#but it's been a little while since it's come up and now it's like... oh this is a familiar thing and not a new thing I'm having to deal wit

[emiqip]

Pt.3 Apocalyptic Ponyo AU ft. Shockwave and his... kids. @keferon

For all they've been through together, this had to be the dumbest thing they've ever done- which is saying something, considering not too many months ago they collectively decided to raid the city's garbage dump not taking into account that a) there would be some kind of security system (who defends trash anyway? weirdos) b) the smell and c) the local population of possums they inevitably bothered. 

All in all, that could have even been considered a good day in Skywarp's book- yeah, they didn't find anything, they all smelled pretty fucking terrible without any way of washing the stench away and they were covered in bite marks, hoping none of those things had rabies- but they laughed and joked about it for weeks after. 

This situation, however, was anything but funny. 

Following Blue's little stunt, the remaining children left at base were informed to meet at the nearest shore, where the youngest's new... friend? Still waited for them. A few minutes of shock and surprise from both parties after, they finally decided on how to fix whatever this was. The plan was simple too: separate Blue from the sea freak, gather all of their stuff and set off to the sparkly horizon, leaving all of this behind their backs- no strings attached. 

Obviously that would've been too good to be true, something had to go wrong: of course their youngest still refused to leave, even when Damus finally gained some courage and went over to pick Blue up by force- too bad the little menace immediately started ugly sobbing. Not only that, the twins got over their fear pretty quickly, replacing it with the raw force of curiosity little kids have for anything ugly, sticky and new. Cue Soundwave being assigned as their official babysitter lest the two would sprint and try to climb the fish like a pair of coked-up squirrels. And, yeah, not the smoothest outcome but hey! Now they could, you know, leave. 

He was so so wrong. As soon as the Thing noticed they were walking away it started  chirping at them over and over, like it was calling for them to get back. Kinda sad, but they could ignore it (unless you were Blue- still crying in TC's arms while making grabby hands at the mer), what alarmed them was the fact that it started to use all of its upper body strength and try to slowly beach itself in the goal of reaching their group. Needless to say the situation called for a new plan fast- even in ten, considering its size, they still weren't enough to push it back in to the water. 

The solution was just to camp out on the shore and find a way out of this in the morning. To the absolute delight of their youngest, who decided that for the night he would be sleeping with the freak, and unsurprisingly the twins only followed by starting to poke and prod at the being, who seemed to enjoy the attention as much as them. Windcharger joined their little huddle too for the evening, explaining himself with a little shrug of his shoulders and a quick, "He's warm and I'm cold- you can freeze for one more night for all I care," and left it at that. That traitor.

Oh well, this would soon be over anyway. 

\\\

Two. Weeks. 

Two whole weeks passed since this whole charade was supposed to be over, but instead he found himself being ferried away on the wettest, most fucked up recreation of the 'Magic School Bus' he's ever seen.  Worst of all Ms. Fizzle was replaced by an oversize pancake with gills. 

This was supposed to be the closest thing to a compromise: the kids got to keep their fish and the others got a free ride trough the apocalypse- pretty sweet if you asked him.

They were slowly making their way towards what was once the busiest side of the city: he remembers coming here with his brothers and getting overwhelmed every time by the sheer amount of people bustling around. Both locals and tourists blended perfectly in a vortex of voices, faces and mannerisms. For a boy who lived at the edge, this was exhilarating. 

But the best part of this chaos were the shops windows: there was one who was squeezed between a tiny flea shop and a bakery owned by a couple of kind old people- the window's space was taken by a plethora of several vintage televisions, each of them displaying something different- his favorite old show was filmed at their local aquarium and had as protagonist a young orca mer, chirping away happily at the camera, while the crowd gasped in awe at the adorable display. 

He saw his face stare right back at him from the surface of the water. Tired eyes, sunken cheeks and hair grown matted and way too long- what would he do to reverse it all and go back to their shitty daily life. 

From the front of their unusual mean of transportation, he could hear the youngest kids screaming and laughing, more likely pestering the mer like a swarm of particularly persistent flies. Being too focused on eavesdropping the racket, he didn't notice Damus approaching him on unsteady feet. 

"I saw a billboard a few minutes ago: big bright and with the directions to the biggest mall in the city- I'd say we are overdue for a scavenger hunt to restock our resources, what do you say?" The older asked, before staring off into the distance. 

