#been thinking of making a fic inspired by it but NOW I REALLY WANT TO

[ylangelegy]

what the fuKCKENFR IM SO MAD I CANT REBLOG YOUR POSTS OR MSG U ON MY SIDEBLOG RN COS ANOTHER??? HOZIER??? FIC????

(work song next WHHAT WHO SAID THAT)

so full of love (i could barely eat) 🍒 seungcheol x reader.

★ established relationship, pet name ['baby'], inspired by hozier's work song. viv, i know this was supposed to be in response to worship in the bedroom (and not really a serious request), but the thought of cheol x work song did not let me go. a little gift for u. <3 word count: 755.

It’s nearly two in the morning when Seungcheol gets home. 

One of those days, he likes to call it. He had been out of the apartment before the sun rose up, had jumped from one schedule to another with something akin to reckless abandon. Fan meet. Radio show. Practice. Meeting.

When he’s busy, the exhaustion is kept at bay. There’s no time to think about the phantom ache behind his knee, the pesky soreness of his thigh.

But then he walks through the front door and it all comes crashing down on him. Suddenly, he is Atlas, bearing the heavens on his shoulders. 

He toes off his shoes with a soft sigh. Evidence of you is apparent from the entryway. The kitchen light has been left on. The humidifier is spewing one of his favorite scents. A collection of sweet nothings, none of which he thinks he deserves.

Had he even texted you today? Seungcheol isn’t certain. He remembers seeing your texts light up his screen, though. Gentle reminders from morning to evening. 

Don’t forget your vitamins. 

Grab lunch. 

Bundle up. It’s snowing, and your bones are weak to the cold. 

Seungcheol had listened at each turn, whether or not he realized it. A multivitamin from Seungkwan. A sandwich hurriedly eaten on the way to the studio. The scarf you had given him, the one that still faintly smelled like you.

He knows there’s probably food waiting for him in the microwave, knows you’ve likely set aside a plate in anticipation of his late arrival. Seungcheol bypasses it in favor of heading for your shared bedroom. 

Sure enough, you’re already asleep. He’ll realize a little later that you texted about that, too— a message of might be asleep when you get home, I love you— but for now, he only lingers by the doorway as he watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest. 

He feels everything then. The gnaw of guilt. The overwhelming affection. The urge to protect and provide. 

As quietly as he can manage, Seungcheol crosses the room. He can already predict how you’re going to react to him sinking into bed and sliding underneath the covers with you. 

You stir in your sleep at the feeling of Seungcheol snaking his arm around your waist. Despite being half-awake, you have the wits to mumble, “You’re still wearing outside clothes.” 

Bingo. 

Seungcheol knew it, and the thought of that— of correctly predicting what you might do or say— fills him with an odd sense of pride. He doesn’t give voice to it, though, not wanting to rouse you more than he already has. 

“I’ll change.” His voice is a murmur even though there’s no other soul in the apartment besides you two. Something about the early hour and the low light makes him feel like he should tread carefully, like the moment is as fragile as ice on a lake. “Just wanted to hold you for a bit, baby.” 

You grumble something incoherent, the words lost to the way you bury your face into the front of Seungcheol’s shirt. And suddenly Seungcheol can’t help himself. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. Then one to your forehead. Then one to your temple. Then—

“Cheol.” You whine out his name, your tone edged with exhaustion. You never did take kindly to your sleep being interrupted. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he huffs. 

He kisses the tip of your nose for good measure. 

It’s one of those days. Seungcheol is bone-tired, and home late, and he missed you. If he were a stronger man, a better man, he’d let you sleep. Stalk off to eat his microwaved dinner and change into his pajamas so you don’t gripe about dirty sheets in the morning. 

Seungcheol decides: He’s not a good man. And so instead he holds you a little tighter, leaves a couple more kisses across your face, allows his body to let go of the day’s weight. 

After his nth kiss to your face, you let out another low grumble. He��s about to apologize, about to tell you that he’ll finally, finally let off, when you tilt your head up to lazily slot your lips against his. You’re barely coherent, and yet you’re still giving him exactly what he wants needs. 

Soft, sleepy, sweet. His, his, his.

Seungcheol’s eyes flutter close. He makes no move to deepen the kiss, to ask for more than what you can offer. 

In your arms, he feels a little less like Atlas. 

In your arms, he’s just Seungcheol. 

There's nothin' sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be She'd give me toothaches just from kissin' me

[alltheeya]

It's you || l.hs

genre: friends to lovers, fluff!!!

word count: 6k

a/n: not really the inspo for the fic, but i watched the video of Henry Lau, confessing "It's You" was inspired by Bae Suzy. He also sang it to her, occasionally switching the lyrics to "It's Suzy". i don't ship, but i just got so much butterflies from that vid so i used the song as the title and inserted it somewhere here hehe hdjkvhkjsdv anyways enjoy my first ever fic!

warnings: mentions of food/picnic, probs weird flow of events bcs of the writing(?) lol sorry, reader being too shy and nervous?, heeseung being flirty and sweet?, they kiss at the end <3

It was a sunny afternoon when Heeseung and I met for our date. The sky was clear, the air just warm enough to make the idea of a picnic in the park feel perfect. I had never been one for super romantic, cliché dates, but something about this felt... right. 

When I got to the park, I saw him standing by the entrance, looking as effortlessly charming as always. He was holding a basket, a blanket tucked under his arm, and the unmistakable shape of his guitar slung over his shoulder. He had that soft, easy smile on his face, the one I’d come to realize was reserved just for me.

I couldn’t help but feel a bit flustered as I approached him. I had picked out a cute little sundress for the occasion, and although it was just something simple, it felt perfect for the day, for the moment. The dress fluttered lightly with every step, and as I got closer, I saw Heeseung’s eyes light up as he took in my appearance.

"You look... amazing," he said, his voice filled with sincerity, and for a split second, I felt like all the attention in the world was on me. I blushed, suddenly self-conscious.

"Thanks," I said shyly, my fingers playing nervously with the straps of my dress. "You don’t look too bad yourself."

He chuckled, that little teasing smile of his dancing on his lips. "I’m glad you think so."

He stepped forward to greet me, his hands full with the items he had carried. "Here," he said, lifting the picnic basket and blanket in his hands. "I was going to wait until you got here, but now that you’re here, I—"

My eyes drifted to the guitar slung over his shoulder, curiosity piquing. "What’s the guitar for?" I asked, tilting my head slightly.

Heeseung hesitated, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. "Oh, uh…" He looked away for a moment, scratching the back of his neck before meeting my gaze again. "I thought I’d… maybe sing for you later during the picnic."

I blinked, a little taken aback but mostly flustered. "You will sing for me?" I echoed, my heart skipping a beat.

"Yeah," he admitted shyly, his voice softer now. "I asked around. They said you… um…would probably melt if someone serenades you as a way of… courting you."

My cheeks instantly flushed, the memory of my past comments to my friends coming back to haunt me. "You– What?" I asked, my voice almost a whisper.

Heeseung gave a small, sheepish shrug. "I wanted to make the date special for you."

I couldn’t help the shy smile that spread across my face. My gaze shifted to the basket he was holding. "Well, since you’re carrying the guitar, let me help with the basket," I offered, reaching for it.

But Heeseung shook his head, stepping back slightly. "No," he said softly, his gaze shifting to my hands. He reached out, holding them for a moment before his eyes met mine again. "I’ve got this. But… would you mind holding my hand instead?"

I blinked at him, taken aback for a split second. His expression was so sincere, like he truly wanted the simple connection. It was such a small gesture, but in that moment, it felt so personal, so genuine.

I smiled shyly, my heart beating a little faster. "Okay," I said softly, reaching out to take his hand.

His hand was warm and comforting, and as we walked into the park together, the guitar gently bouncing against his back, I couldn’t help but think that this moment, this day, was already perfect.

As we walked together toward our spot, Heeseung looked down at me with a fond smile, and I couldn't help but blush.

"We're almost there," he said, his fingers gently squeezing mine. "I was thinking we could find a nice spot near the lake. It's peaceful there."

I nodded, my heart swelling at how thoughtful he was. "Sounds perfect."

And with that, we strolled side by side, taking our time to get to the lake, letting the day unfold at its own pace, just the two of us, together.

Heeseung had really gone all out with the picnic. As we reached our spot by the lake, he laid out the blanket with care, smoothing out any creases, and then began setting everything down. I was a little surprised by how much he had brought—everything was so thoughtfully chosen.

I couldn’t help but notice Heeseung’s playful smile as he leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Close your eyes for a second,” he said, his voice light, though there was a hint of something more in it.

I raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued but trusting him completely. “What are you up to?” I asked, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“You’ll see,” Heeseung responded, his voice soft, and I heard the faintest sound of something being moved.

Then, before I could even wonder what it was, I felt his fingers gently brush against my hair, and I blinked in surprise as he clipped something in place. I could tell it was delicate by the way he handled it, the motion gentle but deliberate.

“Okay, open,” he said, his tone warm and expectant.

I blinked my eyes open, my fingers instinctively reaching up to touch the clip in my hair. “What did you…?”

“It’s a flower,” Heeseung grinned, his gaze softening as he admired the clip. “Pretty, just like you.”

I couldn’t stop the heat rising to my cheeks, my heart pounding a little faster. I quickly looked away, trying to hide my embarrassment. “Y-You’re so cheesy,” I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.

“And you love it,” Heeseung teased, his laugh so light and full of affection that it made my heart flutter. He handed me a mirror to see the clip for myself, and I shyly adjusted it in my hair, still flushed.

“Thanks, Heeseung,” I mumbled, my voice a little quieter than usual.

Heeseung leaned in just enough for his grin to widen, his eyes sparkling with affection. “You’re welcome,” he replied, his voice soft but teasing enough to make me blush even more.

I couldn’t help but duck my head, my cheeks still burning as I tried to focus on the picnic spread in front of us. “Let’s just eat,” I muttered, though my tone was light, laced with warmth, as I hoped to distract myself from the way my heart was racing.

Heeseung let out a soft laugh, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. “Alright, alright,” he said, opening the basket. “But just so you know, that clip is my new favorite thing on you.”

I shot him a glance, my heart fluttering a little at his words. “You’re just saying that to make me embarrassed,” I said, trying to play it cool even though the heat was still creeping up my neck.

There were sandwiches, each carefully wrapped in paper, looking perfectly made. One of them had chicken, lettuce, and mayo, while the other was a veggie one with avocado and some hummus spread. Heeseung also brought some fresh fruit—juicy slices of watermelon, strawberries, and grapes that sparkled in the sunlight. There was even a small jar of homemade lemonade that he had made himself, the lemony scent making my mouth water immediately.

"Wow, you really went all out," I said, laughing a little, feeling touched by the effort he’d put into this. I had half-expected a simple sandwich, but this was more like a small feast.

Heeseung smiled, clearly pleased with himself. "Well, I wanted it to be special," he said. "I thought you’d like it."

I nodded, my heart warming. He was always so considerate, and it made me appreciate him even more.

As we ate, I couldn’t help but glance up at Heeseung, only to notice a small crumb clinging to the corner of his mouth. My hand moved before I even thought about it, brushing it away gently. “You’ve got crumbs,” I murmured, focused on the task like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t until I dropped my hand and realized how close we were that it hit me—what I had just done. My breath caught for a second, and my eyes widened slightly. My face instantly heated up, and I leaned back quickly, clearing my throat to mask my embarrassment.

Heeseung didn’t seem fazed at all. In fact, he grinned like he’d just won a game, his eyes sparkling with a kind of mischief that made my stomach flip. I barely had a second to recover before he grabbed another snack and dramatically ate it, smearing crumbs on purpose.

Then he leaned in, tilting his head toward me with the most exaggerated pout I’d ever seen. “I think I’ve got more crumbs,” he teased, his voice dripping with playful innocence. “Think you could help me out again?”

I blinked, completely caught off guard. My brain short-circuited for a moment, trying to decide between laughing or rolling my eyes. Instead, I spluttered, “Heeseung!” and instinctively pushed his face away, though I couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped.

He laughed outright, the sound warm and full, like he was having the time of his life seeing me all flustered. “What?” he asked, feigning innocence, though his grin gave him away. “You did such a good job the first time. Why stop now?”

I groaned, trying to sound annoyed, but the corners of my mouth betrayed me as they twitched into a reluctant smile. “You’re impossible,” I muttered, reaching for a napkin instead. If he thought I was using my hand again, he had another thing coming.

When I dabbed at his face with the napkin, he leaned in closer, making no effort to hide how much he was enjoying this. “I think you secretly like taking care of me,” he said, his tone teasing but his gaze soft and sincere. He winked, and I felt my heart do a ridiculous little flip.

I sighed dramatically, shaking my head, trying to keep my cool even as my cheeks warmed, but the fond smile on my face probably gave away how much I didn’t mind at all.

After we ate, we spent some time just chatting about random things—how our days had gone, how the weather was perfect for a picnic, and what we both liked to do on days like this. We didn’t have to try hard to find things to talk about; it just flowed naturally.

Then, after some time, we both leaned back, lying down on the blanket, facing the sky. The clouds drifted lazily by, the world around us quiet except for the occasional rustling of leaves . It was peaceful, just the two of us in our own little bubble.

Heeseung, always the thoughtful one, noticed the bottom of my dress going up a bit with me lying down, so he took off his jacket and gently draped it over my legs. His hands brushed against my skin as he adjusted it, and I felt a small thrill shoot through me. It was such a simple gesture, but it felt so intimate in that moment.

"Is that better?" he asked, his voice soft, and I looked up at him, smiling.

"Yeah, much better. Thank you," I said, my voice quieter than usual, feeling the warmth from his jacket spread over me.

We both laid there in silence for a few moments, felt like time had slowed down, and everything in the world was perfect in this moment.

After a while, Heeseung turned his head toward me, his eyes shining with a quiet curiosity. "What do you think of the clouds? I always like to imagine shapes when I look at them."

I turned my head to meet his gaze, finding myself smiling. "I see a rabbit in that one," I said, pointing to a cloud that was stretched out like a fluffy bunny. "What about you?"

Heeseung squinted at the sky, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I think that one looks like a dragon," he said, laughing a little.

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow, trying to picture it. "I don’t see it."

"It’s there, I swear!" Heeseung chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Maybe you just need to look harder."

I giggled, shaking my head. "Maybe you’re just making it up."

For a while, we kept looking at the clouds, pointing out shapes to each other and laughing at how different our imaginations were. It felt so easy, so comfortable, like we had been doing this forever.

Eventually, the conversation shifted to other things—like dreams, goals, and silly things we'd done in the past—but the way we were laying there, side by side, felt like the kind of connection I hadn’t realized I was longing for. It wasn’t rushed, there were no expectations. It was just us, in this peaceful moment, sharing the quiet joy of being together.

As we were lounging on the blanket, enjoying the serene afternoon, Heeseung suddenly sat up and reached for the guitar he had set beside him. I sat up too, curious, as he started to tune it, the sound of the strings bringing a sense of calm to the already peaceful atmosphere.

Heeseung adjusted the guitar on his lap, his fingers brushing over the strings as he looked up at me with a shy smile. "Ready?" he asked, his voice a little nervous but sweet.

I nodded, clasping my hands together in my lap to keep from fidgeting. "I’ve been ready since I saw the guitar," I teased, trying to calm my own nerves.

He grinned, ducking his head a little, and started strumming the familiar opening chords of Ed Sheeran's Thinking Out Loud. As he sang, his voice soft but steady, I felt my cheeks warm up. His voice was beautiful, effortlessly smooth, and filled with emotion.

When he finished the song, I clapped enthusiastically, cheering, “That was so good!” My heart swelled when I saw the shy smile that tugged at his lips as he glanced down at the guitar, clearly pleased.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, already transitioning into the next song.

The upbeat rhythm of Can’t Take My Eyes Off You filled the air, and Heeseung seemed to grow a little more confident as he played. He swayed slightly to the music, his eyes occasionally flicking up to meet mine as he sang the lyrics. I couldn’t help but laugh and clap along, my excitement growing with each note.

