts of your legs, and a kick that sends them, somehow, into the driver's seat.

you laugh. it's breathtaking.

dean helps you settle back on his thighs, and it's all he can do to not fall apart there. you're warm, you're wet enough that he feels it on his legs, and all he wants to do is make you feel even better than you do now.

"green light?" dean asks, lifting his eyes to look at you again, and not at all of the skin bared to him. he doesn't want to overwhelm you with how intense he must be staring at you, but you're mesmerizing. perfection in the form of a wingless angel sat on his lap.

you blink a couple of times before the realization settles in. "go?"

"i'm askin' you, dove," he says in answer, hand going to the back of your neck to pull you closer, to press a kiss to your forehead. "red light or green light?"

your face is so close to his, but dean can see the melted expression in your eyes. instead of answering, you press a kiss to his mouth again. he's glad you like it, now that you know how to do it. he could handle kissing you over and over, but your lips kissing him back is something he was already getting addicted to.

on his mouth, you whisper, "green light."

dean blinks, now. his teeth drag your bottom lip back lightly until it pops back into place. "yeah?"

at your nod, he sits up a little better, his arms snaking around your waist. once he's got a good grip on you, he moves the both of you so that he's sprawled beneath you in the backseat, fully extended. he doesn't fit, his legs bent a little as his back presses into the door, but it's fine. everything is fine when he has you. plus, his bent knees only draws you closer to him.

"i promise this is the last time i'm gonna do this to you," he says with a teasing lilt to his voice, lifting you off of his thighs again. "just say red light if it's too much, okay?"

"okay."

it's more gentle than he's ever been, the way he spreads your legs open a little more, the way he lines the aching length of his cock up with your waiting entrance. just the brush of the tip against the wetness of your folds could make him crumble.

dean pushes up enough to just barely rest inside of you, giving you the moment to adjust. your gasp is small, breathless. he stops instantly, his hand on your thigh loosening its grip. your face twists into a frown. "i didn't say red light," you grumble through the pout, and he's always been a sucker for that little pout, as much as he is for when you sink your teeth into the puffy lip.

his laugh is warm, free hand raising in surrender again. "sorry, baby, jus' lookin' out for you."

you start to sink down further on him yourself with nothing but his hand in guidance. your eyes are wide, your lips parted in a soundless 'o', but you don't tell him to stop, and he trusts you enough to know that you would, if you needed it. he couldn't helicopter monitor you just because he was afraid of breaking the pretty thing he'd grown so attached to.

it's a tight fit, being inside of you. he can feel every bit of your walls expanding to fit him, and he tries not to groan, tries to not get too ahead of himself, but goddamn. months of fantasizing about this, of denying himself those same fantasies out of fear of ruining the trust you were building between each other, comes nowhere near the reality of how it feels to have you in his arms.

your head drops to press against his, and dean's unable to resist the way he leans up to peck a kiss to your mouth. a quick one, light and easy, that you take as a sign to deepen. your teeth scrape his lip, your tongue explores the expanse of his mouth, and dean takes this distraction from the discomfort he knew you were feeling to push the rest of the way inside of you.

you whine on his lips, and he kisses away the little noises. "i know," dean mumbles on your mouth, "it's okay."

the red light is unspoken, but he's not about to push you, or overstep anyways. you trace shapes with your fingertips on his bare chest, worrying at your bottom lip with your teeth.

"green light," you say after a few moments, and a few more soft kisses from him in the crook of your shoulder.

dean nods, leaving a last lingering kiss on your collarbone before he shifts enough to properly start to move inside of you. the thrusts are shallow and gentle, letting you get a feel for it, letting you adjust to his size.

your forehead drops to rest on his shoulder, each little whimper twisting at his heart, even if the sounds of them were beginning to get louder and less strained.

"feelin' better?" he asks, all of the strain from your voice stolen and bottled up in his. the way that you squeeze around him has all of his rational thought fogging, and it takes a conscious effort to be gentle with you. this wasn't about dean; it was about you.

you nod once, your hair tickling at his chest. he's about to keep up the slow pace, to keep going as gently as possible, until you sit up a little straighter and start to meet each of his thrusts with a grind of your hips. dean's head knocks against the passenger window, his breath leaving his mouth in a shudder.

you must like it, too, because you let out a breathless laugh. you grab his hands and hold his fingers between yours, letting them fall to rest on his stomach. it's that game again; you doing something to keep up with what he's doing.

dean grins as he watches you, the tight expression on your face melding into something a little more wild and free. he's never seen you like this. he'd take a picture if he wasn't absolutely certain that you and him were gonna do this again.

again, he moves your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles this time, his groan reverberating through your fingers. you match him so easily, like you were made for whatever he gave to you. your increasing confidence makes him feel comfortable enough to speed up, his other arm braced on the back of the seats for stability as he rolls his hips deeper into you.

your head tips backwards with the first real moan he's ever heard out of you. your reckless abandon is utterly disarming. he sits up straighter, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist, holding you pressed against him as he buries himself inside of you.

your hands tremble as they lock onto his face, holding it to be nose to nose with him. you're panting on his mouth, and he can't stop staring at your lips, and he's so deep inside of you that he can feel the tip against your cervix, deep enough to make a rough groan slip out of his throat.

there was no need for kissing lessons. you would have figured it out on your own, dean's sure of it, with how you tilt his head back to suck his top lip between yours, tongue languid against his.

it's embarrassing how close he is to coming already. how couldn't he? he was enamored, transfixed, and getting this little taste of you was intoxicating. your fingers move from his cheeks to his jaw, clawing at his lip, tugging the bottom one down as you ride him.

he lets you. he'd let you do anything.

dean's thumb finds it's way between your legs, slipping between your slick folds to rub gentle circles into your clit. your thighs clench around his, grinding your hips down further onto his, against his hand.

his head tilts up to capture your mouth again, wanting to taste each moan that you let out, to swallow your pleasure and keep it to himself, where no one else can ever see it. each of those shuddering moans gets louder, more frantic, and he knows you're close.

"dean," you whisper into his mouth, and dean wants to hear his name said like this every time from you, now. breathless, desperate, and as needy as he felt.

he thumbs more deliberately at the swollen nub, pressing a final kiss to your mouth before he works little hot kisses down your jaw, your neck. "dean, i--"

"it's okay," his voice is as rough as gravel. "that's how it's supposed to feel." he knows your head like his own, knows from the frenzied breath into his shoulder that you're going to come, and that it must be a little much, trying to live through those feelings and try to figure them out. "it's supposed to, okay? jus' let go, i've got you."

dean would always have you. he loved you too much to let go.

that thought is what breaks his resolve. his thrusts become more sloppy, harder than he should probably be with you, but he loves you, and it's ruining him to not show it, or tell you. the car is thick with hot air, the windows are foggy, his skin is sticking to the leather seats, but he loves you.

you come apart on top of him with the moonlight still bathing you in a halo's glow. your hips still, your fingers claw at his face, scratching red marks into his stubble, and you cry out a moan against his lips.

he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. his hips stutter to a stop inside of you, a gasping groan punctuating his pants into the column of your throat, his cock twitching inside of you as his cum fills you. he'd worry about that later. or maybe he wouldn't. he didn't care about anything in the world besides how much he loves you.

dean doesn't realize he's whispering it out loud until he registers that pretty laugh of yours.

your hair is stuck to your forehead, your skin glassy with sweat in the pale moonlight, and the halo of the moon still hangs above your head. you're the most divine thing he's ever seen, the closest to divinity he's ever let himself be.

"you love me?" you ask, your eyes so sweet and so warm as they watch him.

dean leans up to kiss each corner of your mouth. "where'd you get that impression?"

he can never tell when you'll be matter-of-fact or when you'll play around. he forgets sometimes all of the things he's taught you, every bad idea you've got wedged in your mind because of his influence. dean winchester never wanted to corrupt you or your innocence, but he knew he'd always end up pulling you into the dark with him. you were stuck together, after all, now that he'd embedded himself to you for saving his life.

"i had a hunch." your head tilts up pridefully, chin jutted out. the act is cute while it lasts but falls apart instantly when you start to laugh again. dean's never heard you laugh so much since you'd met. how'd he get so lucky?

the car ride back to the motel is peaceful, the frigid air conditioning blasting to try and clear the fog from the windows and cool the sweat on your skin. the entire time, dean's hand is on your thigh, and the entire time, you don't move it. the moon follows his angel out the window the entire drive, like it knows, too, that you were as divine as beings could be.

sam calls two miles from the motel. "everything okay?" he asks, genuine concern in his voice. "it's been at least an hour. i didn't think you could get lost on a beer trip in this town."

beer. liquor store. alcohol run. it all comes back to dean now that his head is a little more clear.

"oh," is all dean can say for a few seconds, gaze flickering over to you in the passenger seat. you pick at the threads on his jacket he'd given to you, head downturned to unsuccessfully hide your laugh, "got sidetracked. we'll be back in twenty or so."

it was sam's turn to be silent. his following laugh is more like a scoff than anything else. "jesus christ, dean."

"blame dove," dean cackles into the speaker, eyes fond as he glances over at you again. he makes a (definitely illegal) u-turn at the same stoplight that acted as the tipping point for the night's event back in the direction of the liquor store. "she's the one who needed taught how to kiss."

tags, @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4jackles @deanswidow @deansbite @whisperingwillowxox @bombarda-babe @whyyouegg @loverslantern @bitchykittenconnoisseur @jensenacklesantidote @keira-kaz2y5 @sthefferrete @depressionbarbie2023 @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @bleuatlas @minettacreekk @moonstruksandco @moodyquesadilla @severe-mental-illness @cevansbaby-dove @deansbeer @bluestrd @mccartneyqp @im-bili @chevroletdean @angelblqde @lyarr24 @psyches-reid @momoewn @globetrotter28 @starzify @jackleslvr @ryngzmn @aileenunfiltered @beausling @frosttbitessam @amberlthomas

#dahlia's ☆ journal #dean winchester x angel!reader #angel!reader #jensen ackles #jensen fucking ackles #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester smut #spn #supernatural #supernatural one shot #spn one shot

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lovegasmic · 4 months ago

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──── . THE ONE WHO FELL FIRST, AND THE ONE WHO FELL HARDER ; SUKUNA × F!READER.

꒰ request : Sukuna is a popular businessman, nice to everyone but you, thinking you managed to plot everything to marry him. the wrong accusations only cause him to have conflicted emotions and unable to admit he's falling for you ꒱.

𝜗𝜚 modern au ◞ angst to fluff / slow burn◞ forced marriage◞ reader is a business student and also comes from a slightly rich family◞ req from around august im so sorry ◞ 3K WORDS BABEY ★ taglist

wasting precious time in such a banal thing like your feelings, was something Sukuna was not willing to do.

time was money, and he knew you liked the latter, or else why would you even consider marrying him?

the deal was not yours or Sukuna’s idea, of course it had to be a dumb old man with equal old beliefs like “a man your age must be already married and stable” bullshit, Sukuna had enough wealth and health to be worrying about not finding a wife or getting onto procreating an heir.

but for the pink haired man, his investors were more important than his own family, so, he agreed.

and of course, one of them happened to be your own father.

the man was not stupid, with that hand rubbing and gruff voice while luring Sukuna into considering a marriage that would benefit both parties, almost like a leach attached to the pink haired by the hip until he gave in.

Sukuna knew you, of course he did, the pretty girl who tried to mingle in those boring business parties that were nothing but a place to brag about each one of their successful companies.

and you always were there, listening, almost as if testing who could be a suiting partner, the richest the better.

for him, you were just another money grubber on the list, truly a pretty girl like you must have thousands of suitors knocking on your door, yet you subtly but excitedly agreed on the deal, eyes almost shinning as if you were already imagining Sukuna’s millions in the bank

he scoffs at the thought, his idiotic self had to fall, didn’t he? right into the trap.

the champagne is a tad bitter due to the circumstances, the golden beverage that usually slid down his throat quite smoothly was now dry, leaving a gross aftertaste, perhaps the champagne was not the issue, but this whole fucked up lie.

hands clasped and congratulations were given, each one welcomed by a polite and quite charming smile from Sukuna, as if he was genuinely happy, although you knew otherwise.

the man was so kind, a bit stuck up like most businessmen, but that did not stop him from chit chatting with friends and other people in the business, asking about their families and such, to which you observed with a smile, genuinely happy to be found in a marriage with at least a decent man.

but when his attention turned to you, he was a whole new person, that smile fading and sticking to a stone cold mask that always stuck when speaking to you, solely to you.

“Sukuna—” you try, shoes clicking on the luxury wooden floor of his mansion, where you now resided as well, there was no honeymoon as you, —naively, expected, almost bouncing on your spot as the limousine drove away from the wedding reception, perhaps the cute lingerie set you got underneath will be useful.

but no, how your heart crushed upon the sight of the mansion, nor a helicopter or private jet to take you to some sort of fancy and private spot. instead, all you got was silent as Sukuna climbed off the car, already loosening his tie as soon as the butler opened the door, your hurried steps behind and the limo’s trunk filled with your belongings.

“let the butler show you your room” is what he interrupts with, the suit jacket tossed onto a nearby couch which a maid was quick to fold, almost making your face burn in embarrassment at your husband’s dismissal in front of other people.

you stop for a second, blinking confused before following him still, “my room? what do you mean with my room? aren’t we sleeping in the same bedroom?”

how naive, and Sukuna’s scoff followed by a cruel laugh is just adding onto your embarrassment, “i don’t believe so, sweetheart” that last word sounds so cruel right now, “you already got the fame and money you wanted, i’m not going to indulge your spoiled princess whims”

the door slams shut and you freeze, unsure about what just happened.

the first night was unnecessarily cold, the lingerie forgotten in an empty drawer and the luggage you brought from home all stacked up in a corner of the wide room, everything lacked of color, of life, there was no wall decors, white sheets and comforters, beige curtains against boring beige walls, and of course, the warmth of the man you have longed for so long was missing.

deciding to blame the wedding nerves on Sukuna’s foul mood from the day before, making the bed and opening the curtains to allow the gentle breeze in from a barely open window that had a perfect view to the perfect backyard garden and pool.

the day was beautiful, and so you joined the chef to chat a little meanwhile Sukuna came downstairs with a serious expression like the day before, “good morning” is all he says before sitting down on the dining table, not sparing you another glance or waiting for you to sit as well as he already began on his breakfast.

“good morning, did you sleep well?” you try, again, and fail, again, since Sukuna doesn’t even reply, wiping his lips with a smooth movement that your eyes longer on, “the room you gave me is quite nice” your brain begs you to stop talking, “i just thought it’s a bit too dull, don’t you agree?”

“...”

“maybe we can buy some decorations, or if you’re too busy I can do it on my own!”

“you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

you blink, once, twice, “excuse me?”

“nothing” he stands up, the chair dragging on the ground and a napkin left on the emoji plate, “i have business to attend to, don’t bother me” with a thank you to the chef, Sukuna leaves again towards what you think must be his home office.

what you don’t know is the fact that Sukuna double checks all of his credit cards to be in place, muttering a “that damn gold digger woman”

life with Sukuna was not going to be as quiet and calm as you thought, almost two days later after your first night at your new home, Sukuna brought in the news of some charity ball you ‘had’ to attend to, of course, a place to show around how your marriage was perfectly fine, how he was stable like those dumb old men said, but at least, the appearance of a married man will definitely be successful for future partnerships.

with a mental slap, the pink haired man turned on his spot as soon as you walked down the stairs, looking ethereal with the dress he got you under the threat of “not wanting you to embarrass him” a longer look and he would have probably said something nice, and you did not deserve it.

“let’s go” he says gruff, not even opening the Benz door for you to climb in, but you did not mind, you were not really expecting anything from him anymore.

“you look good” is what you say instead, and his hands clench a little around the wheel, keeping his eyes ahead without a response.

for a second you wondered if Sukuna had some sort of double personality, he was cold and serious to you, but as soon as you stepped into the gala, his hand tightened on your waist, and a kind and even soft smile plastered on his face while greeting the other guests.

your parents were there, and your husband simply rolled his eyes at the sight of your father sporting a self praising smile at the sight of your fancy attire and multiple diamond jewels decorating your neck, wrist and fingers.

unable to deny how well you behaved yourself, and so as the hours passed, his thumb unconsciously began to rub up and down on your waist, chatting with a casual and soft look that made your heart skip a beat. this was the man you fell in love with.

a little too good to be truth, since as soon as you got back home, the usual stoic Sukuna came back, “perhaps you’re not as useless as I thought”

that should not have hurt as much as it did, you were already used to Sukuna’s dismissals, to his mean comments about wanting to suck his money like some sort of leech, about how you should stick to your own business and stop pestering him, but that really hurt.

so this time, it’s you who turns and leaves.

a little shaky sigh leaves his lips, splashing cold water onto his face to ease the strange thoughts inside his head, was he too mean? that can’t be, you deserve it, you were nothing but a gold digger, a walking… temptation.

“fuck…” he grips the bathroom sink until his knuckles turn white, the previous night kept repeating on his head, over and over again, the look on your eyes, his harsh words and the way you left without a word, why did his heart was thumping so hard?

with another curse he leaves his room, grumbling and sliding his fingers through his hair to comb it back, just to stand frozen on his spot at the sight of you all dressed and holding a bag on your shoulder, “where are you going?” the words leave before he can stop them.

the look on your eyes is a bit duller than usual and that hurts bad, “to school” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing.

“what—”

“i’m running late, we’ll talk later” and you leave just like that, leaving Sukuna with a frown and a look of disbelief that pushes the previous guilt to the back of his head.

“this damn brat”

although it was barely a week after your wedding, the whole attention his employees have you was, overwhelming, with big smiles and attentions showered as soon as you stepped into the fancy building, swinging your bag over your shoulder as a lovely, and way too cheerful, —probably fake, woman guided you to the elevator, explaining which floor to take to meet your husband.

you scoff inwardly, you’ve been to this building multiple times in the past, although just as a shadow, as a nobody, now that the boss was your husband everything was awfully over the top.

“sit, and explain” straight to the point, how kind was your husband.

with a sigh and a click of the door you sit on the chair opposite to his desk, “i told you I was going to school”

“what does that even fucking mean? are you a teacher? student? I truly hope you don’t mean highschool or i’m sending you to jail”

“what the…, no, of course not, I mean university, ugh”

“that’s better” his shoulders relax back but his eyes are still narrowed and hands in front of him, it was a bit funny, “explain”

“you really don’t know anything, do you?” you lean back and hum, “i’m at two semesters from getting my business degree”

“why haven’t you told me?”

“you never asked” you swear Sukuna’s eye twitches slightly.

“from now on I don’t want you to keep secrets from me, you’re my wife, I must know”

“oh, so i’m your wife now?”

another twitch, “you are my wife, whether we like it or not”

whether we like it or not. those words kept replaying, you liked it, or at least that is what you thought before.

your younger self would have been giggling and kicking her feet at the sole thought of marrying Sukuna, the man you admired and observed from afar when you were still a bit too young to approach him, barely out of highschool and your inner self longed for the man, saving his pictures on your phone and setting it as screensaver.

how ridiculous, you now thought, closing the first magazine you bought and sliding it under your pillow, the one that, of course, had Sukuna on the cover, and the one that inspired you to follow his path and get into business school.

fairy tales were now ridiculous, what you thought could be a perfect life with the man of your dreams turned into morning and goodnight greetings alongside some forced chats and questions about whereabouts.

but instead of sulking, you did what was best, shop.

the sudden sound of voices outside brought Sukuna from his thoughts and piles of paperwork, immediately standing up to step into the living room, only to be greeted by the sight of multiple men carrying boxes inside the house, “what the fuck is all this?” he asks with a low and almost scary tone, one to which you’ve grown used to.

“decoration for the house, I told you I was going to buy it” you reply nonchalant, and Sukuna couldn’t deny the way you look kinda cute with that rolled up sleeves shirt and overalls, like damn bob the builder.

unconsciously Sukuna taps his back pocket, checking his wallet, “i mean, with what money you got all this?”

“huh? with mine, obviously”

“your what?”

“what? did you seriously think I lived from your money? please, I am very dependable, thank you very much” you scoff with a frown, Sukuna did not had to know the many business you invested in with a capital from your father, which you obviously paid back and now the percentages of profit in said business just kept increasing to your good luck.

“i didn’t mean—” no, he totally did mean to imply you are a gold digger, but now… with this, things were a bit different.

he scratches his cheek, standing next to you with his towering form as you observe the boxes getting placed into the living room, yet the pink haired’s eyes remain on your side, on the way your brows are knitted in annoyance and the soft cute pout on your mouth.

you mess with his head, and now with his house, wonderful.

so ask him why he’s unpacking boxes and moving the few paintings you bought according to your commands, “up, up, a little to the right, a little more, there, perfect!” you beam and climb onto the stool to hammer a nail into the wall and allow Sukuna to hang the painting.

the maids, the butler are all gone under Sukuna’s order, and most likely gossiping over the development of the couple’s relationship.

“i should sue you for making me work unpaid” for the first time, Sukuna teases, slumped on the couch with his shirt a bit unbuttoned and his eyes locked on the way you placed a few cat like ceramics near the chimney, under the large picture frame of your wedding.

“you are soooo exaggerated” you roll your eyes with a little chuckle, “you won’t die from a little bit of hand work”

“maybe not, but my hands will get calloused because of you”

“oh, i’m sorry i’m messing with your princess hands, I will give you my creams if that makes you happy”

his smirk widens, “hey, the only princess here is you”

it really is the little details, month after month, and you notice how his behavior is slowly improving, he is no longer mean or cold, nor he leaves you speaking to yourself anymore, surprisingly he joins you on the couch now, with an arm around the back of it and over your head, yet sometimes you feel his fingers playing with the hair at the top of your head.

he is smiling, big and happy with a package under his arm, he remembers when you bought items for the house, but the floral silky set of sheets you wanted ran out of stock before you could get it, and the defeated look on your face haven’t left since.

he is a good husband, the best husband you could ask for!

“wait” where did that thought even came from?, and why was his face slightly hot, shit, shit.

never mind, he keeps mumbling to himself, hurrying to your bedroom before you arrive from your classes and is quick to undo your bed to change it into the cute sheets set.

but as he is hasty tugging the fabric, something comes flying from under your pillow.

he kneels to grab it, and his face just shows shock at the sight of it, he remembers that too well, the first magazine cover he ever did, his most proud moment and you had a copy, all those years, and so he turns the pages until it lands on the column, there's stickers and pink pen scribbles around, some words highlighted and even one or two hearts drawn around.

the pen ink was slightly worn out as if it was written years ago, and the idea makes his heart clench.

“... got some from the store, where are yo—” you both stand frozen, eyes on each other and the mess of sheets, fuck the surprise, “what are you doing?” your heart drops at the sight of Sukuna’s awestruck expression while holding the magazine open, “t-that’s personal, you know?”

“i- know, I should not have but…, when did you write this?”

how unavoidable was the conversation, “like two years ago” your gaze drifts to a side.

“did you… were you in love with me or something?” he gulps.

what was the point of denying it anymore, so you nod.

“where you or… are you?” and you softly nod again, avoiding his gaze.

“fuck” he mutters, sliding a hand through his hair in frustration, “fuck, i’m sorry”

“huh? what—”

for the second time you can’t finish a sentence before Sukuna is stomping to you, an arm around your waist and the other on your cheek before your lips clash together, it’s tender but also raw and needy.

“i’m sorry, i should have never been so rude to you, I was an idiot and thought you just wanted my money” even after the kiss he does not let you go.

“what? but I never asked for a penny”

“i know” he says even a tad frustrated, “i know, i should have trusted you”

“it’s okay, I mean, I would also be suspicious of someone who suddenly agreed to marry me without even knowing each other”

“but still…” he is still not letting you downplay the situation and his part of blame.

“Kuna, I promise it’s okay” you smile just like you always do that makes his heart melt, “i love you, and that’s all it matters”

a soft sigh leaves him, sliding a palm over your cheek, and suddenly the ring on his finger is just the perfect color that contrast your skin, “yeah, I love you too”

additional part of Sukuna finding the lingerie lmao

#lovegasmic writes sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #Sukuna angst #ryomen sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x you #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fic #sukuna fic #sukuna fanfic

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0omillo0 · 4 months ago

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Minho x Reader

Calling you clingy

angst/comfort

inspo from @ seungfl0wer!! I love their works!

You had always been the talkative, affectionate type. From the moment you met Minho, your bubbly personality had been a constant in his life, a stream of warmth and light he found himself drawn to. You loved sharing every little detail of your day with him—the funny things your coworkers said, the way the sun hit the park on your way home, or the recipe you wanted to try for dinner.

Minho had always been receptive, listening intently, laughing at your stories, and teasing you when you got overly dramatic. It became a routine, a rhythm you both cherished.

But recently, things had shifted.

Minho had been stressed, you knew that. Between his busy schedule, endless rehearsals, and looming deadlines, the pressure on him was immense. At first, you tried to give him space, being a little quieter when he came home, offering to massage his shoulders or make him his favorite tea. But when he seemed indifferent to your efforts, you couldn’t help but feel… replaced.

One evening, as you were rambling about a funny interaction at the grocery store, you noticed Minho wasn’t responding. He was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, his face blank.

You waited for his usual chuckle or comment. But there was nothing.

“Minho?” you tried again.

“What?!” he replied curtly, not looking up.

You blinked, caught off guard. “I was just saying—”

“Omg can you stop?” he interrupted sharply, finally looking at you, his brows furrowed. “I don’t need to hear every little thing that happens to you, Y/N. I’m tired. Just… give me some peace, okay? You’re so damn clingy.”

The words hit you like a slap. You stared at him, your throat tightening as the weight of his tone settled over you.

“…Oh- Okay.” you whispered, turning away before he could see the tears brimming in your eyes.

“Y/N, wait—” he started, but you were already walking out of the room.

The next few days were a blur.

You didn’t stop caring for him—that wasn’t who you were. Every morning, you dragged yourself out of bed earlier than usual, even though you despised waking up before Minho. You made him breakfast, carefully plating it on the table before leaving for work. You barely ate yourself, your appetite gone, but you didn’t want him to feel neglected.

When you got home in the evenings, you prepared dinner in silence, eating alone and leaving his portion on the table. By the time he came home, you were already in bed, curled up on your side and staring at the wall.

Minho tried to break the silence.

“Y/N,” he said softly one night as you lay beside him. “Can we talk?”

But you didn’t respond. You stayed still, pretending to be asleep, your heart aching at the tremor in his voice.

By the fourth day, Minho felt like he was losing his mind.

He missed your voice, your laughter, your stories. The quiet house felt oppressive, and the sight of you avoiding his gaze cut deeper than any harsh word ever could. He had tried apologizing in small ways—offering to help with chores, brushing your shoulder as he passed—but nothing worked.

That night, as you lay next to him, your back to him as usual, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Y/N…” His voice was barely a whisper, but you heard the crack in it.

You didn’t move.

“Please,” he said, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch your hip. “Please look at me.”

Still, you stayed still, your breathing steady but your heart racing.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I swear, I didn’t mean it.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you bit your lip, unwilling to give in so easily.

“I love the way you talk to me,” Minho continued, his voice shaking. “I love your stories. They… they make me feel like I’m part of your world, like I’m home. And I ruined that. I ruined us. I don’t know why I said those things. I was tired, I was stressed, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry, Y/N. Please… forgive me.”

You felt a tear land on your shoulder, and your resolve crumbled. Slowly, you turned to face him, your eyes meeting his for the first time in days.

His face was a mess of guilt and desperation, his eyes red and glistening.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I’m not good with words. I just… I lashed out, and I hate myself for it. I love you, Y/N. I love everything about you. Please don’t shut me out.”

Your tears spilled over, and before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him close.

“Minho,” you sobbed into his shoulder. “You hurt me.”

“I know,” he murmured, his hands trembling as they wrapped around your waist. “I’m so sorry. I’ll never do it again. I’ll never take you for granted again.”

For a moment, the only sound was your quiet crying and his whispered apologies. Then, he pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears.

“I love you,” he said again, his voice steady this time.

And then his lips found yours.

The kiss was slow at first, hesitant, as though he was afraid you might pull away. But as you responded, it deepened, filled with a mixture of passion, regret, and unspoken promises.

When you finally broke apart, your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling in the quiet of the room.

“I missed you,” you whispered.