"Sure, why the hell not? I'm pretty sick and tired of eating only fish anyway- cheers to the big guy for catching it for us though." He absentmindedly patted the mer, earning a pleased rumble up ahead.

With a brief nod of assent, he took off to most likely talk to Skids- the teen, after a very intense game of charades, managed to establish a method to communicate with their newest addition, he was even successful in teaching the fishman some very simple words, and in turn the mer taught him some of his language: it was mainly made up of sounds and gestures but Skids, being the fast learner that he was, took to them pretty quickly- a shame that he never had the chance to attend a public school, he would've at the top of his classes for sure. 

He felt the mass he was sitting on stir briefly, as the massive mer changed the course of their journey. The scenery around them slowly changed: hills of crumbled and deformed buildings gave way to a forest of skyscrapers looming over all of them like giant concrete pillars. Since the wave hit, putting a stop to all human activity, nature was steadily taking over- vines descended from a top of buildings, patches of seaweed and sea flora were dotting the submerged asphalted streets. 

They watched in awe as schools of brilliant colored tropical fish darted past them- he heard Blue squeal along the lines of, "Sir. Pancake! Look, it's you!" when a familiar looking shark swam past them.  He could vaguely recognize some of the roads and alleyways, now nearly completely covered by corals and anemones, housing a variety of oceanic wildlife.

Despite everything, there was still beauty left in this abandoned world. 

\\\ 

The dark gaping maw leading inside the mall stared right back at them. Having no way to access the lower levels, since they were long lost under the waves, they had to find another way in- one of the walls had luckily given away to the erosion of the water, leaving the perfect entry point for them and their fishy companion. They were all well aware the mer wasn't too keen on leaving them alone for too long without becoming restless, so this was a win-win situation.

As the shadows progressively engulfed them, the smell of dampness and mold welcomed them inside. He felt TC's hand grabbing his right sleeve to catch his attention, as he turned around he saw his brother pointing at the water with his mouth agape. 

What he saw made him inhale quickly in complete surprise- a pool of neon blue light surrounded them from all sides, swaying gently at the rhythm of the mer's movements. 

"...bioluminescent algae- read about them once, but I never thought I would ever see them for myself." He heard TC whisper softly at him. 

"Woah, this is so fucking cool..." Soft murmurs of assent from his siblings filled the silence he left behind, as they all watched the water entranced by the spectacle of lights. 

They were all suddenly woken up from their trance by a brisk movement from their means of transport that almost made all of them topple over into the water. Apparently 'Sides decided he wanted to touch the pretty blue lights, nearly taking a dip for himself if the mer didn't glance over and quickly caught the little kid with one of his huge webbed hands. At least the pest had the decency to look away sheepishly at the mer's silent but admonishing expression. 

Without any other close calls, they made it to what was once the food court- a huge circular dome where the pavement had partially collapsed, leaving behind a slope where dry land and water could meet, the perfect place to finally get down and stretch their legs after hours of swimming around. Trailbreaker reached into his ridiculously big backpack and started passing around a bunch of flashlights- the teen liked to be prepared for anything, even if that meant bringing around some additional weight. 

The moment his feet met the ground he let out a happy sigh- exploring the sunken city was great and all, but nothing could compare to the chance of finally burning all of his residual energy. Damus clapped his hands to get everyone's attention and started his usual spiel before any resource-gathering trip. 

"Alright everyone, you know the drill: six of us are going in pair to explore the building- pick up only things you think will come in hand, leave everything else. Do not take more then you need, we are not the only survivors around, so let's not doom other people only because we felt a little bit greedy today. See something? Scream. Lastly, the brats stay here with Sir. Pancake, while one of us will also remain to keep watch- can I have a drum roll for our lucky winner?" The question was met with an enthusiastic chorus of voices. 

"Aand- Trailbreaker you're up!"

"Awh man- what?" The teen sagged his shoulders as Windcharger smugly patted his arm. 

"Look at the bright side dude: you'll have fish-dad helping you this time." 

"Not helpin' Charger, kudos for trying though..." Trailbreaker's muffled response came from behind his hands, as the other kid only shrugged and joined Skids to prepare for departure. 