When the second song ended, I cheered again, and this time, he chuckled softly. "You’re making me nervous with all the clapping," he teased, though his smile said otherwise.

“Sorry,” I said, not sorry at all, grinning at him. “You’re just doing so well!”

He nodded, his playful smile softening into something gentler. “Alright. Last one.”

As soon as he began the opening notes of It’s You by Henry Lau, I felt my breath hitch. The melody was soft and intimate, and his voice took on an almost tender quality. But what really got me was the way he held my gaze as he sang.

I felt my face heat up more and more with each lyric, my heartbeat quickening as the song reached its final line. “You...It’s you…,” he sang softly, his eyes never leaving mine. The intensity in his gaze made me feel like I was the only person in the world in that moment.

I forgot to clap.

Heeseung broke the spell with a shy laugh, his voice tentative as he asked, “How did I do?”

I blinked, realizing I had been holding my breath. My voice came out quieter than I intended, but it was filled with sincerity. “I loved every single bit of it. Thanks, Heeseung.”

His ears turned a little pink at my words, and he scratched the back of his neck, clearly pleased but unsure how to respond.

We both sat there, the guitar resting across his lap, the moment stretching between us. I wasn’t sure if my cheeks would ever stop burning, but I also didn’t care. It was perfect—he was perfect. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like this kind of sweetness was exactly where I belonged.

 “Glad you do…” Heeseung said with that boyish grin of his, the kind that made my heart flutter. He puts away his guitar and moved to sit beside me, the soft strum of his guitar still echoing in my mind.

Without thinking, I leaned my head onto his shoulder, the movement instinctual, comfortable. I couldn’t help it; it felt like the most natural thing in the world. My arm instinctively linked with his, and I glanced up at him, a little nervous. "Is this okay?" I asked, my voice soft.

Heeseung turned his head toward me, a small smile forming as he nodded. "Yeah, it’s more than okay." Then, without hesitation, he rested his head on top of mine, the warmth of his touch sending a rush of contentment through me.

We sat there for a moment, simply enjoying the quiet and the closeness, before Heeseung broke the stillness with a playful tone. “So, my guitar skills worked, huh? Seems like I’ve got the magic touch,” he teased, his voice full of mischief.

I lifted my head and narrowed my eyes at him, trying to keep the playful facade, but my smile betrayed me. "You think so, huh?" I asked, trying to sound serious, but failing miserably.

He chuckled softly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I was just joking.” He gently guided my head back onto his shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring. “I’m just happy you liked it,” he added, his voice quieter now, almost like he was savoring the moment.

A comfortable silence enveloped the two of us again, the kind of peaceful stillness where words weren’t needed. The only sound was the soft rustling of leaves and the distant hum of life around us, but in that moment, it felt like everything had slowed down.

Then, Heeseung lifted my hand, the one that had been linked to his arm, and placed a soft, lingering kiss on the back of it. His lips were warm against my skin, and I couldn’t help but feel my heart skip at the tender gesture. He lowered my hand back down, both of his hands gently enclosed around it, as if holding onto something precious.

I turned my head up to him, my heart fluttering from the intimacy of the moment. "What was that for?" I asked, my voice a little breathless, unsure of how to process the sweetness of what had just happened.

Heeseung looked down at me with that soft, almost shy smile, as if the kiss had been a simple, natural thing. "Just because… I wanted to," he said quietly, his voice sincere but laced with a hint of playfulness.

I shook my head slightly, trying to hold back my grin as I playfully rolled my eyes. “You’re weird,” I teased, my voice light and affectionate.

I rested my head back down on his shoulder, this time a little more comfortably than before. Heeseung chuckled softly at my comment, but there was a tenderness in his laughter. 

We spent the rest of the time talking about random things, easy conversation flowing between us again. I could feel the peaceful warmth between us, a sense of belonging and comfort I never wanted to end. Every now and then, Heeseung would squeeze my hand or I’d catch him looking down at me with that soft smile, and it made my heart skip a beat.

I felt my heart beat a little faster as I tightened my hold on his arm, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “You know, you looked really handsome a while ago, playing the guitar and singing,” I said, my voice quiet, trying to sound casual, though I could feel the heat creeping up to my cheeks.

Heeseung didn’t miss a beat. He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on me. "Just handsome?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. "Not handsome, attractive, and charming?"

I rolled my eyes, though I could feel a smile tugging at my lips despite my embarrassment. “Okay, okay,” I mumbled, trying to look away but not being able to hide the way my face was probably flushed. "You’re all of that, too. Happy?"

Heeseung chuckled, clearly enjoying teasing me. “I’ll take it," he said, his voice light but with a warm edge. “But just so you know, you’re not too bad yourself. You’re pretty cute when you’re all flustered like this."

I blinked, caught off guard by his words. I lifted my head to look at him, a little flustered but also amused by the way he could turn the tables so easily. “You’re really something, you know that?,” I muttered, though the smile on my face .

Heeseung grinned, his eyes softening as he leaned a little closer. “But you like it, don’t you?”

I just laughed softly, unable to deny how much I enjoyed moments like this with him. “You’re lucky I do,” I replied, resting my head back against his shoulder, the warmth between us feeling just right.

I felt a small flutter in my chest as his thumb gently rubbed against my hand, his touch so tender, making my heart skip a beat. I blinked at him, momentarily distracted by how close he was, but his question made my thoughts suddenly scatter.

“Y/n?”

I swallowed, feeling a little shy under the intensity of his gaze. “Hm?” I hummed softly, trying to keep my composure, though my heart was racing just a little.

Heeseung’s voice dropped a little softer as he asked again, “Why did you agree to go out with me? And all of this?” His eyes lowered to my hand for a moment, his thumb continuing its slow, steady caress. He met my gaze again, his expression vulnerable yet warm. “I thought you weren’t the type to say yes to dates, or... that’s what I’ve heard.”

I felt my grip on his arm tighten involuntarily, his words making me feel a little exposed, but there was a gentle warmth in his voice that made it impossible for me to be upset. He was just curious, I knew that.

I tilted my head slightly, blinking up at him, trying to process the question. “You’ve heard that, huh?” I asked, my voice quieter than usual, the weight of his gaze making me feel like I had to think carefully about how to answer.

Heeseung nodded, his eyes never leaving mine, that soft, hopeful look still lingering. “Yeah. You just seem... selective. Like you wouldn’t say yes unless it really meant something.”

I hesitated, my heart picking up speed as I tried to find the right words. His thumb was still rubbing gentle circles on the back of my hand, soothing and distracting me at the same time.

I smiled, warmth creeping up my cheeks. “Well, you’re not wrong. I don’t usually go out of my way to... entertain stuff like this.”

Heeseung’s gaze didn’t waver, his lips parting slightly like he was waiting for me to finish.

“Well...” I began slowly, feeling heat creep into my cheeks, “I don’t really know.”  

Heeseung chuckled softly. “You don’t know?”  

I sighed, thinking about my answer carefully. “It’s just that you’re different. You’re kind, thoughtful, and... I don’t know, you make it easy to say yes. It’s like I feel... safe around you.” 

The corner of his mouth lifted into a soft smile, and he let out a breath of relief. 

“And You were just... Heeseung. And I liked that.”  

He raised a brow, the corner of his mouth lifting. “So, you like me.”  

I couldn’t stop myself from smacking his arm lightly, half in play and half in embarrassment. His eyes widened slightly as he let out a light 'ah' in mock surprise. His playful grin only grew, clearly enjoying how flustered I was.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t fight the growing grin. “You’re so annoying.”  

“And you’re not denying it,” Heeseung said, his grin widening as he leaned a little closer, clearly enjoying the rare moment of making me flustered.

I groaned in frustration, burying my face in his shoulder, hoping to hide just how embarrassed I was. “This was a mistake.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm and comforting, and reached over to gently pull my head up to face him. “No take-backs. You already admitted it.”

I pouted, my cheeks burning even hotter now, but I couldn’t help the little smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “Fine. Maybe I do like you a little. Happy now?”

Heeseung’s eyes sparkled as he looked at me, his grin softening into something more genuine. "Yeah," he whispered. "Really happy."

I felt a flutter in my chest at the sincerity in his voice. There was no mistaking it. He really meant it.

“For what it’s worth,” he said quietly, his gaze holding mine, “I’m really glad you gave me a chance.”

His words made my heart beat a little faster. I could feel the warmth in my cheeks again, but this time, it was different—comforting.

I tilted my head, trying to keep the teasing tone light, though I couldn’t entirely suppress the soft smile on my lips. “How about you, Heeseung? Out of all the ‘more gorgeous and more pretty girls', why did you choose me to go out on a date with?”

Heeseung let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. 

"Why you?" Heeseung echoed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Out of all the ‘more gorgeous and more pretty girls,' huh?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, the playful teasing still lingering in my voice. “Yeah. I mean, you have options, Heeseung. Tons of them.”

Heeseung’s smile only grew, but there was a softness in his eyes, and something about the way he looked at me made my heart flutter. “You know what’s funny?” he began, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “I didn’t even think about it like that. It wasn’t about ‘options’ or comparing you to anyone else.”

My laughter quieted as Heeseung moved to fully face me and gently took my hands  again, holding it between both of his, his touch warm and grounding. “You stood out to me in a way no one else has. It wasn’t just about looks, though you’re gorgeous, and don’t even try to deny that.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off, grinning as if he knew exactly what I was about to say. “What drew me to you was how genuine you are. You don’t try to be someone you’re not, and you don’t even realize how refreshing that is. I noticed it the first time we crossed paths. Even when you were just saying hi, you felt... real.”

I blinked, my cheeks warming at his words. I wasn’t sure how to respond—his sincerity had caught me off guard. But I didn’t want to break eye contact. It felt too important, too meaningful.

Heeseung’s gaze lingered on me for a moment, and then his next words came out softer, more vulnerable, as if they were something he needed to say, not just for me, but for him too. “So yeah, out of all the gorgeous girls out there... it was never a question. It’s you, Y/n. Just you.”

The weight of his words settled between us, filling the space with a sweetness I could hardly process. I was at a loss for words, my heart pounding in my chest as I looked up at him. His sincerity, the way he said my name, it felt... real. It felt like everything had fallen into place without any effort. I was the one who had to ask why him, but in that moment, I realized it had never been about anything other than the way he saw me—just me.

I smiled softly, my grip on his hand tightening as I whispered, “Just me, huh?”

Heeseung’s smile widened, his eyes brightening as he leaned in just enough for a brief moment, his presence suddenly filling the space between us. “You have no idea how happy I am that you’re with me.”

The words sent a warmth rushing through me, my heart pounding harder with every beat. Heeseung’s hand instinctively reached for mine, his touch grounding me in a way that felt both familiar and brand new.

"You’re the person I can be myself with, Y/n," he continued, his voice soft, yet full of intention. "And I want to keep doing this—being with you, spending time like this, just...us."

My heart raced as his words sank in, and without even thinking, my fingers curled around his. I couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at my lips, my eyes softening as I looked up at him. “Heeseung...”

Heeseung’s smile softened even more, the nervousness that had been there earlier now replaced with pure sincerity. His voice was gentle but unwavering as he spoke again, almost as if he had rehearsed it, but I could hear the emotion behind it.

"I like you. More than just friends, more than anything casual," he confessed, his gaze unwavering as he looked into my eyes. "I know it’s only been a couple of dates, but... would you say yes... to being my girlfriend?"

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe, my mind going blank at the sincerity in his voice. His eyes were locked on mine, and everything else seemed to fade away. The world outside, the chatter, the noise—none of it mattered in that moment. It was just me and Heeseung, the only two people in that space.

I blinked, trying to process his words. My heart fluttered in my chest, and I could feel my cheeks warming. I never imagined that I’d find myself here, with him, feeling so incredibly special.

I couldn’t help but smile, my voice coming out softly, almost in disbelief at the way my heart was beating. “Yes... I’ll be your girlfriend, Heeseung.”

His smile was so wide it reached his eyes, and I felt an overwhelming rush of happiness fill me at his answer. He let out a small, relieved laugh, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of my hand as he held it tightly. “You’re really saying yes?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief but overflowing with hope.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the words felt like they were stuck in my throat. “I’m starting to like you a lot too, Heeseung,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended. My heart was racing, and I couldn’t help but smile shyly. "Our dates have been fun, our chats have been fun and you..." I trailed off, the words suddenly feeling too heavy to say.

Heeseung watched me with such a gentle, understanding expression, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me, how much I appreciated him, but the words felt like they were locked away, too vulnerable to voice.

He smiled, leaning in slightly, his eyes twinkling. “And me...?” he prompted softly, his voice filled with a teasing warmth that made me feel both embarrassed and adored at the same time.

I turned my gaze away for a moment, trying to hide the growing smile on my face as my cheeks flushed deeper. I swallowed, trying to steady my nerves as I finally answered, my voice softer than usual.

"You..." I paused, gathering my thoughts as I looked back at him, unable to stop the smile that tugged at my lips. "You're... a lot more than just fun, Heeseung."

Heeseung’s grin softened, his eyes warm with affection as he watched me, clearly appreciating the honesty in my words. I could feel my heart race, but in the best way possible, like every word that came out was something I couldn’t hold back.

"Talking to you feels so easy, even if you tease and flirt all the time," I added, letting out a soft laugh.

Heeseung chuckled too, his usual playful smile dancing on his lips, but there was a gentleness in his eyes that made my heart flutter.

"I really like it whenever you're around..." I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper, and for a moment, I turned away again, not sure I could continue without getting completely flustered.

But then I spoke again, a little softer this time, as if my words had a life of their own. "I never regret going on dates with you because... I always feel l appreciated everytime."

I felt my breath hitched in my throat as his hand gently cupped my face, turning me to face him again. His thumb brushed lightly over my cheek, sending a wave of warmth through me. The intensity in his gaze made my heart race, and I could barely look away from him as I tried to gather my thoughts.

Heeseung’s voice was barely a whisper, his words carrying a sweetness that made my chest tighten. “I’m really glad you feel that way, Y/n,” he said softly, his thumb brushing along my cheek again, making me shiver slightly at the warmth of his touch. 

His eyes wandered to my lips for a brief moment before meeting my gaze again, and I could feel the electricity in the air, the unspoken question hanging between us.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice low and gentle, but there was something in his eyes—a silent plea for permission. I gave him a nod

Heeseung’s movements were slow, deliberate, as if he were giving me the chance to change my mind at any moment. His eyes never left mine, the anticipation in his gaze undeniable. I felt my heart hammer in my chest, the world around us fading as the only thing I could focus on was him. The space between us was closing, each inch making my breath catch in my throat.

My eyes kept looking at his eyes then at his lips, back and forth. I could feel the heat of his presence, the warmth radiating off him as his lips brushed against mine, so tender, so soft. It was a slow, gentle kiss—one that felt like it was meant to last forever. 

The touch of his lips sent a rush of warmth through me, a feeling I’d never experienced before, and I melted into it, my hands instinctively moving to rest on his chest. Heeseung, sensing my response, wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer as his other hand gently cupped the back of my neck. His touch was steady and comforting, drawing me even nearer to him, our bodies pressed together as he deepened the kiss just slightly.

I could feel his heart racing too, and it only made mine beat faster. The world seemed to vanish, leaving just the two of us caught in this perfect, tender moment. Every nerve in my body felt alive, and I couldn't help but relax into his embrace, letting him guide me through the warmth of the kiss.

Heeseung pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against mine, breathing a little heavier, his hand still cradling my neck as he kept me close. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

“You’re incredible, Y/n,” he murmured, his thumb gently stroking the skin on my neck.

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face, feeling all kinds of emotions rush through me. My heart was still racing, but this time, it was with happiness.

//i need heeseung to cover "It's you" now > <//

[sleepymothafterhours]

Rough day made rougher

Inspired by @indiewritesxoxo! (hi this is my side blog!) I love her cyberbully!sukuna series so much and i think everyone should go read all her works right now(that is your homework)

Divider Credits: @cafekitsune

Synopsis: After a rough day at work you just wanna wind down by playing your favorite game with your favorite guy, but hwat happens when he gets a little too mean and drives you over the edge :(

Warnings: mean Kuna, Bully!Sukuna, lmk if theres anything else

Word Count: 1080 Full fic under the cut, check sleepy moths after thoughts at the end for more <3

Thirty more minutes. That's what you kept telling yourself at least. Thirty more minutes and you could get in your car and speed home, get in your pajamas(and away from this cold, wet, and stupid drive thru window). you could make hot chocolate and sit at your desk and play your game to get your mind off it.