“I missed you too,” he replied, his voice soft but resolute.

That night, Minho held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, and for the first time in days, the silence between you was replaced by the warmth of reconciliation.

@intartaruginha @hannamoon143

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ilovolderman · 8 days ago

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Girlfriend For The Weekend

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: You offer to be Bucky Barnes’ girlfriend for a weekend wedding—and he says yes.

Word Count: 996

Warnings: fluff, fake dating, mutual pining, some tension (maybe?) and soft moments, no explicit content

A/N: just some fake dating plot that came to my mind while listening to Garden of Eden by Lady Gaga (i'm so obsessed with it btw) so if you feeling like playing it while reading i think it fits just right. hope you like it :)

You didn’t mean for it to happen.

Or maybe you did. Maybe some reckless part of you—the one that always showed up when Bucky Barnes looked at you a second too long—was hoping something would shift that night. Hoping the playful back-and-forth would crack into something messier, warmer, sweeter.

But even you weren’t expecting this.

The mission had wrapped, the rest of the team scattered, and somehow you’d ended up in Bucky’s room at the safehouse, both of you still wearing your tactical gear, dirt and adrenaline clinging to your skin. It started with a drink, then another, then music low in the background and your knees touching his on the edge of the bed.

Bucky was complaining about having to show up at Sarah’s wedding. Actually, you were only half-listening to him. There was something about the way he was looking at you that made it harder to focus on what he was saying.

“I mean, I like Sarah and the kids… But there’s this thing about weddings… Just couples everywhere. And you know Sam, he will force me to go. Just to stand there. Weirdly alone and single.”

You wanted to blame the alcohol in your system, but the way he was looking at you was much more intoxicating. So before you could even realize it, it was too late—the words were already coming out of your mouth. Half a joke, half a dare.

“I could be your girlfriend. For the weekend.”

When he agreed, you thought he was taking it as a joke. But when he sent you a text the next day asking what time he could pick you up, you swear your heart almost skipped a beat.

And there you were, standing in a fancy dress that night—even wearing high heels. The minute you heard the knock on your door, you knew it was him.

You had to try a little too hard not to fall in your heels when you saw him. I mean, you saw each other almost every day, but nothing could’ve prepared you for Bucky Barnes in a fucking suit, standing in front of you.

You had to blink twice to make sure you weren’t hallucinating.

Because wow.

He looked good. Not just handsome—he was always that—but this was something else entirely. Sharp suit, dark blue shirt with the top button undone, his hair slicked back just enough to look like he didn’t care. And the smirk he gave you? Yeah, that didn’t help.

“You clean up nice, doll,” he said, eyes flicking down over your dress before quickly coming back to meet yours. Respectful. But not too respectful.

You rolled your eyes to cover the way your stomach flipped. “You don’t look so bad yourself. I almost didn’t recognize you without the tactical gear and dirt.”

He offered his arm like a goddamn gentleman. “Shall we?”

And you went. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like your heart wasn’t hammering in your chest every time his hand brushed yours. Like the way he leaned in to whisper jokes during the reception wasn’t making your knees weak. Like the world hadn’t tilted just a little on its axis the moment you said those words: I could be your girlfriend.

It should’ve been easy. A game. Something to laugh about later. But every time he touched the small of your back, or looked at you across the room with that glint in his eye, something in you shifted. Something unspoken but loud, loud enough to drown out the music and the chatter and every voice in your head telling you not to fall.

And then the slow song started.

You were sipping something sparkly—champagne or maybe just expensive apple juice in disguise—when Bucky appeared at your side, hand extended and a smirk playing on his lips like he already knew you’d say yes.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Can’t have my fake girlfriend sitting alone during a slow song. People will talk.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning annoyance. “And what will people say?”

“That I’m a bad boyfriend,” he said, a little too smoothly. “We can’t have that, can we?”

You let him lead you onto the dance floor, your hand slipping into his like it had done it a hundred times before. The space between you disappeared slowly, naturally—your hands on his shoulders, his on your waist. That warm pressure again. Grounding. Dangerous.

“You’re really committing to the bit,” you murmured, trying not to stare at his mouth when he smiled.

He leaned in, voice low and teasing against your ear. “What can I say? I’m a method actor.”

You huffed a laugh, even as your pulse spiked. “Remind me to never let you fake date me again. You’re setting unrealistic standards.”

“Is that so?” he asked, tilting his head like he was genuinely curious. “What part’s unrealistic? The dancing? The suit? Or the fact that I haven’t taken my eyes off you all night?”

Your breath caught, just for a second. He noticed. Of course he did.

“I thought you were supposed to be acting,” you said quietly, but the words came out softer than you meant them to.

“I am,” he said. Then his gaze dropped to your lips, lingered, and rose again. “Unless I’m not.”

You didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Because your brain was short-circuiting under the weight of his stare and the press of his fingers at your waist and the way your body already knew how to sway with his like you were built to fit there.

The song ended. You didn’t move.

Neither did he.

Someone bumped into you from behind, laughing, pulling you both back into reality. But even as you stepped apart, the spell didn’t break—it just hung there between you, buzzing like static in the air.

“Careful,” you said, swallowing hard as you tried to find your voice again. “You’re gonna make me think this isn’t fake.”

He smiled, soft and unreadable. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fandom #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #james bucky barnes #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #the winter soldier #the winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier x reader

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psychotrenny · 27 days ago

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When getting into disagreements with people online, 9/10 whatever arguments you use will have much less effect on the actual target than they'll have on any spectators and bystanders. This includes both direct arguments and the various ways you can analyse or mock posts without directly engaging the poster. Because more often than not, when someone takes a stance it's not on a complete whim. They usually have some sort of stake in believing it to be true. It could be material, social, emotional; sometimes as simple as avoiding the petty humiliation of admitting they were wrong to strangers on the internet. Whatever the case, it's pretty unlikely you'll change anyone's mind right way no matter how many persuasive arguments or cutting remarks you "get" them with

You'll have a much better chance of swaying the opinions of those who aren't directly involved. They could be entirely neutral on the issue, or they could have an opinion but aren't committed enough to actually argue for it. Either way their stake in the issue clearly isn't as large; at the very least the fact they aren't in an argument means they aren't afraid of losing it. Which means they'll be much more receptive to new ideas, and much more willing to evaluate them in terms of how they are presented rather than what they'd already prefer to be true. In that case how well you argue, or at least how funny you are while doing so, does actually matter. And while you obviously aren't gonna change the world or anything by doing this, it can at least help to discredit particular ideas within the bounds of particular social spaces. Depending on the context, convincingly arguing against something can actually be more productive than yelling at a brick wall. It's just rarely gonna feel that way. For many people the one thing harder than changing their mind is getting them to admit they were wrong in the first place

#Stella Speaks

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okaylikeschaewon · 8 months ago

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Thirsty

~7k words, Roommates series, Eunbi, smut

“Yo, far side of the bar, they’re still here.”

“I told you, tonight I’m chilling,” you replied, sipping your drink casually. “Take Mint with you.”

“Come on, there’s three of them and I know the one in the middle is your type.”

“Let it go, Jae,” Mint laughed, coming to your defense. “It was hard enough to convince him to come out tonight. There’ll be other girls.”

“Yeah, but I want that girl,” Jae complained. “And this handsome fucker knows the success rate of a three versus three is way higher than a two versus three.”

“I can’t lie, the friend in that little black dress is pretty fucking hot,” Mint added. “But you’d probably fumble this one anyway, you’ve been struggling tonight.”

“Man, I didn’t give a shit about that last girl, she wasn’t even my type,” Jae waved his hand in front of his face. “This girl, though? No chance of fumbling this one. I need to talk to her.”

“What, we’re not good enough for you anymore?” Mint picked up his own drink and took a sip. “You know, you’re allowed to go out and just chill with the boys from time to time.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” you agreed with your friend. “We rarely go out and don’t talk to girls.”

“Yeah it’s rare because your ass hates fun now,” Jae retaliated. “Gotta get you to a knitting club or some shit with all that ‘I refuse to find a girl in a club’ shit you’ve been spewing lately.”

“It’s true, I know I’m not finding the one in a club, especially not one like this,” you laughed while waving Yujin, one of the bartenders, over to get you another drink.

“He has a point,” Mint agreed. “It literally hasn’t worked out for any of us, and Jae you definitely have the most experience in that regard.”

“Also look, your three-man just turned into a two-man,” you commented while accepting your drink from Yujin and handing her a tip. “My girl just ditched them.”

“Perfect, come on MInty, let’s go,” Jae laughed. “You said you liked that little dress.”

“Great,” Mint sighed. “Let’s go add another failed two-man to the history books.”

The three of you laughed together before all of you picked up your drinks.

“Cheers boys,” you held your glass up, laughing as the three of you hit your glasses together. You took a hefty sip of your own while your friends finished theirs. “If the third girl comes back, I’ll step in. Good luck.”

“We don’t need luck where we’re going,” Jae puffed his chest out in confidence.

The two of them walked over to the girls while you watched, leaning against the bar. They actually seemed quite receptive, both of them were laughing at something Jae said. Within minutes, Mint had his arm around the girl he was interested in, and she could not stop staring at him. Jae’s girl was a bit more reserved, but she wouldn’t stop laughing at whatever he was saying.

“I feel like I should warn you,” Yujin leaned over towards you. “That girl your buddy is talking to is roommates with the girl he was talking to last weekend.”

“Oh shit, for real?” you burst out laughing. “Well, I guess he’s in for a surprise if it works out. What about the girl in the dress?”

“Never seen her before, but she seems incredibly sweet,” she answered. “What about you, couldn’t find a girl tonight?”

“What do you mean, I’m talking to one right now.”

“That doesn’t count, it’s my job to talk to customers.”

“Is it also your job to give your number to customers?” you smirked.

“You might as well delete it with how often you text me,” Yujin replied without missing a beat. “And if you say that any louder I will get security to carry you out of here.”

“Don’t worry, I was about to get going anyway. Could you close my tab?”

“Wow, calling it early tonight?” Yujin asked while tapping away at the screen.

“Yeah, I’m exhausted,” you answered. “Plus, it looks like those two are going to be pretty busy,” you motioned towards your friends. Jae had his tongue down his girl and Mint looked like he was absolutely in love with his.

“I guess you’ll have to get a drink with me another night,” Yujin held your card out for you.

“I still gotta finish this one,” you motioned towards your half emptied drink. “You could join me.”

“We agreed that when we eventually get a drink together I’d have to be on that side of the bar,” Yujin replied.

“You’re right, in that case,” you picked your drink up and downed it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Have a good night,” Yujin leaned over the bar to give you a quick hug and kissed you on the cheek.

Before leaving, you quickly stopped by the bathroom. As soon as you walked in, a pair of girls left one of the stalls together, their clothes making the most feeble attempt at covering their bodies. The first girl was about to walk right past you, but she stopped when her friend paused.

“Why are you in the girl’s bathroom?” she asked you, clearly a little bit tipsy, or perhaps a lot tipsy.

“This is not the girl’s bathroom.”

“It’s not?” she gasped, eyes wide, looking around.

“No, it’s not,” you chuckled, carefully with two fingers adjusting her strap so that it was on her shoulder properly. “So, I guess I should be asking you, why are you in the men’s bathroom?”

“I was just letting my friend eat my ass,” the girl hiccuped.

“Wony, what the fuck,” her friend came back and grabbed her arm.

“Let go of me!” she squealed, yanking her arm away. “I found the love of my life.”

“Well, the love of your life needs to go piss,” you chuckled, turning to walk away from her.

The girl, Wony, stuck her arm out to stop you. Her friend looked so defeated, standing there and watching the events unfold.

“Let me hold it for you,” Wony mumbled as she fell forward.

“Whoa there,” you caught her in your arms, holding her up and stopping her from hitting her head against the wall. “How about we take a seat for a second.”

“I want to sit… on your cock…”

“Alright! That’s enough!” her friend came and grabbed Wony, dragging her away from you. “It’s time to leave.”

“Do you need help?” you asked her friend as she started dragging Wony away.

“It’s- fine-” she gasped as Wony broke free of her grip again and ran into you.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” she moaned as she latched onto you again. “Please eat my ass.”

If only this girl wasn’t borderline blacked out right now, because she was fucking gorgeous. It was a shame, but you weren’t going to even consider accepting her advances in this state, that wasn’t your cup of tea. You very carefully, while watching your hand placement, tried to get her off you, but it was futile - you decided just to carry her out of the bathroom while her friend watched.

“Here, sit down for a second,” you placed her gently onto one of the empty couches where her friend sat down next to her. “I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t leave me,” she whined, reaching out for you with both hands.

“I’m coming right back,” you grabbed both of her hands in yours and shook them playfully. “I promise.”

You couldn’t deny it, the way she nodded was quite endearing. She was still incredibly pretty, but now she was also absurdly cute. Once you felt confident that the girl, Wony, wouldn't fall over, you walked over to the bar.

“She’s cute,” Yujin teased, handing you the glass of water she already knew you came to get.

“She’s drunk,” you shook your head before thanking Yujin and heading back to the girls. Once you arrived back at the table, you handed Wony’s friend the glass of water since Wony was barely conscious at this point and holding a glass would not be in her best interest.

“I appreciate the help,” the friend said, accepting the glass and placing it on the table before reaching her hand out to you. “My name’s Gaeul, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” you replied after giving her your name and shaking her hand. “And don’t worry about it, just make sure she drinks some water.”

“Also, what she said about me earlier, that was just a joke,” Gaeul added sheepishly.

“Even if it wasn’t, I’m not judging. That’s your business, not mine,” you replied casually. “Are you guys going to be alright getting home?”

“Yeah, we should be fine, some of our friends are by the bar, we came together,” Gaeul answered kindly. “Thank you again!”

“No problem, have a lovely night, and make sure she drinks that at some point,” you replied warmly before getting up.

Just as you were about to go back to the bathroom, a girl standing by the bar caught your attention. There were pretty girls everywhere, but this one stood out well above the rest. She was perfect - absolutely flawless. Everything from her posture to her expression, the way her outfit accentuated her beautifully fit body, showcasing her phenomenal rack, you just knew you had to talk to this one. You saw her separate from the group briefly as she was putting her empty drink back on the bar and decided that you needed to take the opportunity.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but you look like someone who I need to buy a drink,” you opened with as you leaned against the bar next to the girl.

“Oh do I?” she smirked, turning to face you properly.

It was incredibly difficult to keep your eyes up; She probably had the best tits you had seen in your entire life. Luckily for you, her face was also unbelievably pretty - this girl was unreal - so it wasn’t much of a punishment to keep eye contact with her. This girl really had it all.

“Yes, you absolutely do,” you waved Yujin over and held up two fingers, pointing to the glass the girl had placed on the bar and mouthing ‘please’.

Yujin nodded with a smile and began making the drinks.

“I appreciate the gesture,” the girl smiled while reaching into her purse. “But I think I’m the one who owes you the drink. I saw you taking care of Wonyoung over there.”

“Oh, you know her?”

“We go to school together,” she explained. “She’s actually my roommate.”

“You guys go to-” you began while gesturing towards the direction of your school when Eunbi interrupted you.

“Yup, we heard all the students love this club. It’s our first time here.”

“Wait, you’re not a freshman are you?”

“We’re both juniors, but neither of us lived in dorms before,” she laughed. “You?”

“Senior, been in dorms since the start,” you answered.

“I guess that means you come here often?”

“You could say that. Also, I didn’t help your roommate to get a free drink out of it,” you reached forward and blocked her from taking her card out of her purse. “How about you let me get these since I’m the one who offered, and you can thank me by telling me your name.”

The girl smiled at you, slumping her shoulders in defeat, accepting that you weren’t going to allow her to buy. She took the glass from your hand with a little nod of thanks while you began reaching for your card.

“Don’t worry about it, this one’s on the house,” Yujin winked at you before walking off.

“Would you look at that, now you don’t have to feel guilty,” you smiled, holding your glass up for her.

“So, I guess that confirms you’re a regular,” the girl chuckled while tapping her glass against yours and taking a sip with you. “My name is Eunbi.”

“Alright Eunbi, explain something to me,” you put your glass down.

“What’s up?”

“How is it that I’ve never seen you before?”

“Maybe you have.”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t forget it if I had,” you smiled at her.

“Well, it’s a big school,” she giggled, looking away for a second in embarrassment. “I was mostly a go-home-after-school type of girl.”

“Then I guess I should just be grateful that I ran into you tonight.”

“You definitely should, I’m not really one to go out like this.”

“Could have fooled me,” you looked her outfit up and down. “You definitely know how to dress the part.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” she smiled again, once again slightly embarrassed by the compliment. “Unfortunately, I think my friends are trying to leave.”

“I don’t see why that has to stop us from talking.”

“What are you implying, you want to stay here?”

“Here, somewhere else,” you answered. “Wherever I can talk to you some more.”

“Well, it is kinda loud here,” Eunbi looked around the club.

“My place is pretty quiet right now,” you commented while looking over at Mint who had his tongue down his girl’s throat now. “And it doesn’t look like my roommate is going to be bothering me tonight.”

“You’re going to invite me over after just meeting me?” Eunbi asked. “That’s a bit quick, no?”

“I’ve been enjoying your company so far and I’d love to get to know you better,” you replied with a smile before pulling out your phone and texting the group chat to let them know you were leaving. “But if you’re not comfortable with that, wanna at least put your number in my phone before we forget?”

“Depends, are you texting your girlfriend right now?”

“Girlfriend?”

“I don’t know, gut feeling,” Eunbi explained.

“Here,” you held your phone out to her. “I got nothing to hide, I was texting my friends to let them know I was leaving.”

Eunbi took one look at your phone and immediately bent over laughing.

“Condom broke, we awoke?”

“Blame my friend Jae for that one,” you smiled at her reaction.

“That has to be one of the best group chat names I’ve ever seen,” Eunbi giggled before looking at your phone again. “Alright, you can have my-” she stopped speaking abruptly and her cheeks turned bright pink. “Prettiest girl you’ve ever seen?” she mumbled, looking up from the phone.

“What, I tell my boys how it is,” you replied casually. “I never lie to them.”

Eunbi gave you back your phone and turned around to run over to her group of friends who were still standing there watching her from a few feet away. She began telling them something that earned you some peeks from a few of them. Wonyoung was asleep on Gaeul’s shoulder at this point, the latter flashed a smile at you while Eunbi talked. After about a minute or so, she quickly scurried back towards you.

“You’re not going to murder me, right?”

“Probably not,” you answered.

“Good enough for me,” Eunbi giggled. “Alright, I accept your offer.”

“Are you sure your friends are cool with this?” you asked, staring at Eunbi’s gorgeous eyes while in your periphery you could see her friends all staring at you. “I feel like I’m the one who should be worried about getting murdered.”

“You’ll be fine if you kiss me.”

“If I kiss you?”

“Yeah, they’ll probably trust you then,” Eunbi stared back into your eyes - she was serious.

“Only one way to find out,” you replied, slowly leaning forward.

The skill of Eunbi’s lips was not something you were prepared for. You closed your eyes, cupping her face in your hands, relishing in the sweet taste of her strawberry lip gloss, enjoying the enthralling nature of her soft lips. You couldn’t even hear the music anymore, in your mind the only thing left in this world was the girl you were making out with. As you felt her hand on the back of your neck, you moved one of your hands to her back, holding her warmly.

Once the kiss finally ended and you two separated, Eunbi held her face in front of yours, staring deeply into your eyes. She was adorable, absolutely the prettiest girl you had seen in your entire life. Her round eyes, expressionless face, the way she held herself right in front of you.

“Did it work,” she asked, never breaking eye contact.

“I don’t know.”

“Are you going to check?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t stop looking at you.”

She kept staring back, but now she was smiling and her cheeks were turning pink again.

“Whatever, it was just an excuse to kiss you anyway.”

“You don’t need an excuse to do that.”

“Do you ever stop flirting?” she asked.

“How about we start walking and you can find out for yourself,” you suggested, holding your hand out for her to take.

“We gotta finish our drinks first though,” Eunbi picked your glass back up and placed it in your outstretched hand.

“Let's do it properly then.” you suggested, holding your arm up slightly.

Eunbi wrapped her arm around yours, interlocking your arms at the elbows. She smiled brightly at you before bringing her drink up to her mouth. The two of you started drinking together. You finished your drink a few seconds before her and watched as she scrunched up her face trying to catch up. With your arm locked with hers still, all you could do was watch patiently as the adorable girl chugged her drink until she successfully finished it.

“Definitely not your first time,” you chuckled, taking her glass from her.

After placing her glass on the bar you grabbed a couple of napkins which you held out for her so that she could wipe her lips. She, however, had a different idea, and instead of accepting the napkins stuck her face out and pouted her lips at you. You smiled again, using the napkins to wipe her lips for her - this earned an eruption of little screams and squeals from her friends which you ignored. Eunbi grabbed your hand with a smile and pulled you out of the club without looking back at her friends a single time.

“Finally, I can hear my own thoughts,” you sighed as the brisk night air hit your skin.

“And what are those thoughts telling you?” Eunbi asked while letting go of your hand and spinning in a circle playfully.

“The same thing my eyes are,” you responded while looking over at Eunbi. “That you look even more stunning under the moonlight than I could have ever imagined.”

“I guess that answers my question,” Eunbi laughed, stumbling slightly before balancing herself.

“You’re not also drunk, are you?”

“Oh please, I can handle my liquor way better than Wonyoung,” Eunbi giggled, swaying slightly as she stood there with her hands on her hips. “I’m barely tipsy.”

“How many did you drink tonight?” you asked while walking up next to her and grabbing her hands.

“We were taking shots earlier…” she squinted her eyes as she was trying to remember. “Three? Four? I don’t know.”

“Plus at least two drinks.”

“That’s your fault,” she whined, pouting again. “I was fine until that last one.”

“It was your idea to chug it.”

“Oh yeah,” she giggled before latching onto your arm. “I’ll be honest, I think I’m feeling that last one hit me…”

“Have you been drinking water? Want me to get you some?”

“No it’s fine, I’ll drink some at your place. You have water right?”

“Of course I have water,” you chuckled.

“Then let’s go!” Eunbi giggled again, hopping cutely. “I’m getting cold.”

“We could grab a cab if you wanted,” you suggested as you started walking.

“It’s like a five minute walk to dorms, we’re not getting a cab,” Eunbi dismissed the idea, shivering slightly as she held onto your arm.

“Here,” you lifted your arm up and pulled her closer to your body, wrapping your arm around her shoulder. “Sorry I don’t have a jacket tonight, no drama-esque scene for us.”

“It’s alright,” Eunbi smiled as she held onto your body. “This’ll do. You smell really nice, by the way.”

“Just give me a warning if you’re about to throw up, I like this shirt.”

“Real funny,” Eunbi rolled her eyes at you. “I told you, I’m just tipsy.”

“So what’s the occasion tonight that led to you getting ‘just tipsy’, Friday night?”

“Wony passed some stupid quiz or something and wanted to go out,” Eunbi answered, the little girl shivering slightly. “Friday night is not enough to get me to go out, I told you I don’t do this often.”

“Celebrating a quiz? Wow, you guys sure are good friends.”

“I kinda owed her for something, otherwise I meant it when I said I really don’t go out like this very often.”

“With how quick you were to take any excuse to get out of there, I almost believe you,” you chuckled, giving her just a little bit of a squeeze to let her know you weren’t being serious. “Or maybe you just didn’t want to deal with your drunk roommate.”

“She’s a bit of a brat at times,” Eunbi giggled. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my roommate.”

“I wasn’t questioning it.”

“Good, with how much we do for her, you better not question it.”

“How much you do?”

“Look,” Eunbi giggled. “That girl is as bi as they come, I never know if she’s going to bring a guy or a girl back to the dorm. Thank God we have separate bedrooms.”

“Ah, so that’s what you meant by you owed her.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Hey look, it’s fine if you’re in a relationship with your roommate,” you teased.

“Me? No,” Eunbi laughed. “Our friend Gaeul on the other hand, she’s been coming over almost every night lately.”

“Oh yeah?” you replied, hoping she would elaborate.

“Wonyoung is fucking shameless, I swear,” Eunbi giggled while shaking her head. “She had Gaeul… this might be tmi…”

“No such thing as tmi in my eyes.”

“Look, we’re touchy and all that, I even kissed her tonight as a dare,” Eunbi continued. “But Gaeul… Wonyoung has her do everything to her.”

“Should I even ask?”

“All I’m saying is that the mess they left in the room tonight before we came out is part of the reason why I’d rather go back to your place,” Eunbi giggled.

“I hope you’re not expecting my place to be pristine, I wasn’t expecting company tonight.”

“As long as there aren’t plugs and beads all over the room, it’ll be better than ours.”

“Who said there wouldn’t be?”

“I… guess I didn’t account for that,” Eunbi giggled again. “Which floor are you on?” she asked as your building came into view.

“Third.”

“Oh! Same as us!”

“Wait, you’re also in this building?”

“Yeah,” Eunbi answered enthusiastically. “In the girl’s wing, of course.”

“Thanks for confirming, I was totally questioning that part,” you replied while scanning your ID to open the door. “Now I’m even more upset that I haven’t run into you before.”

“Well, now you know I’m only one hallway away from you, no more excuses,” Eunbi walked through the door you held for her.

After a short elevator ride and walk, you found yourself at your door. You opened it up, holding it for Eunbi to enter before following her into the room.

“Oh wow, this is my first time in a guys’ room,” Eunbi commented while looking around. “It looks just like ours.”

“Were you expecting something different?” you chuckled while walking past Eunbi towards the kitchen. “Here, drink this,” you poured her a glass of water which she accepted graciously.

“Thanks, that walk honestly sobered me up quite a bit.”

“Good, unless you wanted to stay tipsy,” you replied. “All we have right now is some shitty rum or some shitty vodka.”

“I’m alright, thank you though,” Eunbi smiled before putting the empty water glass down. “Can I see your room?”

“Yeah, of course,” you walked over to your bedroom door and entered your room. “Wanna sit?”

“Sure.”

“Go ahead,” you motioned towards your bed. “Mind giving me a second, I still really need to run to the bathroom.”

“No worries,” Eunbi smiled at you before looking around your room, admiring the various vanity items.

In the bathroom, you took a quick piss and then quickly reapplied some cologne. You checked your hair in the mirror, made sure everything looked good before heading to the kitchen where you grabbed yourself a glass of water, chugging it before heading back to your room.

“Did you want anything by the way, a drink-” you froze when you entered the room and saw Eunbi had taken off her top, leaving her in just a blue bra. “Oh.”

“Come sit,” Eunbi patted the bed next to her where you walked over and sat down. “You deserve some credit.”

“What for?” you asked, sitting down on the bed next to Eunbi, your eyes no longer able to avoid her tits.

“Not once have I caught you looking at my chest tonight,” Eunbi giggled. “Come on, I’m not stupid.”

“I gotta admit, you haven’t been paying enough attention,” you chuckled. “They’re too fucking beautiful, I couldn’t help myself.”

“At least you’re honest,” Eunbi smiled, leaning closer towards you. “You know, you’re allowed to touch them.”

“Quick to the point, are we?”

“I can put my top back on if you want,” Eunbi commented with an expression of fake concern.

“That won’t be necessary.”

The way her gorgeous smile began shining as soon as you grabbed her tits in your hands couldn’t be compared to anything. Nothing was hotter than a girl with self-confidence, and Eunbi absolutely knew what she was packing. Her tits were so fucking perfect, and they felt as amazing as they looked. So soft, molding into your fingers and you squeezed and squished them in every direction.

“Kiss me again and I’ll take the bra off, too,” she whispered, replacing her smile with the most seductive gaze humanly possible and opening her mouth slightly.

There wasn’t even a second of hesitation before you pressed forward with your mouth. You kept one hand squeezing her tits while the other lowered down towards her hip. Once again that delightful taste of strawberry blessed your mouth as Eunbi wrapped her arms around you, feeling up and down your toned back.

She was so fucking irresistable, you couldn’t detach from her body. You had to keep kissing her, you had to keep feeling her, you had to have her. She was too beautiful for this world - for all you knew, this was just a dream. Who fucking cared, you’d never wake up from this if it was, and that would be alright.

Without even stopping the kiss, Eunbi began reaching behind her back to unstrap her bra. You quickly reached around her body to help her, unstrapping it immediately and tossing it to the side. It didn’t even matter that her tits were completely out now, you didn’t want to stop kissing her yet to take a proper look. Slowly, you pushed forward until Eunbi was laying on her back, both of her hands now cupping your face while both of your hands were groping her chest.