In the meantime, Skywarp gingerly hooked his right arm with TC's, leading him towards one of the halls connected to the dome.  From the ceiling stray cables and crumbled pieces of drywall dangled freely, occasionally disturbed by a gentle breeze coming from inside the hallway. He gave himself a few seconds to glance behind his back: the children, in the few minutes they arrived, had apparently started their very own game of tag, skidding away on the wet floor, completely unbothered by what was happening around them. Trailbreaker, accepting his fate, decided to use this time to clean the barrel of his shotgun, while sitting on the floor with his back leaning on the mer's arm.

The creature however was looking apprehensively at them: worry and fret swirled in his blue eyes- they all knew he didn't like to see them leave, but this was necessary. He absentmindedly threw him his best calming smile, hoping to reassure him enough. The mer was briefly taken by surprise before nodding and giving Skywarp a hasty nod. 

 'I trust you.'

"Good luck everyone! If you're not back in an hour we'll come find your sorry asses, so be on time- I'm talking to you Skids!" Damus voice bounced on the walls of the abandoned building. 

"...you get lost one time-" The cut-off whispered replay of his sibling was the last thing he heard before entering the hall with TC in tow. 

\\\

Their wet footfalls was the only noise filling in the utter silence around them.

The bright beams of their flashlights cutting through the thick wall of darkness. Now that he had the chance to look at it up close, he could pinpoint exactly when life had come to a stop between these molded walls: on tiny cafe tables sat long forgotten coffee stained cups, the occasional eerily empty stroller was abandoned haphazardly in the middle of the hallway, still pale mannequins were silent witnesses to the disaster, while purses and toys littered the floors. Moments frozen in time. 

He felt himself shudder, trying to shake off the feeling of wrongness from his shoulders. 

So far they found only a couple of useful things, mainly industrial tape, iron wire and other items from a hardware store they had just raided. All the possibly edible things they dug up have all been either completely or partially covered in mold- all of this moisture made it difficult for things to stay fresh, especially since electricity had been one of the first things they'd lost to the massive wave, completely cutting off all of power to fridges. 

Hopefully the others had been more lucky, he really wasn't looking forward to another overcooked sardine- none of them had always been the greatest cook after all and he doubted Sir. Pancake knew his way around a stove. Great now he was thinking about the mer holding a comically small pan, while wearing a pink frilly apron with the words 'Kiss The Fish' printed on the front- 

He was interrupted mid-giggle by TC's pointy elbow digging into his side- which he was about to comment on before his brother nudged him again, signaling with his light to something on the wall. 

"Storage Room." Read his sibling aloud, with a knowing smile.

"Fucking jackpot, baby!" Skywarp blurred out- ooh the joy he'll feel when they'll be able to shove in their losers sibling faces a box full of protein bars. 

A wide new hallway opened up for them, at the end of it he could discern the top of a pair of rusted shut down automatic stairs. They eagerly hurried down them, impatience and hunger for discovery was eating away at them- before diving waist deep into a pool of freezing water. 

They both startled for a few seconds, and then realization hit. They both forgot the lower levels were entirely flooded, but thankfully water didn't seem too high from what they could see through the darkness- hopefully the floor was built on the same level and didn't suddenly dip under them. The water was way too murky to see what was happening under the surface, and that did nothing to appease the apprehension this place was giving off in waves- he suddenly felt the shivers he shrugged off return in full force. 

"Thunders, not gonna lie, I have a bad feeling about this." His whisper echoed on the walls enclosing them. 

"Yeah... I feel like there's something we're missing." The other confessed, as they slowly trudged forward. "It's been scratching my brain since we passed that cafè...".

"Right?! I feel the same... all that chaos and we only find a bunch of litter on the floor-"

Thundercracker stopped abruptly in his path, making him stop too. 

"Uh- TC, you okay?" He lifted his torch to better look at his brother. 

"...the corpses."

"Oh! Yeah, this was a very busy place, how come we haven't found... any... corpses..."

One of the worst mistakes humanity ever made, was to think that they had any chance at being on top of the food chain. Centuries of time spent spreading and conquering all known continents, had led them to believe that nothing could touch them if they hid behind their big wars and even bigger weapons. However, Hubris is the first deadly sin, condemned to be a human's last. 

From the void, a pair of bulging white eyes stared back at him. A gaping maw full of jagged yellowed teeth, was framed by two lines of receding gums barely attached to the skull. Ivory white plaques covered a shiny metal body underneath, decorating a lizard-like muscular frame, still as stone- like a spring ready to be released. 