Though playing alone is never that much fun, you wonder if Sukuna will log on tonight when he always does. After months of him helping you learn the mechanics, you could finally get through a match without him raging(very much) at you.

Your thirty years minutes of torture ended with a screaming customer, you biting back a few tears and your boss telling you could leave. You grabbed your bag leaving with a quick "Bye!" not saying much else as you walked out to your car. On your phone were a few messages, none really that important until you got to a text from Sukuna asking if you were gonna be on tonight.

The drive home was loud, your playlist from work screaming in your ears but it was nice. And as you finally pulled into your driveway you sat for a moment to collect yourself before going inside and getting ready for sleep. Your cat was in your business like she always was whenever you got home from work, but in the end after a few pats and holding her for a few minutes she let you go free. Comfy in your pajamas you could finally sit down to play, in your haze getting home you had neglected to text him back and when you got on found an invite sitting in your games almost immediately. "Eager much?" You teased when you joined, it was just you, you adjusted his volume so that you could hear him just fine when he spoke, but so he wouldn't blow your eardrums out whenever he inevitably raged at the game. You'd come to enjoy the little ritual you had, so it did sting a little whenever Sukuna responded with a sharp, "Please. Figured you'd need my help again. As usual."

You gave him a witty, "What was that about needing your help?" When you got the first few kills in your first match.

"Yeah yeah your okay. You're welcome." He grumbled into his headset. It was almost enough to get your mind off of what a shit day you had at work, at least now you could do something right. Round after round you seemed to just get worse. Just an off day you could've guessed but Sukuna's constant teasing and yelling was starting to get you. "DUDE. Fucking seriously what is this guy doing." His yelling made you flinch and you realized he was talking about you but hadn't realized it was you. "Jesus fuck dude needs to uninstall." He grumbled. "Sukuna." you snipped as your character got hit. "That was me." You said a little hurt edging into your tone. He gave you a shit excuse and moved on. Once the match ended you couldn't help how you were feeling.

"Sorry you're bad tonight." He said before the next match started.

"Jesus asshole. I know I'm the fuckin' worst. " Thoughts of work flooded your mind, and you just wanted to curl up in bed and forget it. Alt-f4. Without thinking you left the game, you'd get penalized for going afk mid round but you just couldn't handle him tonight. your phone buzzed almost immediately, bombarded by texts from him.

Kuna 💖👹: Dude? Where tf r u?

You: WiFi shut out. Prob wont get back on 2nite, its been shit lately.

Kuna💖👹: Great maybe you'll quit fuckin up my rr.

You put your phone on do not disturb right after that, your computer was on, the mouse hovering right over the delete button. You thought it was stupid to delete a game over some guy. You went to sleep shortly after logging off. You ignored Sukuna for days after that, he hardly reached out really unless it was to see if you'd be on tonight, you gave him a shit excuse every time, "working", "busy", "Don't feel good." the last one wasn't necessarily a lie, you had caught the stomach flu in your two months of silence, and you had been working a lot but not enough for this much silence. After awhile he'd started checking up on you a lot more, asking if you felt better before asking if you were down to game. You kept telling him no until he called you on the way home from work one day.

"Why haven't you been playing?" He growled into the phone. "I've been busy. Don't you have someone better to be playing with?" You said, "Dude I'm driving call me back."

"Promise you're getting on tonight." He said

"Unlike you I have a life outside this game which means homework. I can't play."

"Come on! I'm sorry okay! Whatever you're mad about 'm sorry." He said, his tone changing from that harsh one he normally used to something softer, maybe he had missed you.

"You get 30 minutes." You said before hanging up.

You gave him his 30 and he was almost pleasant, he was definitely containing himself but he was pleasant. You stayed in the call when the thirty was up, your body on autopilot after another long day.

"I am sorry ya know." He said, cutting you off after a moment.

"What?" You asked,

"What I said was mean. I might have missed playing with you. You're the only one who actually matches me." You chuckled.

"Well I had a good teacher." You said softly as you adjusted your headphones. "I should go do homework. I'll be on tomorrow 'kay?"

"Does that mean I'm forgiven." He said

You were quiet for moment, so quiet he almost thought you had left already.

"Buy the new skin bundle for me and I'll consider forgiving you." You said, it was a long shot and you fully expected him to say not before the exact amount of credits you needed was being gifted to you by one "Kingofcurses". "Holy shit. Can I have this new vandal skin to-"

"Okay brat don't fucking push it." He said hanging up on you before you could ask for anything else.

Your phone dinged as you started working.

Kuna💖👹: for the record I had that leftover and didn't want the bundle.

You: Yeah yeah love you too Kuna

Sleepy Moths After thoughts: GAWD I LOVE CYBER BULLY SUKUNA ‼️‼️‼️

ALL MY HOMIES LOVE THE CYBER BULLY SUKUNA SERIES

Go give @indiewritesxoxo some love her series is to die for 💋🫶🏻

uhhhhh Idk what else I just had a lot of fun writing this out

also in my head they played Valorant (cus im a loser) together but I tried to keep it obscure enough so you can all imagine what game they're planning yourselves

night!

-Sleepy Moth

Pretty Please don't repost anywhere else <3

[youruinedmylifebynotbeingreal]

Baby, It's Cold Outside

AO3

Summary: Soren is cold because of the dark magic in his body, but he has a very warm boyfriend. Corvus can't help but wonder why his boyfriend is always so cold and has inexplicable scars.

Note: I was listening to my Sorvus playlist as I wrote, and Good Love by Aly & AJ came on and I realized it fit the vibes of this fic perfectly. I then played it on repeat for most of while I was writing. So, listen to that while reading if you want the full experience.

I honestly debated titling the piece after that song, but decided I couldn't pass up a good pun.

Inspired by @multifandom-nerds-blog's headcanons that Soren is cold and has scars because of the dark magic used on him in the past. Mix that with waking up cold every morning in the winter. Thus, a fic is born.

...

Soren couldn’t help it. He was almost always freezing. The dark magic in his veins guaranteed it. 

Except, somehow, right before bed. Even in the middle of winter, he’d have to take most of his layers off before laying down, because otherwise he’d never be able to fall asleep. 

Especially if he wanted to fall asleep cuddled into Corvus; he’d quickly get too warm. Even if they ended up on separate sides of the bed by the morning (because Soren couldn’t stay still in sleep, either), falling asleep in each other's arms helped to ward off the nightmares. Half the time he even woke up with all of his blankets crumpled at the foot of the bed because he’d kicked them off. Corvus was quickly learning to keep a death grip, even in sleep, on any blanket he actually wanted to keep on him.

So, on the night of the first freeze of the winter season in Katolis, Soren went through his usual nighttime routine of lavender scented skin and hair care products. He’d already put on his lightest pair of pajamas, not thinking about the weather; his only concern had been how quickly he could get out of his heavy armor and into Corvus’s waiting arms. It was Soren’s night to be the little spoon, and it had been a long day.

Soren stopped in the doorway to their bedroom and watched Corvus, mesmerized by the way the lamplight reflected on his skin. He was sitting in their bed, under the covers, working on perfecting his next cello piece.

“You look deep in thought,” Soren said, breaking Corvus’s concentration.

Corvus didn’t look up, but he couldn’t help his smile. “I’ve got a great muse.”

Soren’s face turned red.

Corvus let the words hang for a beat before he continued. “Yeah, you know, Pyrrah’s been really inspirational recently.”

Soren had been making his way across the room and stopped. He made the confused, deep-in-thought face that Corvus lovingly referred to as his “wait for it” expression. Then came the “realization” face.

“Was that… a joke?” Soren asked after a moment, Corvus’s dry sense of humor dawning on him.

Corvus put the papers on his bedside table with a wry grin. “It was! What did you think?”

Soren practically pounced on the man waiting for him in bed. Corvus let out an “oof” of air at Soren’s landing - like a big dog, sometimes Soren forgot how large he actually was.

 “It’s not funny when you joke about me,” he pouted into Corvus’s chest dramatically, words muffled by fabric and skin. On instinct, Corvus wrapped his arms around Soren.

“Soren, you know nothing compares to the awe you inspire in me.” Corvus ran his fingers through the silky blond hair tickling his chin. Now he’d also smell like lavender all night.

Soren’s head popped up with a grin. “That’s what I like to hear!”

Corvus rolled his eyes and tried not to smile, but the corners of his mouth twitched, unable to hide his amusement. Soren let Corvus’s hand on the back of his head guide him into a gentle kiss.

“Hi,” Soren breathed when they broke apart, forehead to forehead.

“Hi.”

Soren, abruptly breaking the quiet moment, rolled off of him and scrambled under the covers. “Okay, time for bed. Hold me!”

Corvus barked out a laugh. “Geez, aren’t you demanding this evening.”

Still, Corvus did just as Soren specifically requested, quickly snuffing out his lamp, laying down, and wrapping his arms around Soren from behind.

“Well, as Head Crownguard -”

“Don’t.”

“You know you love me,” Soren said, snuggling back into Corvus’s warmth. Soren tangled their hands together and brought Corvus’s free hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on whatever skin was nearest as he closed his eyes.

“I really do.”

…

Corvus was used to sleeping in the roughest of terrain. On the forest floor, in the mountains, in a tree - really, just about anywhere. He didn’t even need a tent or a sleeping mat because being a tracker meant being discreet and able to pack up quickly.

What was he not used to?

Waking up with his freezing boyfriend clinging to him for dear life on a cold winter morning.

“Soren…?” he asked groggily, eyes adjusting to the early rays of sunlight shining through their window. He turned his head and met icy blue eyes. “Are you okay? Did you just sneeze?”

Soren nodded minutely, digging his fingers deeper into Corvus’s side. “Yup. Because of the light. But I’m okay, just currently feeling a bit like an icicle.”

“Then why don’t you have a blanket on?”

“Too cold to move.”

Corvus rolled his eyes and sat up. Soren whined, but due to his grip on Corvus, sat up too. Corvus reached over to dislodge Soren’s hands from his side so he could stand up to get Soren another shirt and fix the blankets, but a small “Don’t go…” stopped him.

Corvus’s annoyance melted away as he felt his heart clench.

“Darling, I’m not going anywhere, I just want to help,” Corvus said, dropping a kiss on Soren’s forehead.

Soren vehemently shook his head, burying his head in the crook of Corvus’s neck and wrapping his legs around Corvus’s, forcing him to stay down. Corvus gasped at the shock of Soren’s freezing nose and cold toes against sensitive skin. He relented with a sigh, reaching towards the bottom of the bed for the mixture of sheets and blankets that Soren had crumpled there.

Corvus brought the blankets up, tucking them around Soren as best he could, and stretched towards his folded scarf on his bedside table, sending his papers scattering to the floor. He sighed. He’d have to pick all of those up later and put them back in order.

The things he did for this man.

“Soren, I will need you to extricate yourself from my body for a moment if you want to wear my scarf.”

Soren relented, loosening his grasp by a fraction. His eyes were bright. “It’s too early to figure out what ‘extra-kate’ means, but I heard the word scarf. I get to wear it?!”

Corvus nodded. Judging by Soren’s reaction, you’d think Corvus never let his partner borrow it, which couldn’t be farther from the truth. Corvus loved seeing Soren in his scarf. It brought out his eyes and, honestly, a part of him loved knowing that people would see Soren in it and know they were together. That this goofy, fascinating man was his goofy, fascinating man. The man who balanced him out and inexplicably complemented his personality almost perfectly.

Corvus had also taken to leaving his scarf with Soren when either of them had a mission away. Soren, on the other hand, always sent Corvus with his favorite dragon plushie. Sometimes Soren would wear the scarf the whole trip. Or sometimes only at night, like how Corvus would sleep with Soren’s stuffed dragon beside him. It helped ease the ache of being apart.

Soren acted like this every time because he knew how important the scarf was to Corvus and treated each time he got to use it with reverence.

Soren finally released Corvus from his grasp, sitting up next to him, but kept their legs tangled together. Soren tried to keep his face serious, but Corvus still thought he looked like a kid about to get their birthday presents (to be fair, Soren also looked like that when he was about to get his birthday presents).

Corvus carefully looped the scarf around Soren’s neck, using adjusting it as an excuse to touch him. He couldn’t help but notice that the lightning-like scarring across Soren’s torso seemed to be more prominent than usual in the cold. He held his tongue, not wanting to ruin this moment that almost felt sacred.

But of course, Soren tracked Corvus’s eyes to his scars.

…

Most everybody knew Soren ran cold, but most did not know the reasoning. Not Corvus. Not even Ezran and Callum, who actually knew bits and pieces of the “why,” since they grew up together.

Not that he didn’t want to share it with Corvus. But his past and his family were so - ironically - cold and dark. Whereas what he had with Corvus was so good and bright and warm. He didn’t want to taint it by bringing up the past. Every other time Corvus had inquired about his scarring, he’d found a way to change the subject. Or distract Corvus with a kiss.

Of course, Corvus noticed him dodging the question, but he respected Soren’s need to reveal things in his own time. And he’d gladly be distracted by Soren’s mouth anytime.

The light filtering through the window made Soren feel… safe. Time felt like it was suspended, as if what happened now wouldn’t really count in the glaringly bright light of a winter’s day.

Which he knew was ridiculous. If this conversation was about to happen, it’s not like Corvus would somehow forget as soon as they officially woke up for the day.

But wrapped up in blankets, his boyfriend’s scarf, and with Corvus’s grounding presence next to him, Soren felt like maybe it was time.

Plus, Corvus was staring at his scars with that face he got when he was really committing things to memory. Usually he loved when Corvus looked at him with that face - it made him feel… wanted. Handsome. Precious. A thousand other feelings he didn’t have words for.

But this time, it just made him want to tell Corvus everything.

“Hey, I see you ogling my muscles,” Soren grinned, joking to try and psych himself up for what he wanted to talk about. “I’m just kidding. You can stare at them as much as you want.”

Soren followed up his statement with a dramatic flex of an arm and a wink, then a kiss to Corvus’s cheek. He could feel the heat from Corvus’s flushed face against his cool lips. 

“You know what ‘ogling’ means?” Corvus asked, raising an eyebrow once he’d managed to compose himself a bit.

“Of course I do,” he responded haughtily. “I read romance books.”

Corvus smiled softly, endlessly amused by his partner, which led Soren’s boisterous grin to turn into a genuine smile. Soren put a hand to Corvus’s right cheek and ran his thumb gently along his eyebrow scar. Corvus closed his eyes and nuzzled into the touch.

“Okay, but in all seriousness,” Soren started quietly. If he didn’t do this now, he feared he never would. “I can see the question in your eyes and I… I think I’m ready.”

Corvus nodded. He didn’t want to say anything and disturb the moment. They broke apart, and Corvus leaned back against the headboard, ready for Soren to continue when he was ready.

“So, you may or may not know that I was a pretty sickly child.”

Another nod in response. Soren and others around the castle had alluded to it previously, but he didn’t know much else.

“But what you don’t know is that… I wasn’t getting better. As a child, I couldn’t… I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t play with Claudia without having a coughing fit or walk to the kitchen without wheezing. I was dying, Corvus.”

Soren heard his childhood mantra in his head. In through your nose, out through your mouth. He felt Corvus slip an arm around his shoulders and Soren leaned into the touch.

“But then, one day when I hadn’t been able to get out of bed for weeks… Poof. It was gone. I could breathe. I could run. I was like a new man - er, well, boy. I wasn’t sure what had happened, but that was the day these showed up,” he said, gesturing to his chest. “My being cold wasn’t as bad back then, when dark magic had only been used on me once.”

Soren heard Corvus’s intake of breath, fingers squeezing into Soren’s shoulder.

“Once?” Corvus asked, tentatively.