This continued for a few more minutes, both of you were addicted to the other. Eunbi now had her leg bent and wrapped around your hips, you had one hand on the back of her thigh holding it up. Your other hand was still pressing into her soft tits, rubbing her nipples from time to time. Your hand slid up the back of her thigh, and for a bit you ended up palming her soft ass.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” Eunbi moaned from beneath you. “And you’re really fucking hot.”

“Right back at ya,” you smirked before shoving your mouth into her neck, kissing her clavicle.

“I don’t usually do it on the first night,” Eunbi moaned, grabbing your hair and pushing your head lower so that you were squished between her tits.

“That’s fine,” you gasped for air before taking her nipple into your mouth, sucking the nub until it was covered in your saliva. “No pressure.”

“I can make an exception tonight.”

“Should I grab a condom?” you asked excitedly before moving your mouth to her other tit and showing it the same love.

“No need, I’m on the pill,” Eunbi let go of your head and started pulling her skirt down.

“Leave it,” you insisted, sliding down your bed and reaching your hands up her skirt. “May I?”

She nodded with a giggle, loving your little act of chivalry, bending both of her legs so that her knees were up and bringing her hands to her tits, playing with them aggressively. As soon as her panties came off, you shoved your face between her legs. Just like that, within minutes of getting her in your room, you had your face in front of this dime piece of a girl’s pussy. A sharp inhale filled the room as you planted a kiss on her pussy - pure ecstasy to your ears.

Instead of sucking on her beautifully shaved pussy, you decided to slow it down, tease her a bit. You pressed your lips against her soft inner thigh, holding against her skin for a few seconds before kissing. Then, the same on the other leg, alternating with each kiss, moving closer and closer to her pussy. Once you couldn’t get any closer without actually placing your mouth on her folds, you started licking circles around her.

“Stop fucking teasing me,” Eunbi whined, squirming her lower body incessantly.

The corners of your lips curled upwards. You were going to have her begging soon, but you also needed a proper taste of Eunbi’s sweet pussy. With all the enthusiasm in the world, you gave her a singular lick from the bottom of her pussy all the way up to her clit where you sealed her clit with your lips. With the slight tang of her pussy now on your taste buds, you started jabbing your tongue against her clit.

“Oh yeah,” she began moaning before her moans swapped to screams as you shoved, without warning, two fingers up her pussy. “Oh fuck!”

Her entire lower body lifted off the bed briefly as you pushed two knuckles deep into her pussy, but the real surprise came when you felt her pussy squirt right onto your chin. You sat up on your knees, pulling your dripping fingers out of her snatch.

“Sorry,” Eunbi gasped, her chest heaving. “I should have… warned you…”

“Don’t apologize,” you wiped your chin with the back of your hand before ripping your shirt off and tossing it to the side. “That was really fucking hot.”

Eunbi didn’t have any time to feel embarrassed because as soon as your shirt came off you had shoved two fingers up her vagina again, this time thrusting them back and forth aggressively while your other hand started rubbing circles against her clit. It was sensory overload, you could tell by the way her face scrunched up in raw, unfiltered pleasure, and also by the droplets that began flinging out of her.

“Come on,” you grunted, speeding up your thrusting even more.

Suddenly, you got what you were looking for. Eunbi began gushing, spraying all over your arm, your chest, and your bed. She still had her eyes closed, but as her body once again lifted off the bed, she kept squirting all over anything that dared exist in front of her pussy. Once she stopped, you pulled your fingers out, and that led to a gush of liquid spilling out of her. Without missing a beat, you shoved your face between her legs and began lapping up her mess.

“Oh my fucking God,” Eunbi sobbed, her pussy literally trembling against your tongue. “Please.”

It was so fucking addicting. You couldn’t stop, you needed to suck every drop out of her pussy. You wanted to drown in her, your brain wasn’t working anymore. Eunbi’s wet pussy was your salvation. There was no way to know it now, but you’d be thinking about sucking Eunbi’s pussy for the next week.

“Stop,” she cried out, grabbing your hair with her hands. “I can’t…”

With her hands threatening to pull your hair out, you finally obeyed her wishes and held your face still. Other than the occasional lick of your tongue, you simply enjoyed the pulsatile squirts coming out of Eunbi’s pussy directly onto your chin. Once she finally stopped, her squirts being reduced to the occasional dribbles of fluid, you pulled back and sat up on your knees.

“You’re really fucking hot,” you said nonchalantly, wiping your chin again with the back of your hand.

“Come here,” she moaned, reaching her arms out for you.

As soon as you moved forward, she began kissing you again. Her hands found your buckle, undoing it swiftly and unbuttoning your pants. She fumbled around your crotch some more until her hand made it down your underwear, pulling your cock out.

“Want me to suck it first,” she whispered into your mouth between kisses, stroking your cock gently.

“Fuck that,” you spread her legs wide for you to get closer.

“Hold up,” Eunbi got up and turned you around so that now you were laying on your back with her on top of you. “Let me.”

Eunbi, her body right above yours, began rubbing her pussy with her palm before grabbing your cock and spreading her fluids along your shaft. She held your cock with one hand, lining it up with her pussy, and slowly started to lower herself onto your cock. You grabbed her skirt, lifting it up just in time to see her drenched pussy lips spread to accept your cock. She lowered herself lower and lower, pausing once she was all the way down, scrunching her face in delectation as her pussy adjusted to your size.

The girl knew how to move her hips, clearly showing off as she started moving up and down your shaft slowly. Her soaked pussy moved effortlessly as she started bouncing up and down your cock. Your hands found their way to her ass, gripping it tightly while she did all the work, working your cock like an expert.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you grunted, starting to push your hips into hers.

Eunbi started leaning forward, her massive tits hanging in front of you, shaking and jiggling each time she bounced on your cock. They were beautiful, shining as her efforts began leaving a thin layer of sweat all over her soft skin. She was beautiful. The way her face scrunched up as she felt each inch of your cock, she was irresistible. How could a girl be this perfect?

It was overwhelming. You didn’t have it in you to lay there, you knew you had to properly fuck this girl soon or else she was going to make you erupt with how good she was at moving her hips. Your hands left her ass and slid up her back, pulling her tits closer to your face until your nose was pressed between them. With your arms hugging her tightly, you stopped holding back.

“Oh fuck yes!” Eunbi screamed at the top of her lungs as soon as you started slamming your hips towards the roof. “Uh!”

It was such a blessing knowing most of your hallway would be out tonight, sparing you from dealing with the repercussions of a noise complaint, because Eunbi was loud. Equally as loud as her screams was the sound of your body slapping against her sweat-coated skin. At this point you had no idea if it was her sweat coating your legs or the absurd amount of fluid this goddess of a woman had squirted on you tonight.

Everything became a blur of wetness, tits, and Eunbi’s screams. The profanities Eunbi were shouting into your room would surely get you expelled if your school could hear them. If it wasn’t a moan or a cry, it was a mixture of the most lust-driven mumbles of salaciousness. Even with how loud Eunbi’s voice was, she could barely be heard over the wet slapping of her pussy getting fucked.

As much as you wanted to switch up the position, you couldn’t. You physically could not detach your face from Eunbi’s tits - it was not possible. Not that it really mattered, Eunbi was making it very clear that she was enjoying this. In fact, she could not have made it any more clear than she already was, especially with how her body had started squirting all over your cock now. The only disappointment was that as you felt Eunbi’s wetness coating your crotch, you knew you were quickly approaching your limit.

“I’m close,” you huffed into Eunbi’s tits.

There was no way to be sure if Eunbi heard you, not until at least she started bouncing her hips up and down with every bit of enthusiasm in her little frame. She didn’t just want you to cum in her, she wanted to make you cum in her - It was out of your control now. There was no stopping it now, you felt the pressure, the sensation, the pleasure all building up in your cock.

With your hands now squeezing onto Eunbi’s ass for dear life, your face pressed as far into her tits as it could go, you held on for dear life as your cock blew its load into her pussy. She kept moaning, kept moving her hips, despite it being impossible for her to know you were adding to the mess of fluids in her pussy. The only indication would have been the strained moan you let escape your lips as your cock pumped again and again, emptying itself into her.

With one final pump, your entire body went limp. Your hands fell to your sides, and all you could do now was breathe deeply against the softness of Eunbi’s tits. She lay on top of you for a bit longer in silence, moving her hips just enough to feel your cock still inside her as it also began to relax.

“Holy fuck Eunbi,” you broke the silence, trying and failing to sit up.

She didn’t even reply, she simply giggled as she lifted herself up. Slowly, she moved up and let your cock fall over, completely coated in a mess of cum and all of Eunbi’s bodily fluids. Eunbi reached past your body, once again giving you a beautiful view of her massive tits hanging down towards your face, and grabbed a few tissues. She wiped between her legs, not that it mattered with how much of a mess everything was now, before standing up, leaving you on your bed gasping for air.

“Do you mind if I borrow a shirt?”

“Yeah go ahead,” you panted, your chest heaving up and down with your eyes closed.

“Can I take this one?” Eunbi asked.

She looked so embarrassed when you opened your eyes to see her holding the shirt you were wearing earlier.

“Sure,” you shrugged, sitting up in your bed, finally catching your breath. “Bring it back whenever, you know where I live.”

“I promise I will,” Eunbi smiled, slipping the shirt on. It was too big for her, and she looked adorable in it. She quickly checked her phone before giving you a disappointed look “I’m really sorry to rush off like this. I would have loved to spend more time, but I need to check up on Wony.”

“Don’t worry about it at all, go take care of your roommate. I’ll see you soon?”

“Abso’ fucking ‘lutely you will, especially after that.”

---

A/N:

Um, Eunbi is really hot. I just HAD to write her at some point. Initially I planned to make this like a 15-20k word fic, but after talking to some other writers I decided to break it up for the sake of readability (yes, that means I have already planned out the plot for the next two parts, and yes I have already started working on them). I could have written it all out and edited it properly, but that dopamine rush of posting a fic is too strong.

Hopefully you guys enjoy, this is a little different from my typical style in the sense that it's an alternate universe fic! I just had this idea and felt like writing it out, I might end up doing more of these style of fics if I get some more ideas that I feel like writing, especially for idols/groups who I don't follow as closely. Let me know what you guys think, as always, appreciate the support!

#kpop smut #smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #fanfiction #eunbi smut

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jarofstyles · 7 months ago

Text

Appetency 2

Welcome to the other half of Appetency 🫶 I left it off wholesome, so I’ll give you the smut you deserve now lol. Thank you for such a good reception to it, I had no idea you guys would like them this much!

Part One

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WC- 8.9k

Warnings- smut, penetration and oral (both receiving) unprotected sex, soft Dom H, cum play, cockwarming, etc etc etc

Harry was warm.

After he had eaten and changed, he lounged back on her couch, making himself back at home at her place. He’d seemed to have no problem doing that. It had done something to her to see her make the furniture look smaller, but she recollected herself. When he patted his lap, however, she shocked him by crawling onto his thighs and sitting across them.

Back again, she was wrapped up in his arms as one of his hands dragged up and down her bare waist while the other sat leisurely on her hip.

He slid his hands down to her thighs, his palms warm against her bare skin. He loved having her like this, perched on his lap like a precious toy he could play with whenever he wanted. She hadn’t seemed to mind the manhandling as he shifted their positions, a giggled squeal all the protest she let out.

He pulled her closer, his body pressed up against hers. His hands continued to roam over her bare waist and brushed over the waistband of those stupid pants that had been working him up the whole night. Of course he’d been behaving the best he could, but the promise of kissing had held him to it. "You're feeling pretty naughty tonight, aren't you?"

“No.” She grinned, face completely opposing what her words said. “I just… I dunno.” She looked down to his chest. “You work out a lot, huh?”

Harry's smile widened as he felt her gaze shift to his chest. He was feeling rather smug, having her sitting in his lap like this after where they’d started. His hands slid further up her thighs, his fingertips tracing small circles against her warm fabric. "Yeah, I work out a lot. Do you like it?" he asked, trying to keep from feeling smug.

“Yeah. You’re just… I don’t know how to describe it. I feel safe with you like this. And I like when you hold me.”

Harry's smile softened at her words, the playfulness melding into true fondness. Of course he loved that she felt safe in his arms, and he loved that she even admitted it. It was a vulnerability in its own way, one that she hadn’t given him much of prior. He wrapped his arms further around her waist, shifting so that she was even tighter against his strong chest. "I like holding you, too." He murmured, his voice soft and low but audible over the TV.

It was hard to muster up the nerve to ask outright, but the ball was in her court. He had given her control in that regard and he wasn’t going to do anything without her saying so, but she could feel him looking at her lips. He’d been staring most of the night. “I think…” She’d been thinking all night, really. For days. But he didn’t know that part. “I think we should kiss. I think you’ve been really nice to me tonight and you deserve a reward for it.”

Harry's heart rate quickened at her words. He had been holding himself back for days, respecting the desire to go as slow as she needed to go. But now, hearing her actually say that she wanted him to kiss her was like a dream. Hands cupped her face, gently tilting it up to look at him. His eyes were darkened with a mixture of desire and affection as he looked down at her pretty face. "I think you're right." He murmured, his voice husky as he took the time to observe her the way he wanted.

Harry's thumb brushed across her lower lip, his touch gentle and yet solid. He had been craving the feeling of her lips against his, and now that it was about to happen, he could barely contain himself. The man had been so good, and now he was getting exactly what he needed. Good things came to people who wait, he was finding out.

It was slow as he leaned in, closing the distance between them. His lips found hers in a soft, slow kiss. It was gentle, tentative at first, as if he were afraid of going too fast and scaring her off. But as she responded, he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into her sweet mouth to taste her the way he’d been desperate for.

Her response was all the encouragement Harry needed to let go of his restraint.

His tongue explored her, tangling with hers in a passionate kiss. He wanted more, needed more, and the feel of her perfect body pressed against his was driving him wild. It was something he’d been essentially edged on after the memory of how perfect it had been the first time, and it brought him right back. He shifted, pulling her up so that she was straddling him so he could have better access to those lips he’d been daydreaming about.

“Is this okay?” He paused to ask her, panting against her lips. “You’re alright?”

“Mhm.” She nodded with her eyes still closed, her nose brushing against his. “I’m so good. Keep kissing me.” The manhandling had made her want to scream in the best way. He’d handled her like a doll, and she loved every single second. For someone who was so loving of control in her life, it felt incredible to let him take the lead. Let him physically move her where he wanted, kiss her how he craved.

Sure, she knew they should probably be slower. Warm up, show more restraint, but she didn’t want to. She wanted him to kiss her like he wanted to. While he had been edged- so had she.

With confirmation, he captured her lips in another deep kiss, his tongue sliding against hers as he devoured her. It was clear that he wanted her. He wanted her so badly it was almost painful.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly on accident. She went to apologize, but there was quickly shown there to be no need. The response had been him letting out a low groan against her mouth, a surprise reaction. He’d liked his hair played with, but she’d not expected the hair pulling thing with him.

Harry was lost in the feel of her lips against his, that softness of her body pressed flush against his chest. But as soon as she pulled on his hair, the sensation sent a bolt of pleasure through his body. He let out a low groan, his hands flexing on her. He hadn't expected to love the feeling of fingers tangled in his hair so much, but there was something about it that had him feeling desperate for another taste.

"Do that again." he growled, the words low and needy. “Tug.”

Y/N needed no second command, repeating the action and feeling her tummy heat up as she watched his head fall back, face paint with pleasure as she tightened her grip. It was hot, so hot that she knew that she wanted to keep seeing him like this. “Yeah?” She whispered, letting her other hand run her nails over his scalp. “You like that?”

Another low moan fell from Harry's lips as she repeated the action, his head falling back against the couch and his eyes fluttering shut. He loved the way she was teasing him, the momentary spark of pain her fingers tugging in his hair sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him. "God, yes." he hissed, his voice dark and rough. "Keep doin’ that."

Harry's body shuddered as she continued to tease, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her against him. The sensation of her touch was driving him wild, and he let out another low moan. His body was taut with tension, and he was clearly struggling to keep himself contained. “Fuck, baby.”

Y/N knew she was the one who said they had to behave, but that was before this. Before she was reminded how good he could kiss, how good his hands felt on her body, how gorgeous he was when she made him feel good.

Why had she wanted slow again?

Her poor core ached and she could feel him thickening underneath her, so she decided to give them both a little relief. Rolling her hips, she rubbed herself against the hardness that had grown obvious underneath her, lips pressing over his jaw as she continued tugging his hair.

Harry's eyes darkened as she rolled her hips against him. He couldn't help but push back against her, trying to get more friction. The man let out a low moan as she continued to rub herself against him, the lips on the sensitive spot on his neck, the feeling driving him wild. "God, you're driving me insane." he growled, his voice thick with desire. He tilted his head back, giving her better access to his throat. "Don't stop."

Letting out another low groan in his throat as she continued to roll her hips against him, he watched as she rubbed herself against his thickening length. “Fuck, that feels so good.” He urged, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he lifted his hips up to meet her own.

Harry was beautiful like this. Head tilted back against the couch, hands on her hips as he guided her against his thickening cock, the rocking nudging her clit each time through her thin leggings.

“Harry…” she whispered. “I know I said we should go slow… but this feels so good.” Her forehead pressed against his as she breathed him in, feeling his cock twitch under her.

The man groaned in agreement, his hips grinding up to meet hers as she rolled them against him.” I know what you mean…” he panted, his breathing heavy as he felt her clit through the thin fabric of her leggings. "I jus’ don't want to rush this..."

“Me either, but…” Pressing herself down harder, she let out a weak gasp, feeling all of her mental walls start to crumble. Part of her briefly wondered if she’d regret going past this, but she knew she wouldn’t. Harry had been proving himself time and time again as the days had gone on, never once complaining seriously about the speed she had asked to go… and their sex prior had been so good it was coming back in waves every time she thought about it. “God, I missed you touching me like this.”

He moaned at the feeling of her grinding down against him harder, the feeling almost too much to handle. "You were the one who wanted to take things slow... but fuck, you're making it so hard." he groaned, thrusting up against her as she mentioned missing his touch.

"Fuck, you're so hot..." he laughed under his breath as he continued to rock his hips up against hers, the friction from the movement starting to become unbearable. It felt too good, and he knew if he didn’t stop he could easily orgasm just like this.

It was when her hands tugged at his hair again, he finally lost the battle. Self control slipping, a loud groan escaped his lips as he thrust up against her, the movement causing their clothing to bunch up between them a little. "Fuck, baby… Please, like that. Kiss me" He cursed out, lips connecting with hers again.

Y/N let out a weak moan, let him move her on top of him. Their clothing was evil, she thinks. Evil and downright rude for keeping her from feeling him completely. The notion of slow, the mere thought of getting off of his lap had her whimpering into his mouth, grinding back against him the best she could. “You’re in control. It’s your turn.” she whispered. “I trust you.”

The words "I trust you" sent a surge of power through Harry. He felt like he had conquered something he’d been yearning after for ages, and finally getting the permission to show her just how much he wanted her. Gently pushing her back, he broke the kiss to look at her. His eyes were filled with adoration as he spoke. "Good girl... Y’can always trust me."

With a gentle smile, Harry carefully moved, lifting Y/N with him in his arms, laughing at the squeak of surprise as he shifted her on his lap, smoothing out her hair as he looked at her. "How far do you want this to go?” His cock was throbbing with need, but he wanted a limit before he indulged.

“All the way. Everything.” Y/N knew what she said, she knew she had been the one to pause all physical things between them but just a singular taste had reminded her of the immense chemistry between them. It was no wonder they had such an intense relationship before- even if it was negative. Passion had always been there- it just needed to be channeled a different way. “You can touch me however you want. I need it.” Her hand reached for his wrist. “Need you.”

Harry's heart skipped a beat at her words. He was drowning in desire for her- it would be a pleasant death. Slowly he let his his hand wrap around her wrist and brought it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles softly before speaking "Okay, Angel... I'll give you everything you need."

With a hand curled around her waist, he whispered in her ear, "This gonna be a fuckin' experience." He took her mouth in a deep kiss, tongue sliding against hers.

With her hand in his, he helped her move from her position to sit higher on top of him, groaning at the view he had been blessed with. Her little crop top exposing her tummy, leggings clinging to her legs, he couldn’t get enough. His hand settled on her waist as a slow smirk stretched across his lips. Looking her over, he let out a sigh, nose brushing against hers as he got closer. "Fuck, you're gorgeous, baby. M’gonna have so much fun with you ..."

Harry’s hands slipped further up her top, letting their breathing mingle as he approached her ribs- only to find the lack of bra. He’d been unsure if it was just a thin one, having seen her nipples hardened against the cotton, but it was abundantly clear that she had forgone the undergarment entirely.

Letting out a ragged breath, he couldn't help himself as he explored the lack of bra with his own hands. "Fuck, baby... no bra today?" His fingers grazed against the nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from her. He wanted more.

“No.” She whispered, breathing quickening as he brushed his thumbs rubbed back and forth over the hardened buds. It was surprising considering she wasn’t usually very sensitive with them, but something about the way he was touching them… maybe just him in general. it had her feeling hot, itching to get it off. “Take it off. please.”

Harry could feel her body temperature rising, heating up as he played with the nipples. It was unreal, finally getting to touch her again. The way she pleaded for it had his dick twitching in his pants, anticipation running through him. He took a deep breath, the words “please” leaving her lips had him inching his fingers up her sides before he hooked them in the soft blue fabric. Carefully, he trailed them up, past her ribs and up and over her tits before tugging onto the fabric and pulling it over her head, exposing her chest for his eager, hungry eyes.

His eyes widened as he took in the sight of her bare tits, the soft, smooth skin and the hardened nipples standing out. They were beautiful. There was no hesitation as he cupped them into his hands, letting out a shaky sigh at the feel of them. It was even better than his memory of them. He loved how they fit perfectly in his palms and how they bounced when he moved them…. They were exactly what he wanted.

“Do you like them?” Y/N could tell he did just by how he was staring, almost like he was in pain- But she wanted to hear it from him. His hands cupping them, warm and large, she ached for more. For his mouth, for him to play with her nipples, something. Anything. “Don’t know if you remembered them from last time…”

Harry's hands gently squeezed around her tits, his thumbs rubbing over the nipples in a slow, maddening circle. "I remember every fucking detail, baby," He whispered, his voice husky with desire. "These perfect tits, how they fit in my hands, how they look when you move f’me..."

Without warning, he lowered his head and suckled her right nipple into his mouth, the sensation enough to make her cry out, before letting go with a soft ‘pop’. "You taste so damn good, everywhere." His voice vibrated against her skin, barely pulling back.. Harry's mouth wrapped around her nipple again, his tongue swirling around it in circles before he suckled harder, his cheeks hollowing out as he pulled on the sensitive bud. He released it with a satisfied hum and moved to her other nipple, giving it the same treatment, his fingers tweaking and rolling the other one.

“Oh, fuck.” Y/N dragged out the curse, fingers returning to his hair as she sat up in his lap to give him better access to her. It hadn’t felt this good before, a new sensation to her as she pulled him in slightly into her plush chest. “That feels so fucking good.”

Harry groaned at the feeling of her soft tits pressed against his face, her fingers threading through his hair and pulling him closer. "Glad you like it," he said, before returning his attention to her nipple, sucking on it with more fervor this time.

Harry's hands were in constant motion, squeezing and massaging her breasts and teasing her nipples between his fingers. He was worshiping them, showing her just how much he loved them and how much he had missed them.

The man was honestly in heaven as he worshiped her tits, his tongue tracing the outline of her breast and his fingers tweaking and pinching her nipples. He couldn't get enough of them and he could spend hours just loving on them, but he knew they had other things to do. He would very much ensure he had hours dedicated just to her breasts later on down the line.

“Shit, baby.” Harry whispered against her skin, kissing up her clavicle. “You are perfect… but I know you need some more from me. Don’t you?” Fingers slipped down between them, cupping her poor, hot cunt through her leggings. “Oh.. my poor baby. S’aching, isn’t it?” Harry's cock throbbed as he kissed his way up her neck, his fingers teasing her through her leggings. He knew she needed some release and he was going to be the one to give it to her. "Do you want me to take these off, princess?"

“Yeah.” She mewled, rocking her hips against his hand. it was firm and his grip was solid, oddly arousing for her as he shifted his other hand from her breast to the waistband of her leggings. Taking the hint when he patted her hip, she stood in front of him to let him take them off. “Do it.”

Harry grinned at her eagerness and wasted no time sliding her leggings down her legs, revealing her bare, soaking wet pussy. "Fuck, Me," he growled, taking in the sight of her. “Jesus… did you just say ‘fuck it’ to all your underwear?” The minx wasn’t wearing panties, either. “Planned on doing this to me? Makin’ me lose my damn head and wanted me t’get my hands on this perfect cunt?”

Chuckling at her coy little smile in response, he got his answer. Of fucking course, she did. "I personally didn't plan on this happening, but I'm not complaining." He leaned in and kissed her tummy, his hands roaming her body. He broke the string of kiss and whispered against her silky skin. "You're perfect. Don’t think I can say it enough."

He took her in his arms again, his hard cock pressing against her bare wetness. Carefully, he lifted her off the ground and adjusted her to lay on the sofa, spreading her thighs out for him to get a good look at the glistening cunt he was about to get his hands on again.. His mouth nearly watered as he took her in, the slick little slit and groomed thatch of hair on her mouth. “Mm… I like this.” He ran his fingers over it.

“Harry.” Y/N whimpered, desperation coating the word. Making him wait hadn’t just effected him- no. She had edged herself, too. She was just as desperate for him to touch her, devour her with his mouth like he did so liberally with his eyes. “Please��”

“So polite.” He crooned, nose running over her mound. “Since y’have manners… let me take a taste of this.” With a low, hum of appreciation Harry’s head dipped fully between her thighs. He let out hot breaths against her folds before using his thumbs to spread her open. His tongue flicked out and lapped at her clit, making Y/N’s hips buck off the sofa with the sudden pleasure. Harry laughed against her wet heat but didn’t stop- He had only just gotten started. He lavished her cunt, worshiping every inch as if it was a religious experience.

Harry’s tongue flicked out, tracing her clit with a gentle touch before he sucked it into his mouth. Y/N couldn't help the way she moaned as his suction intensified, making her slowly grind her hips up against his face. She was making a mess of him, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. Even more so, he hummed happily against her clit, the sound of soft sucking filling the room. He was being gentle with it, but there was no doubt of who was running this show.

Harry spread her thighs even wider, baring the sweetest part of Y/N to his hungry mouth and roaming eyes as he began to properly eat her out. His tongue lapped at the plump glands of her labia, lathering the delicate skin with heavy strokes. His eyes were almost glazed over with his own pleasure, as if eating her out was a euphoria in itself. When he switched to sucking at her clit again, it was with even more vigor, and his tongue sucked and darted messily against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Y/N's back arched off the sofa, her fingers tangled in Harry's hair as she held him against her throbbing cunt. She was making the whiniest, most desperate sounds as she rode his face, her juices dripping down his chin and neck as he sucked and licked at her clit with reckless abandon.

Her eyes rolled back in pleasure, her head thrown back as she moaned so loud she would be embarrassed if she was in her right mind and not in the depths of being licked out better than she had ever experienced. Her entire body trembled with need, hips bucking wildly as Harry continued his onslaught of wet and sloppy kisses all over her clit. The man looked up at her, his face drenched in her with pure lust in his eyes, his chin all wet and shiny and dripping. “You’re so beautiful.” he mumbled, swiping his tongue across his lips to taste her.

She couldn’t help it. Y/N reached for his face, pulling him up to kiss him. She didn’t care about the mess, tasting herself on him, anything- she just needed the intimacy.

Harry happily obliged her, kissing her back with messy passion, sliding his tongue into her mouth to mingle their tastes. His wet cunt-soaked fingers trailed down her body and slipped between her thighs, slipping one inside of her entrance. Gently, he thrust his finger inside her, loving the way she moaned against his lips, still fucking her needy pussy with slow, steady strokes as he kissed her.

Harry pulled back slightly, plunged another finger into her wet, molten heat, and watched with rapt attention as she cried out, bucking her hips hungrily. Every single moment of this was a fantasy come to life. He hooked his finger upwards, finding her spot, swollen and tender with need for attention. “There you go, sweetheart. Work that pussy on my fingers.”