They were moving even before his brain could catch up with him. Fight or flight on full force- his main goal was to get away and do it fast.  

Thundercracker quickly followed him, as he felt the large creature pounce towards them. 

Climbing the stairs and reaching the top almost slipping down and falling on his brother. 

They sprinted down the hall- heavy footsteps never too far behind as the beast snapped his monstrous jaws, trying to catch them. 

Blurs of the coffee shop and hardware store passed next to them, as realization hit him once more- they were bringing a human-eating mutant right to their little brothers. 

'See something? Scream.'

And screaming he did. 

His alarmed voice filled the dome as in a moment of distraction his foot slipped on a nearby puddle, leaving him to fall face first unto the hard ground- hopefully his little siblings where not stupid enough to try and come help him. 

He knew this was coming. 

A hot breeze hit the back of his head, as the stench of death reached his nostrils. The heavy weight of a massive clawed paw, pressed him flat on the floor, painfully crushing his chest. He wanted to say he had been brave enough to face his fate, but instead he hid his face inside the crook of his elbow, heaving a last breath verging on a whimper- he only wanted to help his family, and this is how he died, it felt a bit like deja-vu...

Too busy giving thought to his adrenaline infused rants, he didn't immediately feel the crushing weight being suddenly lifted off of him- a giant wall of muscle and pure unbridled fury, tackled the beast into the other side of the room. A low guttural threatening growl woke him up from his stupor and he was on his feet in seconds- the now enraged mer stood between Skywarp and the monster. 

The teen almost didn't recognize him, a completely mirrored image of the usually peaceful creature- what was once a beacon of gentleness, who always moved like he knew he could easily hurt any of them, oh so very careful of his size and strength- now gave away to a terrifying predator, claws and fangs fully on display and ready to use. 

The mutant pounced once again, now his attention taken solely by the mer, who in tow used his massive tail to spring forward and grab the monster by the tail- hastily pulling it towards the water where he could've a clear advantage. 

Too focused on the feral brawl, he didn't hear Damus' muffled voice calling him through the static ringing in his ears.  

"-warp, we need to move! Shit, Skywarp move your ass, goddamnit!" A hand forcefully grabbed his left arm, before he was pulled to his unsteady feet. The front of his shirt was snatched and he felt himself move and duck behind a nearby counter- his eyes never leaving the fight.

If this thing was anything else, now it would be long dead- but unfortunately genetics were on its side. The ivory armor covering its body made for an impenetrable defense- meaning, it was not only built to hunt things smaller than itself, but also to wear out bigger predators and use twist their tiredness on them to deal the final blow. 

"...he's not going to make it." 

"Uh? What are you talking ab-?" 

"He'll lose- WE HAVE TO HELP HIM!"

A still out-of-breath Thundercracker slowly approached him with his hands held up, like he was placating a wild animal and not his own brother. 

"Warp, please be reasonable- What chance do we have against that thing? Bullets will not work and we can't risk hitting our only ally against it, we shou-"

"What? Run? I'm not going to save my ass while someone else is going to die- you're not making me give him the Smokey treatment, no chance in hell." 

Only the sound of the background fight remained, as a mournful silence descended upon them. That name was bound to stir flashes of awful memories in all of them- the darkest times since the beginning of their broken little family. Their missing piece, forever lost. 

"...what's the plan?" The trembling voice of their youngest broke the silence. 

Skywarp drew in a ragged breath as he blurred out their only chance for all of them to get out of this alive. 

"Metal! The- that thing's body is made of metal underneath, if we can find a way to electrocute it, its own body is going to act as a super-conduct and fry it's organs from the inside out." 

"Me and 'Charger found a small generator not too far from here, I think we can use it," Skid's chimed in from the back of their little huddle, "we attach some cables on it and pinch that thing- than boom fried fish." 

With a plan in mind they all moved like a bunch of frenzied rats. Windcharger and Skids ran to fetch the generator, while Soundwave followed them in case they needed to jump-start it. The kids were ordered to stay put and not engage, as the others watched the fight, waiting for their time to strike. 

But as they took in every detail of what was happening, it was clear they had run out of time. The mer was clearly using the last of his energies to just keep the thing still- deep bleeding wounds littered his frame, one of his eyes was closed off by a cut that run at the center of his face, as he gasped for breath- eye dazed and a shaky pupil stared at his enemy. 