Soren nodded. “Yup. That was… that was the first time. But I didn’t realize what had saved me from my breathing sickness until the second time. Viren never told me how I got better, and I never thought to question it until I was grown and... and truly saw what he'd turned into.

“So, this next part you’ve definitely heard about. It was when I taunted Pyrrah in that town. When me and Clauds had you captured. While you were off being your gentlemanly self, saving the day and tracking the princes - or, well, king and prince, I guess - I was… taunting Pyrrah, yet again. We got into a bit of a fight and… well, let’s just say my armor couldn’t protect me from being thrown across a field and hitting my spine against a sharp rock.”

Corvus had indeed heard about it, but assumed the stories he’d heard about Soren’s injuries must have just been overly exaggerated. He was quickly learning that they were, in fact, not.

“I was paralyzed. Clauds tried everything she could, but nothing changed. I’d accepted it. That’s when I got the idea to reinvent myself as a poet, actually. But Claudia… she wouldn’t, couldn’t accept it. They kicked her out of the doctor’s office. I don’t know what she did while she was gone, but when she came back, she had this spell that made me start moving again.”

Soren unconsciously wiggled his fingers. Corvus took that as an invitation to grab his hand. When he felt how cold Soren’s hand was, he gave it a squeeze of encouragement and started rubbing the hand between his to help Soren warm up.

“That’s when her hair started going white,” Soren continued softly. “And that’s when the scars on my back showed up. I was cold to the touch from that day on. It took a little bit for me to put all the pieces together, but I eventually realized dark magic was inside me, and it had been that way for a while. I asked Viren as much when I was still on his side, and he confirmed it.”

Soren took a deep breath. He no longer felt like an icicle, and a weight was lifted from his shoulders. “So, yeah.” He met Corvus’s eyes. “Dark magic is the reason I’m alive today.”

…

Soren had ended up in Corvus’s arms as the story went on, and Corvus looked down at him, buried under blankets, in wonder. He’d joked the night before that Soren left him awestruck, but it was truer every day. The more Corvus learned about his partner and his past, the more he admired how strong he was to get up and start every day with a smile on his face.

No wonder Soren had such complex feelings surrounding magic as a whole. Dark magic had saved him and let him stay a member of the Crownguard, but it had also taken away his family and harmed so many.

Corvus couldn’t help but be selfishly grateful for it, since it meant Soren was around to lounge in bed with him like this. He couldn’t fathom a world without Soren’s vibrance in it.

“Soren, you never fail to astound me,” Corvus said, leaning in to kiss Soren’s no-longer-ice-cold nose.

“Aw, thanks babe. Back at you.” A moment of silence. “I think. What exactly does astound mean?”

“Amazing. Wondrous. Incredible.”

Soren’s cheeks turned the prettiest shade of pink, and Corvus couldn’t help but give him a kiss. Soren shivered, and not because of the cold.

One kiss turned into multiple when Soren wrapped his arms around Corvus’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair, grasping at his back. Corvus tried to convey all of the love he felt for Soren, how glad he was that Soren was alive, into every touch of his hands, every brush of their lips.

“You know, I could think of some other ways you could help me stay warm…” Soren said once they broke apart, Corvus hovering over him. Soren followed up his statement with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

“Soren!” Corvus chided, shoving lightly at his shoulder. “We have work soon.”

 Soren shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

Corvus pressed a kiss to that same shoulder, snuggling into Soren as they laid back down to rest for a little while longer. “I didn’t say never. We have plenty more cold mornings in our future.”

“Yay!”

After that, they went quiet, enjoying each other's company. Corvus lay on top of Soren, head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. That big, beautiful heart of his. It was strong and sure, even through the fabric of Soren’s pajamas. It was the most beautiful sound Corvus had ever heard.

Corvus waited so long to say anything, he thought Soren might have fallen back to sleep. 

“Darling?” he asked quietly, looking up at Soren’s face.

“Hmm?” came the groggy reply, eyes blearily blinking open.

“Thank you. For telling me. I know how difficult that was for you.”

“You make everything easier…” Soren said with a tender smile, sentence trailing off as his eyes closed once again. In moments, his breathing evened out.

Corvus brought the blankets up a little higher around them and closed his eyes.

...

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading!!

I tried to handle the topic of Soren being paralyzed as delicately as I could. I don't think he views it as a bad thing or that he was "saved" from it in the same way as his breathing sickness and I hope I portrayed that well.

Also, I personally imagine Soren's scarring to be kind of like Nora Valkyrie from RWBY after Volume 8!

My personal headcanon is that Corvus actually loves Soren’s little nicknames after they get together, but he just likes to keep them between them <3 and when Corvus is feeling especially affectionate he will also drop a pet name, which leaves Soren glowing for the rest of the day. And Corvus is almost always feeling especially affectionate when alone with Soren. Hence, multiple pet name drops this fic.

Also, Soren being a romance book reader is a headcanon originally thought up by the incredible jomipay on AO3/@halfofmysoulistrees on Tumblr. It's canon in my heart.

[eybefioro]

HAPPY HOLIDAYS @ghostsparrow 💛💛💛

The TNAN server hosted a secret santa, and Sparrow said he love pirates AUs and space AUs. I immediately thought about treasure planet, so here it is <3 thank you @captainblou for organising it!!!

Wacky races - fairly odd parents - powerpuff girls - scooby doo - adventure time - Cowardly dog - JJBA

(Time-lapse and ramblings under the cut)

Extra long Time-lapse this time as a THREAT.

I remember NOTHING about Treasure Planet's plot, but the ✨️Aesthetics✨️ are seared in my brain forever. I mean-

HOW COOL IS THAT. I love this retrofuturistic(?) Style, the mix between robots and cyborgs and SPACE with uniforms and SHIPS. It's just soooooo good.

I didn't really followed 100% this Disney style, more the idea of it. I've been trying to find my footing and draw stuff without replicating each stylistic choice. Idk if I succeed or not but it was fun!

One thing about this is that even if it's not perceptible here, the perspective is a bit huh... different. I had to figure it out by trial and error, and this end up having 4 focal points.

(Sorry this prob doesn't make that much sense but it was the only way for me to show it lol)

DO YOU SEE THOSE NICE RED AND GREY LINES?? I learned how to use rulers on ibispaint and NOW I AM UNSTOPPABLE. I know how to draw perspective by hand, on paper, but on my phone it was impossible. The screen is too small, and the precision too crappy since I don't have a proper pen. But now with this thing I can assure the line is straight and that direction is right, and now I can do nice perspectives hell yes!

This drawing I did of muriel and Eric is were I was testing stuff out. The rulers, the perspective, the not copying any style thing.

I'm not super satisfied with the end result of this perspective here, bc I wanted to make something more warped, more dynamic/stretched but I really don't know how to do that yet so simple perspective it is lol

This drawing was also supposed to accompany a fic, but it took me too long to do this, so I didn't had the time to write it. Maybe one day...

Now with details that I liked:

STAR FRECKLES THAT FLOAT OVER CROWLEY'S FACE! Also he needs sunscreen. Have tou seen his thighs? LMAO

The rendering g on Aziraphale’s clothes! Especially the trousers. I think this might be my best clothes that I painted so far. I'm getting better at this :D I was inspired by Aziraphale’s bastille and Edinburgh looks, + Mr Fell magician cape (and also the uniforms from treasure planet). I hope it looks OK in the end, I had too much fun mixing all this together lol

Earth colonised by two opposing forces. I spent too long playing with this concept and how to draw it lol I hope it looks nice!

[tkwrites]

Welcome Home - Nico Hischier x ofc

gif from turbolainen

Title: Welcome Home

Part VI in the It Doesn’t Matter AU

It Doesn't Matter Masterlist

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Nico Hischier x Lena (ofc)

Summary: Lena welcomes Nico home from a road trip in a way he's only dreamed of.

Warnings: Smut (18+ Only!), heavy nipple play, unprotected p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!)

Word count: 1,800

Comments: I had no intention of posting another Nico and Lena piece so soon, but this came to me last night and practically wrote itself. I was half asleep through part of it, so please forgive any mistakes. In many ways, it's extremely self indulgent, but I think you'll enjoy it, too.

Nico and Lena continue to be my spiciest AU. They just can't keep their hands off each other.

If you did enjoy this fic, please consider letting me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Welcome Home

Hey, I’m sorry but I’m in the middle of something. Can you catch a ride home with Jack and Luke? 

This message should have been his first clue Lena was up to something. She never bailed on plans like this. He’d been looking forward to her picking him up after the road trip. Not just because it meant he got to see her sooner, but because part of him really liked being seen with her, now that the guys knew they were together. 

She wouldn’t bail without reason, though. So, he swallowed his disappointment down and responded, Sure. See you soon. 

When Nico opened the apartment door, he’d expected to find Lena at her easel, working on a painting, having asked him to ride with Jack because she wasn’t in a good stopping place. She did that occasionally before bed, staying up to get it just right. 

Instead, she was casually leaning her butt against the back of the couch, wearing nothing but a red silk slip with delicate black lace at the neck and hem.

“I wanted to welcome you home,” she said with a sultry smile. 

Speech was something for greater men than him. He could barely even think. 

“Didn’t want to ruin the surprise by picking you up in this,” she teased, pulling at the hem. 

He nodded, dumbly, reveling in the knowledge that she did this just for him. “I…” he couldn’t even form words. 

Talking on the phone on one of the seven nights he was gone, she’d asked him what kind of lingerie he liked. He’d told her it didn’t really matter, but he’d always wanted to come home from a roadie to his girlfriend waiting for him in lingerie. He hadn’t even guessed she would make it a reality so soon. 

Relishing the way his eyes raked over her again, Lena smiled. It was so easy to fulfill this fantasy, especially when she already had this nightie in Devils colors. She’d only worn it for someone once before but wore it on her own plenty. She loved the way the brush of the silk against her nipples nearly turned her knees to jello every time.  

“I missed you,” she said, taking slow steps toward him. 

The way the fabric lifted slightly with each sway of her hips made his mouth water. God, she was so beautiful. 

“I missed you, too,” he managed to say. 

This fantasy she was bringing to life had his heart banging in his chest. 

“Yeah?” she asked. “How much?” 

“So much,” he moaned, finally reaching out to touch her. The silk was just as soft as it looked. 

“You wanna show me how much?” she asked, a teasing glint in her eyes. 

Licking his lips, he nodded. 

She leaned up to brush her lips over his - barely even touching. His mouth buzzed in anticipation. “Come show me then,” she said before turning around and sauntering down the hall.

He swore in German and then in French before finally saying, “you’re fucking incredible.” 

She glanced over her shoulder and met his eyes, “coming?” 

It was all the prompting he needed. He ran to follow her. By the time he got into the room, she was climbing up on the bed, giving him a perfect view of her ass. A desperate noise crawled up his throat. 

He waited for her to get comfortable, sitting up on the bed before he asked, “so, what did you have in mind?”

“You’re showing me how much you missed me, remember?” 

Nodding, he tore at his clothes, stripping off the hoodie and shorts until he stood before her in nothing but boxer briefs. 

“Off or on?” she asked, pulling the lace hem of her nighty up her thigh. 

“On,” he panted, eyes dragging over her again. He wanted to be the one to take it off.

Her smile let him know he'd made the right choice. 

“This is incredible,” he said, running a finger under one of the straps as he brought his body closer to hers. 

“I like how soft it is,” she admitted. And before she could stop herself, she continued, “I’m about 96 percent sure you could get me off just by playing with my nipples through it.” 

His eyes were drawn down to them automatically. They seemed to pebble under his gaze, poking against the fabric. “Yeah?” he asked, voice gone husky. 

“I had an ex who almost got me there but moved on right before I was about to come,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Nico wrinkled his nose. “Was he blind?” She wasn’t difficult to read. She always moaned and rocked her hips up three or four times when she was about to crest. 

“Something like that,” she giggled. In reality, he’d mistaken her groan of frustration as one of desire and slid into her, shooting off before she  even had the chance to come. 

“Do you want me to try?”

She bit her lip and nodded, looking up at him through her lashes. 

“Where?” he asked.

“Where?” she repeated, confused. Hadn't they just talked about where she wanted to he touched? 

“Where do you want to be?” he clarified, gesturing to his lap as an example. “What position?” He could not be relied upon to communicate well when she was wearing this for him. 

“Oh,” she blushed. As she closed her eyes, trying to envision what would feel best, one of her hands drifted up, fondling herself through the silk. Her core throbbed to life between her legs. The fact that Nico was willing to do this for her turned her on nearly as much as the caress of her own fingers. 

Her face softened, and Nico groaned. He toyed with the idea of letting her continue, wanting to see her get herself off like this. But then again, he was supposed to be showing her. And he wanted to touch her. He always wanted to touch her. Reaching forward, he knocked her hand out of the way so he could tweak her nipple instead. 

Her head fell back, and she moaned, “lighter.”

“Hu?”

“I want you to touch lighter,” she said, “like this.” She reached up, gently pinching one of the sensitive nubs before teasing, dragging the silk over the tip. It felt so good — slippery and cool. A whisper on her sensitive skin.

Her back arched, pressing closer as his thumb lightly circled the peak. “Oh my god,” she breathed. “Don't stop. That feels so good.”

His left hand came up to join the right, repeating the treatment on her other breast. 

“Fuck, Nico. Oh, yes.”

Her chest heaved a deep breath, and despite being seated on her behind, her hips tried to roll. 

“Here,” Nico said, momentarily abandoning his mission so he could sit against the headboard.

She whined at the loss but cut herself off when he pulled her into his lap.

Quick as a flash, she was all over him, kissing him deeply as she brought her hips closer to his.

She was already soaked, leaving a trail of arousal on his skin. 

Groaning, his hands slipped back up to her breasts, gently pinching and rotating his fingers.

“Oh,” she keened. It felt incredible. Each tweak and twirl of her nipples shot a rocket of pleasure straight to her clit. She was sure if he so much as brushed the sensitive pearl, she would fall apart, receptive to even the slightest touch. 

“Come on,” he urged, touching the pad of his thumbs to the peaks and rubbing them in small circles.

“Oh,” she groaned, hips rocking as her back arched, “oh fuck Nico.”

His left hand went back to pinching and rolling the pebble between his thumb and forefinger as the right continued the gentle circles. 

The sudden force of his dual stimulation exploded in her veins. 

Hips pressed tightly to his, she only had to roll once before her clit brushed his stomach, catching his happy trail and pleasure exploded into her body. 

Nico kept going, tender and steady while she chanted his name. He was mesmerized that this simple touch could bring so much out of her. 

Gently, he pulled on one of the tender peaks, and, head thrown back, she cried out as heat blazed anew inside her. 

“Lena,” he groaned as he leaned down to suck one nipple into his mouth, straight through the fabric. 

She writhed atop him. 

With his hand free, he pushed his boxers out of the way and urged her to sink onto his hard cock.  

Feeling him slip inside her as her orgasm raged was an incredible new sensation she would never forget. 

God, she felt incredible around him, urging him deeper. 

When the haze of pleasure trailed from Lena’s mind, an overwhelming urge to blow his mind took its place. He'd just given her two (three?) earth shattering orgasms in a row. Before the first one stopped, he did something new to begin again. She wanted to give him the same experience.

Pushing him back gently, his mouth reluctantly popped off her breast as he was forced to lean back against the headboard. 

“Let me,” she said, rocking her hips with a little more insistence. 

Nico gulped and nodded, looking up at her with those big, brown eyes. In all the times he'd imagined being with her, his mind had never come up with a scenario like this. Reality really was better than any kind of dream. 

In his partially reclined position, it was easier for her to touch him. Her hands slipped up his stomach, and as they found a new home on his chest, she began softly circling his nipples with her thumbs, grazing over top every few passes. 

He moaned. He'd known nipple play was a thing. Lena liked her nipples played with nearly as much as her clit, and, even though she'd touched him there before, he'd never felt anything like this. It was like she built some kind of pleasure highway from his chest to his dick and each time she touched him, sensation rushed between the two.

He groaned her name, back arching and hips thrusting to meet each of her movements. 

Lena relished making him feel this way, eating up the shaky way he drew breath and the flutter of his lashes as his eyes rolled back. 