Y/N laughed in disbelief. Why had she waited for this? Her own fingers had absolutely nothing on him. His were thicker, longer, reaching where she couldn’t. In any other scenario, she’d be embarrassed by the squelching, how wet he was getting her, but from the pride on his face she really couldn’t.

Harry smirked as she writhed, hips moving into his hand as she whined against his mouth.. He knew he was good, but he didn’t realize how much different this would feel with someone he actually liked- someone he cared about. He loved how she moaned, gasping, how her cheeks got deliciously hot. When he took his hand away, he was surprised as she released a disappointed whine.

“No…” She pleaded. “I was so close.”

Harry shook his head, pulling away from the kiss. He was still fully clothed, and he didn’t like it. “No, no, baby- I want you to be close when you cum for me.” He murmured against her lips before sitting back further and stripping down completely. Dragging his shirt over his head, he smirked as she looked over his tattooed torso. “Waited for this, m’not gonna have you cumming unless its around my cock.”

Her mouth dropped open slightly, as she watched him strip. He was so much more than she imagined in all the right ways. The way his muscles rippled, the way his tattoos peeked out with intricate pictures and patterns, swirling and dancing across every part of him. Of course she had seen him before, she knew he was attractive, but with all her walls down and her attraction for him now in the open, she was seeing him for the first time unfiltered.

Their last hookup had been quick, mostly clothing on, so this was new. She’d seen his arms, she had glimpses of his tattoos from those slutty shirts he wore barely buttoned, but seeing it in all its glory was incredible. The tattoos that decorated his hips, leading towards his groomed pubic hair and base of his cock as he slowly pulled the shorts down- god, he was gorgeous.

He didn’t miss her observations at all.

Harry smirked, knowing exactly where her eyes had landed. “See somethin’ you like, baby?” He questioned, letting his shorts fall to the floor completely, leaving him fully nude in front of her. His cock was already straining towards her. It cock was long and thick, with a girth that made it look almost intimidating. None of her toys were as big as him, that was for sure. She could recall how stretched she had felt last time, but seeing it in the light had her mouth watering. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to take it, but she was going to try.

She could see every vein in his shaft, pulsating from the tip to the base. The head was slightly flushed, a bead of precum already forming at the tip. Never had she considered a dick pretty before, but there was a first time for everything. Her eyes traveled upwards along every crevice of his toned core as she drank him in. Harry truly was gorgeous. “Love when you look at me like that, sweet girl.” Holding it in his hand, he gave the base a squeeze while his other hand stroked over the top of her head, smoothing out her hair. “Why don’t you give it a kiss, hm? You’ve been thinking about it. haven’t you?”

Harry let out a hum at her small ‘yes’ taking it as his sign to move forward. He took a small step closer to her, tapping the tip against her lips, smearing a little of his precum onto them. He chuckled, moving his hand to the back of her head and gripping her hair to tilt her head back.

Her breath stuttered, her lips parting slightly as she felt the precum smearing over her lips. Rubbing her thighs together to try and soothe the ache between them, she felt herself get hotter as he moved the tip of his cock over her lips. Ever so gently, her lips puckered and pressed to the tip. A soft kiss to his aching length, followed by another, and another, slowly trailing down as her eyes stayed on his face.

Harry's head rolled back momentarily at the gentle touch, his grip on her hair tightening slightly as he watched her kiss the tip of his cock like it was the most precious thing in the world. He let out a shaky breath, his other hand coming up to gently stroke her cheek as she kissed down his length.

“Like this?” she murmured against him, leading her kisses down to the base of his prick. “Is this what you like, H?”

"Fuck, yes," Harry groaned, his voice strained. "Just like that, princess. Keep kissing it like that. So sweet t’me." He looked down at her, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and adoration as she peppered kisses along his shaft. He couldn't believe how fucking good she was being. It was rewarding to have gone from her sneering and snapping at him to finally having the sweet girl he knew laid underneath that thick skin come to the surface for him. To have her trust this way, to have her eager to please him… it was a gift in and of itself.

Gently guiding her head back up to the tip, his precum starting to leak out and drip onto her lips. "Open your mouth, my good girl." He gently pushed the tip past her lips, the precum smearing her her lips again to make the prettiest picture imaginable. As he pushed further, he made sure to go slow, giving her time to adjust to the size. He watched in awe as her lips stretched around his girth, his heart racing with anticipation.

She didn’t stop him, hands settling on the back of his thighs as she urged him to continue. He continued to push his cock deeper into her mouth, the tip of it hitting the back of her throat. His grip on her hair tightened slightly as he took control of the pace. He could feel her gagging a little, but she didn't try to pull away. “S’that okay, baby?” He checked on her, slowly inching himself back. “Gotta tap my thigh if y’need me to stop, okay? Don't want to hurt you, yeah?”

“Mhm.” She nodded her head, catching her breath. Giving head usually wasn’t one of her favorite things but this… giving Harry head? It was actually nice. The weight of him on her tongue and his affection as he guided himself in, she felt appreciated. Yeah, it was a struggle- her jaw was going to ache- but it was going to be a reminder to her of how good she had made him feel.

He smiled at her reaction, his thumb brushing against her cheek one more time as he pushed back in slightly. “Good.” He praised, watching as she swallowed him down again. The way she gave into him was satisfying on a whole other level. “I know it’s big, but you’re doing perfect.”

Her hot mouth was a perfect fit for his thick cock. He was kicking himself for not getting his shit together earlier. He could have had her for much longer. Granted, all it took was one hook up for him to get his ass in gear. She was powerful that way.

She sucked on him eagerly, her lips wrapping around his girth and her tongue swirling around the head as she got into it on the pull back. It was something else, feeling her true desire for him put into physical action. The sound of her sucking and slurping filled the room, making Harry's eyes roll back in his head.

She felt so incredibly wet, she wouldn’t be surprised if she was staining the sofa. Harry's cock was making her drool in the best way. While she had her fears about being able to take it, his thick cock was a welcomed challenge, touching new spots in her throat. Enjoying giving head was still a new sensation, but seeing him throw his head back and hiss between his teeth as she let herself gag around him was even more arousing than she could have ever anticipated.

His reactions were everything she could have asked for and more. The way his eyes would roll back in his head, the way his breath would hitch in his throat, the way he would grunt and curse under his breath. It was all so fucking hot. She loved seeing him lose control like this, loved knowing that she was the one causing it. “Shit.” He grunted, watching her take him down the best she could. “Baby… it’s time to pull off. I need t’be inside of you.”

With a groan, he reached down to push her off, his cock soon popping out with a lewd trail of saliva and precum connecting from him to her lips. Her tongue stayed out, laying flat as he looked down at her with furrowed brows, lightly tapping the slick tip against the pink. “You are so fucking filthy, baby. Never expected this out of you.”

“I have a lot more where that came from.” Her grin was sly, spit dribbled down her chin as he pulled his cock away from her face. Her poor cunt was dripping, aching, desperate. The man had already edged her, and she needed him inside of her in a primal way. “Where do you want me?”

He chuckled darkly, his eyes raking over her soaked face and hair before landing on her needy cunt. “Laid back on the fucking couch, legs spread wide. I want to see that pretty little pussy of yours while I stretch you open.” His thumb brushed some of the spit from her chin, helping her up as she shakily laid herself down onto the cushions.

Panting heavily, he settled between her wide spread thighs, one hand supporting his weight while the other gripped his cock. He gave it a few strokes, eyes never leaving her cunt as he spat into his palm then coated himself in it.

His cock was a beautiful sight, thick and long with a prominent vein running along the underside as it laid against her swollen cunt. He gave it a few more pumps, smacking the fat head against her clit with a lewd smack. "Fuck, look at that, baby. My cock, against your little pussy. S’right where it should be, isn’t it?”

“Mhm.” Her eyes hooded, she looked like the picture of eroticism that he’d not anticipated. It blew his expectations out of the watch, seeing how beautiful she looked splayed out underneath him.

“I’m sorry for making you wait.”

He snorted, giving his cock another few pumps before guiding the tip against her soaked entrance. "Shut up, baby. You don’t have t’be sorry. I know what this means to you… and I hope you know it means the same to me.” His soft voice took on an edge, though, as his smirk turned mischievous. “I’d have waited as long as it took, But M’sure we’re gonna make up for lost time. aren’t we?”

“Yeah…” She nodded, feeling his body as he leaned over her. She felt safe, even with his taunt. Honestly? The safest she had ever felt during something like this. More eager than overthinking, that’s how she knew this was perfect- That she was making the right decision.

Grinning, he gave her a little squeeze before giving it to her. Harry slowly pushed his cock forward, inch by inch, until it was seated completely inside her. He hissed out a breath, pausing so he could gather his bearings before he started moving, the both of them perfectly still as he rested his forehead against hers.

Harry took his time with as he gave her a kiss, savoring it. It was slow and laced with the passion he’d been keeping under wraps, his lips pressed against hers gently but firmly, opening up to her tentatively before delving in completely. He could feel her chest rising and falling rapidly as she panted, feeling the same desperate need he did. Once he broke the kiss, he brushed her sweaty hair away from her face, beaming down at her and humming in pleasure to get her taste on his lips. "My god, you're perfect.” he praised, his voice husky and soft, full of awe.

"It was worth the wait.” He whispered, his eyes shining as he gazed at her. He leaned in to press another tender kiss to her lips before pulling back slightly to look at her again. “You're so fucking beautiful when you're waiting for me, good girl."

“Harry…” She pleaded, nails lightly digging into his shoulder as he ground himself into her, not yet thrusting. “I’m so full.” His cock filled her up to the brim in the best way possible.

Harry's breath caught as her nails lightly dug into his shoulder, making his cock twitch inside of her. He pressed a kiss to her neck and sighed in contentment. "I know, sweet girl," he murmured against her skin. “Do y’need some more?”

“Please. I can take it, I promise.” It was a need, now. Her cunt clenched around him, not fully adjusted but she didn’t care in the slightest. All she wanted was to feel him thrusting inside of her. Giving her what they both had been craving, the thing she had been holding them back from. All gloves were off now, and she wanted to feel every bit of it.

Harry groaned at her pleading, his hips moving of their own accord as he slowly began to thrust into her, each movement calculated as he started to claim her cunt as his own. He set a slow, steady pace, giving her what she needed as he looked down at her with hungry eyes. "I've been waiting for this for so fucking long, Y/N," Harry told her softly, his breath hot against her skin. His eyes searched hers, affection and pure desire shining in his gaze as he gave her exactly what she needed: him. “Longer than you even know. That one time?” He shook his head. “Just that taste was enough t’make me want to change my whole life. Wanted t’have all of you, all the time.”

He continued to thrust into her, each movement sending waves of pleasure through both of them. "Every day since then, I've thought about you, dreamed about you," he confessed, his voice trembling with emotion. "Wanted to be inside you so badly, to feel your tight little cunt squeezing my cock. Get as close as I could possibly be."

As he spoke, he picked up his pace slightly, his thrusts becoming a bit more urgent. "I've wanted to fuck you in every room of this house, in every bar, at every party- fuck, even the in the store, I wanted you. You don’t even know… Baby, look what you’re doing to me.” He growled, his hips moving deep and thorough against hers now.

Y/N looked up at him with hazy, lust-filled eyes, her mouth parted slightly as she panted for air. Her nails dug into his back as he continued to thrust into her, her body completely at his mercy as he took what he wanted from her.

As he fucked her, Harry's body was a beautiful mess of muscles and tattoos. His dark curly hair stuck to his sweaty forehead in messy strands as he rutted into her, hips moving with an enthusiasm that showed on his face. Harry's eyes were bright with pleasure - the same pleasure he was taking from Y/N. He could be so obnoxious and pushed the buttons outside the bedroom, but as he fucked her he was raw and unfiltered, all hard lines and moans and whispers of dirty words.

He whispered filthy praises into her ear as he fucked her, his hot breath making her shiver. "You're so fucking good for me. So fucking perfect. My sweet girl taking my big cock so well. You were made for me, weren't you?" His nose brushed her damp skin tenderly. As his words got sweeter, Harry's hand slid up her neck to gently wrap around it, never squeezing- just lightly putting pressure on her. It was a reminder of who owned her in this moment - and the words that followed only reinforced that fact. "Good girl for me. So fucking perfect."

Y/N's reaction was one of pure bliss. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear and gently wrapped his hand around her throat. She felt so delicate and safe in his arms, completely at his mercy as he fucked her and praised her. being fucked by him was the best she had ever had. His cock was thick and heavy, stretching her cunt to its limits as he fucked her. The head of his dick pressed against her most sensitive spot with every thrust, making her see stars. She could feel every ridge and vein as he moved in and out of her, the culmination of it all driving her mad.

She needed more. Falling into the primal headspace, the pleasure overwhelming her, she pleaded for more. “H-Harder.” she said breathlessly. “Give it to me, H.”

Harry's grip on her throat tightened slightly, his other hand reaching down to grip her hip and pull her onto his cock harder. He slammed into her, his balls slapping against her ass with loud smacks. "Fuck, you want it harder? You want my cock wrecking this perfect cunt?" His grin was slightly feral, something she had experienced during their hookup. This was the familiar part, his roughness. “Want me t’own it, baby?”

“Yes.” It came out as a squeak, hand holding his wrist as it held her firmly. “It’s yours. M’all yours.”

Who was he to say no when she asked so nicely?

Harry's thrusts became harder at her plea, his hips pounding into hers as he watched her tits bounce with every slam. He could see her hands gripping the couch, her head thrown back in pleasure. This was all he could have asked for. "Say it again..." He growled, his own body losing control.

“I wanna be yours. I wanna-“ Her eyes watered as she felt her orgasm cresting, building as he tightened his fingers at the spots on her throat to give her that head rush. Doing his best to give her what she wanted.

His fingers tightened at her throat, cutting off some oxygen as he felt her cunt clenching around him, a sign she was close to cumming. He kept his pace, the slick sloppy sound of her cunt getting fucked fueling him on. "Cum for me, baby." he crooned. “Give it t’me, my girl. show me.”

Her orgasm was a slow burn that started at her toes, creeping up her body until it took hold of her senses. Her hands gripped the couch so tightly her knuckles turned white. She tightened around his cock, her walls milking him as her pleasure washed over her. It started hot, making her legs quiver uncontrollably. She could feel herself tightening around his cock, her walls contracting and releasing around him repeatedly as he kept thrusting into her in a hard rhythm.

As she rode out her orgasm, Harry praised her nonstop, his words a steady stream of affectionate praises. It’s what she deserved, only the best. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight when you cum. Look at you, trembling for me, my good girl. You're so perfect, baby. So fucking perfect." His lips connected to hers, the thick, deep thrusts continuing. “Do you think you can give me another one? Hm?”

Y/N's reaction was one of complete surrender. She was giving herself over to him, finally giving in to her innermost desires. The ones she had been holding off for far too long as he proved he truly wanted her. She couldn't speak, could only manage to nod her head frantically as Harry asked if she could give him another one.

As she came down from her intense orgasm, Harry took a second to appreciate the beautiful sight before him. Her cunt was a perfect mix of them, soaking wet and clenching his cock tightly in a few different places as aftershocks of pleasure ran through her body. Her folds were puffy and shiny wet, swollen from the rough use and deep fucking he had given her. A mixture of their juices covered the length of his shaft as he continued to look down at their connection.

Harry could feel his own orgasm building, his balls tightening and his cock pulsing with each thrust. But he knew he couldn't let himself cum yet, not until he had her reaching another orgasm first. He needed to make sure she was completely spent before he allowed himself the release he so desperately craved.

His thumb found her swollen clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles as he continued to pound into her. The little nub was throbbing under his touch, desperate for attention. He rubbed roughly, applying just the right amount of pressure to make her see stars. “C’mon, my baby. Give it t’me. Was mean and took one away before, I know… let me give you another one before I cum.”

“Harry, Harry-“ she didn’t get a break. from her orgasm he was hell bent on getting her there a second time. The thrusts were hard and his thumb rubbing at her clit, her sensitive cunt couldn’t take much more. “M’gonna… again.” she babbled. “S’almost there. it’s, I love it. Love it, Harry.” She rambled, pleasure overwhelming her.

“That’s it, princess. Let it happen. I wanna feel you come apart on my cock again.” Harry cooed, his own orgasm right behind hers. He rubbed her clit mercilessly, his thumb moving in lightning fast circles as he fucked deep. Give it t’me again, you can do it.”

Y/N’s whole body tensed again, shaking and trembling as a second, even more intense orgasm hit her. Truly, she wasn’t sure her first had ever stopped. She cried out, her back arching off the bed, her nails digging into Harry’s back.

Harry's orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, his balls drawing up tight as he pulled out of her and painted her swollen cunt in hot ropes of pearly cum. He shot ribbon after ribbon all over her pussy, coating her lips, her clit, and the sensitive folds inside. It dripped down her thighs, pooling on the fabric beneath her. They’d need to get that professionally cleaned, but it didn’t matter. Harry pumped his hips forward into his hand, ensuring every last drop of his load covered her. “Fuck… shit, baby.” he keened, milking every drop out of his cock as his mouth stayed slack, breathing fast. Her body laid limp, gaze lulled at she looked up at him, taking every bit he fave her. Her eyes were glazed over, her breath coming in soft pants as she looked down at the mess Harry had made of her. She could feel the warm, sticky cum coating her folds, dripping down her, making a mess that she hadn’t fully anticipated. It was so much, more than she had ever seen before. She should’ve known- everything with him was.

As soon as he finished, Harry immediately moved to gather her into his arms, holding her close and whispering praise and affection into her hair. "You are incredible. So fucking good. Look at what a mess I made of you." he cooed, brushing the sweaty hair from her forehead. it didn’t matter that they were sticky with sweat, he was going to tend to her.

Maybe it was a bit much, but she whined slightly. The empty feeling… it wasn’t what she wanted. “Back inside. please.” She peeped. Harry lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist as he settled back, snug inside her. He took a sharp breath as his softening prick giving a weak twitch while the warmth enveloped him. "You are so fucking good to me, so beautiful. I want to worship you, make you feel so good.. You have no idea." He murmured, kissing her gently.

With her sitting on his lap, Harry's arms wrapped around her, holding her close to him, his hands gently caressing her back and hips. He was so tender with her, almost reverent in the way he touched her, as if she were something precious that could break at any moment.

Gentle words were whispered to her, letting their heart rates calm. It didn’t matter that they were a mess, that they needed to clean up, that they were sweaty and sticky. Y/N felt the most satiated she had ever experienced, safe and warm in his arms as he rubbed her back and caressed her cheek, like he couldn’t get enough of her. Couldn’t get close enough.

"You are so perfect, you know that? So fucking beautiful," He whispered, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek and down her jaw. The skin was hot to the touch from how flushed her face was from the sex, but it was another reminder that it was real- this had actually happened. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the way she looked at him, like he was everything to her in this moment. Especially after how far they’d shifted from their original dynamic.

There was one other question, though, that he needed to know the answer to. He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as he contemplated the question. He wanted to be her boyfriend so badly, to have her by his side. She said she didn’t want hookups and he’d been working to gain her trust, to show her he wanted more. Hopefully he had proven it enough for her to give it a shot. "Baby... Can I be your boyfriend? Like, officially?" He swallowed, approaching the subject with a gentle caution. It wasn’t like he didn’t know why she had made them wait for this- reflecting back, he had been a prick and didn’t give her any reason to believe he was being serious. But since he’d committed to proving how much he actually wanted her, he could only hope she would understand just how serious he was. “I know m’still proving myself to you, and I understand… but if I can’t call you mine for another day, I think M’gonna lose it.”

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as he asked. She looked at him, really looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, hearing the vulnerability in his voice. She felt the warmth spread through her chest, a feeling of safety and happiness that she had never experienced before. Even though she had been so hesitant about it before, she could feel his change. Had seen it first hand by how he had treated her, how he’d committed to doing everything she’d asked while still showing his personality to her. There had been no sign he had tried to deceive her since asking for this chance, and she couldn’t deny him. She knew he was being genuine and he had done everything he could to give her peace of mind. It was clear that she’d misjudged him in the past, because he was one of the best people she’d grown to know.

“I think we can make that happen.”

The moment she said yes, Harry felt like he was floating on cloud nine. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, he held her close as he buried his face in her hair. "Really?" he whispered as he pulled back to look at her. "Really, really?" He couldn't stop the goofy grin that spread across his face as she confirmed it, nodding her head. He laughed in pure joy, giving her a playful nudge. "Good girl, you said yeah."

“Oh, shut up.” She groaned, giving his shoulder a push. “I can take it back.” She wouldn’t, though. Y/N was far too happy In the moment. Maybe it was the orgasm, the endorphins, the high of being asked to be a girlfriend, but this could be the start of something new coming to fruition. Something she’d pushed away and he’d diligently worked for.

Harry's eyes widened as he fell back into the couch. "No way you're taking it back!" He scoffed grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing the back of each one of her fingers softly before letting go. “Worked too hard for you, miss. You’re mine now. No take backs.”

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afsosville · 7 months ago

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I'm tryna come up with a cute nickname for Shen Jiu and one that doesn't involve 'Jiu'. Anyone's got ideas? I've come out of the woodwork to finally start writing a fic yippee

It's a BingJiu fic where both of them are around the same age and are childhood sweethearts. I've already come up with a nickname that SJ uses for LBH, which is Xiao Lian, meaning little lotus. SJ only uses it in his head, but LBH will definitely pester him with his nickname and use it everywhere!

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bucketbueckers · 2 months ago

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STICK AROUND

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

content: language, fluff, slight injury

wc: 2.3k

synopsis: After an arduous year full of ACL recovery, navigating your new yet inexplicably familiar relationship, and falling back in love with Paige Bueckers (not that you ever fell out of love in the first place), Paige is finally cleared and ready to play basketball again for her senior season.

notes: yes this is the same banner. no comments at this time please! this is part 2 to come around, requested by a few anons (sorry i may have deviated from the request a lil bit) & @janaelalfysloml 🫶 i was not expecting the reception CA got - and also!! 1k notes? wtf???? that's actually insane to me, i get on here to yap and procrastinate my homework, i am so blown away by the love and how many of you guys actually like what i write 😭 i love y'all bad! so here is part 2 in honor of CA surpassing 1k notes and my anons and if you're curious - yes flattery gets you everywhere and this is definitely an open invite to keep sending asks. not proofread! i hope you all enjoy this 🫶

tags: @unadulteratedcyclepaper @avvwritesstufff @surferandskater5 @jnkbueckers

The months between August 2022 and November 2023 were full of ups and downs. This is not to say you were miserable – far from it, in fact. Transferring to UConn from UMN was the best decision you’d ever made in your entire life. You’d made more friends, your grades started improving, and you’d truly felt at home in Connecticut, making a name for yourself in some of their student organizations. It would, however, be wrong to neglect the other, considerably important factor in why your life was turning around for the better.

You and Paige were in a much better place – romantically, platonically, in every facet of being each other’s person. Your communication was a lot better. You learned to be a little more direct, to enunciate exactly how you were feeling. Paige learned patience, which is honestly a miracle in and of itself; she learned that it’s not her sole responsibility to try to protect you from outside noise or make whatever decision is best for you. The both of you had good intentions, but sometimes it’s really easy for those good intentions to get swept up in chaos and unravel before you. The both of you had to remember that you’re not just girlfriends, but you’re partners, too – you’re a team.

The year’s ups and downs weren’t on the two of you. You and Paige had “learning curve” moments as you’d called it, having to sit down and have uncomfortable, vulnerable conversations that left you feeling raw on the inside, but healthier in spite of it. Instead of being on the same page, it was as though you and Paige were the weaving lines and sloping letters, beginning on opposite sides yet meeting in the middle to form words, sentences, stories. You weren’t just there. You were together in a completely new sense, working side-by-side with the sort of ease that comes with fully knowing a person inside and out.

The troubles of the year stemmed more from her knee. Her recovery wasn’t linear. Some days were harder than others and some days were downright hell on earth. It was hardly comparable to the time her high school championship was cancelled due to covid – it was worse. The pain would leave her shuddering in bed, hiccuping through tears and there was only so much you could do. You’d spend countless hours at her side, alternating between the heating pad and the ice pack, helping her swallow her painkillers with water when it got too bad, brushing your fingers through her hair and rambling about everything and nothing to distract her. Once she’d made it out of the post-surgery, pain and soreness phase, her days were full of physical therapy and mental battles that tested the both of you. Some days you didn’t know what to say. Sometimes you wouldn’t say anything at all, letting her cry into your shoulder as you held her. Other days you let her talk for hours on end, entrusting you with the uncomfortable parts of her and the whispered confessions of, “I don’t know how I can trust my body after this.”

Time was what she needed to heal. The both of you knew that. So, you stuck around, knowing that even if Paige was a mess, injured, struggling mentally and physically, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but with her. As the days turn into weeks and the weeks melt into months, she gets better. You knew she would. Watching that light return to her eyes, getting to see that spring in her step, hearing the way her laughter carried across the room was healing for you, too.

As she healed, you studied. You would spend the majority of your time in bed next to her with your textbook sprawled over your lap, her fingers tracing your skin and her chin hooked over your shoulder as she watched you do homework assignments. Your majors couldn’t have been further apart from each other, so admittedly, your time together was spent with Paige asking, “What the fuck is an electrophile?” and you responding with an endeared fondness, “Electro- means negative, -phile means love, so it’s a chemical species that accepts electrons,” followed by Paige huffing and declaring, “Yeah, you got that – you can be the breadwinner and I’ll be your sexy trophy wife.”

Whether she knew it or not, Paige helped you out a lot with your assignments. She kept your head on straight when your assignments got a little overwhelming and forced you to take a break when you were getting grouchy – “It’s what you did for me,” she would remind you, pressing soothing kisses to your cheeks, and murmuring, “You wanna DoorDash take-out?” (and who were you to say no to that?)

So as time passed, Paige recovered, the both of you healed, and by the time November 2023 rolled around, Paige was fully cleared to play basketball again. She’d been ecstatic for the weeks leading up to it, talking your ear off and dragging you to the gym with her even though the two of you fooled around more than she got her shots in. Her happiness was infectious – that was what mattered to you. You knew that she worked hard to get into UConn but you also knew she worked even harder to recover from the kind of injury that tests the resilience of many athletes.

The night before their home opener against Dayton, she revives an age-old tradition that you’d spent years missing. She takes you to Dairy Queen, shooting you an exasperated look over the center console as you teasingly pressed your card into her hand. She pays – she always does – driving off with her ice cream in the cupholder as she focuses on the road and you offer her spoonfuls of the same flavor you’d been ordering since you were both seventeen. Paige serenades you at the red lights, holding your hands and belting out off-key renditions of Keyshia Cole – because that hadn’t changed over the years, either. And when she finally pulls into a secluded parking lot, nothing but the moon and the crickets as your only witness, the two of you joke and ramble and flirt for what only feels minutes but are actually hours.

She still reserves that last bite of ice cream for you, guiding her spoon to your mouth and kissing the remnants off of your lips, relishing in the way your laughter reverberates throughout her Jeep. Paige tastes like vanilla ice cream and happiness, a lingering flavor that’s intoxicating when it mixes with your strawberry and the love for Paige that you’ve kept safe in your beating heart for years. Some things truly never change at all, you think when she rests her warm palm over your thigh as she adjusts her music (and the playlist she has fittingly titled ‘Freaky ass R&B’ with the heart emoji that she uses only for you). Things evolve, and they get better, and they have a way of surprising you in the best way possible, like when Paige gazes at you as you speak, her expression soft with a realization that sounds like I’m going to love you forever and a matching look in your eyes that looks like Forever sounds perfect.

Par for the course, her eyes start drooping around midnight, her movements fluid and her hands perpetually glued to your skin. The two of you talk for a little while longer until she finally blurts, “I have something for you.”

At that, you can only raise your brow, watching her as she leans into the backseat to grab a rectangular, gift-wrapped box. Panic fills your body at the thought that you may have missed an anniversary, but you remind yourself that it’s only November; your official anniversary wasn’t until late December.

She clears her throat, the nervousness reflected in her eyes, and you can’t help but remember how she asked you to be hers for the first time. You’re not seventeen anymore, nor are you in her stepmom’s Honda Pilot, but you’re both twenty-two living a life that feels both new and familiar, basking in a love that you’ve spent your entire life cherishing.