He registered his siblings returning with the small generator, but he was quick to snatch the cables attached to it from Soundwaves' hands. 

"We don't have time- I'm going to do something crazy, but it'll be fine!" He cried out, ignoring his siblings' shouted protests- metal was not the only super-conduct present in the dome. 

As he skidded to a stop and knelt near the water, he felt time slow down. He watched as the mutant freed itself and in a few seconds snapped its mouth on the mer's side, trying to rip off a large chunk of meat. The mer let out a haunting pain-filled cry, as he desperately used his last energies to claw at the mutants' skull, in hopes of getting it to let go. 

Skywarp had to act now.

Before he plucked the sparkling cables into the pool, he glanced once more not expecting to lock eye with the blue one of the mer- illuminated by the blue hue of the algae, covered in gaping wounds and suffering immense pain, was smiling at him- one of those familial calming smiles that he became used to on a daily basis, since their crazy companionship began. 

'I trust you.'

Those same eyes that were looking at him with only fondness, suddenly became bloodshot as an immense wave of energy traveled through his frame in a matter of seconds. Skywarp felt his, now free, hands tremble with adrenaline as they all watched their guardian being electrocuted- and with him the beast.

What had been merely moments, felt like hours. 

They won. 

The limp body of the beast slowly sunk into the depths dragged by it's own heavy body, as the victor stood tall in the middle of the dome. Water fell from his broad back in droplets, a deep purple hue cloaked him from underneath- the algae, who soon changed color after being hit by the wave of electricity. The mer red blood-shot eye never left his gaze as he held the other half of his face, covering his wounded eye with a clawed hand.

Skywarp and his brothers watched as their guardian's form eventually staggered and swayed, until his worn body hit the shore with a shuddering thud. A keening sound left the mer's mouth as his body convulsed a couple of times, before finally settling into a fetal position. 

A small blur rounded the counter he left behind his shoulders- Blue sprinted towards the now still body of the mer, halting himself near his head before hugging it as best as he could. 

"Get up... please, you have to get up- I don't want to leave you here," A sob escaped the little kid as he gently pushed at the mer's cheek, "please Sir.Panca- Dad, get up..."

Slowly they all began to huddle around the still-breathing, even if ragged, body of their guardian- the mer shuddered as he gently lifted his head to nudge soothingly at his youngest. He looked over all of them, as if to assure himself that nobody was injured, until he locked eyes with Skywarp once again. The mer cooed, lifting his hand to beckon him to come closer. 

The teen got up on unsteady legs and made his way toward his guardian, collapsing into the crook of his massive neck. As a clawed hand started caressing his back, he found it so difficult to hold in his tears. 

"I'm sorry- this is all my fault," he wailed, "and now you're hurt and- and I did this to you... when you've been nothing but gentle and patient with us from the beginning... some fucking friend I am." 

"...hurt?" He was taken by surprise as the mer spoke to him- a thick warped accented voice. 

"What? No, you big dummie- I'm not hurt..." 

His guardian had the gull to smile down at him- the huge fucking sap. He couldn't help but smile in tow as he felt Bluestreak join their little hug, and settle himself down to nap away the residual adrenaline. 

He watched as his siblings sat all around them- weapons in hand, standing on guard and silently daring anything or anyone to attack their guardian. 

Yeah, he was not ready for this to end just yet.

[ofbatsandballads]

have a little Jason drabble inspired by me going to my work bestie’s bachelorette party tonight. yes, yes I did imagine all this while getting ready and what about it? also consider this a part of my jason gets the girl series.

Jason Todd is a worrier. You knew that the very first night you met him when he automatically assumed that you, a woman living alone and wearing fuzzy pajamas, would be a danger to him. You know that now by his incessant questions that he’s been pelting at you for the past hour.

“You’ll keep in contact with me, right?” he asks from the other side of the shower curtain.

“Of course, Jay,” you reply as you twist like a contortionist while shaving your legs.

“I know it’s a bachelorette party, but please don’t drink so much that you don’t know what’s goin’ on around you, baby,” he says, voice raised so you can hear him over your hair dryer.

“I know, Jay. I’ve not forgotten where we live!” you shout back as reassuringly as you can.

“You sure I can’t convince ya to stay here with me?” he asks, only half joking, as you flip through the hangers in your shared closet looking for what to wear.

“You’re making a very convincing argument,” you concede as he kisses down your neck. “But no. Alas, I cannot be a shitty friend.”