Feeling him spill into her as he shouted his pleasure sparked a sense of intense satisfaction inside Lena until it was glowing bright within her. 

“Fuck,” he swore when he came down. 

Keeping him seated inside her, she lay over him. “Thank you,” she said, propping herself on one elbow so she could look into his face. “That was even better than I dreamed.”

A cocky smile ticked his lips up. “I'm glad,” he mumbled, pulling her in for a kiss. “I'll do that anytime you want.” 

It Doesn't Matter Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[prodbyton]

the pics are so blurry but are you guys picking up what im throwing down….

[stellewriites]

thanks for the tags @dwarvenagenda & @pricegouge !! 💓

it was fun to check my stats for this year :3

funny to compare how i started my year vs how its ending (fandoms im writing for, fic length range, themes and tropes i’m preferring, etc).

i’ve found that although ive maybe written less and had less interaction in general from readers this year i’ve truly found some amazing people that i consider good friends on here now :’) and i wouldn’t swap that for anything!!

blank copy below and npt: @pricetagged @ohlawdthebirds @sentientcave @syoddeye @gloard @wraithdance @buttdumplin @luvrodite @mikichko @lewistoferrari @disgustingtwitches

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

the heist!mark brainrot is consuming me…, just imagine mark n the viewer meeting for the first time as little kids to shoplift candy or smth together ╥﹏╥

the (brain)rot consumes!! I can relate

my dear anon... LISTEN. I am a big advocate for childhood friends captaineer, it's one of my favourite headcanons, but a childhood friends AU for the heist partners? that's something I hadn't considered until now. and it's adorable. I had to write something for it asap because I was INSPIRED. I hope you enjoy💖 thanks for sparking the idea!

Heist!Mark x reader (not explicitly romantic at all it's more about the friendship in this one) | Words: 1,317

You are in the kitchen of your shared home base, unloading the groceries your heist partner has just bought, when you pick up a bag of sour candies, smiling quietly to yourself. He's always been a fan of them.

Turning the packet in your hands, an old memory drifts to the surface of your mind:

You don't remember exactly how long ago it was, but you couldn't have been much older than maybe ten.

Your father was busy working, and had reluctantly sent you to the store with a small list after you insisted you could handle it on your own.

You slipped the folded piece of paper out of your school bag and scanned the list of items. At the bottom was a note that read, ‘Remember to stay hydrated, kiddo! :)’

You walked around the supermarket collecting the few things on your list and placed them in your trolley. On your way to the checkout, you passed through the candy aisle and slowed to eye the products on display.

‘Aren't you going to get anything?’

Your head perked up, shocked at the sudden voice addressing you.

There was a boy next to you with dark hair, looking at you inquisitively. He seemed to be about your age. He might have even been slightly shorter than you.

You must have been standing here for longer than you realised if it had prompted him to ask you about it.

You shook your head.

‘Why not?’

‘Oh, um. My dad only gave me enough money for what we need,’ you said timidly, showing him the list.

‘Ohh, that's too bad.’ Then, a small yet undeniably mischievous smile appeared on his face. He glanced discreetly up and down the aisle. ‘You know you can just — ’ and he took one of the small packets of candy off the shelf and slipped it swiftly into his pocket.

Your eyes went wide, stunned. Both from the fact that he was suggesting you steal, and at the speed and subtly with which he'd enacted the crime, as if he'd done it dozens of times before, if not more.

‘What are you doing?’ you spoke in a harsh whisper.

‘It's no big deal,’ he said in a lower voice than before, but one that still felt entirely too loud. He slipped another bag into his pocket.

You did not want to associate with this boy any longer.

You pushed your trolley away and towards the checkout, handing your items to the cashier.

You were unhappy to find the boy waiting for you when you exited the store, shopping bag in your hand.

‘What do you want?’ you asked, a little standoffishly, frowning at him.

‘There's no need to be rude,’ he said with a small pout. ‘Y'know, I think I might have seen you at school a few times.’

To your dismay, he followed along as you started walking home. When you pressed him, he simply said, ‘Hey, I'm not following you! I live down this way too, I promise!’

As the two of you walked, he chatted annoyingly by your side. What was more annoying was that you found you didn't mind his presence. You were a quiet kid and you didn't have many friends. Having someone to walk home with you was kind of a nice change of pace.

Just as you thought this, though, you immediately chided yourself mentally. You and him were not friends. You weren't going to be friends. This boy was a criminal and he wasn't even sorry about it.

You frowned in thought.

Oh no, what if he got caught? What if you went to juvenile jail for being an accomplice to theft? What would Dad say? What would Mom say? What if—’

‘Hey, are you listening to me? You haven't responded to anything I'm saying.’

You simply sighed as he pulled you out of your thoughts.

‘Are you still mad about the candy? I told you it's not a big deal.’

You stopped as you realised you were approaching your front door. The journey seemed to have gone a little faster than usual.

‘Really?’ you finally replied in an exasperated tone. ‘That was no big deal for you? That was stealing. Stealing is wrong.’ You couldn't believe you had to spell it out to him.

‘They won't notice a couple tiny bags of candy are gone. My mom says big companies that own supermarkets are greedy. They make loads of money anyway and don't pay enough taxes.’

‘Does your mom know you're a thief?’

‘W- well, no, but-’

‘That’s what I thought.’

He looked a little disheartened.

‘Please don't tell anyone. I'm sorry if I upset you,’ he said quietly, looking down.

You hadn't really expected an apology from someone like him. You sighed again.

‘I won't tell, but don't expect me to just go along with it. And don't act like we're best buds all of a sudden. We don't know each other. You don't even know my name!’

‘Well, what's your name?’

You gave him a slightly surprised look before telling him your name, albeit hesitantly.

‘Look, I have to get going now…’

You fumbled with the shopping bag as you reached into your coat pocket, feeling for the house key, when you suddenly felt something that wasn't there before. It made a crinkling sound beneath your touch.

‘You didn't.’ You pulled the candy out of your pocket. ‘When did you—?’

The boy grinned at you.

‘I thought you could have one of mine.’

‘I don't want your stolen candy!’

‘Judging by how you looked at it earlier, I think you do. And besides, stolen treats taste better!’ he called out, already walking away.

‘Wh- SHH!’ You hoped none of your neighbours had heard.

‘I'm Mark by the way! See ya, buddy!’

You stood outside the front door, dumbfounded.

Finally you let yourself in. Your dad wouldn't be home yet for a while.

You put the shopping away and sat down at your kitchen table, staring at the stolen goods in front of you.

You could try to put it back but… that would be more suspicious.

You figured, the deed had been done. There was nothing you could do now, so you may as well make the most of it.

You tore the edge of the packet and popped one of the candies in your mouth, savouring the sweet and sour combination on your tongue.

Maybe Mark was right. It did taste extra good. But maybe it was just because you'd been craving it.

What a weird kid.

‘Stealing is wrong, huh…?’ you mumble under your breath. You look down at the candy in your hands. It's not the same brand as the one from back then, but you imagine it tastes more or less the same, from what you remember.

Present day Mark is the one to pull you out of your musings.

‘Hey, what's with that face you're making? I know that look, buddy. Are you contemplating your life choices??’

You chuckle softly.

‘Just… got reminded of something. I suppose I got lost in nostalgia for a moment.’

‘Oh yeah? Penny for your thoughts?’

You turn and smile at him.

‘This just made me think of an annoying little boy stealing candy from a supermarket. And his reluctant acquaintance who ended up getting dragged into his antics for the foreseeable future.’

It takes a second for it to click.

‘Ohhhhh.’ You watch as realisation turns to him smiling fondly at the memories, which turns to him snapping his attention to you with a fake-offended look.

You laugh at his expression.

‘Wait, hey! Annoying?!’

‘Mhm.’

‘Excuse you, I was a wonderful, sweet and positively charming child.’

Your laughter rings out in the kitchen, full of mirth, and he shakes his head at you with a familiar lopsided grin, and you are so grateful for the cheeky little boy who approached you that day.

[sysig]

It always seems like such a good idea in the moment (Patreon)

The first four are in reference to a great idea I had of - since I’ve finished my lower-limit page number testing for making books; shorter fics take up less page space, and just increasing the font size isn’t as handsome! - simply making a mini book! All it would take would be to halve the pages again, right? Just cut them right down the middle! Easy peasy!

As I’m sure you can tell by the second, no. Not easy peasy. Difficult painful un-fun >:(

Obviously I still did it tho! What do you take me for, someone who could have the idea of an even tinier book and then not do something about it?? No It’s also the only one so far to have a paper bookmark rather than a ribbon!

All told it’s a bit smaller than your average manga (I love the monochrome covers on these under their dust jackets haha <3) - you can see even with effectively doubling up the pages by halving their size, it was still very small-spined!

A quick shot while it was still being made hehe ♪ It’s Out! Paired here - and the earlier one, just without its dust jacket haha - with my Zarla SC2 collection (ft. Family, Negotiations are Going...Well, and With No Obligation) - I absolutely kicked myself after the fact for not including Out as the run-up to everything, I was really trying to make a full collection in probably-chronological order! Out would’ve been a perfect start! And it only would’ve taken like four pages!!

Ah well, it was still quite a learning experience - I probably wouldn’t make another standalone of under 4k-ish just for formatting reasons but I did get some good ideas of how to do so if I wanted to! Although, my next project is going to be even more of a formatting nightmare........I’ll get there when I get there! Lol

[merlin-wolfgang-trades-hale]

One of my on-going project snippets. Avatar!Steve

“Why is Danny’s place still frozen?” Steve demanded as soon as he saw Duke. 

“Our water-benders are trying, but there is a limit to their ability,” Duke replied. 

Steve’s clarity was being disrupted by his worry over Danny, so he snapped, “Limit? It’s ice! They’re water-benders!” 

Duke often revered to Steve with the respect gained by his rank, in both military and as Avatar, as well as the respect he was born with as a McGarrett. But in that moment, he was an older Hawaiian native who gave a strict gaze as he reminded Steve of where they lived. “You have traveled far and seen many other places. Maybe it has escaped your memory that out of all the benders that live or visit our small islands, water is arguably the one with most restrictions and rules. Only a limited few water-bending masters exist here who are experienced with colder temperatures and ice or snow manipulation.”

Steve closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself before he opened them again and apologized. “Sorry, Duke. It’s...it’s Danny, y’know?” 

“I do. And I know that there’s no one else on this island who knows those ice bending restrictions better than him. Given how much flack he got in the early months of him being here. So I understand your concern...but these ice structures were created by Danny himself. They’re fortified with the strength that will take the Hawaiian August sun hours to melt. We can’t get inside yet.”

“Yeah, well...I’m here now. Let me work.” It was nearly a threat but it most certainly was a warning. Duke called off the benders and let Steve try. 

Steve has begun his water bending training but it was with the basics. Learning to alter the water’s temperature to make it freeze or unfreeze wasn’t anywhere near the curriculum. Didn’t mean he didn’t try. Except he was too angry because he didn’t want to be worried. 

So he stopped trying to water-bend the ice away and instead unleashed his fury with his fire-bending until he saw some of the ice give way before earth-bending a stalagmite to shatter it’s way through. 

I started thinking about world building rules and them being applied to different fandom. Implementing the Avatar bending to H50, and it made me think. Being surrounded by so much water, water benders are pretty dangerous. They always have a weapon, and if they’re mastered it enough the humidity in the air, even if there isn’t an obvious body of water, they still have access to it( never mind potential gangs and criminal organization potentially having Blood Benders). 

Then I was thinking, how much of the average tourist would a)not know a fuck shit about the proper water temperature a place, it’s plant life, and animal life need to remain stable? And b)would be assholes to try and make their own waves or bigger waves or retaliate against anyone or to show off? 

Beaches in an Avatar AU would have STRICT rules in place. Lifeguards might need to be specially trained to like a military level to secure the peace, ensure the safety of native plant and animal life.

Water benders, no matter the profession or life style they lead/live, if they’re in Hawaii they are limited to just water bending. Healing, yes...but when it comes to temperature control...there are like...two official water bending MASTERS who know how to turn water into snow or ice. And it’s become a thing where it’s just been like that for so long that no one really questions it unless they’re not from there. 

I made Danny a Water-Bender and with how winters are on the east coast, and because I personally headcanon Danny to just have a more affinity to colder climates, to him ice and snow are second nature. And because he came from a big city where younger water benders as young as 7-8 year olds make their first bit of chump change by offering to snow-bend the drive ways of little old ladies or get more allowance if they wake up and defrost their parent’s car...when Danny first came to Hawaii as he followed Grace, seen as an outsider with the element that may have the most restrictions, particularly in his specialty. It was hard but Danny learned to ‘control’ himself..aka adjust his mannerism. (He’s always in control. Just...things that were normal for him are a big deal on the island, but he has never been out of control of his element. Danny is also a Blood Bender and that’s why but it’s not knowledge anyone knows and he’s terrified of anyone learning)  

Steve has seen plenty of Danny’s power, potential, and most importantly his control. It’s why Steve chose Danny to be his Water bending master instead of the native Hawaiian born they wanted to assign him. There are also a lot of deeper feelings involved, so Steve hearing that Danny elsa fortressed himself means something is very wrong! 

but on like a lighter note, when they need something from Kamekona, Danny has bribed him with water-bending him x-lbs of shaved ice. 

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ me & my husband ]❜

ft. the salesman (gong ji-cheol) x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ you don’t need your husband to be perfect, you just want him to be honest┊3.3k words

contains: written before s2 came out!! probably ooc or inaccurate, angst with spots of fluff & a bittersweet ending? reader’s pov mostly, suspicions of cheating, lack of communication, mentioned age gap, random inaccurate lore for the salesman

➤ author's note: yeah, i saw the sudden uptick in notes on that gong yoo post i made and realized season 2 came out which i completely forgot about. i intend to watch it soon as possible and write fics for it as well as (probably) add new characters to my writing list, but for now, please be content with this!!

₊˚ʚ 💌₊˚✧ this fic was heavily inspired by “emotionally intoxicated” by aurasaurora!

gong ji-cheol is the poster image for the ideal husband. he’s always been like that from the moment you met him, and you can’t help but feel like you’re the luckiest woman in the world when he calls himself yours. he’s tall and handsome, someone who catches everyone’s eye despite his only being focused on you. he’s wealthy and hard-working, able to call a luxurious mansion your home, and willing to buy you anything your heart desires as long as you ask for it. he spoils you rotten with that money, gifting you expensive things even if you didn’t ask if it reminded him of you. he’s doting, always sure to smother you in affection with kisses and cuddles whenever together to make it known how much he adores you. the sex is great too, he makes you feel wanted and desirable without ever leaving you unsatisfied. 

most importantly though, you love him, and he loves you. the last two years of marriage have been so blissful, and there isn’t a single thing you would change.

at least that’s what you believe most of the time.

you like to think you know a lot about him, and in a way, you do. you know his favorite color, how he likes his coffee, what he usually orders at restaurants, the type of wine he prefers over beer, the exaggerated shocked fasces he likes to make, how his favorite chore is folding the laundry, how his least favorite is doing the dishes because he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty, the name of his childhood pet, what positions he likes to cuddle or fuck in, the names he’s thinking of giving to your child when they are finally born— there are so many little details you know about him, yet at times you feel like you don't know anything at all.

you don’t really know much about his childhood aside from a few random stories, he claims there’s nothing really notable and that it was as standard as can be. you don’t know who his parents were or what they were like because he said they died when he was young, but surely that’s an important loss which must have impacted him and made youth difficult in some way? you don’t know about his past partners if he even had any, but you doubt you were his first as he was yours with a face like his. you don’t know any of his secrets, like an embarrassing moment or something sinful he might have committed in the past. 

he knew all of these things about you and the little details of your life, so why don’t you know any of the most basic things regarding your own husband?

these periods of uncertainty are few and far, but once the icy tendrils of doubt creep in, it’s difficult to shake them off when you realize you only know these things through observations and not him actually telling you. it’s a miracle your stupidity allowed you to make it this far in falling head over heels for him, getting married, and carrying his child (not that you completely regret it, you still love him, but you wish you had given it more time).

they say there are no such things as stupid questions, yet the main question you have is exactly that as it’s something every wife should know even before the marriage. it would be impressive how long you’ve been clueless about this matter if it weren’t for how often and how skilled he is in managing to evade your curiosity and steer the conversation elsewhere. you didn’t want to press on it since he seems to shut it down every time the topic is brought up and you don’t want to fight over something you technically didn’t need to know, but it weighs on you and presses into your chest with the knowledge you were being kept in the dark. 

what did your husband do for a living, exactly?

his schedule is always unpredictably changing with little rhyme or reason and it confuses you. sometimes you’ll go an entire few days without seeing him, sensing him wake up in the morning before the sun is even up, feeling him kiss you on the cheek before getting ready, and not coming back until long after you fall asleep with no communication aside from a note on the table telling you he’ll be gone for the day along with a wad of cash for you to treat yourself while he’s gone. other times he’ll be chilling at home for an entire week, waking you up with aggressive cuddles (or morning sex), making you breakfast with the morning news on in the background, and taking you out to wherever you want to go on his card in his rare casual clothing and messy wavy hair rather than the typical fancy suits and hair styled with gel. 

as far as you’re concerned, he’s a businessman of sorts, although you don’t know what company he works for or what position he has in terms of hierarchy or how an occupation of that type allows such flexibility in hours or anything at all. 