“You can tell me anything,” you remind her, your tone soft, and that’s enough for the tension to ooze out of her shoulders.

She smiles at you, that same smile from the first time she sat down across from you in junior year AP Lit. “I know,” she murmurs. “I just wanna do this right.” Your expression melts into one of understanding. “When I first convinced you to come to one of my games, I gave you my hoodie. I remember Coach lectured me for an hour straight, ‘cause he was all like, ‘Bueckers, the school pays a lot of money for those sweatshirts, and you lost yours!’” You laugh at her imitation of her high school coach. Her eyes shine a little brighter. “Coach wasn’t stupid. I’m sure he knew what actually happened. It was hard to miss you sittin’ in the student section and cheering me on like every bucket was one you made yourself. But, honestly…I didn’t care. I liked being able to look over and see you wearin’ my name and my number. It made me feel like I wasn’t just your best friend, that I was someone you’d want to…you know, do life with. That one day you’d love me in the way I loved you even though I didn’t know it was love yet.”

“So, you came to more of my games,” she continues. “You wore my hoodie. We’d get ice cream after and we’d talk for hours. I still remember that night I almost kissed you on your porch, that afternoon in your bed when I told you we weren’t so far away, that morning when I finally kissed you in the snow, when I asked you to be my girlfriend.” Paige swallows uncomfortably. “I remember when I broke your heart. I thought I was doing you a favor, but I just hurt the both of us. I missed you for two years but I didn’t think you’d ever want me back. So I hid. But we’d text each other happy birthday, and you’d reach out after I’d injured myself. I didn’t think I deserved your attention after what I did. Then I tore my ACL, and despite everything, you came.”

“You called,” you whisper, like it was the simplest thing in the world – because it was. Your heart beats to a cadence that sounds like the dribbling rhythm of a basketball and you know that Paige’s heart beats in tandem with yours. The two of you were so inexplicably intertwined in the fabric of each other’s lives, each other’s hearts, that it was difficult to discern where you began and she ended, but you knew that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Yeah,” Paige agrees, her eyes shining. “I’on care what it takes, you’re stuck with me this time around. I am never letting you go. You’re my past, present, and my future. Which is why I want you to have this.” She gives you a meaningful look and you begin to unwrap the box. When you take the lid off, you can’t stop the smile from growing on your face as you reach in, wrapping your hands around Paige’s zip-up tracksuit hoodie. It has the Husky logo and it smells just like her. You know it’s the school issued one that she wears everywhere. “It doesn’t have my name or my number on it or anything, but I got a little something embroidered on the inside.” Allowing her to guide you, she pulls back the lapel, and on the left side, directly under the Husky logo that rests over your heart, the words “Not impossible. Not for us” are stitched delicately into the fabric. You feel tears prick at your eyes as you laugh softly. “Coach is gonna kill me,” she muses, “but it’s worth it – especially since you’ll be sitting courtside in my hoodie like we’d always talked about.”

Your lip trembles, but you’re smiling widely. “Paige,” you murmur. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll stick around for my games,” she says softly. “See if I’m still good at this basketball thing after taking a year off.”

Despite yourself, you laugh, placing the hoodie back into the box and wrapping your arms around her neck. Her hands find your hips, her lips pressing into your temple, and you both melt into each other with an overwhelming amount of relief. “You know I’m there,” you say. “Always will be.”

Paige squeezes your waist, pulling back far enough to smile at you before her lips find yours, kissing you with a gentleness and a passion that hasn’t gone away, no matter how long you’ve been together or how long you’ll spend looking for each other. Her kiss feels more like a vow of forever, and when she breaks away, whispering something that sounds like an I love you, you promise the same thing.

(You’re courtside at her home opener, as promised. You watch as Geno shakes his head at Paige when he catches her staring at you, mumbling something about these damn kids, but you know that she doesn’t care and you don’t either. She reserves a spot for you at every game, at every team hangout, in that crevice of her heart that you’d tattooed your name on ages ago. Every day, you fall just a little bit further in love with Paige, and one of the things that you know with an absolute certainty is that you’re spending the rest of your life with her.)

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #wbb x reader

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innerfare · 5 months ago

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Apologizing To You

Summary: How do they apologize to you? (Similar to Fighting and Making Up but oh well.)

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Luffy:

You thought it would be more difficult to get Luffy to apologize considering he’s not above bickering and arguing and can be so freaking stubborn. But the thing is, Luffy’s emotional intelligence is through the roof and he always senses when you’re really hurting. That being said, he thinks it’s important for you to say so, so he won’t just do it. If you ask, though, he won’t hesitate. He might even grin and ask you why you took so long.

Zoro:

For the most part, he’s not one to apologize. He’s incredibly stubborn and doesn’t let those words leave his lips easily, to the point you’ve had several arguments that were far bigger than they should have been. He’s a stubborn bastard, and he’s very proud. He’s also opposed to giving gifts as an apology as he thinks that cheapens it. When he does feel the need to apologize, he’ll do so verbally and quite simply (and privately, for his pride); he would really never do anything to you that would require anything beyond that.

Sanji:

You need only ask. Sanji would do anything for you, even swallow his pride. In fact, he’s so quick to apologize, he sometimes tries to speed run the process and might even get his feelings a little hurt if he’s ready to apologize but you’re not ready to accept it yet, but he’s mature enough not to let that turn into another fight. He’s also one to show up outside your window with a bouquet of flowers or another gift to sweeten the deal. He’ll apologize even if you were in the wrong just to jumpstart the making up process.

Ace:

Arguing is tough for him, but so is apologizing- not necessarily because he’s too proud to admit when he’s wrong, but because he’s too scared. He fears admitting that he was wrong will cause you to leave him, and this insecurity can be difficult to navigate. He usually ends up shutting you out rather than rushing over to you to apologize, but once you do approach him, usually offering something to eat as a peace offering, he’ll quickly accept fault and apologize for anything and everything.

Sabo:

Such a sweetheart but also competitive. You’re the only one (except his brothers, maybe) who knows just how attentive and caring Sabo can be, a far cry from the reckless young man who never seems to listen to a word anyone says, and you’re most likely to experience it after a fight. The two of you have a chosen spot- a pink peach tree on Momoiro Island- and it’s usually Sabo who finds himself waiting there (let’s face it, he’s more likely to say something insensitive than you are). He usually apologizes with a sheepish grin and a peach he plucked from the tree.

Law:

Attempting to wring an apology out of him is no good. He has to do it in his own time, and he will, usually no more than two or three days. He prefers to do it under the cover of darkness, without any eyes watching or ears listening except yours, climbing into bed beside you and muttering an apology into your ear, pressing warm kisses into your hand until you melt and are receptive enough to forgive him. Also not opposed to writing an apology on a scrap of paper and slipping it into the book you’ve been reading because he communicates much better that way.

Kid:

Really not one for heartfelt apologies. Also not one to notice he did something wrong. Eventually he’ll notice you’re upset, but only because you haven’t been sitting in his workshop as much, and kicked him when he rolled on top of you in his sleep. But he’s at a complete loss as to why and ends up snapping at you over it. When you tell him what’s wrong, he’ll grunt out an apology and probably propose you work out your frustration on him in a way that’s enjoyable for you both.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #ace x reader #law x reader #sabo x reader #zoro x reader #portgas d ace x reader #luffy x reader #sanji x reader #eustass kid x reader #captain kid x reader #trafalgar law x reader

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gilverrwrites · 10 months ago

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Fake Dating tropes with (some of) the birds and the bats. Ft. Babs, Bruce, Dick, Duke, Jason, Kate, and Tim.

GN!Reader, ≈200-250 words each CWs: None graphic mentions of sex, none-graphic injuries, none -graphic mentions of drugs, intentionally minipulative behaviours.🩷

Barbara

The two of you weren’t exactly not dating. Attached at the hip, making goo-goo eyes in person and inappropriate comments over the comms line when apart; it was obvious to anyone with eyes or ears that something was going on there, you just hadn’t put a name on it yet. It’s something the two of you had made plans to nail down and discuss during your sort of but not really a date-date tonight.

But you had only gone and got yourself shot during what should have been a simple trip to the bank. It wasn’t life-threatening, but you’d been rushed off in an ambulance, you’d need surgery, a lot of meds, and months, if not years of physio to get your arms back into shape.

Barbara didn’t know that at the time though, she’d been panic-stricken from the moment she found out. Emotions getting the better of her, brain running at 100 miles a minute as she rushed to the hospital.

“Partners and family only.” The nurse had told her. And without hesitation, she’d responded: “I am their partner.”

Her lie paid off, allowing her access to your bedside, as well as a full update on your status. There wasn’t another face in any universe you would have rather seen upon waking up from surgery. Now you just had to keep up the appearance of being a married couple until you were discharged, maybe longer.

Bruce

It’s a well-organised and thoroughly thought-out publicity stunt. Bruce needed someone new on his playboy roster, and you needed the media to circulate literally anything other than the less-than-flattering leaks that had been sold to them without your consent.

All you had to do was follow the itinerary. A couple of soft launch social media pics, a few whispers to the looser-lipped socialites of your circles, and some ‘private’ candid photo ops of the two of you dating:

Snuggling under the shade of an oak tree in Gotham Park, wearing matching caps and sunglasses that do little to hide your identities as you read a shared copy of Romeo and Juliet together.

Sitting in his car, in the parking lot of Big Belly Burger, munching on an unseemly large order of burgers and fries together. Nobody questions why the previously tinted windows of Bruce’s car are now clear.

Intimately and provocatively embracing, tastefully half nude on the balcony of your uptown apartment. The press didn’t need to know that you’re actually renting an Airbnb for the weekend, for exactly this purpose, and nothing more.

Everything was carefully planned, right down to the T for maximum impact and minimal effort. The only thing that hadn’t been accounted for was one, or both of you catching feelings in the time you’d spent together.

Dick

He’s never been able to say no to you, you know it, he knows it. So when you ask him in an act of desperation to be your fake-boyfriend for your ex’s wedding he’s quick to inform you that this is the dumbest idea he’s ever heard, and that he’s 110% on board.

He takes you shopping for matching outfits, picks you up on the day in Bruce’s flashiest car, suprises you with something pretty, compliments you loudly and romantically at every chance and won’t take his hands off you all the way through the ceremony. He's attentive and outwardly passionate. Not only is he playing the role of the world's best-ever (fake-)boyfriend, he’s making sure everyone in the vicinity knows you’re a (fake) couple.

It’s during the reception when that funny feeling really starts to settle in. The hairs on edge, butterflies in your belly feeling. Maybe it’s the happy, romantic atmosphere, the soppy music, the way his hands sit so perfectly on your hips as he sways you round and around on the dance floor. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you with those mesmeric blue eyes but damn if you don’t want to kiss him, right here, right now.

Duke

It was a stupid idea, and his family would give him so much shit if when they found out, but you’d argued that “we’ll never know if it might actually work unless we try” and that had sold him on giving it a go. Even if he thought about calling it off at every turn.

What was the stupid plan, and why was it necessary? Well, your ex was dating his crush, and you’d figured fake-dating might redirect their attention to the two of you. And if not, no harm done, right?

Big harm done. Over the next few months, Duke and yourself had spent most of your free time in close proximity. Sharing clothes, food, and ‘plan-related’ intimate details about each other. When you weren’t together you were glued to your phone, awaiting his texts, refreshing his socials.

Somewhere amongst all the dinner dates, and ‘strictly-business’ public making out sessions, your plan worked; his crush took notice, how could they not, Duke was perfect.

Your ex did not. Not that you cared, you’d moved on, to someone who was about to become equally as unavailable.

Jason

He was trying to infiltrate an infamous drug ring so he could take it down from the inside and needed someone in the know who could double as arm candy to sell his story. You’d already been trying to get your foot in the door for weeks now, but lacked enough street cred for them to take a chance on you. It only made sense that you would join forces.

For a while it’s fun, hanging off his arm, letting his hands roam your body freely, loud-whispering all the things you wanted to do to him for anyone to hear. You really enjoyed pretending to be his devilish trophy partner. You enjoyed the nights where it wasn’t pretend even more. But all good things must come to an end.

He served his purpose of getting you where you needed to be, but now he was getting a little too close to building a compelling case against the ring, you couldn’t let that happen, you had much bigger plans for it.

What? You’d promised information, not loyalty.

Kate

You’re both socialites with fairly large internet followings who run in the same circles. Your relationship has always been that of friendly acquaintances until a photographer snaps an innocuous photo of you both entering the bathroom at the same time and the media goes crazy.

Despite putting out very clear, separate statements, clarifying that there is nothing going on, your respective followers grab the ball and sprint with it until you both innocently start to play along. Leaving flirty comments on each other selfies, acting appalled when the other is rumoured to be dating someone else, tagging each other in scenic snaps that could be considered romantic: graffiti hearts, colourful sunsets, starry skies from the candlelit table of a wine bar.

It’s completely harmless of course, it’s all a joke, until it’s not. Until you actually find yourself flustered by her comments, really wishing she was sharing your dinners, until you brace yourself and send the first DM.

Tim

He really is the whole package. Handsome, hardworking, dedicated, polite, and as smart as he is rich. You can understand why your grandma was so excited, calling you from across the country to confirm if you were the mystery person spotted out and about with Bruce Wayne’s second youngest. You hadn’t lied when you’d said yes, you’d just neglected to tell her that you were only friends. You figured it would get her off your back about finding a nice boy for a while. It kind of felt nice, talking to somebody other than yourself about your big fat crush on him and in your defence, you hadn’t expected things to escalate so quickly.

One minute she’s bragging about her grandchild’s new boyfriend to the ladies in her swim aerobics class, the next she’s booked a flight to come and visit so she can meet him.

If you’d known what she was planning you would have confessed, but she’d already forked out the cash for her plane ticket so you swallowed your pride and begged Tim to help. He wouldn’t even have to do much, just spend the weekend nodding and smiling at an old woman’s stories and then he could reap the rewards of your eternal gratitude. You’d promised 6 months of undisputed lording it over you and a lifetime of freshly made cold brew.

Smile and nod, that’s all you expect, but apparently, that was too easy. Tim just had to make what was already an embarrassing situation, a million times worse. ‘Perfect grandson-in-law’, your ass.

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pa1nrema1ns · 3 months ago

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In a Sea of Fire || Sung Jin-woo (Part 3 of 3)

Siren!Jin-woo x Deaf!omega!reader

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm so excited to finally bring you the conclusion to the siren AU trilogy. This is my first full-fledged fic, and it was a true labor of love. To mark this milestone, I commissioned this absolutely drop-dead gorgeous artwork of Jin-woo's siren form from the amazing @ekkurea. She is super kind and an incredible artist. I highly recommend checking out all her beautiful art and commissioning her.

I have been overwhelmed by the positive reception to this series and I am so grateful for all of you. I also want to personally thank my good friend and dedicated beta-reader @forbidden-sunlight for supporting me in the creation of this story. I could not have done it without her 🖤 As always, please pay heed to the content warnings listed below.

╰┈➤ Previous Chapters

🐚Prologue by @forbidden-sunlight 🐬Part 1: Master and Apprentice 🧜🏻‍♀️Part 2: Two Intertwining Melodies

Content warnings: 18+MDNI, mutual pining, afab!reader, implied smut, a/b/o dynamics, heat cycles, mating bites, courting rituals, objectification of reader, obsessive thoughts, angst, possessiveness, violence, mythical creatures au, yandere!Jin-woo, mentions of corruption, derogatory & misogynistic language used by a side-character towards the reader, ooc!Jin-woo, mildly ambiguous ending.

Word count: 12k

Summary - Autumn approaches Jindo Island and with it flourishes new love. But lingering doubts and conflicting desires threaten to cast shadows over your romance with Jin-woo. Just what terrible secret was he hiding from you?

Header artwork created by @ekkurea exclusively for this series. Please do not repost, edit, or use for your own fics, headcanons, or drabbles.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @anitalenia

At the heart of the shopping district on Jindo Island…

For the first time in his life Sung Jin-woo found himself at a loss as to what to do.

The siren nervously runs a hand through his hair as he studies his appearance in the full-length mirror. His reflection looks back at him clothed in a partially unbuttoned dress shirt with its sleeves rolled up at the forearms and a pair of tapered trousers. It was a polished look that drew attention to his athletic frame and emphasized his stormy grey eyes.

Jin-woo chuckles when he notices Iron giving him a small thumbs up from the reservoir in his shadow. His soldiers were doing an excellent job of boosting his morale but the same could not be said for him. Jin-woo couldn’t help but remain somewhat self-critical.

The siren tended to gravitate towards darker clothing while disguised as a human. This was partly due to their resemblance to his actual color scheme. Of course, this meant the only options that interested Jin-woo were those in differing shades of black. While this allowed him to retain some semblance of his true self, he worried that black may be too drab of a color for your liking. He was also starting to feel very out of his element in this stuffy little fitting room.

To make matters more complicated the sales associate at this posh boutique was quite the chatterbox, an incompatible match for the introverted siren. The older man had been particularly insistent on helping Jin-woo find an outfit that would ‘knock his little lady’s socks off’ after he mentioned needing clothes for a date. His very first date to be precise.

With you.

Jin-woo was determined to make this a memorable experience for the both of you, and the first step involved picking out the appropriate attire.

Unfortunately shopping proved to be a far more tedious task than he thought. At least dungeon raids had the benefit of being relatively straightforward.

As he idles in front of the mirror a contemptuous voice lingers in his head jeering at him.

“How much longer do you intend on playing human, Sung Jin-woo? This reckless relationship has consisted of nothing but lies and deceit on your part. Have you ever considered how your beloved omega might feel after discovering you’ve been misleading her? It’s only a matter of time before your house of cards comes tumbling down.”

It was like listening to a crude mockery of himself, tone, inflection, and delivery of speech the exact same as his.

“In the end this farce will result in nothing more than heartache and tragedy and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

The malicious words hang heavy in the air like an omen. An unwanted reminder that beneath that thick veneer of invulnerability Jin-woo was indeed malleable.

“Just because Ashborn was accepted by his human lover doesn’t mean Y/N will do the same for you. That woman has no obligation to love a monster who preys upon her own kind.”

He grits his teeth at the intrusive thoughts bidding them to disappear. To grant him a moment’s respite from the terrifying possibilities of all that could go wrong.

It’s to no avail.

“Would she look at you the same way if she knew you weren’t human? If she knew a siren wanted to fuck her like some insatiable animal? You still have the taste of her in your mouth, don’t you? So soft, sweet, and willing for her alpha. Yet you refused to claim her right when she was in the palm of your hand. You pathetic coward.”

A preternatural violet hue alights Jin-woo’s body, and his muscles draw taut. A sign that he is well and truly pissed. The entire room threatens to crumble under the suffocating pressure.

“Tell me, just how many times have you woken up in the middle of the night? Hard, desperate, and starving for her touch. You must’ve lost count by now.”

A low growl emits from his throat. “Shut up! Shut the hell up!” He silently screams at the voice as it exposes his repressed sexual urges.

“What if she lashes out at you in anger? Do you really expect her to stay civil and calm after she finds out you’ve been lying to her this entire time?”

It was for her own good! I had to lie to protect her! Jin-woo finds himself mentally pleading with his internal monologue. Begging for it to understand the reasoning behind his deceptive actions.

This only incites it to twist the knife further.

“Why not just take her then? After all that’s what you’ve always done with every obstacle in your path, every thorn in your side. You destroy and take from it until there’s nothing left. And that woman will be no different, but this time it will be a triumph greater than any other once she’s yours to possess.”

Jin-woo couldn’t form a rebuttal at this point. He was livid and positively shaking with rage.

For months he had been struggling with conflicting feelings for you. Every single aspect and idiosyncrasy about you resonated with his being. From your feistiness and fierce independence to your infectious smile and compassionate nature, Jin-woo was wholly and unconditionally in love with you.

He knew from the moment you took him into your arms on that desolate beach that you were a genuinely kind person with a good heart. Someone he’d want by his side for an eternity.

Perhaps one day you could even find it in yourself to love him the same way he loves you.

But another side of him, a primal side of him, sought nothing more than to devour you.

To corrupt you.

To desecrate you.

To free you from those worthless shackles of human morality…

And shape you into a wanton goddess capable of handling his brand of darkness.

Not even sleep would grace him with the mercy of a reprieve; Jin-woo was often plagued by vivid dreams of you. Explicit images and sensations of fleshly pleasures that elicited the worst of his bestial nature. On more than one occasion he’d awaken to his knot swelling with need and a deep-seated longing for your warmth.

He knows he should be ashamed for fantasizing about such depravity, for perverting the friendship that had gradually cultivated between the two of you.

But he can’t bring himself to care.

Jin-woo would give just about anything if he could have you in the same way as his dreams.

And he can envision you perfectly.

Your shapely thighs wrapped around his narrow waist, urging him deeper inside you. A dazed expression on your pretty face as he thrusts into you with sheer, masculine drive. Honeyed moans spilling from your lips as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses across your jaw, down your neck, and over your collarbones. Your supple breasts heaving with exertion when you finally topple over the edge with him. And your sated form pressed against the firm ridges of his body as he soothes you in the wake of your earth-shattering climax.

Jin-woo hisses and bites back a groan as he feels himself growing hard against the inseam of his trousers. Shit. He’s never wanted someone so badly in his entire life.

It was terrifying how easily you had him wrapped around your finger. You tempted him, left him on the brink of insanity, and you weren’t even aware of it.

How? Just how did it come to this? Meeting his comeuppance at the hands of a beautiful woman.

The siren was supposed to be a hardened warrior. An indomitable force born from the outcome of hundreds of harrowing battles. Time and time again Jin-woo overcame insurmountable odds and arose from the ashes. Ever stronger, ever colder. With Ashborn’s guidance he had rebuilt himself from the ground up and molded himself into a successor worthy of the title Shadow Monarch.

Jin-woo was not some naïve boy who believed he could woo you with flowery language and saccharine declarations of love. Nor was he some unruly beast whose restless soul could only be placated by carnal satisfaction. He was better than that, more disciplined and pragmatic…

At least he believed himself to be –

“Hey, kid! Are you alright in there? You’ve been awfully quiet for a while now.”

The sound of the sales associate’s voice instantly breaks his train of thought.

“I’m fine, I was just mulling over all my options,” he responds evenly hoping to not draw attention to himself.

“No worries kid. Just let me know if you need anything.”

Once the man’s footsteps fade Jin-woo slumps into one of the chairs in the cramped room. He then lowers his face into his hands, too disgusted to look at himself any longer.

The minutes tick by but Jin-woo doesn’t budge from his spot.

“My liege! Please, I beg of you, stop tormenting yourself!” Beru, the newest of his shadow soldiers and the only one capable of speech attempts to talk some sense into his king.

“…” the siren doesn’t provide him with a response.

Beru continues, “My liege, I cannot bear to see you so despondent. My lady is not so cruel or callous that she would cast you aside merely for being a siren.”

“I am a monster Beru. Nothing will convince her otherwise once she knows the truth.” Jinwoo replies flatly.

“My liege please forgive my impertinence, but do you truly believe she thinks so little of you? I’ve seen the way she looks at you and there is nothing but adoration in her eyes. My lady will not forsake you regardless of who or what you are.”

Jin-woo gasps at the sincerity of Beru’s words. The shadow had been more perceptive than he initially thought. He feels the beginnings of a smile form on his lips.

“You’ve been acting surprisingly obstinate today Beru. What’s gotten into you?”

The ant almost immediately bursts into a fit of tears causing Jin-woo to regret his choice of words. The weeping shadow then prostrates himself before his king.

“My liege I am so sorry! I only meant to –”

“Thank you Beru. I really needed your pep talk. My mind feels much clearer now.” Jin-woo interrupts before the ant can misinterpret him. Beru sheepishly raises his head, feelings of shame now overtaken by pride.

“I won’t falter again. You have my word, all of you do.” He addresses his entire army this time.

A collective sigh of relief spreads throughout his soldiers. Because their souls were inextricably tied to their king’s every emotion Jin-woo experienced was shared firsthand with his shadows. They felt his happiness, his sadness, his anger.

And his desire for you.

It must’ve pained them greatly to see him in such a distressed state prompting Beru to act. His loyal soldiers needed a strong and centered king to guide them.

He would not submit so easily to despair again.

Jin-woo glances at his wristwatch; it was a quarter past one o’clock. He had three more hours to spare until your agreed meeting time at four. The siren really needed to get a move on if he had any hope of being prepared for the date. And to think that he had balked at human decorum before you stepped into his life…

He changes back into his street clothes and folds his chosen outfit into a neat pile. Before stepping out Jin-woo reaches into his inventory to examine his final courtship gift to you, a lustrous necklace composed of teardrop shaped mana crystals and pearls he harvested from his latest dungeon raid.

He spent hours meticulously crafting the jewelry by hand, working feverishly to ensure it was flawless. A one-of-a-kind item that no one else could hope to replicate or exceed. Still as he thumbed the necklace in his hand, he couldn’t help but replay those twisted words spoken by the disembodied voice.

Why not just take her then?

He tightens his grip on the necklace before hurriedly stowing it away in his hidden inventory. Next to it the Holy Water of Life lay untouched, burning a hole in his pocket.

The ball may have been in his court, but you would have the final say.

He'd make sure of it.

A sense of anticipation pervades the air as glowing neon lights come into view. You stop just shy of the entrance to a large commercial building, the chosen location for your date with Jin-woo.

A quick glance at your phone tells you that it’s a quarter till four. You still had another fifteen minutes to go. Ever the punctual one you always sought to arrive well ahead of schedule. This applied to your personal life as well.

From the corner of your eye, you think you see a deliberate movement in your shadow, one that does not match your own. You blink. Once, then twice. When you stare at the sidewalk again your shadow is as it should be, nothing but an intangible effigy bound to the push and pull of your own will. Weird, you think, had it been a trick of light? Your eyes then wander back to the front of the establishment.

Despite being the middle of the day, the bookstore’s sign remained lit by garish hues of yellow. You recall how many of the locals disapproved of the business when it first opened. To those who spent much of their lives in this quaint region of the Korean archipelago it was yet another ploy of gentrification from the mainland. To you, this bookstore served as a haven during your formative years. You spent countless hours getting lost in the worlds of your favorite authors here.

From the provocative narratives of Anne Rice to the gritty prose of Stephen King, your love for reading was fostered here. It only made sense to share this special part of yourself with Jin-woo, the beguiling alpha who was starting to consume your every waking thought.

As time draws nearer to your date you ponder over your last few months on the island.

The filming of ‘Murder on the Cerulean Sea’ wrapped up earlier this week and your colleagues were clamoring for a congratulatory celebration, something you wanted no part of. From personal experience you knew a constantly flowing stream of alcohol did not pair well with a room full of self-serving narcissists. You also hadn’t forgotten how rude the other make-up artists and stagehands had been to you on set. The fact that your date fell on the same day as the party was just the cherry on top.

Which brings you back to your dilemma, figuring out where you stand in your relationship with Jin-woo.

Throughout the entire twelve weeks of filming, you were both meeting in secrecy. Devoting this time to strengthening your bond tête-à-tête.

You learned much about Jin-woo and he about you, but you could tell he was harboring some kind of secret. Every time the topic of his personal background came up, he would steer the conversation in a different direction. In addition to this there was an ever-piling list of excuses for why he couldn’t divulge more about himself. This had you second guessing everything he was willing to share.

You really liked Jin-woo and you had no doubt he returned your feelings but you were also becoming highly suspicious of him. If you could wear your heart on your sleeve around him then why couldn’t he do the same for you?

Guilt was eating away at your conscience for even entertaining these thoughts. It’s through this haze of turmoil that your mind wanders to the more lighthearted moments between the two of you.

You think of the all the times he joined you on your early morning treks along the beach. Both as a companion and a protector. You had teased Jin-woo about it initially asking if he intended to use his ‘scary dog privilege’ to ward off other alphas. He scoffed at this suggestion clearly nonplussed by the comparison.

Yet despite your cheeky attitude you had readily taken up his offer. Your friends’ schedules often conflicted with yours, which meant they were usually working on the days you had off. What began as a nice change of pace from walking alone transformed into a cherished part of your routine. His warm, calloused fingers interlaced with yours as dusk bled into dawn.