“Fine. But at least wear somethin’ that goes with the jacket I got you,” he grumbles.

You laugh under your breath. This man. He’s such a worry wart. But you get it. Jason goes out every night into the belly of the beast, sees the worst of the worst. He knows what happens to vulnerable young women in this city, and you can’t blame him for his overprotective nature. So if wearing the tan leather jacket, a smaller replica of the one he wears as Red Hood, that has a tracker sewn into the interior is what he needs to ease his anxious mind, you’ll do it without complaint.

“It’s a gorgeous jacket, Jaybear. It goes with everything,” you say as you scratch soothingly at his scalp.

“You know where you’ll be tonight?” he asks from the foot of your bed, watching you as you put on your makeup.

“Uh huh. We’re not going to any bars or clubs or anything like that. Maid of honor just rented a penthouse in the Diamond District. We’ll probably spend the night eating pizza and drinking cocktails,” you answer as you try not to stab yourself in the eye with your mascara wand.

Jason makes a little grunt of agreement. You idly think that he sounds just like his dad, but you also don’t say that because you’re not a complete idiot. Also because you once told Jason he looked like Bruce and how miraculous that was since he was adopted, and he spent the next three days mumbling 'don't look anythin’ like the old man’ every time he glanced in a mirror.

You glance behind you in the vanity mirror to see the love of your life. His expression tugs your heartstrings. He looks so…melancholy. Emotions are storming in his sea green eyes and all you want is to ease his worries. You lay down your makeup brush and pad over to him, settling down in his lap. His hands come up automatically to rest on your hips, thumbs stroking over the softness.

“What’s wrong, angel?” you whisper, smoothing out the creases between his furrowed eyebrows with the tips of your fingers.

“I don’t—” he stops abruptly, tries to find the words he needs. “I’m not tryin’ to be overbearing. Don’t wanna be one of those guys that tells their girl what to do.”

He takes a breath and you stay silent. He has to get this out and you’ll wait as long as it takes.

“I just…worry. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I can’t lose you. I can’t,” and his voice breaks like stained glass. “I wouldn’t survive it. I know this is fuckin’ stupid. Me actin’ like this over a bachelorette party but I just…I can’t stop thinkin’ about all the things that could happen.”

Oh. Oh, your sweet, loving, heaven sent boyfriend. You know his past haunts him, that this city haunts him. You wish you could take all his worries away and wrap him in a nice warm blanket. You’d tuck him away from the world, keep him safe and happy and cared for all his days if you could.

“Jason, look at me,” you tilt his head up with your fingers under his jaw. “I promise you I will do everything in my power to be as safe as possible. I won’t drink irresponsibly. I’ll make sure to text you if anything, and I mean anything, starts to get weird. It won’t, but if it did you would be on speed dial. And trust me, angel, I have no intentions of staying the night.”

You don’t. Good friend or not, you can’t sleep well if you’re not wrapped in the strong arms of the man beneath you.

“So I expect you to be waiting on that tricked out bike of yours to pick me up,” you beam at him, run your hand through his hair because you know it makes him melt into your touch.

“I’ll be waitin’ for you,” he says, a solemn promise that extends far beyond tonight.

“Good. Now that being said, I will be bringing home all the dick decorations because I wanna plant them in your brother’s apartment. Just to fuck with him,” you giggle.

Jason lights up for the first time tonight. His green eyes gleam with mischief and adoration.

“Oh, you are my fuckin’ soulmate, baby. I’ll help you break in.”

[clockwayswrites]

Tucker/Tim, Yellow, Solstice, Lily @atomicsheepscientist

“Congratulations, Mr. Foley,” Lucius said as he closed the cover on his tablet. “You’ll see the final deposit in your account by the end of the day. Are you sure I can’t convince you to come work for us full time?”

“While I’m still incredibly flattered by the offer, my answer still is ‘not yet’,” Tucker Foley said with a smile. It made the faint green in his hazel eyes stand out all the more.

Not that Tim noticed.

Not that Tim had been noticing over the last eight months that he had been corresponding with Tucker on the project.

“Well,” Lucius said as he stood. (Tim and Tucker followed suit.) “if that changes from not yet to why not, you have my number.”

Tucker reached across the table and offered his hand, which Lucius shook easily. “And I’ll be sure to call if I can. Thank you, really, for this opportunity. I’ve enjoyed the challenge immensely.”