“what if he’s having an affair?”

you paused for a second before continuing the motion of slicing the cheesecake with a fork and savoring the taste in your mouth. “that’s ridiculous,” you stated simply after swallowing. “he loves me very much, and it doesn’t explain his weird schedule either.”

today was spent with some friends you met back in high school, but honestly, you were only attending out of politeness and tradition since you honestly feel like you’ve disconnected from these girls long before the current. still, you treasure the memories shared in your more formative years and wouldn’t ever say no to them if they wanted to hang out like old times. ji-cheol doesn’t bother to hide his distaste for them, calling them a miserable lot who try to drag you down at every opportunity out of jealousy for your happiness. you laugh it off, but you know deep down he’s right and yet you’re still sitting here at the cafe with them with bright smiles like their words don’t cut deep. 

“maybe he’s dating the boss— a sexy office siren type— she gives him plenty of days off and he stays with her at her beach house at jeju island or something to keep her company, and then she gives him lots of money in exchange.”

“oh my god, could you imagine?”

“can you be realistic? it sounds like you’re just writing a plot for a new drama,” you giggled, not allowing the feeling of a twisting blade in your abdomen to show on your face or the venom to drip from your words at the mere thought of the man you loved being stolen away a faceless woman who was everything you wished you were more of: more beautiful, more wealthy, more experienced, more intelligent—

“you don’t know because he’s your first love or whatever— and you’re so lucky to have been able to marry him— but men are dogs, and i don’t see why he would be the exception.”

“but he treats me so well—”

“maybe he only treats you well because you’re pregnant— he probably just feels guilty. i mean, when i was pregnant and had my first, my husband wasn’t attracted to me anymore and demanded a divorce unless i lost the baby weight.” she shrugged like it was so simple, so common, like the notion of marriage wasn’t something so deeply important and could be thrown away so easily.

“we aren’t suggesting you get a divorce, but we’re just saying you should keep an eye on him— you know? a handsome guy like him was always bound to get a lot of attention…” her laugh was shrill and high-pitched, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“right… thanks guys…”

that night, you couldn’t stop twisting and turning on the large sectional couch with thoughts rushing through your head of your husband with some other woman. the jealousy from these fictional scenarios without evidence of existence plagued you. it made you want to vomit up the negative feelings and go back to the person you were a few hours ago without the images of him cheating planted in your mind, which didn’t go unnoticed by him and caused him to ask what was bothering you as it wouldn't be good for the baby.

you hesitated for a moment, “could you tell me about your exes?”

“why are you suddenly curious about that?” he chuckled, knowing damn well that it was because of those stupid snakes masquerading as people (it truly takes one to know one) running their mouths again, but still feigning obliviousness for your sake. 

“just wondering,” you muttered. “i mean, you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, but you’re a bit older than me so…”

“and i hope to be the only one too,” he smirked confidently, making you laugh as he plopped down on the ground and rested his head on the cushion next to yours. 

it was such a casual setting in such a vast space, bringing you back to the days in your little apartment inviting him over for chicken and beer before you knew about your immense wealth and got embarrassed over your cheap dates when he was so used to expensive restaurants. he found it very endearing though, knowing you liked him for him and not his money.

“well, if you’re so curious…” he trailed off, but you weren’t quite sure if it was because of hesitation or because he simply didn’t know where to start. you can’t remember the last time a conversation like this was held to learn more about him since it was usually about you, maybe back when you first started dating and briefly discussed his late parents.

he started with his crush when he was in middle school since that was his earliest recollection of feeling love, who didn’t really count as a girlfriend or love because nothing was established and because of their age, but she was his first kiss that he ran away from right after because of how nervous he was, and it was never addressed again. apparently it was his second girlfriend who taught him everything he knew before he met you, saying she basically “trained him like a dog” to create a gentleman out of an inexperienced boy who still wasn’t quite sure how to treat a woman like a queen. she was a bit mean though, and he didn’t realize he dodged a bullet until later after realizing she was unnecessarily cruel to him for no reason multiple times if he didn’t do things exactly her way.

you suppose you always knew your husband wasn’t always the suave charmer you know him to be, but the image of younger him being clueless on matters of romance made you burst out laughing because of how you could hardly picture it.

he reached over to pinch your cheek affectionately, “are you of all people really making fun of me when you were too scared to hold my hand for me to escort you out of my car?”

“oh my god, that was on our first date, i can’t be blamed! i was shaking like crazy on that day— you had to tell me that you didn’t bite.”

“i was actually thinking about calling off our date last minute because of an emergency at work,” he confessed, “but i’m glad i didn’t and met the love of my life instead.”

“aw, you flirt.” the memory made you smile and feel all giggly inside, all the fears you had about him possibly having an affair falling away, yet there were still some lingering at the back of your mind with the mention of his job. “what happened at work?”

“nothing that important,” he said instantly like clockwork. “just some boring business things.”

you didn’t push it, not wanting to ruin the mood, but once again, your curiosity was just itching to ask more questions about his work life even if it was truly as boring as he says. you wanted to know every mundane detail whether it was what his office looked like or what the annoying co-worker did on a daily basis, anything to satiate your need to know more about this mysterious man you had made life-long vows with.

it all came to a head one night while you were cooking dinner, you heard the doorbell ring a dozen times in quick succession and answered it to find an older man with fiery red hair that seemed to match his temper. when he addressed your husband by name and verified your relationship with him, he began spewing all kinds of insults about the blood he had on his hands by luring innocent people to their deaths and you felt your heart drop. you tried to reason with him that there must have been some sort of mistake, barely able to get your words out in a fit of confusion and surprise at the absurd accusation, but he wouldn’t hear you out and pointed a finger in your face, asking if you had any idea what gong ji-cheol was doing behind your back. 

at that very moment, he was suddenly seized by two anonymous men in all black, causing him to yell out in panic as they dragged him away and stuffed him in the back of a car before quickly driving off into the night without a trace. it all happened so fast, you just stood there with your mouth open in shock, wondering if you should call the police on what looked like an abduction. 

then your husband comes running up the steps with his locked briefcase in hand, shouting out your name, asking you if you’re okay, pulling you back inside the comfort of your shared home, and checking you all over to make sure you aren’t harmed in any way. when you ask about who that man was and what he was talking about, he simply told you he was some crazy customer who was dissatisfied with the company, was looking for someone to blame, and promised to tell you the details later. 

you didn’t tell him that you didn’t believe him, just pursed your lips and furrowed your brow for a second then let go of the topic like you always do, taking his coat off his shoulders with a peck on the lips asking how his day was. he reciprocated the kiss, said it was fine without anything special, and that he would shower before having dinner, something he didn’t really need to say since you already knew but stated anyway as per evening routine. 

as he headed up the stairs and disappeared from sight, you stared at the locked briefcase resting crookedly on the little entryway table and paused for a moment. if you did this, it would be a breach of privacy and a sign of growing distrust in your husband, but it could also answer all of the questions that never cease. 

your hands wouldn’t stop shaking involuntarily as you felt the cold black metal underneath your fingertips, marveling at the smooth material clean of any scratches or dents. fidgeting with the built-in combination lock, six number sequences started rushing through your mind as you started to hastily run through your options with a focus on dates. you were determined to only do this three times since you had no idea if an alarm would be set off or if it would close off permanently.

his birthday?

an electronic beep went off indicating you were incorrect, making you nervous.

your birthday?

wrong again, you only had one attempt left. you swallowed, shaking the accumulating sweat off your hands.

the date of your wedding?

you gasped as the locks suddenly flipped open and lightly knocked against the briefcase. it was undone, you could open it at any moment now and see it all.

and yet you still hesitated during this golden opportunity. was it the fact that the passcode to his most secret possession was the day you got married? was it guilt for going behind your husband’s back for answers instead of directly asking him? was it because you were afraid of what you would find if you discovered the red-haired man was telling the truth?

whatever it was, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and locked it again, leaving it looking untouched and went back to playing dinner.

there was a heavy tension present at the dinner table that night, the only conversation present being him interrogating you about what the red-haired man talked about word-for-word. not really interrogating since his tone of voice was still calm and gentle as he asked questions, but you could see him fidgeting with his fork and not leaving much room for any other topic until he was sure you told him everything. he then sighed and claimed the man was insane, a gambling addict who was too deep in debt to afford treatment and was trying to drag him into his misery after meeting at the subway station. 

“ji-cheol?”

he froze for a second, not used to hearing you use his real name rather than a pet name. “yes?”

“what do you do for a living, exactly?”

a pause, you watched him fidget with his chopsticks and shift the grains of rice around. “you know, business stuff— nothing you need to concern yourself about—“

“but i don’t know! that’s the thing!” you felt tears starting to well up behind your eyes, letting two years of frustration trickle through. “i know it doesn’t seem that important for me to know, but is it really so important that you leave me in the dark about it for the three years we’ve been lovers? and now some guy comes to our doorstep and tells me about how your job is playing games with people at the subway station to make them participate in death games?!” you took a deep breath, calming yourself down, “please, be honest with me, that’s all i want…”

“i-i…” that was the first time you’ve ever heard him stutter, and if the situation wasn’t so tense, you would be proud you finally got one-up on him. “i can’t say… it’s for your own safety and mine.”

“so he was right?”

he remained silent, trying to think of some way to counter what seong gi-hun had told you, but if you didn’t believe the elaborate lie he already told you and wanted to learn more, then he knew this was the end of the road. 

“i-i need some time to think…” you looked defeated and it broke his heart. “i’m going to my mom’s house tonight, i’ll be back tomorrow—“ you got up, not bothering to pack anything aside from your phone and your wallet.

he had prepared for you to start screaming and crying (not that he would blame you, i mean, who would willingly stay with a man who was complicit in mass murder), demanding a divorce and packing your things to shut the door for him never to be seen again with your unborn child. the strangely calm reaction was both a relief and extremely unsettling to him.

“i won’t be mad if you decide not to come back” he stated plainly, defeated in a state you’ve never seen him in before. “whatever choice you make, i’ll support you, just know i love you— more than anything else in this world.”

you stared at him blankly through the open doorway. perhaps your husband isn’t the perfect man you believed him to be, but he was as honest as he possibly could have been with you regarding the matter, and that’s enough. 

“i love you too, i’ll be back in the morning.” that’s how you feel at the moment, but you don’t know if you’ll feel the same way tomorrow morning when it sinks in.

[imaginedisish]

Liquid Smooth (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Started writing this last night...sooo happy you guys wanted a sex pollen fic! Hope it lives up to everyone's expectations! This one is (obviously) inspired by "Liquid Smooth," by Mitski. ENJOY!

Summary: A simple mission deep in a forest alone with Logan quickly gets out of hand when you just have to go and pick a flower...

Warnings: 18+ EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT MINORS DNI! Dry humping, Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), Sex Pollen (so dub!con just to be safe, but not really), Multiple orgasms, Porn Without Plot...literally, implied!age gap, cursing, friends to lovers, fem!reader/afab!reader, probably some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 3,797 muahaha

“I don’t need a goddamn babysitter,” you murmur as Logan thumbs through the controls of the X-Jet. “Could’ve done this by myself.” 

Logan scoffs. “I’m not your babysitter, princess.” You roll your eyes at the nickname Logan has specially reserved just for you. “Charles said we’d be safer going together. He knows you can handle yourself.”

The X-Jet cruises effortlessly through the clouds. The air is still today. Calm. You and Logan are on your way to get some sort of flower that Charles claims to have extensive healing properties. It’s an easy mission. No fighting. No violence. You’re unlikely to have to use your powers at all. And yet, you’ve been paired with Logan. 

It wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t—admittedly—a little into him. Or rather, pining after him. There’s just something about the sarcasm that’s always thick in his voice; the way he squeezes himself into those thin beaters. How he’s always so self-assured, so thoroughly convinced he’s right. You just can’t help it. You want him. But he isn’t yours, and he probably never will be. He’s a little older—well, a lot, considering he’s been around forever. And you know it’s safer not to make attachments—not to fall in love.

Unfortunately, it’s a little too late for that. 

But having him here with you now, alone, with no buffers…it’s overwhelming. You can smell him—that mix of tobacco and pine and musk and him. He’s suddenly everywhere, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You watch as his long fingers press different buttons, his hands gripping the steering wheel, adjusting thrusters. You stare at those fingers for far too long, your thoughts drifting to what else he can do with them. You think about him curling them deep inside you, stretching you open and—

“Everything okay?” You snap your head to face Logan, swallowing harshly as his voice pulls you back to reality. 

You force a smile, nodding. “Yep!” You say, overcompensating just a bit. “All good,” you lie. You close your eyes, trying to push thoughts of Logan out of your head, denying the heat growing between your legs.

“Good, because we’re almost there,” Logan says, the X-Jet descending carefully. You look out the window to see the trees below. There’s a lake in the distance, but that’s it. No civilization, no houses—no one. It’s empty, peaceful. 

“We’re really in the middle of nowhere, huh?” You say, glancing at Logan. 

His eyes meet yours and he smiles. Warmth blooms in your heart at the sight. “My kind of place,” he says back. The X-Jet descends further as you approach a clear spread of grass to land on just ahead. 

This is, in fact, not your kind of place. The humidity creeps up your back and settles under your skin. The forest is overgrown and impossible to navigate. You let Logan slice through the plant life with his claws, swiping back and forth whenever something gets in your way.

You haven’t been walking for long, but you’re already done. Perhaps Charles was right; a partner is not the worst idea on a mission like this. 

You can see the flower just ahead—yellow petals and a long, green, viny stem. It glows brightly even under the dense forest canopy. “Semper in tenebris lux,” Charles had said; there is always light in darkness. And he was right. The flower illuminates everything in its path. Next to it, you can see a pretty, lavender-colored flower. You stop in your tracks, letting Logan wander ahead as you crouch down to stroke the purple petals. 

“Charles didn’t say anything about not taking other flowers too, right?” You call out, watching as Logan swipes carefully at the stem of the yellow flower. He holds the dainty stem in his large hands as he walks back over to you. 

“No, he didn’t. But you should be careful. It could be poisonous or—”

You ignore Logan, picking the flower anyway. You hold it up to your nose and breathe in. It’s sweet and fragrant. You twist the stem and realize the flower is sticky with sap and pollen. Your twist shakes some of the pollen up, and it lands all over your face. 

“Shit,” you mutter, wiping it away. A gust of wind sweeps through the forest, knocking the flower out of your hand and spreading more of its pollen in the air. You can feel it in your nostrils, getting caught in your throat.

Logan furrows his brows as the pollen falls to the ground. “What the fuck did you do?”

You roll your eyes. “All I did was pick a flower!” You lift your hands, feigning innocence. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” You stand up, glancing once at the yellow flower in Logan’s hands and then back at Logan. “It’s pretty.”