There was also Jin-woo’s determination to communicate with you. Unsatisfied with written words alone, he had taken it upon himself to learn sign language. Jin-woo showed up one day with a step-by-step instruction manual containing illustrations. A cute shade of vermillion dusted his cheeks when he showed the book to you. You grinned from ear-to-ear and readily agreed to teach him.

He ended up being more adept at sign language than Cha and Jinho. By the end of your first session, Jin-woo was able to grasp several simple terms and phrases, a feat that greatly impressed you. Now he was bordering on being fluent. It was astonishing just how quickly he progressed.

And then there were his many gifts to you.

First a glory-of-the-seas cone in sumptuous tones of burnt ochre and golden brown. Then a bluefin tuna, a much sought-after and rare delicacy, captured fresh from the brine. And most recently, a natural South Sea pearl that appeared almost otherworldly in its splendor. Each offering a unique and thoughtful portrayal of his devotion.

The ritualism and intimacy of these gestures was not lost on you, and it left your heart racing. No one, save for director Jinchul, was ever this attentive towards you. And the latter had only done so on a professional basis. But Jin-woo treated you with a tender affection usually reserved for lovers. A title that was not either of yours to take. Not yet at least.

But both of you were well on the way to getting there.

Everything came to a turning point three days ago when your enigmatic friend finally worked up the courage to ask you out. You remember the bashful look on his face and the endearing image of his rosy cheeks. No sooner had Jin-woo finished signing his question than you found yourself excitedly leaping into his arms. At last, at long last you were both taking the next step in your relationship. So overcome with joy you completely overlooked all your unanswered questions and concerns about him. Nothing else had mattered at that moment.

Jin-woo effortlessly caught you and brought you into a twirling hug. You felt laughter bubble up from within you. It was as if a massive weight had been taken off your shoulders.

Just a few months ago you had been virtual strangers completely inconsequential to one other. Now you embraced as two intertwining melodies coalescing into one song.

When Jin-woo placed you back on your feet he had one more favor to ask. You watched intently as he brought both hands towards his face and formed them into half circles. He then placed the tips of his fingers together before puckering his lips. It was the sign for kissing. He wanted to kiss you.

You froze stunned by the unexpected request.

Apprehension painted Jin-woo’s handsome face. He was waiting, imploring you for an answer. Without missing a beat, you brought yourself closer to him. You didn’t stop until you were in such proximity your breath intermingled with his. You lifted your head and locked eyes with Jin-woo before lowering your gaze to admire his parted lips. After a flicker of hesitation, Jin-woo closed the gap between you and captured your lips with his.

Your eyes fluttered shut.

Gentle. It had been such a gentle kiss at the beginning; petal soft and languid. However, there was a palpable shift in mood the instant Jin-woo ceased his rhythmical movements to slip his tongue inside your mouth. He slid it across your teeth, coaxing you to open more of yourself to him. And you willingly surrendered, moaning into his mouth and allowing him to stroke his tongue against yours.

Jin-woo’s kiss soon devolved into a scorching clash of teeth and tongue that left you breathless. The last of his restraints snapped and he was not holding back. He fisted a hand in your hair and tilted your face at a better angle so he could deepen the kiss. He then circled your waist with his other arm pulling your pliant figure flush against him. This prompted you to grasp onto the front of Jin-woo’s shirt for purchase, pressing your breasts into his chest. You were so close to Jin-woo that you could feel the vitality of his rapidly beating heart. He nipped at your lips before parting from them to mouth at your jaw, the curve of your neck, and the cleavage exposed by your tank top.

You shivered though from fear or want you did not know. This was an animalistic side of him you had never seen or experienced before. It was electrifying.

Your breath caught in your throat when you felt one of Jin-woo’s incisors graze over the junction of your neck and shoulder, threatening to break skin.

And then, just as quickly as this act of madness had started, it came to an abrupt and sudden end. Jin-woo’s eyes regained their focus and his ministrations stopped at once. He slowly raised his head from the crook of your neck and turned to look at you. A heart wrenching expression of guilt distorted his face.

He had lost control of himself and succumbed to his baser instincts.

And if he had bitten down on you back there, he would’ve marked you as his mate for life. Because that area on your neck contained some of your scent glands.

An alpha will bite an omega’s scent glands while mating with them to stake their claim. This also mixes the alpha’s and omega’s scents together securing their bond. It was an irreversible process and Jin-woo came within an inch of forcing it upon you.

He released you from his grip and took several steps back, placing him some distance from you. Wisps of ebony hair obscured his eyes, making his face difficult to read.

You ran towards Jin-woo attempting to grab his hand, yet he pulled his arm away from your touch. But your resolve was strong, and you refused to give up. After a few more tries, Jin-woo finally acquiesced and let you come near him.

As soon as the two of you were face to face, you leant forward and cradled his face in your hands, forcing him to look you in the eye. The guilt was gone but now it had been replaced by fear. Fear of what he had almost done to you.

You were having none of it. Nothing about Sung Jin-woo scared you, not in the past and most certainly not now.

You dropped your hands, letting them fall to the side before raising them again. Then you began signing to Jin-woo, doing everything in your power to reassure him. You let him know that you were alright, you weren’t afraid of him in the slightest, and that both of you would be okay. What happened earlier was purely instinctual and would not draw a wedge between you. And most importantly you told him that you had absolutely no regrets about the kiss.

‘I wanted to kiss you,’ you signed, ‘I’ve been thinking about you as more than just a friend for a while now.’

‘So please, Jin-woo,’ you pleaded with him as your hands shook ‘let’s give this a shot. I want to be with you.’

He exhaled sharply before taking your smaller hands into his own. You really were his greatest weakness. He couldn’t resist you even if he tried.

You eventually managed to convince him to move forward with the date. The time and location were arranged shortly thereafter, although on slightly awkward terms given the circumstance.

Later that night while you were tucked away in the privacy of your bedroom, there was an unrelenting heat building between your thighs. The type of heat that set your nerves on fire and left you aching for release.

You hadn’t taken your heat suppressants in a while, and your body was paying a heavy price for it. You should’ve known better than to let yourself fall by the wayside, but you no longer cared about taking your medication anymore. It was like you were daring your heat to come, to wash over you and rid you of your inhibitions.

When the flames of your desire became unbearable, you slipped a hand underneath the waistband of your pajamas hoping it would slake your lust. However, as you stroked yourself to completion you couldn’t help but imagine it was Jin-woo’s deft fingers that were caressing your slick folds instead.

In the corner of your room an unknown presence watched you with rapt interest. It greedily drank in your sinful actions, the dips and curves of your body, the steady rise and fall of your chest. And as you reached your peak tendrils of shadow danced across your skin like silk.

After you fell asleep a lone hand emerged from the darkness and gently ran its knuckles over your cheek…

“ – !?”

You’re startled from daydreaming when the familiar scent of lavender and sandalwood perfumes the air. It was the tell-tale sign that Jin-woo had just arrived. You check your phone again and are shocked to see it’s already a minute past four. You totally lost track of time while standing outside the bookstore! Embarrassed, you turn and are greeted by the sight of your alpha.

He looked incredible, like a god amongst men. You loved the color black on Jin-woo, it brought out his sharp features and contrasted wonderfully with his fair complexion. The outfit he was wearing for your date exemplified this. His dark trousers and dress shirt were perfectly molded to his body creating a sleek and streamlined appearance. You slowly dragged your eyes across the hard planes of muscle bulging underneath the tight fabric. When you reach Jin-woo’s face there’s an amused glint in his eyes. Oh crap! He noticed you were ogling him. Heat blossoms across your cheeks and you self-consciously tug at the hemline of your cable knit sweater.

Unbeknownst to you Jin-woo had also been eyeing you up albeit in a far more discrete manner. The leggings you wore clung lovingly to curves like a second skin and your high heeled ankle boots completed the look giving it a touch of elegance. You were strikingly lovely, like a flower coming into bloom.

After several seconds of silence, Jin-woo break is the one who breaks the ice.

‘You look great, Y/N,’ he signs to you, ‘I’m so happy to see you again. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.’

Jin-woo must’ve had known you’d been embarrassed about being caught red-handed, so he didn’t bring it up. Instead, he complimented you. God, how could he be so smug yet so charming at the same time?

Precious boy, you muse.

You greet the raven-haired man back with a smile before pulling him into a hug. Jin-woo returns the embrace and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. All the tension and uncertainty from the past few days had dissipated allowing you to relax and enjoy each other’s company. It signaled a return to normalcy, to better days ahead for both of you.

‘Ready to head in?’ Jin-woo signs to you with a grin on his face that matches yours.

‘Let’s go,’ you respond with a jaunty spring in your movements.

You grab his hand and lead the way, threading your fingers through his.

The next two hours are spent perusing the bookstore’s massive collection. It was one of the largest retail booksellers in Asia boasting over 100,000 different titles on its shelves. Jin-woo’s eyes widened when he walked in. He’d never seen so many books in one place before.

‘Overwhelmed?’ you ask him, nervous that you made the wrong decision on choosing this bookstore for your first date. The size of it alone could be daunting to newcomers.

‘It’s amazing,’ he answers, excitement evident in the fast motions of hands. Your chest fills with warmth at his display of enthusiasm.

You share your interests and favorite genres with Jin-woo, showing him the many novels you read over the years. Jin-woo seemed particularly drawn to the paper- and hardback books in the ‘Classics’ section. He picked up a copy of The Odyssey and leafed through its contents making you curious about his tastes.

One of your hands was clutching onto a large special edition hardback so you typed your question on your phone this time.

[“Do you like Greek mythology?”]

‘I’ve read a few stories here and there,’ he signs back after glancing at your screen.

[“I remember being assigned this book in AP literature when I was a second year. I found it rather interesting, but I loathed Odysseus. I thought he was a complete asshole for cheating on his wife. She remained faithful during his 10-year journey from Ithaca despite having over 100 suitors. But he gets a free pass for sleeping with goddesses and other women. Ugh😒”]

You huff after airing your grievances about Odysseus and his infidelity in your text message. It was silly but you’ve held a personal vendetta against the fictional man ever since you finished reading the epic poem.

Jin-woo snorts in amusement at your reaction. Looks like you both held a distaste for Odysseus although his reason for disliking him differed greatly from yours. Sirens only became weak to humanity after the epic hero found a means of circumnavigating their deadly voices. It felt good to share a common enemy with you.

‘You’re even prettier when you’re angry,’ Jin-woo smirks as he signs this to you.

Now it was your turn to snort. Really? That was a new one.

[“Flattery will get you everywhere with me! Now state your price handsome. 😉”]

He inhales before signing, ‘Will you watch the stars with me tonight?’

The tips of his ears and nape of his neck were bright red as he asked you this. It was adorable.

You answer with a fleeting kiss to his mouth, and you can feel him smiling against your lips. Of course you’d watch the stars with him tonight! You’d be willing to watch them every single night by his side if he’d let you.

The two of you continue floating through the different aisles, a copy of The Odyssey tucked underneath Jin-woo’s arm. He also picked out another book, a science fiction novel titled, The Ants, by Bernard Werber. Jin-woo had read the novel once before and he wanted to revisit it for old time’s sake.

As your book tour concludes Jin-woo comes to a halt after catching sight of an ornate hardcover. Intrigued, you scan the title. It was Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid.

‘This story always makes me so sad,’ you sign to Jin-woo with a melancholy look in your eyes.

‘Can you tell me about it?’ Jin-woo asks, his interest piqued.

You find yourself hesitating.

‘Are you sure you want me to spoil it for you?’

‘I don’t mind.’ he responds.

You decide to use your phone to relay the plot since the fairy tale is a lengthy one.

[“There once lived a beautiful and kindhearted mermaid. Having spent most of her life at sea she longed to explore the world above and learn more about humanity. When she becomes old enough to swim to the surface she falls in love at first sight with a handsome prince. After a violent storm sinks his ship, the mermaid rescues him and brings him back to land before he regains consciousness.”]

Jin-woo’s gaze is intense as he studies your phone screen. You’ve never seen someone be so invested in your storytelling. It was flattering.

You continue typing away intent on finishing what you started.

[“The mermaid’s infatuation with the prince drives her to strike up a deal with a powerful sea witch. The witch offers her a potion that can transform her into a human, but it comes at a high cost. The mermaid would never be able to return to the sea once she drank it. What’s more the potion also robs her of her voice and causes her excruciating pain whenever she walks. Despite knowing the toll it will take on her body the mermaid moves forward, blinded by love.”]

Jin-woo’s eyes narrowed after reading this passage and he signs, ‘She’s being manipulated by the witch?’ You confirm his question with a nod of your head.

Your final text ends the story on a low note.

[“The mermaid finally meets and befriends the prince but everything she sacrifices is for nothing. He falls in love with a princess from another kingdom instead and this breaks her heart. The sea witch appears once more to give an ultimatum to the mermaid: she must kill the prince and allow his blood to drip onto her feet. Only by having her revenge could she return to the sea and live as a mermaid again. But she refused. Her love for the prince prevented her from stabbing him. In the final scene the mermaid tosses herself into the sea and as daybreak approaches, she dissolves into foam.”]

You sigh once you’re done. It’s more akin to a tragedy than a fairy tale, you think.

Your next message asks:

[“So, what’s your opinion on it? Pretty sad stuff huh?”]

When you turn to Jin-woo to gauge his reaction you’re taken aback by how pale he looks. There’s a bead of sweat sliding down his face and his countenance had turned grim, a far cry from his relaxed expression at the start of your date. The ending must have disturbed him way more than you anticipated.

Crap. You should have never offered to explain the plot to Jin-woo. This version of, The Little Mermaid, made you bawl like a baby the first time you read it and you usually remained dry-eyed while reading most tearjerkers. Why did you think it was a bright idea to discuss it on a date of all things? It was time to shift into damage control mode, stat!

You struggle for words while coming up with an apology to Jin-woo. You try to keep the text casual and concise to reduce any tension between you.

[“Jin-woo, are you okay? Do you need to sit down and rest? I’m so sorry! I’ve gone and dampened the mood.😭”]

He shakes his head after looking at your message and retrieves a pen and a small notepad from his pocket, an indication that he wanted to hold a longer conversation with you. Although Jin-woo’s grasp of sign language was excellent he found written words to be suitable when the circumstance called for it. Like now for instance.

When he’s done writing with his stationery he hands the notepad to you.

[“Please don’t feel the need apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong. You tried to warn me about how sad the story was, but I insisted on you telling me it anyway. I was just surprised was all. I can relate a bit to the mermaid because I’ve also made great sacrifices for the ones I love. In the mermaid’s case her love for the prince destroyed her. She gave up everything for him only for it to be in vain. It’s sobering to see love portrayed so tragically.”]

Jin-woo worries at his lower lip. He mentioned making sacrifices for his loved ones to you before but what exactly did he mean by it?

[“What sacrifices did you make if you don’t mind me asking? I’m here if you need a shoulder to lean on y’know.”]

You play coy with your response to glean more information from him. Maybe now that you’re officially dating, Jin-woo will open up to you.

Your hopes are dashed when the notepad is back in your possession.

[“Nothing I haven’t said before. Long hours, being away from home, missing my mother and sister while I’m away. Those kinds of sacrifices. Fishing at sea can be deadly if you’re not careful. I’ve had to dirty my hands on more than a few occasions while on the job.”]

Dirty his hands? Now this was something he hadn’t discussed with you before. Was Jin-woo involved in something illegal? Commercial fishing and maritime hunting were mercilessly cutthroat. A big profit can be made from harvesting seafood, fish, and other resources from the ocean. Some companies go as far as committing murder to weed out the competition.

Could this be what he meant by ‘dirtying his hands?’ That would explain why he was so flighty about his past with you. What if he was in trouble? If he was then why didn’t he ask you for help? Did he not trust you or did he not want to drag you into a mess of his own making?

Your mind’s going a mile a minute you’re so worried about Jin-woo. If he ended up injured or even dead because you decided to believe his lies and look the other way you would never forgive yourself. It was time to address the elephant in the room once and for all.

You type so fast; it’s a miracle you can come up with a message that was even coherent. Your face is hot, and you can already feel the sting of tears in your eyes.

[“Jin-woo, you need stop lying to me. I know there’s something you’re hiding, and it hurts that you can’t trust me enough to say it. If you’re in trouble just tell me. Say the words and I’ll try to help you to the best of my ability. I really like you Jin-woo but honesty should be mutual between us. I’ve spilled my guts to you, told you all about my life, my friends, and my job. Why can’t you do the same for me? I feel like I’m only falling in love with your reflection, not the real you. I just can’t do this anymore! I don’t want to lose you, but I refuse to be part of a relationship that lacks any kind of integrity!”]

Jin-woo takes on the pallor of a corpse as soon as he scans the contents of your text.

Fuck, you had done it now. There was no going back.

When he can bring himself to gaze at you there’s a devastation in his face that makes you instantly hate yourself for lambasting him. Yet you had to stand firm and conquer this hill if you had any chance of a future with him.

His little notepad is staring you in the face before you know it. Jin-woo’s handwriting looked frenzied and frayed. When you glance at him, his head is bowed, and his eyes are cloaked in shadow. He was utterly ashamed of himself. You can’t even begin to imagine what thoughts must be going running through his mind. He had to be as distraught as you were if not worse.

[“Tonight,” the scrawl reads, “I am going to tell you everything tonight. No more lies, no more excuses, I promise you. Even if you despise me for it, even if you never want to see me again, I’ll give you the truth no matter what. So please just this once trust me. I don’t want to lose you either. You’re everything to me, Y/N. I’m sorry for not being truthful to you, I just didn’t want you to get hurt because of me. I’ve only ever lied to protect you.”]

The desperation in his words makes your heart plummet. Just how terrible was this secret that it made Jin-woo think you would hate him for it? And he was scared you would be harmed if you knew? There was no doubt about it, Jin-woo absolutely was in danger. Why else would he be so disturbed about telling you?

Your hands are shaking so badly you can barely keep your phone from falling out of your grip. Jin-woo notices and steadies them by taking your hands in his own. Even at his lowest point you were his priority.

Did he ever once consider his own well-being?

How could he be so considerate of you at a time like this? You wanted to scream; to demand he be angry at you, to curse at you. Anything to justify your self-loathing. You berated Jin-woo without considering why he may be lying in the first place. For all you know his life could be on the line. Yet you only thought of your frustrations like a petulant child.

Stupid. You were so goddamn stupid!

A bookstore associate sees your distress and heads in your direction. Although your argument with Jin-woo was silent your panicked demeanor was starting to cause a scene. You really don’t want anyone to see you like this right now. Especially since you were on the brink of having a breakdown.

Jin-woo quickly acts as your shield, his protectiveness of you second nature. He pulls you to his chest, hiding your face from prying eyes. He’s warm, his heartbeat is steady, and you can feel his palms running up and down your back, consoling you. Jin-woo held you with the tenderness of a lover.

It’s in the comfort of his embrace that you let go and allow yourself to weep for him.

“Hello, ma’am is everything alri–”

“You can direct your questions to me. Can’t you tell she’s upset right now?” Jin-woo interrupts the man with clipped tone before he can finish. There’s a particularly nasty scowl on his face and the aura resonating from him is menacing at best. Did this moron not know how to read the room or was he lacking in common sense? You were vulnerable and in no position to be approached by a stranger let alone some random man.

The store associate pales and falters at Jin-woo’s display of aggression. He glances at the dark-haired alpha then back to you before his eyes widen. He had connected the dots.

“I… I… Sir, please try to understand. I didn’t mean to intrude on you and your mate, there were just some concerns from the staff and other patrons because of how scared she looked.”

Jin-woo’s hold on you tightens ever so slightly, and he levels a sneer at the frightened associate. The fucking gall of this man, of these humans, thinking they had a right to invade your own personal matters!

If you hadn’t been there with him he wouldn’t think twice about murdering every single person in this building. He’d flay the flesh from their bones, reap their misbegotten souls, and resurrect them into mindless pawns; just cogs in a machine for his army of the undead.

Jin-woo reluctantly quells his rage and spits out, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave. What happens between her, and I is of no concern to you. Now go.”

His commanding baritone brooks no argument, and the man flees with all the grace of a wounded animal.

For the next few minutes, you remain in Jin-woo’s arms until your tears run dry. When you’re feeling stable enough to walk Jin-woo softly takes your hand and leads you out of the building. Your books lie forgotten and haphazardly stacked on top of one another on a random shelf.

You both walk aimlessly with no set destination in mind. Your eyes were still swollen and puffy from earlier, so you avert your gaze from Jin-woo. He merely squeezes your hand in response, a gesture of reassurance.

An unoccupied back alley with a dead end eventually comes into view. It’s here in this inconspicuous passageway that Jin-woo decides to explain the full extent of his powers.

Once you’re seated on a nearby windowsill, he activates his inventory in front of you for the first time. Jin-woo said he would show you the truth and he was a man of his word. He withdraws Kasaka’s Venom Fang, the oldest dagger in his collection, and gracefully twirls it in his hand before holding it out to you.

As expected, you’re awestruck by the sight of the weapon. However, what Jin-woo doesn’t anticipate is for you to suddenly extend a hand towards the blade, your index finger almost touching its venom-tinged edge. He snatches your wrist so nimbly you barely register what happens. Only the warmth from his body alerts you of his hold.

You gasp.

Despite the incredible velocity of his movements Jin-woo was able to rein in the force behind them, preventing you from being hurt by his grip. Even the most elite athletes struggled to find the perfect balance between speed and strength. His control of his body was beyond human capabilities.

He shoots you an apologetic look and releases your wrist.

‘That dagger can paralyze and drain your life if it cuts you,’ Jin-woo warns after returning it to storage, ‘I should have told you sooner. I’m sorr –

‘It’s beautiful.’

He raises his eyebrows. Of all the words you could use to describe such a deadly weapon ‘beautiful’ wasn’t what he had in mind. His lips quirk into a small smile.

‘You think so? It doesn’t frighten you?’ he queries, pleasantly surprised by your nonchalance.

You nod and peer at him with a soft expression.

‘I do.’ There’s a long pause before you add, ‘You’ve used that knife before, haven’t you?’

You bite your lip and clasp your hands together after you’re done signing. You knew you were backing Jin-woo into a corner with a loaded question, but he wouldn’t be lugging around such a dangerous item without having a very good reason for it.

The grin on his face vanishes, replaced by grimace. You hit the nail on the head. Jin-woo readies himself for his answer.

‘Yes, I have. I’ve used that dagger to hurt and even kill people in the past. I know I’ve told you many lies and half-truths, but I wasn’t lying when I told you I dirtied my hands.’

He expels a shaky breath before delving into all the gritty details of who he really is. Unraveling and stripping himself down to his barest form.

Through a combination of sign language, a visual demonstration of his abilities, and written words Jin-woo reveals that he is a hunter, a warrior who fights life and limb against otherworldly beasts; day in and day out.

He exposes his many skills including stealth, the power he used to manifest outside of the bookstore.

Next came his accelerated healing and immense physical prowess. Jin-woo spots a discarded cinderblock on the ground, grabs it, and shatters the hard object with his bare hands. This causes his palms to scrape and bleed. You gasp and rise to your feet, alarmed by Jin-woo’s injuries. But he lifts his arm, an unspoken order for you to stay exactly where you are.

Suddenly light eclipses the abrasions and his skin starts to mend itself. You watch in disbelief as Jin-woo splays his opened and visibly undamaged palms in the air. You had just witnessed Kandiaru’s Blessing in the flesh.

And then he unveils one of his greatest assets to you.

The shadows pooling at his feet rapidly proliferate until the entire alley is submerged in darkness. Within seconds a lone obsidian knight emerges from the void. He cuts a formidable figure on his own standing well over 240 cm with vibrant hues of amethyst accenting his heavy armor. A single red plume hangs atop his helmet and sways with every stride he takes. When he gets within five feet of you and Jin-woo he kneels in reverence.

You learn the knight’s name is Igris and that he’s one of hundreds of soldiers who serve under Jin-woo. This was only a taste of the Shadow Monarch’s full dominion.

Once finished Jin-woo issues an order for Igris to return. The knight stands tall and nods his assent to his king and much to your shock, to you as well, before he disappears into the receding shadows. Moments later the alleyway is as it always appears with nothing to indicate what transpired.

It’s at this stage that you present one more hard-hitting question to Jin-woo. A question he’d been dreading.

‘You aren’t human, are you Jin-woo?’

He clenches his fists.

‘No, I’m not.’

You study his face closely trying to scope out any signs of deception, but there are none. He was being completely honest with you. But then what else could he possibly be?

Before the weight of his answer can fully sink in the revolting stench of congealed blood assaults your senses. It reeks of decay and viscera, the potent odor violating the air like a malignancy.

This was the unmistakable scent of an alpha, one that you were unfortunately all too familiar with.

It was Kang Taeshik’s nauseating musk.

You internally panic, horrified that your assailant from months ago was somehow back in the picture. Your thoughts become a frantic mess.

No…no…no! It can’t be! Director Jinchul fired him! He should’ve been long gone by now, so what the hell was he doing back on this island!?!

You feel like the air’s been punched from your lungs. Your legs shake uncontrollably and threaten to crumble. Jin-woo quickly catches you by the waist before you can slump to the ground. He then maneuvers your body so that you’re facing him, not the unseen nightmare that was approaching. He strokes your hair, and his pheromones are released in full force to calm your nerves. The aroma of lavender and sandalwood slowly begins to supersede the miasma of death.

“Show yourself already. The bloodlust from your filthy stench’s enough of a giveaway, alpha.”

Jin-woo’s eyes narrow into a frosty glare as the sound of obnoxious clapping echoes throughout the alleyway. Taeshik had finally announced his arrival.

“Well, color me impressed! It’s not often I come across someone who isn’t intimidated by my scent. Looks like you’ve got some balls on you! I like it! You’d make a great brawler in our fighting circuit.” An unknown voice commends Jin-woo with a condescending undertone.

You begin to whimper as the odor increases in intensity. Jin-woo gently tucks your head into the crook of his neck granting you access to his scent glands. Right now, his instincts were kicking into overdrive. He was solely focused on protecting and cherishing you. Fighting could be put on the back burner. For now.

A man with a wild mane of purple hair arrogantly saunters into view. He’s accompanied by a large group of men, around ten in total and all of them alphas. Judging by the murderous intent in their eyes they were on the prowl for prey.

Taeshik’s mouth spreads into a smirk reminiscent of a Chelsea grin when notices you. He openly leers at your body; an action that causes Jin-woo to snarl and bare his fangs.

The purple haired man raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Hey now there’s no need for that. I was just appreciating the view, that’s all. Besides, your omega and I have a bit of a history together. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

Jin-woo’s eyes go wide. How did he know your name?

His reaction seems to delight Taeshik who continues his spiel.

“Why the shock? She must’ve not told you about me. Y’see we used to be coworkers up until she got me fired. And after I was just trying to help by doing a little favor for her. No good deed goes unpunished, I guess.” He breaks into a fit of disconcerting laughter at the end of his speech.

“A favor?” Jin-woo asks, no, demands Taeshik to answer. Just what had he done to you?

One of the gang members, a burly man with several scars, spiky black hair, and a five o’ clock shadow snickers and interjects.

“Isn’t it obvious, brat? That little slut went into heat right in front him. She was practically begging for it too! Taeshik here was gonna bring her to us so we could all get a piece of that fine ass. Too bad that fuckin’ director had to go and ruin our plans. But your boss isn’t here to save you this time, huh sweetheart?”

“She can’t hear or speak to you, Dongsuk. She’s deaf. I don’t know how many times I have to keep reminding you.” Taeshik drawls, annoyance lacing his voice.

“Heh, so what? A hole’s a hole. It ain’t like she’s gonna be able to talk with a mouthful of cock anywa –”

Slash!

In the blink of an eye Dongsuk’s head rolls off his shoulders leaving nothing but a bloodied stump in its wake. His body slumps to its knees like a marionette with its strings cut before flopping onto the ground.

“Wha – what the hell just happened!?!”

“Holy shit!”

“D…Dongsuk!? No!”

Confusion and panic overtake the men within seconds. Even Taeshik looks ill at ease. None of them had been able to pinpoint the exact cause or reason for the man’s untimely demise.

When the purple haired alpha redirects his attention to Jin-woo, he’s mortified by what he sees. Black eclipses the end of the alleyway submerging everything in darkness except for Jin-woo’s piercing gaze.