He parts his lips, his stare focused on you. “Yeah, it is.” There’s something else in that stare, in those words. Like maybe he isn’t only talking about the flower. You shove those thoughts down as you turn around and walk back to the jet.

Your steps are suddenly very heavy. You scratch at your shoulder. Heat blooms in your chest, your stomach, across your face. You’re irritated and overheated and itchy. Your breath grows heavier and rougher with every step. 

Logan notices immediately. He stops, grabbing your arm. You can’t control the way you lean into his touch, nor the way you’re craving more. “Hey,” he soothes, eyes searching your face. “Are you okay?” There’s a hint of panic in his voice. 

You swallow harshly, nodding. Your throat feels thick, your skin tight and oppressive. “’M’fine,” you mumble. 

“Quit lying. I can tell something’s wrong,” Logan demands. You open your mouth to persuade him otherwise, but he doesn’t give you the chance, his grip tightening around your arm. “Your skin is on fucking fire, princess. What did you do?” He cocks his head, sniffing as he furrows his brows. His voice is darker now, slower as his eyes widen. “What the fuck did you do?”

You take in a sharp breath. And that’s when you feel it, the ache between your thighs, the slick arousal soaking through your panties. The realization smacks you in the face. For a moment, you’re clear-headed, but still terrified. The pollen. That goddamn, fucking pollen. “Logan, look, I think that purple flower had some—"

He cuts you off as he yanks your arm, tugging you towards the ship. “We need to get you back to the jet, okay?”

“Oh, I am so fucked,” you cry. You know you only have a few seconds left before the effects really kick in. “L-Logan,” you stutter, almost moaning as your core burns stronger with need. “T-the pollen was everywhere. What if you got some too?” 

He ignores you, handing you the yellow flower you came here for in the first place. He sweeps one hand under your legs and keeps the other at your back as he lifts you in his arms—bridal style. You can feel his heart beating in his chest. You lean into him again, searching for relief. Wetness pools between your legs. You have never felt this needy before. Your desire hurts, burns, scorches you. You rut your hips, clenching down around nothing. 

“S-stop doing that,” Logan spits, restrained and quiet. 

“C-can’t,” you whine. “It hurts, Logan. It hurts so fucking bad. How come you aren’t like this too?”

He pulls you tighter to his chest. “I feel a little something, but that might just…”

You tilt your head up to look at him. He works his jaw, that perfect jaw. You want to bite it, to bury your face in the crook of his neck. “Might just be what?” You ask, tentatively brushing your lips against the hollow of his throat. 

“Nothing, just—fuck,” he groans as you press soft, open-mouthed kisses all around his neck now. “Don’t do that, princess. You don’t want this.”

“But I do, Logan,” you beg. The ramp to the jet lowers as you and Logan approach. “N-need you.” You bury your face into his shoulder, breathing him in. “Need y-you all the time.” The confession slips easily from your lips. 

Logan’s eyes widen as he walks up the ramp and into the ship. It lifts and seals shut behind him. “You don’t mean that, sweetheart. Let’s just get you back to the mansion as quickly as possible, yeah?”

He places you down on the seat next to him, taking the flower from your hands and putting it in the jar Charles had given you. The leather cold at your back almost feels good, almost relieving—until you realize Logan is no longer holding you, touching you. You reach out towards him, grabbing his arms, pulling him back in. “Don’t go,” you plead, nails digging into his biceps. Your body is on fire. Everything is unbearably painful. “Please,” you whimper. “Need you so fucking bad, just you.” 

“Fuck,” Logan curses. “I am not taking advantage of you. I am not doing this.” He stands, freeing himself from your grasp and walking over to the pilot’s chair. “I’m getting you back to the mansion and we’re going to fix this, okay?”

But that’s not good enough for you. You stand up and walk over to Logan. Your steps are shaky, your legs trembling. Your chest heaves, your heart beating rapidly. You climb into Logan’s lap, straddling him, one leg on either side. “Logan, I can’t fucking wait,” you cry, grinding down onto his lap. The pressure feels delicious.  He grabs your hips, stilling you, forcing you in place. And that’s when you feel it: his erection, hard underneath your core. “This isn’t you. You don’t really want this, don’t really want m—”

“It is me,” you protest, squirming against his hold. “Logan, I’ve wanted you for months. I-I was thinking about you t-touching me the whole way here.” You remember the way his fingers dexterously pushed all the right buttons. Need courses through you like a river, and as Logan’s hold on your hips softens, you grind down into his lap, against his erection. “S-so good,” you cry out. 

His hands are still on your hips, but now he’s guiding you, rocking you against his cock. “J-just this though, okay?” 

You hum, pressing your forehead to his, rolling your hips faster. The relief is like heaven. His arms wrap around your back, his fingers trailing up and down soothingly. Logan ruts into you, his erection straining against his jeans. You can feel yourself getting closer, but the pain, the need, it’s all still the same. 

“Logan, it’s not gonna be enough,” you whisper, his lips ghosting yours. “N-need more. Hurts so bad.”

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, like he’s scared to truly touch you. But he wants to consume your pain, to take it away, to feel it for you. You can see it written across his face, in the way his cock throbs against your swollen clit, how he snaps his hips into yours. 

“I know, princess,” he coos, his hands like fire on your back. Your walls contract around nothing, begging for something to hold onto, to feel something sink deep inside. “Gonna take care of you.” He kisses you again, with more vigor this time, more passion. “I’ve got you, darlin’.”

You moan into his mouth. His composure is slipping, disintegrating with every roll, every rock of your hips against his. His cock notches against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure up the base of your spine. He hikes your shirt up, the cold air hitting your overheated skin. “F-feels good,” you stammer. You’re almost there, almost hitting that peak. “S-so close.”

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes. “Let go for me, know you can do it.” 

You moan his name, your orgasm crashing into you like a crescendo. You know you’re soaking through your clothes, and probably onto Logan’s too. He’s still rutting against you, giving you more. He knows it’s not going to be enough, and he’s right. Need builds back up just as quickly as you found your release. 

 “Lo…” you trail off, looking up at him under lust-filled eyes. You swallow harshly, squirming in his lap helplessly. “G-gotta have you.” 

He presses his forehead to yours. He works his jaw, parting his lips. “Y-you meant it when you said you wanted me before this?” But he already knows the answer. He knows you wouldn’t lie to him about that, not even now. 

“Yes,” you whine, pulling him closer. He tugs your shirt all the way over your head and picks you up, hands firmly gripping your ass. “Still gonna want you after this, too.”

He curses under his breath as he places you down in the pilot’s chair. He’s frenzied and frantic as he hooks his thumbs into your pants and panties, yanking them down your legs and casting them to the side. 

He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands, his thumbs brushing soft circles into your inner thighs. He’s kneeling, looking up at you. Your breath catches in your throat as his face settles between your legs. 

“Could smell you before, pretty girl,” he husks, his breath fanning over your clit. “Wanted this so fucking bad.” He doesn’t keep you waiting, licking a long stripe through your folds and up to your clit. “Knew you’d taste perfect. Pretty fucking pussy.” 

You throw your head back as his lips latch onto your clit, sucking harshly. He slips one hand across your back, keeping you close. His free hand climbs up your thigh, fingers exploring your folds as his tongue flits across your swollen bud. He spreads your arousal, prodding against your entrance before shoving two fingers deep inside you. “Logan!” You cry out, your walls clenching around him. He’s stretching you out, his fingers dragging inside you. He pulls out and plunges back in. He isn’t taking his time, isn’t teasing. He’s giving you what you need, pump after pump. 

You look down at him, his face buried in your cunt, consuming you, swallowing you whole like a starving man. He’s lost inside you, lapping at you with unwavering hunger and desire. His tongue swirls around your clit, his teeth grazing ever so slightly. You moan his name again, and he hums against you, the vibrations of his bassy voice rocking through your body. He’s wrecking you, but it feels so goddamn good. 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he goads you along. He’s adding a third finger now, and you suck him in. You’d take anything he gives you, anything at all. “Doing so good for me, taking it so well.” 

He sucks roughly, your walls clenching around him at the feeling. “Yeah?” He grunts, sucking again. “You like that? Feels good?” 

“Y-yes,” you stammer, stumbling over that one simple word. “S-so fucking good.” 

“I know, beautiful,” he groans, nipping at your clit in between his rough sucks. “Gonna make that hurt go away, okay?” His voice is like honey, sugar; it’s sweet, addictive. “You just gotta come for me again, can you do that?” His tongue strokes your clit, his fingers pumping faster now. 

You nod your head emphatically, pleasure surging as you near your peak. “Yeah, I-I can,” you huff. 

Logan smiles against your cunt between rough laps. “I know you can, sweetheart.” His fingers scissor inside you, deeper than before. He takes your clit between his lips again, sucking hard. 

And that’s all it takes—you’re screaming his name, coming undone, unraveling underneath him. The release is even better than the first, more full, more complete. Logan thrusts in and out a few more times before slowly pulling his fingers from your cunt. He licks one more long stripe through your folds and looks up into your eyes. 

For a moment, the fire inside has been quenched. You feel clear, levelheaded. But it doesn’t last long. “Fuck,” you moan, your head hitting against the headrest of the chair. The fire is back, spreading across your stomach, your chest. “Logan,” you whimper. “I n-need more.”

“It’s okay, pretty girl,” he coos, taking you back up into his arms. He hoists you out of the seat, his hands finding your ass, squeezing softly. You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you across the jet, setting you down on a storage container. 

You bring your hands up to his biceps. “Need you this time, Lo,” you choke, stroking up and down his arms as the heat builds painfully between your thighs. 

“Are you sure?” He asks, eyes searching yours. 

“Always wanted you, always sure,” you whisper, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Wanted you too,” he husks. “But I wanted it to be different, to—” You cut him off. “Just want you. It’s okay like this. I promise.” You grind against him, his erection still straining inside the denim of his jeans. 

He takes the hint, and quickly unbuckles his belt, casting the leather to the metal floor with a clunk. He’s unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, shoving them down his legs, and lining himself up with your entrance. You push your hips forward, giving him better access. His other hand pushes your bra above your breasts, exposing you completely to him. 

With one hand on his cock and one squeezing your tits gently, he thrusts himself into you. He’s so deep—down to the hilt—stretching you out and working you open. He groans, flicking your nipple with his thumb, his lips at the shell of your ear. “So fucking beautiful,” he whispers, sending a chill down your spine, quenching that fire inside. “So warm, so tight.” He pulls out and plunges back in again, filling you up. 

“Lo,” you whine. “More.”

“I know,” he growls, his hips snapping into yours, bottoming out with every thrust. “Gonna take care of you, pretty girl.” He squeezes your tits once more before sliding his hand down your body and slipping between where the two of you connect. His fingers find your clit, drawing rough circles around the bud. “That feel good, beautiful?” 

“Y-yes, Logan, so fucking good,” you cry out as he rocks into you. His other hand grips your hip tightly, holding you in place. You hope there’s a bruise there later—proof that he touched you, proof that he fucked into you like the world was ending. 

His cock rubs against your walls, your muscles contracting around him, sucking him in deeper. “Squeezing me so good, sweetheart,” he praises, his lips crashing down onto yours, swallowing your moans. He’s taking all of you, hard and fast. You can feel him twitching inside you, throbbing with the same need you feel pulsing through your veins. 

Logan kisses your jaw, and then just underneath, biting down on your pulse point. You arch your back, your chest meeting his. The contact is delicious, the friction a necessity. He thrusts into you faster now, doing his all to satiate your every need. He’s getting you there, pump after pump, hitting that sweet spot inside you every time. 

It’s working. You can feel yourself slipping again, melting. “Logan,” you hum, too fucked out to say anything other than his name. That beautiful name, like a song in the air, a gentle prayer, a holy ghost. He’s all you need—all you’ve ever needed. 

Your walls contract, squeezing him tightly. “Fuck,” he mutters. You know he’s close too. He strokes your clit, circling roughly. “Come on, pretty girl. You can do it, let me get you there again.” 

“Lo,” you cry, your eyes fluttering open and shut as he fucks into you, rutting his hips, plunging deeper still. It’s all too much. You can feel the pleasure drumming inside you, coming to a head. 

Logan loosens his grip on your hip and slides his hand behind your back, pulling you into his chest. You rest your forehead against his. “Come on my cock, princess, let go.” And you do. You’d do anything for him. You moan as your orgasm tears through you. It’s all blinding white heat, liquid smooth, pleasure wracking your body. 

Logan curses under his breath, close behind. He pulses inside you once, and then he’s coming undone. Your arms wrap around his back, keeping him close, letting him know it’s okay to finish inside. He fills you up, whispering praises in your ear as you both come down from your high. Such a good fucking girl. Did so good for me. So fucking good. Perfect little pussy.

He’s still inside you, pumping slowly as you ride out your orgasm. His fingers let go of your clit, his hands running up your back and tugging you closer to him. He slowly pulls out, keeping you tight against his chest. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers against the shell of your ear. You take a deep breath, waiting for the heat to build again, waiting for that need to surge every cell of your being. But there’s nothing. Your nerves are suddenly quiet—silent. 

“I-I think it’s over,” you stutter, still nervous that maybe it’s not. He keeps you there, holding you tightly, ready to start again if necessary. 

After a few minutes, you let yourself relax. It’s not coming back. It’s over. 

Logan presses a chaste kiss to the side of your head. “I’ve still got you. Not going anywhere.” Your heart rate has finally slowed down. The heat is gone. You feel comfortable in your skin again. You take a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into Logan’s chest. 

“Nothing to be sorry for, princess,” Logan reassures, his voice gentle and soft. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You nod against him, but you still feel a sting in your heart. You need to make him know that you meant what you said—need him to know exactly how you feel. You swallow nervously, ready to bite the bullet. 

“Logan,” you breathe. “I-I meant everything I said. It wasn’t just the pollen.” You pull yourself from his chest, looking up at him. “I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted you…” you trail off. “S-still need you now. Nothing’s changed.” 

He smiles down at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I know, darlin’,” he husks. “I wanted you before, and I still do, too.” 

“I know you wanted it to be different. I know it wasn’t—” But he cuts you off, his lips capturing yours, quieting your anxious rambles. “We’ll have other chances. Other times to do it the way I want.” He smirks, running his hands up and down your back. 

Other chances. Other times. More. More. More. “Yeah?” You ask. 

“Yeah, princess.”

tags: @wolviesgirl @dojacatswink @dilf420 @spiderset @pleasantlycrazyworld @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @y-ns-things

[minisugakoobies]

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted. 

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem. 

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you. 

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around. 

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around. 

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous? 

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye. 

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago. 

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him. 

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late. 

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs. 

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back. 

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that. 

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You:  It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me? 

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort. 

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little. 

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is. 

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one. 

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance. 

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response. 

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing. 

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man. 

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible. 

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.  

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not? 

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now. 

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide. 

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -  

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge. 

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?” 

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back. 

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands. 

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu. 

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon. 

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it? 

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses. 

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.” 

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close. 

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.  

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?” 

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment. 

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now. 

“I want what you promised me.” 

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.” 

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.” 

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.  

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him. 

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can. 

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.” 

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”  

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips. 

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face. 

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel. 

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.” 

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want. 

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation. 

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now. 

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?” 

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”  

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat. 

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes. 

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.” 

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you. 

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck. 

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly. 

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo. 

“‘Gyu, please.” 

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around. 

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?” 

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.” 

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you. 

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up. 

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements. 

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!” 

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.” 

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids. 

“It’ll be something like this.” 

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.” 

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over. 

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!” 

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you. 

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again. 

“Kiss me.” 

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.” 

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip. 

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.” 

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands. 

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.” 

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture? 

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.” 

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”  

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?” 

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.” 

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?” 

“I might have some ideas.” 

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!” 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[kujiba]

【Go on and Love Me】

୨୧ — ꒰ male!reader | he/his prounouns | Sagau | Genshinimpact

୨୧ — ꒰ Streamer!Reader who gets sidetracked by people's donations/chats making the genshin characters feel jealous

Ft. Xiao, Wanderer, Kinich, Traveler

A/n: inspired by la2yn0va hsr fic

X I A O

(Name) happily smiled at another donation sent to him after recently completing a natlan quest

"Thanks for the 20 bits donation!"

He thanked the chat with a wide smile, the chat which was filled with people commenting every second flooding the entire screen making (Name) shift his focus to answer their questions about himself.

This cute interaction made (Name) feel warm and lovely in the inside, being able to interact with fans who admired him.

You know who wasn't happy? A dark headed male inside a screen wasn't that happy unlike (Name). Why were these people gifting you so low? Most of all why was (Name)'s attention not on him anymore?

He had to pull alot of strings to make his own crit rise up since (Name)'s luck on the Vermilion domain was absolutely dog shit.

(Name) — Hm? My favorite character in genshin?

Xiao — You called?

Xiao unintentionally blurted that out without any thoughts whatsoever, but when he did realize and saw (Name)'s confused face along with the chat going wild.

Without any choice Xiao did his idle animation to hide his face away from you, he used his mask so that Xiao won't face you for a while since he was in a very vulnerable state

(Name) — New mail? Sweet 300 primos!

(Chat) — Fr? I didn't get any new mail from hoyo yet.

(Name) — Well.. Free primos is free primos

If (Name)'s happy then he'll rest easy today. Hopefully no rumors circulate about what happened earlier.. Self aware fanfics are crazy these days.

W A N D E R E R

Wanderer stared at (Name) blankly, he was too busy thanking people with countless of donations to even realize they were still in a boss fight farming material's for upcoming characters.

Wanderer became (Name)'s fan ever since he saw him at that temporary event named 'Unreconciled Stars Event Quest The Crisis Deepens'.

Smug mf since he made (Name) hit hard pity for him. But was kind enough to give you his c1 after 140 wishes

(Chat) — Why don't you change your main (Streamer Name)?

An irk mark appears on Wanderer's face but wasn't that visible on screen.

Is this swine telling (Name) to replace him with someone else? Hard pass. He was already stolen from (Name)'s attention and now these nobody's are trying to persuade him into maining some other weak random than him.

Just so happen that (Name) spotted a chest nearby and happily went over to open it, Wanderer took this opportunity immediately

(Wanderer) — Unnecessary.

(Chat) — Is it just me or is his voice rougher than usual?

Damn right it's rougher since he just wanted to vent his anger out on any enemies on sight

The chat won't know but what he had said was directly targeted at them, if only he could say every insult known to man right now

So (Name), keep your eyes on him only and no one else, then maybe he'll make his attacks stronger if you comply

(Name) — Well to answer your question earlier chat, no I don't think I'll be changing my main anytime soon. Wanderer's pretty fun to play with.

After (Name) finished talking he took a closer look at Wanderer's face, but his eyes swore Wanderer had a tad bit of pink on his cheeks

His eyes must've been starting to break with the amount of streaming his doing

T R A V E L E R

(Name) had just began to prep for his stream of the week and now he was currently adjusting the Traveler's artifacts to try out a new build

You know what's crazy though? His builds are pretty shitty.

He has the absolute worst luck in artifacts plus in leveling up pieces, most of which usually goes to defense or HP%

But he still hits about 800k regularly with the Traveler! How could he do such thing with only 44.6% Crit rate!?

(Chat) — 1 MILLION?? (Name) are you doing hacks?

(Name) — What? No! Guess my Traveler's just really op

The Traveler is a smug motherfucker

Of course the Traveler wouldn't hit such high numbers without using a...slight adjustment to the system

Sure their pieces are pretty bad but they'll accept anything (Name) had given them! How could they just shake off his hard work on griding for their ascension and talents?

Whenever the Traveler sees (Name)'s shocked expression during the massive crit's appearing on his screen they are damn right happy and overjoyed they managed to satisfy their grace!

(Chat) — Your builds are bad af tho lolol

(Chat) — Why main the Traveler? They're a pretty bad character to main, you should go for Nuevillete or Alhaitham.

The Traveler's good mood immediately faded into dust once he saw the chats text

Are those no lifers saying that they're not fit to be (Name)'s vessel? They're the most perfect one!

What could Nuevillete or whatever character have that they don't? Could they switch elements? Don't think so

If they wanted bigger numbers, the Traveler will show them big numbers all right, if you want them to hit 10 million they're gonna make it happen with just one click

(Name) — Thanks for the suggestion chat but I'm going to stick with the Traveler, I'm already wayyy too attached

The Traveler's mood once again took a 360 and smiled softly at what (Name) said to them, their stomachs fluttering with delight

(Name) is attached to them? No other compliment or praise could ever reach what the Traveler was feeling at the very moment

Their grace! Oh their grace... If only they could just grab onto you and drag you here where you rightfully belong

K I N I C H

Kinich is an upcoming playable character but many in the genshin community have fallen head over heels for him

Yet he couldn't careless about them, after all just being near (Name)'s presence even though it's just by the Traveler's vessel already makes him nice and comfortable

(Name) — Day 10 of saving up for Kinich let's goo

(Chat) — Woah already 200 wishes? You're quick man

(Name) — Can't help it lmao, Kinich seems fun to play and he's really pretty!

(Chat) — He seem's boring though

(Chat) — Dude the dialouge is slightly glitching wtf

The dialouge's glitching is caused by Kinich's embarrassment and rage, he was previously just about to talk till he heard (Name) sing praises about him! How could he not accidentally stutter and mess up the dialouge!?

But on the other hand, the hell did that person meant by he was boring? He wasn't even released yet! This caused Kinich to panic mentally if whether or not you'll change your mind about pulling for him

He stared at you from the screen, clenching his fists tighter by the second. Just a small bit more... Just one more step and he'll be released, then he could really be by your side now.

(Name) — Aw man, hold on chat I gotta pause the stream to fix this glitching

(Name) eventually had to exit the game to try and see what the problem was with his device or if it was overheating again

Meanwhile Kinich was still standing there re-adjusting his thoughts about what just happened. His feelings were all a mixed bag at this point, he sighed rubbing his temples slowly

Ajaw eventually came to his side while looking at him weirdly like he had done something wrong

(Ajaw) — Wow.. Just wow

(Kinich) — Shut up...

To rightfully apologized the system eventually sent 10 wishes in (Name)'s game mail which he was confused at first but eh, more wishes for c6 knich!

Once he becomes playable Kinich would definitely spoil (Name) with high numbers and crit's. He would just have to deal with Ajaw's yapping in the meantime..

So don't get distracted over what those 'Chat' people say about him!

A/n: likes and reblogs are appreciated! Have a nice day(ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

[moonstruckme]

hi, my love! i hope you’re doing okay!

i’d be really interested to see the protectiveness of the marauders and how it plays out in a poly!marauders dynamic. say something happens to r (can be as minor or as severe as you prefer). how would each marauder react and how would their dynamics bounce off each other? would it make the situation better or worse?

I find it funny picturing r attempting to wrangle all three of her boys from throwing hands (especially if it was a mistake or a miscommunication between r and the “offender”) and they’re bouncing off each other and riling themselves up more and she’s just like, ffs I’m so sorry and tries her best to manhandle her three boyfriends away for a stern talking to. Like, thank you guys for protecting me and all that but a) t’was a mistake / miscommunication, and b) i can sort my own shit and will ask if i need back up (Sirius in the back like no need to ask, i’m ready to go bby). Everyone’s like wtf Remus?! because he’s usually the chill one and it’s just a cluserfuck of misplaced angst and fluffy humour.

this might overlap with some other requests you’ve written, so feel free to ignore or tweak as you see fit! no idea if this makes any sense but hope it’s fun to write if you decide to!

Hi lovely! I've done a couple fics with protective marauders before, so I wanted to try something a little different based on your prompt. I had a different vision in my head than how it turned out, but I hope you like it <3

cw: alcohol, sexual assault, violence

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

You’ve been known to be a…somewhat short-fused drunk. It’s not that you’ll get angry with anyone for anything, only that the sort of behavior that you might normally try to ignore, you…don’t. This is usually the behavior of men. 

It’s one of those nights where the club is made up of about forty percent young girls and sixty percent older, eagle-eyed men. You’re glad for your boyfriends, who ward off the other men like a force field around you. You feel lucky to have it and disgusted to need it. 

James’ laughter is loud and bright as you spin him around after he does you. You echo it, pleased at having inspired such a sound. With his large, sturdy build, it’s rare for James to get very drunk, but he’s about where you are now. Which is to say, you’ve been sloppily dancing and giggling with each other for the last hour. 

Remus rolls his eyes fondly when James nearly spins himself out of balance, steadying him with a hand on his back. 

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Sirius shouts. 

James laughs again, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. “Classy, babe.” 

“Bugger off.” Sirius shoves him playfully into Remus’ chest. 

You dance with them both for a minute longer before leaning in to shout, “Okay if I go get more drinks?” 

Remus eyes you both for a second, but nods. “Alright. I’ll come with you.” 

“No, stay.” You set a hand on his chest. “Don’t let Jamie dance alone. I’ll be right back, yeah?” 

You don’t give him a chance to respond as you head for the bar. It’s crowded, but you’re not about to worm between some middle-aged men to get to the front. You stand up on your toes and wait to catch the bartender’s eye. 

“What’s your name?” Suddenly there’s a warm body pressed up behind yours, hands on your hips. 

Your blood, already warmed by alcohol, turns hot in an instant. You step forward, too quick for the man behind you to follow. Turn to look him in the eyes. 

“Don’t touch me,” you say firmly. 

“Okay.” The man raises his eyebrows at you. He looks nearly old enough to be your father—certainly old enough to be someone’s father—with waxy skin and thinning hair combed over the front of his head. He’s in a suit like he came here from work. “Sorry, relax. I just think you’re beautiful.” 

“I’m here with someone.” Someones, you could say, but you’ve learned it’s easier in some situations to make it sound like you only have one partner, for brevity’s sake. And there’s nothing you desire more than for this interaction to be brief. 

He gives a little laugh. “Don’t take things so seriously, I’m only complimenting you. Do you like to dance?” 

You give him a hard look. “Only with my boyfriend.” 

“You look like you dance.” His eyes skim down your frame, raptorial. “I can tell. You have the body for it.” 

No sooner does his large, meaty hand connect with your ass than you’re grabbing it by the wrist, your free hand balling and aiming for his face. 

His surprised grunt comes in sync with a “Woah!” from behind you. 

You turn to find Remus and James, looking like they’ve just broken through the crowd. James is staring at you with wide eyes. One of the men near you at the bar sets a hand on your shoulder, pulling you away from the creep and forcing you to drop his wrist, but Remus is there in an instant. 

“Oi.” He grabs you, removing the man’s hand and caging you in his arms. “She’s fine.” 

“She hit him!” the man accuses. The guy from before is leaning forward with a hand pressed over his face. 

James is incredulous. “Did you see what he did to her?” 

The other man looks between you like he’s realized he’s missing something, and Remus takes a couple of steps back from the crowd with you in his arms. Meanwhile, your attacker seems to be recovering from his shock. He lowers his hand to reveal a discolored mark on his jaw, gaping at you. 

“You fucking cunt!” 

James gives him a hard shove, and more shouting starts up around the bar, various other patrons either cheering the fight on or trying to break it up. Remus grabs James by his shirt, tugging him along as he herds you towards the exit. “Alright, we’re going, we’re going.” 

Your journey out of the building is hurried and difficult to follow in your addled state, but everything seems to catch up to you when the dark club gives way to glaring fluorescent streetlights. You bend over under a wave of nausea. 

“Hey.” James sounds more sober than he had a few minutes ago. He stoops to look at you, your eyes wet. “You okay?” 

Remus says something to him quietly, passing James the car keys. He unwinds his arm from around you and kisses your head. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says gently. “Go wait in the car, okay?” 

“Okay…” Your voice is hardly a whimper. “Where are you going?” 

But Remus is already gone, waving down the bouncer outside of the club. 

You turn to James. “Where is he going?” 

Tears blink out of your eyes as you ask. The corners of James’ mouth turn down sympathetically. 

“Oh, my girl.” He wraps a big arm around your shoulders, kissing your head as he leads you towards the car. “What’s wrong? Does your hand hurt?” 

You shake your head, though it does a little. Your knuckles and the tops of your fingers feel odd and sore, and there’s a throbbing that goes all the way down to your wrist. That’s not what’s bothering you, though. You’re not sure if you can pick what’s bothering you. The predatory stares you’ve endured all night; the sickening realization of the man’s body pressed up against yours; his easy, blithe laughter; your own white-hot anger, there and gone before you could take account of yourself—it’s all too much. 

“I can’t believe I hit him,” you admit tearfully. 

James lets out a little laugh. “I saw, baby.” He unlocks the car, opening the back door. 

“I didn’t mean to.” 

“I—oh, okay.” James doesn’t stop you when you don’t get in, instead sitting on the floor of the car with your feet on the gravel parking lot. He sits beside you. “It’s okay if you did. He deserved it.” 

You put your head in your hands. “I don’t hit people.” 

He makes a soft sound. A big hand lands between your shoulder blades, rubbing softly. “I know you don’t, sweetheart. It’s…I get that you wouldn’t usually, but I think this counts as a special circumstance. Rem, he saw what was happening, but we couldn’t get to you fast enough. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself, you know?” 

You don’t reply, and he lets you sit in silence for a while, your weeping gradually stopping. When Remus comes back, it’s with Sirius in tow. 

“What the fuck happened?” Sirius asks tipsily. “I was looking for you!” 

“Did Remus not tell you?” James sounds excited to be the one to share the news. 

“Alright, dove?” Remus asks at a more reasonable volume, crouching in front of you. “Does your hand hurt? Can I see?” 

“No, he’s being bloody tight-lipped.” Sirius ruffles Remus’ hair. “Just said you had to go. Oi, you alright, lovely?” 

“She punched a guy in the face,” James says proudly. 

“She what?” Sirius’ mouth pops open. You shrink some under his gaze. “Baby, you what?” 

“I didn’t mean to!” you insist, though it’s hard to stay miserable when two of your boyfriends look so obviously delighted. 

Sirius shakes his head, awestruck. “What did I miss?” 

James fills him in quickly while Remus prods at your hand, eventually commending you on a rather clean hit after he’s certain you didn’t break anything. Sirius can hardly keep his mouth shut while James talks, nor can James keep from using a series of vulgar names for the man who’d touched you, though he checks on you a couple of times to be sure his storytelling isn’t upsetting you. When he’s done, Sirius’ stare has darkened, his arms crossing as he leans against the side of the car. 

“Do we think he could perhaps use a matching bruise on the other side?” he muses, gaze flicking to the entrance of the club. “Maybe one of you could point him out to me.” 

“You’ll get to see him soon,” says Remus. You look at him questioningly, but he only gives you a small smile. Cryptic.

“Really, she’s already handled it rather well herself.” James slides his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your head. “You should have seen it, I had no idea she could punch like that.” 

“Me neither,” you sigh. 

Just then, the door to the club bangs open. Two bouncers come out in their uniform black tees, hauling between them another man. 

“Alright, alright, leave off!” The creep from earlier struggles in their grasp. All three of your boyfriends tense. As he comes through the doorway, his discolored jaw catches the light. 

Sirius whistles. “Shit. That is bloody gorgeous.” 

You feel the beginnings of a smile tugging at your lips, but try to remain contrite. You catch Remus’ eye. 

“It was pretty impressive,” he says, also smiling. 

You chew your lip. “You don’t think it was wrong?” 

“What’s wrong about it?” Sirius asks. “He touched you, you touched him. I’d have done the same if I were there.” 

Remus rolls his eyes. “We know, love.” 

“I’m just saying, I could make it symmetrical…” 

“No,” Remus says sternly. He helps you up, ushering you into the backseat. “It’s time to go home.” 

James buckles in beside you while Remus gets into the driver’s seat. Sirius lingers outside the car. 

“He’s not gotten far yet, are we sure…” 

“Aw, baby, does your hand hurt?” James asks loudly. 

Sirius turns, crawling in to get a look. “Shit, did you bruise something? How’d you make a fist?” 

James reaches across him to shut the door, and Remus drives away.