In that moment, Taeshik learns what pure, unadulterated terror feels like. He was staring death in the face, a face that bore nothing but apoplectic rage.

A crimson and black dagger, the Knight Killer, was wielded in one of Jin-woo’s hands. The weapon’s jagged edges were ensanguined up to the hilt; evidence of the life it had so effortlessly taken. Jin-woo’s other arm remained wrapped around you although now you were facing Taeshik, the remainder of his men, and the decapitated corpse of Hwang Dongsuk.

You tear your gaze away, unable to bear the gruesome sight any longer. Jin-woo looks at you sympathetically before hardening his expression.

He knew he was letting his anger get the better of him, but he was infuriated by these vulgar bottom feeders and the disgusting remarks they made about you. Jin-woo really couldn’t give a fuck about killing these wastes of space, but he wouldn’t let you be a spectator to the slaughter he was about to commit. You’ve been traumatized enough.

An insect-like specter suddenly manifests from the shadows and bows before you and his king.

“Beru, take her somewhere safe and far away from here. I don’t want her to see this.” Jin-woo orders, his voice dropping an octave lower.

“At once my liege.” The ant diligently obeys his master and offers a clawed hand to you.

“My lady?”

You pause at the gesture, unsure of whether you should accept it or stay by Jin-woo’s side. The dark-haired man notices your hesitation and makes the choice for you. He clasps onto your shoulder and squeezes it urging you to escape with Beru.

You reluctantly allow the ant to hoist you into his arms. As Beru prepares to launch himself into flight you turn and cast a final glance at Jin-woo.

He looks nothing at all like himself. He’s cold, menacing, inhuman.

That’s right, Jin-woo wasn’t human. He admitted as much to you. But it hadn’t changed your feelings for him in any shape or form. Your heart still yearned and bled for him all the same.

Your lids grow heavy once Beru takes to the skies, a likely side-effect of overexposure to Jin-woo’s pheromones. As you start to succumb to slumber, your last waking thoughts are filled with nothing but him.

The moon hangs high in the sky when you wake up. After gaining your bearings you perform a cursory scan of your surroundings. A vast sea cavern greets you, its atmosphere dank and foreboding. Stalactites rain down from the ceiling like arrows frozen in time, weathered rocks line the walls, and the air is so humid you struggle to breathe. The only source of light is from moonbeams drifting through a crevice at the top of the cave.

You soon realize that you’re lying on top of a sandbank in the middle of a large body of water. There didn’t appear to be any means of escape other than swimming, but you were mentally and physically exhausted. Your phone was also nowhere in sight, making it impossible to text for help. You were effectively stuck.

An undulating motion in the water’s surface catches your attention. You weren’t alone, something was in here with you and it was getting closer. However, you’re not afraid. In fact, there’s something oddly familiar about this presence...

The movements abruptly ceases, and all is still for several heart pounding seconds. Then out of nowhere a large figure surges from underneath the briny waves.

It’s a male siren, and he’s utterly magnificent. His appearance more akin to a work of art than a living, breathing being. He looks at you with a serene expression. Was this who you thought it was?

You drink him in, appreciating his beauty in its entirety.

The siren’s eyes consist of blackened sclerae with amethyst irises. A smooth layer of ebony skin partially coats his jaw, shoulders, and back. It contrasts wonderfully with the ivory coloring on his chest and face. He bore the same pattern as a killer whale; an apt comparison given that sirens were also apex predators. Webbed ear fins protrude from the sides of his head, the scales on them aglow under the faint moonlight. And luscious locks of black hair frame the siren’s stunning face.

He's simply not of this world. Words could never accurately describe his ethereal visage.

The siren is sprawled out on the edge of the sandbank. Upon closer inspection you notice that he’s highly anxious. You see his dichromatic throat bobbing, and he makes a conscious effort to avoid eye contact with you. You’d seen these nervous tics before.

‘Is that you, Jin-woo?’ You sign to the siren although you’re certain you already know the answer. You just needed his confirmation for peace of mind.

He shuts his eyes and nods, a somber admission of the truth.

You take a deep breath before exhaling. Then you present him with another question.

‘Did you kill all of them?’

The siren remains still this time. His lack of a definite response was an answer in itself.

You wet your lips. So, you were right. Jin-woo said he’s killed before to survive, but this time he did it for you. To punish those men who sought to use you for their own perverse interests. And Taeshik… his fate must’ve been worse than death for what he put you through.

Jin-woo signs to you.

‘I’m sorry you had to find out this way… this was supposed to be a special day for you, but everything went wrong. I know you’ll want no part of me in your life after this, but I’m glad I met you. I’ll have Beru take you home.’

Jin-woo turns his back to you and prepares to make his departure. So, that was it? He was going to vanish from your life just like that. You hadn’t even gotten a word in; he just assumed you didn’t want anything to do with him. That idiot!

You had to stop Jin-woo before it was too late! But what could you possibly do to prevent him from leaving…?

You have an epiphany then; what if you gave all of yourself to Jin-woo, body and soul? Only an intimate act, the consummation of your relationship, could fully bind you to Jin-woo.

A mating bite is irreversible. Once you are bonded there’s no going back on it. But you’ve wanted Jin-woo for so long. In fact, you wish he had bitten your scent glands when he first kissed you. Him being a siren, a killer of mankind and monsters, did not deter you. He was your chosen mate. You would never refuse him.

The sound of rustling of clothes stops Jin-woo in his tracks. He inhales shakily, not quite believing what was happening just feet from him.

You were disrobing yourself. You wanted to mate with him!

As you peel off each article of clothing, the sweet scent of your pheromones and slick become more pronounced. Jin-woo groans as his knot starts to swell. God, you smelt incredible! If only he could see your nude form. The things he’d make you feel, the sounds he’d drive from you…

Why was he still stopping himself? Your actions just now said all that needed to be said! You wanted him, and you were more than ready for his knot. As an alpha he’d be remiss not to tend to the needs of his omega.

His mouth curls into a wolfish grin. You really had no idea what you’d just gotten yourself into.

You feel heat pooling between your thighs at the sight of Jin-woo’s broad shoulders. The muscles of his back flex deliciously when he finally turns to relish you in all your naked glory. The smoldering gaze he sends you as his eyes sweep over every inch of your bare body looks like it’s carved in sin. You delight in his attention and crave more of it.

Unable to endure another second apart from your alpha, you rush to the edge of the sandbank fully prepared to swim to him if necessary. But you’re beaten to the punch as Jin-woo emerges from the water and pins you to the ground at a speed that’s downright demonic.

He holds both of your wrists above your head in one large hand while he rests his other arm on his elbow beside your head, trapping you beneath him.

Jin-woo looks into your eyes one last time for any sign of resistance. There’s none; you were not backing down from this. You wanted him to claim you.

Your explicit consent is all he needs to unleash himself upon you. He molds his lips against yours in a searing kiss that burns with passion. Your eyes slip shut as you lose yourself to it. Jin-woo was kissing you with abandon this time, and it was sublime. There was a clear intent and purpose in every stroke and caress of his mouth. He kissed you as if nothing else mattered.

He abruptly parts from your lips to press his forehead to yours. At last, both of you could indulge and get lost in one another. You bask in Jin-woo’s warmth and spread your legs apart allowing him to slant between them. He releases your wrists and cradles your face in his hands.

Your breath hitches when you feel his length prodding against your stomach. This was really happening! You shiver in spite of yourself. Would you be able to withstand Jin-woo’s brute strength?

The siren presses featherlight kisses to your lips, cheeks, and eyelids to quell your nerves. When he pulls back you notice his mouth is moving. You focus on his lips, carefully deciphering each word.

“Raise your head and close your eyes. I have a surprise”

You do as he asks, and something cold prickles against your décolleté and the back of your neck. You’re curious about what Jin-woo’s placed on you but you keep your head raised and your lids remain firmly shut. Moments later two taps of his fingertips on your cheek signal that you can open your eyes.

When you glance down, you’re amazed by the jewelry dangling from your neck. It’s gorgeous. Incandescent shards of crystal and delicate alabaster pearls pour from your nape down to the swell of your breasts.

Jin-woo in turn finds himself mesmerized by the image of the gemstones splayed across your dewy skin. Your complexion glows in the moonlight, making you all the more alluring.

He decides to take you right then and there.

As you wrap your arms around Jin-woo’s shoulders, he captures your lips with his and slides into your tight heat. You keen and arch into Jin-woo, baring your throat to him. His fangs lengthen, and he sinks them into the tender flesh of your neck, staking his claim.

Stars adorn the night sky as the two of you intertwine and become one.

Five days later…

Woo Jinchul was beside himself with worry.

He wearily rubs at his bloodshot eyes. A quick glance at his phone tells him it's just past three o’ clock in the morning. Yet another sleepless night had come to pass. The man contemplates grabbing more coffee but decides not to. He was already five cups deep and the caffeine was doing nothing for his exhaustion.

Jinchul knows he isn’t at his best when he’s sleep deprived but he couldn’t afford to waste another minute, not while you were still nowhere to be found. And now, based on recent developments in your case, you were classified as an endangered missing person. Sleep was the very last thing on his mind.

He looks down at his desk to examine your case file for what must’ve been the tenth time in the last hour. These classified documents contained sensitive information. Jinchul had to resort to pulling strings to obtain a copy of your records. He hated throwing his weight around to get what he wanted but bringing you back home safe and alive was far more important to him.

Lead detectives Baek Yoonho and Choi Jong-In hadn’t been too thrilled about sharing the particulars of an open investigation with some ‘big wig’ film director. It took some major convincing on Jinchul’s part for them to relent and provide him with such crucial details.

So far, it’s been almost a full week since your disappearance. During that time, an exhaustive search of the island had been performed. However, there was no sight or sound of you. And as fate would have it, another misfortune occurred on the very night you vanished. This time it was a massacre.

Kang Taeshik, a name Jinchul wishes he could just forget. The man had a propensity for violence as well as a lengthy rap sheet that was conveniently scrubbed from public records. He knew Taeshik engaged in some unsavory pastimes, namely hosting unsanctioned brawls in the underground fighting circuit. But this was only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Racketeering, drug trade, and much to Jinchul’s horror, human trafficking, had been just a handful of the crimes the sick bastard had gotten away with.

If only he had known sooner, then you would’ve never been in this situation. He should’ve trusted his gut and chosen another actor for Taeshik’s role. Jinchul always despised the way that man looked at you, like you were a slab of meat. It was disgusting.

Imagine his shock when he discovered Taeshik had fallen victim to a mass murderer. Body parts and mutilated remains barely recognizable as human were found littered in an alleyway like trash. The scene had been so grizzly that dental records were required to identify the deceased. Only four out of the eleven decedents could be positively ID’d, with Taeshik being one of them.

There were no eyewitnesses, no biological evidence, no suspects. Nothing. The murders would be exceptionally difficult to solve.

And they didn’t stop there.

A large bookstore was set on fire two days after the gruesome discovery. Widespread flames and hundreds of thousands of books were a recipe for disaster. Despite the best efforts of the fire department and emergency services, over seventy people lost their lives. It was initially presumed to be an accident, likely faulty wiring or inadequate maintenance.

This theory was thrown out the window when the autopsy results of one of the store’s associates revealed some truly unsettling details.

To put it lightly the man had been decimated. Every bone in his body was shattered, his spinal cord was severed, and both his legs were torn off. The associate had undergone an excruciating death, with any one of his injuries being fatal. He’d been tortured extensively before expiring from blood loss. Whoever committed this murder must’ve wanted him to suffer. The damage to the man’s body also bore striking similarities to the injuries sustained by victims of the massacre.

When his surviving co-workers were asked by detectives if the man had any known enemies, an older woman spoke up. Apparently, there was a tall dark-haired alpha having a falling-out with his girlfriend in the store a few days prior. The associate attempted to intervene and stop the lover’s tiff, but the boyfriend had been greatly angered by this.

“It was as if he’d seen a ghost,” the woman stated, “He was absolutely spooked by the confrontation and refused to talk to us about it. Looking back, I wish I hadn’t dropped the topic so easily. That boy was such a hard worker, always so eager to help those in need… it’s awful what happened to him. I don’t know how his family is coping.”

But if a grudge was only held against the associate then why did the killer go so far as to destroy the entire building? Did he also harbor resentment towards the business? Was he trying to make an example out of them?

Unfortunately, all the surveillance cameras in the bookstore had been destroyed in the fire. Staff members were able to provide a detailed description of the alpha and his girlfriend. When Jinchul first saw the composite sketches he nearly fell out of his chair.

The girlfriend had been a dead ringer for you.

If that wasn’t enough of a smoking gun, the day the man and woman were seen together coincided with the day you went missing.

Evidence in your case was mounting but none of it made sense. How did you get involved with this man? As far as Jinchul knew you weren’t dating anyone during filming. Cha and Jinho were also certain you were single. But that didn’t exclude the possibility of you being in a secret relationship…

At this point in the investigation, all Baek and Choi had to run on was the assumption you’d been kidnapped by a highly dangerous individual. A man who just so happened to be linked to almost one hundred deaths within the last week. The resolution to your missing person’s case was becoming bleaker by the day.

Jinchul rubbed at his temples. Going days without a proper night’s rest was taking its toll on him. His head was throbbing with a killer headache. Everything’s gone to shit since you’ve been gone.

Due to the tragic events surrounding the island and the unsolved disappearance of one of their own, executive producer Go made the difficult decision of suspending production on ‘Murder on the Cerulean Sea,’ indefinitely. The movie was most likely going to be shelved.

Jinchul sighs and reaches for his phone again. He skims through his photo gallery until he comes across a picture taken on the first day of filming. You, Cha, and Jinho persuaded him to join in on a group selfie to commemorate the special occasion. The hopeful look in your eyes and the mirth in your smile causes Jinchul’s chest to feel heavy. He longs to return to happier times like this.

But those days were past and gone.

A monster came to Jindo Island, salted the earth with its rage, unleashed a burning inferno to incinerate all in its path.

And you disappeared with it in a sea of fire.

Tag list: @soft-dots @joannthebish @rokuxx6 @augurythirteen @princeizuku @vee-love @imaginarydreams @iamapotatoe @phisen @rai-xxx @ayam99920 @asylrd

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finelinefae · 4 months ago

Text

the regretful man

part 2 of the other woman

synopsis: harry is the regretful man who just needs to be loved

word count: 4.9k

contains: angst, smut?? if u could even call it that? (p in v, one night stand), smoking, mentions of alcohol

a/n: from me to you! happy new year !

. . .

Harry stood at the end of the aisle as people gathered to stand in the pews of the small church. Quiet chatter fell upon the families as they sat on opposite sides, eagerly awaiting for the ceremony to begin. He had double-checked the pockets of his suit to ensure he had everything with him to go perfectly.

The best man nodded his head at the officiate who raised his hand and asked for everybody to stand. Harry got into position as the piano began to play a gentle melody and the doors to the church opened.

In walked the bride with her arm looped with her father’s. Harry turned to face them both, capturing the sight of the families whose eyes were shining with tears and proud smiles. He held the camera to his eye and snapped a few shots of the bride before turning towards the groom who no longer looked nervous but relieved at the site of the woman he was going to marry.

Harry had lost count of the number of weddings he had photographed since leaving University ten years ago. He was thirty one now and over the years he had found himself enthralled in the world of wedding photography after setting up his own studio.

It wasn’t the career he had imagined for himself when he was an art student all those years ago. He had all these plans to be much bigger, more creative and artistically free, but fear became the better of him and he opted for the safer route - the one that kept a roof over his head.

As much as Harry’s job made other people happy, he couldn’t seem to find that happiness in himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt proud or fulfilled by the photographs he had taken. They’d become much too formulaic, people hired him because they liked his style and wanted it for themselves and he was beginning to grow tired of it.

After every wedding he promised himself he would move on to something new whatever that meant. Maybe he’d travel and start a blog or try and get into the fashion industry. Yet after every wedding, he’d find himself trapped in another and then another, until his ambitions of achieving something new were nothing but tiny dots in the distance.

Maybe this was where he was meant to be.

Taking pictures of love when the irony was he had never felt true love himself.

He sighed when the picture he took of the exchanging of the rings turned out blurry, quickly snapping a lazy shot once more to Photoshop later.

. . .

Although Harry had slowly fallen out of love with his passion for photography, there was no denying that the perks of an open bar were high on the list of benefits he received in his line of work.

The reception was loud and crowded, more people had arrived and filled up the marquet that was decorated with fairylights and a dance floor in the middle. Harry was a frequent visitor to the bar where they were serving wedding-themed cocktails that he had tested each one for himself.

His camera hung heavily around his neck. Occasionally, he would peek through the viewfinder to observe people and guess what they were up to—a game he enjoyed when the reception got too rowdy. If the mood struck him, he often didn't mind going home with someone or spending the night in their hotel room nearby.

Harry hadn’t been in a committed relationship for longer than a year. His longest standing girlfriend was his most recent ex who left him to move to Thailand with a group of people she had met. He wondered if it was his fault that people wouldn’t stay. Maybe there was something wrong with him.

He wasn’t even sure if he had been in love or what it was supposed to feel like. He had been told by most people that love was a craving, a longing to have a certain somebody close by even if it was just to be in their proximity. When people would ask him if he had ever felt that way he’d always say no but then a unsettling feeling weighed heavy on the back of his mind and memories of a certain someone would appear unwarranted.

His eyes roamed the room until they settled on one of the bridesmaids who had been flirting with him ever since he photographed them getting ready that morning. She was stunning, with long legs and flowing blonde hair. May as well, Harry thought, as he made his way toward her, watching as her throat bobbed and she flattened her hair when she caught him sifting through the crowd towards her.

“Hey,” Harry spoke, his voice coming out low.

“Hi,” She replied, shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“M Harry,” He introduced.

“I’m-”

“Lauren, I got you a coke but I can’t remember which one has vodka in it,” A voice appeared and a person holding two cokes in his hand came up to them.

“Ollie,” Lauren blushed taking one of the glasses, “You know I can’t drink.”

“I know,” Ollie shrugged, “Let me try them both and I’ll tell you which one is yours.”

Harry frowned, “Why can’t you drink?” He hoped it wasn’t for the reason he was thinking otherwise he’d have to think up a new escape plan.

“Oh I’m a model,” Lauren replied, “I can’t drink when I’m working.”

“This one’s yours,” Ollie handed her the coke with ice and a lemon floating inside it.

“Are you sure?” Lauren double checked before taking a sip and realising he was telling the truth.

Ollie glanced at Harry, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open. “Harry?”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “Do we know each other?”

Ollie nodded, “We went to University together, you came to my birthday party that one time remember?”

Harry froze. The muscles in his body tensed as fragments of memories he had spent a long time trying to forget began to resurface. It was a deep wound that hadn’t ever had a chance to heal and seeing Ollie standing in front of him after years of never seeing anyone from his uni days had opened the old wound up again.

“Of course,” Harry coughed, discomfort prickling his skin. He watched as Ollie’s eyes darted around the room, as if searching for someone. Seizing the moment, Harry quickly turned to Lauren. “I better get going.”

Lauren frowned, disheartened by his words. “Already? Don’t you want to stay and have a drink?”

Harry shook his head. “I think the bride’s parents are still waiting for their picture to be taken.” It was a lie, but it gave him the escape he needed. He made a swift exit before Ollie could divert his attention back to him.

Outside the tent, Harry exhaled, feeling the fresh, open air on his face. He reached into the inside pocket of his blazer, pulled out a cigarette, and cupped the end to light it. Taking a few drags, he shut his eyes, letting the smoke and the cool evening air calm his nerves.

The flicker of the lighter's flame had drawn a brief, warm glow on his face. As he leaned against a brick wall, Harry's thoughts raced back to the encounter with Ollie. The unease hadn't left him; it gnawed at the edges of his mind.

He inhaled deeply, savouring the nicotine rush, and then exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dissipate into the night.

Footsteps bristled through the grass as someone walked beside him, “Mind if I use your lighter?”

Harry froze, breath caught in his chest. The voice resonated with a haunting familiarity, like a whisper carried through the corridors of time. It stirred something deep within him, a forgotten tremor of emotion that had long been buried. For the first time in years, his heart stirred—a hesitant, stuttering beat, as if waking from a long slumber at the sound of someone in a past life he had tried to let go of.

A part of him recoiled, resisting the urge to meet the eyes he had spent so many years trying to erase from memory. But a deeper, more insistent part of him ached for revival, for the spark that only those eyes could ignite. Slowly, his head turned and he found himself captured in her gaze. Time fractured, spilling moments both painful and precious into the present. The world around him fell away, reduced to the space between them. In those eyes, he hoped to see the way she used to look at him - like he was actually worth something but there was nothing of the sort. Whatever she was feeling, she had learnt to shield. The ache in his chest tightened, raw and overwhelming.

She wore a black, off-the-shoulder dress that clung to her figure, His gaze lingered on her collarbones, sharp and delicate, and memories surged back with startling clarity. He recalled the warmth of her skin under his lips, the way she shivered as he traced tender kisses along her chest. The memory was so vivid it burned.

“Y-You smoke?” were the first words he spoke. Not hello, not how are you? Not how have you been? Do you have a boyfriend? Are you okay? I miss you—do you have a boyfriend?

“Not really,” She shrugs, “I just like the smell.”

The silence was palpable. Years of not knowing each other meant Harry had no clue how to start a conversation. His suave and charisma that he used with all the women he encountered had left him, she had rattled his bones, awoken the sleeping soul within his body. How was he meant to begin a conversation with a woman who had the power to do that to him?

“How have you been?” She asked.

He was startled by the question, it was unexpected and he wondered if she really cared. After all, the way he had left her in the bathroom at the birthday party had been his biggest regret. He could still remember the heartbreak on her face as he left her.

She scoffs, “I loved you once before Harry, do you honestly think I wouldn’t at least ask you how you were?”

He didn’t think that, he actually thought she wouldn’t remember him at all. He was a shitty person but there was nothing new about that.

“I’m okay,” He said, unconvincing. “I feel slightly unprepared. I wasn’t expecting to see you here or ever.”

“Do you need to be prepared to speak to me?” Y/N seemed to find that amusing, the slight tilt of her head and the hint of a smirk made his heart skip.

“Never,” He whispered. He never had to be prepared to speak to her because he was entirely himself whenever he was around her.

“I saw you at the wedding. Congratulations on the business by the way.”

“Yeah thanks.” He said, “It’s been good. Busy. You know how it is. How about you?”

“I’m an art teacher at a high school.” Harry nodded catching the look of pride on her face. Flashbacks of being in the same class as her and watching her paint. Despite having slept together and seeing her naked, he had never seen her more vulnerable than when she was painting. “It’s not a lot but I love it.”

“That’s what matters right?” Harry said, feeling like a hypocrite when his life was full of things he did just because he had to.

“It’s definitely a change from my university days,” she said with a chuckle, tucking her hair behind her ear. “God, I’m actually embarrassed thinking back. I was a train wreck.”

“I didn’t think so,” Harry blurted out, too quickly, his voice tripping over itself. “I—I mean—”

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk creeping back, though this time it was softer, almost fond. “Really? You were around for most of my breakdowns. I actually feel like I should apologise.”

“Don’t,” Harry said firmly, meeting her eyes. “You don’t need to apologise for anything.”

Her expression softened, the teasing edge giving way to something quieter. “Are you staying at the hotel next door?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, shifting slightly. “Third floor.”

“We’re on the first,” she said casually, though Harry caught the faintest pause in her tone. “It was the last room they had available.”

He stilled.

We.

His mind tripped over the word, echoing it back to him louder and louder. We. We. There was a we?

Of course there was. How could there not be? She was stunning, even more so now than when they were younger. Her skin seemed to glow, her cheeks were fuller, her eyes brighter. She looked healthy. Happy. And the thought of someone else seeing her like this—touching her, laughing with her the way he used to—made his chest feel tight, like something inside him was splintering.

“Ollie and I had to go halves,” she said, breaking through his spiralling thoughts. “He actually sewed this dress we found at a thrift store, and I bedazzled the flower on his suit.”

Harry’s shoulders dropped before he could stop himself, the tension ebbing away like a tide receding. He hoped to God she didn’t notice the relief that must’ve been plain on his face when she mentioned Ollie. Not a boyfriend. Not a lover. Just Ollie.

“It’s good to see you two are still friends,” Harry spoke.

“What about you? Are you here with anyone?” He noticed the way her collarbones tensed like she was holding her breath as she waited for his reply.

“No,” He confessed, “I’m alone.” He said, the word carrying more than she had asked for.

The air was heavy and quiet, the faint glow of the cigarette casting soft shadows as the smoke curled lazily around them. Y/N took one last drag before flicking the cigarette to the ground near his feet, her movements sharp and deliberate. When she turned to face him, her tear-streaked face caught him off guard.

“I thought I would hate seeing you,” she said, her voice breaking.

Harry stood frozen, words sticking in his throat.

“But suddenly…” she continued, her voice trembling as fresh tears fell, “I feel like I’m twenty years old again. And you were... really mean to me, Harry.”

His chest tightened at her words, at the raw vulnerability in her tone. His eyes softened as he stepped closer. “I know,” he murmured, his voice low and heavy with regret. “Hey, I know.”

Her shoulders shook, the sobs overtaking her, and without hesitation, Harry pulled her into his arms. He held her tightly, as though holding her might somehow take away the weight of all the pain he had caused.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he pressed his cheek against her hair. His own eyes burned, the threat of tears rising to the surface. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, but now it felt inevitable. “I didn’t mean to hurt you—not the way I did. I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t respond, but her grip on his shirt tightened as her tears soaked through the fabric. He didn’t say anything else, didn’t try to fill the silence with empty reassurances. He just held her, letting her cry, letting her feel whatever she needed to feel.

He thought to himself if there would ever come a day where he wouldn’t be the cause of her pain.

Eventually, her sobs quieted, leaving only the sound of her steadying breaths and the faint rustle of the wind around them. Y/N pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, her eyes red-rimmed. Her fingers stayed curled in his shirt.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” she said with a shaky laugh, brushing at her cheeks. “It’s been so long, and I told myself I was over it. Over you.”

Harry’s hands stayed on her waist, his touch firm but gentle. “You don’t have to explain,” he murmured. “I get it.”

She shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. “No, you don’t. You don’t get how much it hurt, Harry. You have no idea what it feels like having the one person you loved leave you.”

“I do,” he said, his voice firm now, his eyes searching hers. “I do, Y/N. And I hate myself for it. Every single day, I hate myself for it.”

Her breath hitched at the raw honesty in his tone, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, the air between them charged and electric. She wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly, their faces were inches apart. Her eyes flicked to his lips, and he caught the movement, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Don’t,” she said, her voice trembling but insistent. “Don’t say anything.”

And then she kissed him.

It was sudden and messy, her lips crashing against his with a desperation that mirrored everything she was feeling. Harry didn’t hesitate, his arms tightening around her as he kissed her back just as fervently. The years of distance, the pain, the anger—all of it seemed to melt away in the heat of the moment. His hand came up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear as his lips moved with hers.

She let out a soft, broken sound, her hands gripping his shirt as though afraid he might disappear if she let go. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, pouring everything he couldn’t say into it—his regret, his longing, his love.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Her eyes fluttered open, searching his face, and he could see the conflict written across her features.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Neither do I,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Let’s go to your room,” She whispered.

“A-are you sure?” He furrowed his brows.

“One night,” She said, “Just one night.”

Harry searched her eyes, his breath catching in his throat. He saw the resolve there, mixed with a vulnerability that mirrored his own. For a moment, he hesitated, the weight of what this meant pressing down on him.

But then she nodded, as if to reassure him, and he found himself nodding back. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, though his heart was pounding like a drum. “Okay.”

She took his hand, her grip firm but trembling slightly, and he let her lead him through the dimly lit courtyard toward the hotel. The air between them buzzed with an unspoken tension, neither of them saying a word as they walked, their footsteps echoing softly on the pavement.

He led her to the elevator, the soft chime of the doors opening breaking the silence. They stepped in, the small space suddenly feeling suffocating as the weight of what they were about to do settled over them. Harry’s thumb brushed against her hand absentmindedly, grounding himself in the contact.

When the elevator doors finally opened, Harry guided her down the hallway, stopping in front of his room. His hands shook slightly as he pulled the key card from his pocket and slid it into the slot. The door clicked open, and he stepped aside to let her in first.

She walked in, pausing in the middle of the room, her arms crossed loosely as she took it all in. The space was small and unremarkable, a standard hotel room, but it didn’t seem to matter.

Harry closed the door behind him, turning to face her. “Y/N,” he began, but she shook her head, cutting him off.

“One night, Harry,” she said softly, her voice tinged with a mixture of determination and fragility. “Just one night. No promises, no expectations. Just... this.”

He swallowed hard, his chest tightening as he nodded. “Just this,” he echoed, stepping closer.

She met him halfway, her hands reaching up to cup his face as their lips met again, this time slower, more deliberate. There was no rush now, no frantic desperation—just the quiet intensity of two people trying to find something they’d lost.

His hands settled on her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. Every touch felt charged, every movement intended, as if they were trying to memorise each other all over again.

Harry pulled back just enough to search her eyes, his thumb brushing against her cheek, as if grounding himself in the moment. “Are you sure?” he asked one last time, his voice rough and unsteady.

Her answer wasn’t in words but in action—swift, certain, and unrelenting. She hooked her hands behind his neck and pulled him down into another kiss. It was messy, all-consuming, the kind of kiss that left no room for hesitation. Their teeth bumped, tongues tangling in a way that was almost desperate, as though both of them were trying to erase years of unspoken longing.

Harry’s hands found the back of her thighs, gripping firmly as he lifted her effortlessly. She gasped into his mouth but didn’t break the kiss, her arms tightening around his shoulders as he carried her toward the bed. The soft thud of her back meeting the mattress sent a jolt through him, his breath hitching as he hovered over her.

Her hands were already tugging at the hem of his shirt, fingers brushing against his warm skin as she pulled it upward. He shifted, breaking the kiss just long enough to help her remove it, the fabric landing somewhere on the floor.

Harry’s hand slid to her shoulder, his fingers trailing along the strap of her dress. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering to hers for silent permission. She gave him a small nod, and he pushed the strap down slowly, his fingertips grazing her bare skin and leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

As her dress began to fall away, her hands roamed over his chest, her nails scraping lightly against his skin. His breath hitched, and he leaned down, pressing his lips to her collarbone, then lower, his movements deliberate but unhurried.

His hand travelled up her thigh, his fingertips brushing against her soft skin, sending shivers through her. He moved with a reverence that made her heart ache—a mix of tenderness and hunger that felt like it might undo her entirely.

His hand slipped lower, finding the edge of her underwear. Gently, he hooked his fingers into the delicate fabric, sliding it down her legs in one fluid motion. He paused, his touch lingering just enough to let her know he wasn’t rushing, wasn’t taking anything for granted. His eyes found hers again, and the unspoken connection between them felt like it might swallow them both whole.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice barely audible but thick with meaning, before leaning in to kiss her again, his lips brushing hers with a tenderness that sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/N’s eyes burned with emotion, her chest tightening as she watched him. It had been so long since someone had looked at her the way Harry did, with a mix of tenderness and hunger that made her feel like the only person in the world. She knew he hadn’t always loved her—not the way she’d wanted him to—but in moments like this, she let herself believe he had.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his messy curls, his movements slow and deliberate. The soft clink of his belt buckle echoed in the room as he undid it, placing it aside before reaching into the bedside table for a condom.

Y/N moved closer, her chest pressing warmly against his back. Her lips found his shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss there, lingering just long enough to make him pause. She felt him still under her touch, his breathing deepening as he tore open the foil.

“Remember when I did that for you?” she murmured, her lips brushing against his skin. She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel the small smile spreading across his lips.

He chuckled softly, a low sound that made her heart ache. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rough with fondness and something heavier. He turned just enough to kiss the corner of her mouth,

Harry shifted, turning fully to face her, capturing her lips in a full, unhurried kiss. His hands moved to her waist, guiding her back onto the bed, her body sinking into the soft mattress. For a moment, he just looked at her—her hair splayed out like a halo on the pillow, her lips slightly swollen from their kiss, her chest rising and falling as she pushed her legs apart for him, ready and waiting, like she always did whenever they had sex. Spreading herself open to him.

His cock slid into her, her eyes squeezing shut, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp. He could feel every inch of her around him, all of his senses were overwhelmed by her. They were like two pieces of the same puzzle coming together as he pushed himself all the way inside of her.

Y/N released a shaky breath, her eyes fluttering open, and Harry couldn’t look away. Her gaze sparkled in the soft yellow glow of the hotel room light, and when she reached up to push his curls back and cup his cheek, he leaned into her touch like a man starved. A tear slipped from his eye, unbidden, and she brushed it away with her thumb.

He began to move, slow and deliberate, his hips rolling with a teasing gentleness that made her lips part. He wanted this moment to last forever. He wanted to stay inside of her forever. He wanted to feel every piece of her forever.

She writhed beneath him, whimpering and whining and begging for more of him. He would give it all to her, everything she asked of him he would give it all. “Harry,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“I don’t want to stop,” he murmured into her ear, his voice raw and honest. His chest tightened with the weight of the moment, of the years between them, of the undeniable connection they still shared.

“Then don’t,” she replied, her breath hitching as she pulled him closer. “Don’t stop.”

. . .

They lay down flat on their back looking up at the ceiling, sated and empty. Her head was on his chest as he smoked a cigarette. The smell bought them both back to the times he would smoke whenever they had sex.

"When you walk away tomorrow," she murmured, her voice soft but laced with a hint of vulnerability, "you walk away with a piece of me."

Harry paused, the cigarette resting between his fingers as he turned his gaze toward her. His chest tightened at her words, an ache that had nothing to do with the smoke still curling in the air. "I feel like I’ve been walking with you for much longer than you think," he replied quietly.

She smiled at that but inside he was dying.

. . .

A year later, Harry stood in the soft glow of a local art gallery. His photographs adorned the walls, strangers moving among them with quiet murmurs of appreciation. The evening had been surreal—people lingered, commented, and even bought pieces he’d always thought too personal to share.

As the closing hour approached, Harry found himself alone with one particular photograph. It was his favourite, though he’d never admitted that aloud. A pair of beautiful eyes that he had spent a small chunk of his youth watching the world through. The gallery was quieter now, and the chatter of earlier felt like a distant echo. He stared at the image, letting his thoughts dissolve into it.

The click of heels against the polished floor shattered the stillness. He felt the presence beside him before he turned.

“That’s the ugliest piece of shit I’ve ever seen,” a voice said, low and familiar.

His heart skipped, his breath catching in his throat.

“Yeah?” His lips twitched, caught between amusement and disbelief.

“I love it.”

“You do?”

“I adore it.”

“Good.”

He finally turned his head, but the space beside him was empty. He froze, scanning the room, his pulse hammering in his ears. For a moment, he swore he caught the faint smell of paint and lavender in the air. His head spun in search of them only to find a man standing alone in the room, “Excuse me,” Harry approached, “Did you see a woman walk in?”

The stranger shook his head and turned back to the photos without another word.

Harry’s shoulders sagged under the weight of disappointment. With a quiet sigh, he reached into his suit jacket for his phone to call a taxi. It was the same suit he always wore for work—every wedding, every shoot. The fabric was worn at the elbows, but he didn’t have the time or effort to go out and buy a new one.

As he pulled the phone free, something slipped from the pocket and fluttered to the floor.

A slip of paper.

Harry blinked, crouching to pick it up. His breath caught as his eyes landed on the words scrawled across it in hurried, looping handwriting: A piece of me.

He flipped it over. A phone number stared back at him.

Harry’s heart raced, each beat echoing in his ears. His hands trembled as he entered the phone number into his phone. He put the number into his phone and typed out the only response he had been desperate to give her in answer to the plea that had haunted him for years.

I love you.

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loveesiren · 11 days ago

Text

𝖢𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖬𝗒 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 (𝖯𝗍. 8)

Choi Seunghyun x fem!reader x Kwon Jiyong | Masterlist

a/n: As always, I'm using Jiyong and Seunghyun as characters. I'm not in any way shape or form suggesting that they'd act this way in real life.

synopsis: Feelings are hurt, grief is a strange thing, we take it out in weird ways. But Seunghyun and Y/n just want their friend to wake up.

warnings: dark i guess, hospital, car accident, rough slightly unwanted sex (borderline grape I guess but not graphic), angst, lots of feels, drunk editing, MDNI 18+, if you'd like a summary without reading, DM me

wc: 4.3k+

The crash was horrific. Jiyong hadn’t seen the semi barreling through the intersection until it was too late. There was a sickening crunch of metal meeting metal, then the world turned upside down—literally. His car flipped, once, twice, three times, the screech of twisting steel and shattering glass echoing through the night. The engine ignited on the final roll, flames licking hungrily along the crumpled hood, black smoke curling into the air like a wild fire.

By the time you and Seunghyun had made it outside it was pure chaos. Sirens howled. Lights flashed. A crowd had gathered, necks craned, camera phones out, some already recording. But none of it registered. All you saw was the burning wreckage—and the stranger. A man covered in soot, hands trembling, dragging Jiyong’s limp body across the pavement just seconds before the car exploded behind him, sending a burst of heat and debris into the air. That man, whoever he was, had saved his life.

Your legs buckled at the sight.

The glare from the ambulance flood lights seared into your eyes, making it hard to focus. Police shouted over radios, trying to push back the growing crowd, and the paparazzi—fucking vultures—had somehow shown up already, shouting questions, snapping photos. It was too much. Your lungs seized. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. You wanted to run, to scream, to disappear.

Jiyong's body—so pale, so bloody, his face barely recognizable—was carefully loaded into the back of the ambulance. You couldn’t stop crying. The tears came like a dam breaking, soaking your face, your shirt, your trembling hands. Seunghyun pulled you into his side, one arm wrapping around you tightly as if trying to shield you from the nightmare unfolding. His face was buried in your hair, his own sobs shaking both of you as you stood there, helpless, watching the man you both loved so much disappear behind those white ambulance doors.

The hospital waiting area felt like the backrooms.

Too bright. Too sterile. Too quiet — except for the occasional ring of a phone at the reception desk or the rhythmic clacking of keys from someone behind the counter. But even those sounds felt muted, distant, like the world was operating at half-speed while all of you sat frozen in a grief that hadn’t even fully arrived yet.

You sat curled up on the stiff plastic chair, knees drawn to your chest, arms wrapped around your shins like they could somehow keep you from unraveling completely. Seunghyun was beside you, close enough to feel his presence but not touching. Neither of you could. There was too much space between you now, and none of it had to do with physical distance.

Across from you, Daesung stared blankly at the floor, his fingers twitching against his leg. Taeyang kept rubbing his hands together, like he could pray the panic away. Seungri looked like he’d aged ten years in the last hour, chewing on the edge of his thumb, phone clutched tightly in his other hand though he hadn’t looked at it in a while. Not really.

They were all waiting. Hoping. Dreading.

Jiyong’s manager sat silently in the far corner, head bowed, lips pressed into a tight line. A few YG staffers dotted the waiting room, whispering among themselves, but their presence felt like white noise. No one was really speaking. What could they possibly say?

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at anyone. Your vision swam, not from tears — not yet — but from the pressure of holding them back. You blinked furiously, refusing to let them fall. Not here. Not now. Not in front of them.

Because this was your fault.

Every single agonizing minute that passed, you reminded yourself of that.

He’d been leaving your apartment. After your fight. After you'd shattered him with words you couldn’t take back. You could still hear the slam of the door. You could still feel the weight of his anger, his heartbreak, pressing down on your chest.

You buried your face in your arms. It hurt to breathe.

Beside you, Seunghyun leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles were bone white. He hadn’t spoken since arriving at the hospital. Hadn’t moved much either. But his mind was racing.

It was his fault too.

He should’ve taken Jiyong’s keys. He should’ve told him to stay the night. He should’ve been a better friend — his best friend. But instead, he let him walk out of that bar. Walk out of your apartment. Stumbling and furious, still drunk, still hurting.

And now they were all sitting here, waiting to find out if Jiyong would wake up at all.

Seunghyun glanced at you from the corner of his eye — your small, shaking form beside him, silent tears finally sliding down your cheeks.

He wanted to reach for you. Wanted to hold you and tell you everything was going to be okay.

But it wouldn’t have been true.

And the truth was — neither of you knew who you were grieving harder for:

Jiyong…

Or the pieces of yourselves that had broken beyond repair.

The sterile hush of the hospital waiting room shattered as the doors creaked open and the doctor stepped out, clipboard in hand, his expression unreadable.

Jiyong’s manager was on his feet before anyone else could even register the movement.

“What’s going on?” he asked, urgency sharpening his voice.

“We need to speak to his family,” the doctor replied, scanning the room with a professional detachment that made your stomach twist.

“His family is on their way,” his manager said quickly, already stepping forward. “But I’m his manager. I’ve been listed on his emergency contacts. We can speak, let’s go talk.” He said, voice eager.

The doctor hesitated for a moment, then gave a tight nod. Without another word, he turned and let himself be led down the hall, disappearing behind the same doors Jiyong had vanished through over an hour ago.

The silence left in their wake was heavier than anything that came before it.

Taeyang sat forward, rubbing his hands over his face before looking at Seunghyun, eyes narrowed with confusion and fear.

“So… what the hell happened?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Didn’t you guys go out tonight?”

Every nerve in your body lit up like a warning flare.

You couldn’t breathe. Your chest rose and fell in rapid bursts. Your palms were slick with sweat. You could feel the stares of the other boys — of everyone — even if they weren’t looking directly at you. The pressure was suffocating. The truth was crawling its way to the surface, clawing through the cracks like smoke before a fire.

Seunghyun inhaled slowly. His jaw tightened. You felt his hand come to rest on your knee, grounding you for just a second. But it wasn’t comfort. It was confirmation.

“He was drunk,” Seunghyun said quietly, his voice low and rough.

That was it. Just those three words.

Taeyang flinched slightly, and Daesung swore under his breath.

“He was drunk,” Seunghyun repeated, more to himself now, like he was trying to make sense of it, trying to say it enough times to believe it. “And stupid.”

You bit down hard on your lip, hard enough to taste blood. Tears stung the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. You couldn’t. Not yet.

Because even if Seunghyun was technically right, it wasn’t the whole story. Jiyong had been drunk, yes. And reckless. But he hadn’t crashed just because of the alcohol in his veins.

He had crashed because of you.

Because he had stormed out of your apartment with your voice still echoing in his head — every bitter word, every rejection, every cruel truth you hadn't meant to come out the way it did. He’d left with a cracked-open heart and nowhere to put the pieces.

You had taken away the one thing he didn’t even realize he wanted until it was already gone.

A child.

A future.

A family.

And that was what had been driving him faster than he should have been. That was what blurred his vision more than the whiskey ever could. That was what made him miss the light. What made him not see the semi barreling through the far too busy intersection outside your apartment.

Yes, Jiyong had been drunk.

But he had also been hurting.

The doctors, the lawyers, the managers — they’d sort it all out. They’d write it up in reports and argue it in meetings. There would be contracts and coverage and headlines. They’d fix it up for the public.

But none of that changed the truth.

He had been speeding away from your front door with a black hole in his chest, crushed beneath the weight of the love he couldn't keep, and the future he didn’t get to fight for.

And now all any of you could do was wait.

Wait for news.

Wait for forgiveness.

Wait for a miracle.

You stood up without saying a word. No one tried to stop you. No one even looked up. Maybe they understood, or maybe they just didn’t know how to speak anymore. Either way, you were grateful. You needed the air. Needed the distance. Needed a break from the guilt pressing down on your chest.

Outside, the night was cool and still, and the moment the sliding ER doors shut behind you, it was like someone turned the volume down on the world. The hospital buzz faded, replaced by the soft hum of passing cars and the gentle breeze rustling the trees nearby.

You lit your cigarette with shaking fingers, bringing it to your lips like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. The smoke filled your lungs, acrid and warm, and for just a second, you could almost pretend none of this was real. Almost.

You were halfway through your cigarette when you heard the doors behind you hiss open again.

You didn’t turn around. Not at first. You just exhaled slowly, hoping—praying—it wasn’t anyone. That you could just be alone with your guilt for a little while longer.

But then you saw him out of the corner of your eye.

Seunghyun.

He looked nothing like the man you knew.

His shoulders were hunched, his expression hollow, like someone had scooped the life out of him and left the shell behind. His hands were in his pockets. His eyes were red-rimmed, though you weren’t sure if it was from crying or just exhaustion. Or maybe both.

You silently held out your cigarette pack and the lighter.

He took one wordlessly, and sat down beside you on the low stone wall near the hospital entrance. The click of the lighter was the only sound between you as he lit up, inhaling deep like he needed it more than air.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment. You just stared up at the night sky, the stars shining far too brightly for how dark the world felt right now.

You wanted to reach for his hand. You wanted to press your palm against his, to offer some kind of comfort, even if you didn’t deserve to give it. But you didn’t move.

“Seunghyun, I—” you started, voice thin and raw.

But he didn’t let you finish.

“You should go home,” he said, cutting you off with a quiet firmness that hurt more than if he’d yelled.

You looked down at your shoes, swallowing hard. “I-I don’t want to go back there…” you muttered, barely audible.

The words carried too much weight.

Your apartment. The place where Jiyong had stood broken and shaking, where the worst things had been said. Where you’d sent him out into the night with a wound he hadn’t been able to outrun.

You couldn’t go back to that.

Seunghyun sighed, and the sound was so heavy it made your chest tighten all over again. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his keys and holding them out to you.

“Here,” he said. “Go to my place.”

You hesitated. “I—”

“I don’t want you here,” he said, voice sharper now. Not yelling. Just... tired. Defeated. Final.

The words sliced through you like glass. You flinched, your hand recoiling from the keys even though you knew he wasn’t wrong.

“I want to make sure—”

“I’ll call if there’s an update,” he said, already turning his gaze away. “Just...go.”

You stared at him, your vision going blurry with tears. But you knew better than to argue. Not now. Not with him. Not with everything so fragile and raw.

You nodded, swallowing the sob threatening to climb your throat.

You called an Uber and didn’t look back.

Seunghyun’s apartment welcomed you like a ghost. Everything was familiar — the scent of his cologne still clinging to the air, the soft hum of the fridge, the faint echo of laughter that only existed in your memory now.

You walked slowly through the space, your fingers trailing over the back of the couch, the counter, the hallway wall — like touching these things would somehow bring you back to a time when this place felt like home. When he felt like home.

You reached the bedroom and stripped out of your clothes with a kind of numb autopilot. You opened his drawer and pulled out one of his oversized t-shirts — the one he always wore on lazy Sunday mornings.

You slipped it over your head, the fabric brushing your skin with a familiar comfort, and for a moment, it felt like you could still feel his arms around you.

But it wasn’t real.

You climbed into his bed, curling into his side of the bed, breathing in the remnants of him like they were oxygen.

And then it hit you.

All of it.

The crash.

The guilt.

The fact that Jiyong might never open his eyes again.

The fact that Seunghyun was done with you.

The fact that you may have lost everything.

A choking sob ripped from your throat as you curled into yourself, burying your face into his pillow.

Your body shook with quiet, helpless grief.

Tonight had changed everything.

And there was no going back.

The loud slam of the front door jolted you awake. Your entire body tensed, your heart hammering in your chest as your mind scrambled to make sense of where you were.

Then it hit you. Seunghyun’s house.

You sat up slowly, blinking through the haze of sleep. The room was dim, lit only by the morning sun peaking through the blinds, casting pale shadows across the walls. You strained to hear footsteps, movement — anything — but the house had gone quiet again.

It had to be him. He must’ve come home from the hospital.

You waited, every second dragging out painfully as dread curled in your stomach. You counted the minutes in your head, clinging to the silence like it might give you an answer.

After what felt like forever, you heard the soft creak of the bedroom door.

Seunghyun stepped in.

He barely looked at you.

His eyes skimmed over your presence in his bed like you were furniture, like you weren’t someone he had once called “baby,” someone he had once held so carefully.

Without a word, he walked past you and shut the bathroom door behind him.

You sat frozen, still beneath the blankets, unsure what to do. Your skin pricked with nerves. Did he want you here? Did he even remember that he’d told you to come? Or had that been guilt talking?

The weight of your thoughts crushed you. You laid back down, curling onto your side, arms wrapped tightly around your core. Your heart felt like it might crack open. You whispered a quiet prayer into the silence, not for yourself, but for Jiyong.

Please let him be okay.

Fifteen agonizing minutes passed before the bathroom door opened again. You glanced over your shoulder as Seunghyun walked back into the room, dressed in nothing but his boxers. He climbed into bed beside you wordlessly and grabbed the remote, flicking on the TV. An old sitcom started to play — something bright, cheerful, completely out of place against the oppressive weight in the room.

You chewed your bottom lip, uncertain. The air between you was too thick with unspoken grief and regret. Still, you tried.

“Seunghyun…” you said softly.

No response.

He stared at the screen, his face expressionless.

You tried again, your voice cracking with hesitation. “Is… is there any update? On Ji?”

He took a slow breath through his nose. The pause before he answered made your chest tighten.

“He’s out of surgery,” he finally said. His voice was flat, tired. “Hasn’t woken up yet.”

You felt the sting of tears in your eyes again, but blinked them back quickly. You didn’t deserve to cry. Not after everything.

“Is he going to be okay?” you asked, barely able to form the words.

“I-I don’t know, Y/n,” he said, and for the first time since he got home, there was emotion behind his voice. Sadness. Defeat. “His family’s with him. They told us to go home…rest.”

You pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. A long silence passed before you worked up the nerve to ask, “D-Do you want me to leave?”

The question hung in the air like a loaded gun.

He was quiet for a long time, and just when you were sure he wasn’t going to answer, he whispered, “No.”

You were stunned.

You didn’t know what he meant. You didn’t know if it was love, or guilt, or just the unbearable weight of being alone right now. But you didn’t argue. You didn’t say another word.

You sat in silence beside him, the two of you watching the flicker of people laughing on a screen neither of you were really seeing.

Thirty minutes passed like that. Maybe longer.

Then, without warning, his hand moved. Slowly. Deliberately.

It slid across the bed and settled on your thigh. Warm. Heavy. Familiar yet foreign.

His fingers crept higher, brushing the edge of your panties, and your breath caught in your throat. Your body reacted before your brain could catch up — tension coiled in your belly, heat blooming where his fingers hovered.

You turned toward him instinctively, crawling over his hips, straddling him.

Your lips met in a rush of desperation and pain. He didn’t pull back. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, deeper. One slid down your back, gripping your ass roughly. His nails dug in. Then came the sharp crack of his palm landing on your cheek.

You whimpered into his mouth.

And that sound — that soft, broken sound — snapped something in him.

He flipped you beneath him with a strength that startled you, not even bothering to undress fully before pushing his boxers down just enough to free himself. He didn’t pause, didn’t ask, didn’t look at you. He pushed your panties to the side.

You didn’t even have time to prepare before he shoved into you.

You cried out, the stretch almost painful. Your nails dug into his shoulders, trying to ground yourself, but he didn’t slow down. Didn’t soften.

He thrust into you hard, fast, his pace punishing. You felt the bed frame creak under the force of it, your breath catching as his hand wrapped around your throat.

“Seunghyun…” you whimpered, your voice strangled.

He leaned close, grunting in your ear, his fingers tightening.

You could feel it now — this wasn’t intimacy. This wasn’t love.

It was anger.

Grief.

Trauma.

“Was he better than me?” he whispered, his voice venomous, hips snapping forward harder.

You gasped at the sting, tears springing to your eyes.

“Who fucks you better, huh?”

“Seunghyun!” you screamed, shoving at his chest. “You’re hurting me!”

He froze for a split second.

You pushed again, harder this time, and he rolled off of you, chest heaving as the realization of what just happened hit him like a freight train.

He stared at you — really saw you now — your eyes red, your body trembling, clutching the sheets tightly around you like a shield.

The darkness in his eyes vanished, replaced by horror.

“Shit,” he whispered, sitting up and dragging both hands through his hair. “Shit, Y/n… I’m—I’m so sorry.”

You couldn’t answer. You couldn’t even look at him.

You choked back a sob, stumbling out of bed and rushing to the bathroom. You locked the door behind you, pressing your back to it, sliding to the cold tile floor.

And there, in the silence…you broke.

“Y/n, please…” Seunghyun’s voice came through the door, broken and muffled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear to god I didn’t…”

You sat on the cold tile floor, your knees hugged to your chest, arms trembling as your fingers dug into your skin. The sobs shook through you violently, unstoppable, as the night played over and over in your head like a film reel you couldn't turn off.

Everything was broken.

Jiyong. Seunghyun.You.

The man you loved had just used you as an outlet for his pain — not a partner, not someone to hold, but someone to unload on. You felt every thrust like an accusation. Every movement screamed at you: You did this. You destroyed us. You ruined everything.

But it wasn’t just anger. It was grief. It was guilt. It was heartbreak on both ends, a tangle of too many things neither of you had the tools to process.

“I’m sorry,” Seunghyun choked out again. You could hear the weight in his voice, the kind of sorrow that buckled you at the knees. “Please, can we just talk? I can’t breathe without knowing you’re okay…”

And still, even with how scared you were… your heart ached for him.

You loved him. So fucking much.

Maybe that was the worst part — that even after what had just happened, a part of you still wanted to comfort him. To reach for him. To fix what was already in ruins.

Maybe you deserved it.

Maybe you didn’t.

You shifted, hands trembling as you unlocked the bathroom door and slowly cracked it open.

He was sitting right outside, legs folded beneath him, arms resting on his knees. He looked… small. Tired. Wrecked. He’d changed into sweats and an old, worn t-shirt, the one he usually slept in when you stayed over. His eyes were red, tear tracks still glistening on his cheeks.

You tugged your borrowed shirt down, trying to cover yourself, suddenly painfully aware of your body. His gaze flicked to you and quickly away, like even he couldn’t look at what he’d done.

Without a word, he grabbed the blanket off the bed and handed it to you. You took it, wrapping it tightly around yourself, grateful for the shield between you.

You sat beside him, leaning back against the wall, your shoulders just barely brushing. The silence was suffocating, but you weren’t ready to break it.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n,” Seunghyun whispered, voice hoarse with emotion. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You swallowed, staring blankly at the floor. “Yeah. I did.”

“No.” His voice snapped sharper now, filled with conviction. “No, you didn’t.”

He turned to you then, really turned, his eyes bloodshot and wide. “I took everything I was feeling and dumped it on you. I used you. That’s not love. That’s not who I want to be. That’s not who I am.”

You opened your mouth, but all that came out was a shaky breath.

“I caused all of this,” you finally said, your voice so small it was barely audible.

He sighed and dropped his face into his hands. “I don’t even know how to start this conversation.”

“I don’t think it’s the time to have it,” you whispered.

He nodded slowly. “You’re right.”

The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It was heavy. Wounded.

You stared ahead, unsure if you were waiting for something or if there was simply nothing left to say. Until finally…

“D-Did you tell everyone the whole story?” you asked, heart pounding in your chest.

He shook his head, slow and deliberate. “No. Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“I want Jiyong to wake up first,” he said, his voice cracking at the name. “I want him to be okay. I just… I need him to be okay so bad, Y/n. He’s my best friend.”

And then he crumbled.

He collapsed into your lap and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as the sobs came. Violent. Uncontrolled.

You held him without thinking. Your hands tangled in his hair, your lips pressed to the crown of his head. And then you were crying too. The two of you sobbing into each other, curled up on the bedroom floor like children who had just lost their favorite toy.

You cried for Jiyong.

For yourselves.

For the pieces of this mess you didn’t know how to put back together.

An hour passed like that. Eventually, the tears dried, leaving nothing but swollen eyes and silent exhaustion.

“Seunghyun,” you whispered, brushing the hair from his forehead. “Have you slept?”

He sniffled and shook his head. “Not really.”

“You need rest,” you said gently.

He nodded, eyes fluttering. “Will you… rub my back?”

His voice cracked again, soft and wounded, like a little boy asking his mother for comfort. It nearly broke you all over again.

You smiled through the ache. Remembering the last few months how you coaxed him to sleep that way. “Yeah. I will.”

You helped him into bed, pulling the blankets over both of you as he curled onto his side. You slid in behind him, your fingers trailing lightly across his bare back. Drawing soft shapes like you used to. Slow, soothing motions to ease him into rest.

His breathing began to slow. His body finally relaxed.

And you stayed there, in the quiet, drawing circles into his skin and wondering if either of you would ever feel whole again.

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