“I could tell. Will you see him out, Mr. Wayne?”

“Of course, Lucius,” Tim said. He knew Lucius would be eager to start planning the manufacturing. And he didn’t mind spending more time with Tucker.

Soon he wouldn’t be able to.

“So,” Tucker said as he turned towards Tim, “I officially no longer work for WE?”

Tim gave a little nod. “As soon as you go past security, your key card will be disabled. Though you’re welcome to keep it as a souvenir.”

“Oh I definitely will,” Tucker said. “This was hands down the most amazing job I’ve had.”

“Yet you said no to our job offer,” Tim pointed out with a little smirk.

Tucker grinned sheepishly and gave a little shrug. It was hard to see on his warm brown skin, but Tim thought Tucker might have been blushing.

“I have a few obligations lined up that I have to take care of first,” Tucker explained, “and one thing I want to do that I really hope goes well.”

“Oh?” Tim couldn’t help but ask. “And what’s that?”

“Well, since I’m not longer under contract with WE, I figured that I needed to at least try my luck.” He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and met Tim’s eyes. “I get that this might be presumptuous, but I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you over these months. Now that I’m out of under the thumb of HR… any chance that if I ask you out on a date, you’d say yes?”

Tim felt like he had gone up the stairs and thought there was one more step then their actually was. “I mean, you haven’t actually asked yet.”

Tucker laughed and Tim couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hey Tim, want to go out with me? I heard there’s a really cool photography exhibition in town for this cute guy I know.”

A little bubble of warmth formed in Tim’s chest that Tucker had listened to his blabbering. “I’d love to.”

Tucker's answering smile was almost blinding.

[thewritingrowlet]

The Road Back to You, ft. tripleS Lee Jiwoo

tags: creampie, (light) daddy kink, rekindled love

length: almost 6k words

author's note: well, here it is: one of the fics that was stuck in the WIP dungeon—have at it, you.

-

“The Cavendish Group says—oh my God, who is it?”

You look at your buzzing phone; Jiwoo’s mother is calling you. You take a few deep breaths to clear your mind before picking up the call.

“Good afternoon, this is Shin Hyunwoo,” you greet her.

“Hi, son—have you been well?”

“Yes, I have, madam. Is there anything I can help you with?”

The woman on the other side pauses for what feels like an eternity.

“It’s about Jiwoo,” she pauses again, “she’s… been quite ill for the past two weeks, and I thought maybe you should pay her a visit.”

Your heart races: you haven’t talked to Jiwoo for almost a year now ever since she walked out your door that one night, and the prospect of seeing the cause of your heartbreak is rather… unsettling.

“I know you’re busy, but if you have time, please consider visiting her.” You can hear the sincerity in her voice, and it’s getting difficult to say no. Your gaze is locked on the large monitor in front of you as you thoughtfully consider her mother’s words. Eventually, with a heavy sigh, you agree to see Jiwoo at her place.

“I’ll tell her you’ll be coming after you get off work.” You can hear the joy in her voice, and it’s getting difficult to calm your racing heart. Your gaze shifts to the window next to you, and reflected on its surface is your smiling face. Eventually, with a chuckle, you admit to yourself that you are indeed excited to see Jiwoo at her place.

-

You take exactly 6 deep breaths before knocking on Jiwoo’s apartment door. Initially, no answer is heard from the other side, but as you prepare to knock again, the door suddenly shifts.

“O-oppa, you’re… actually here…”

You offer her a tentative smile, unable to tell whether she’s excited to see you or not.

“Yes, I am—erm, your mother asked if I could visit you, so…” You trail off, hoping that Jiwoo will catch on. A smile of similar nature stretches over her face. “Please get inside, oppa.”

Jiwoo invites you to sit on the sofa with her, and after you’re seated, she asks for permission to rest her head on your shoulder for “old times sake.” With a smile on her face, you grant her that permission. “Thank you,” she mutters softly as she leans against you. Your eyebrows furrow when you feel her hot temple on your skin. “You’re that sick, baby?” Jiwoo pretends to have missed the endearment, biting her lower lip to stop herself from blushing. “Yes, oppa; it’s been pretty bad.”

You offer Jiwoo to rest her head on your thighs, and without saying a word, she takes you up on it. Not only that, but she also guides your hand towards her forehead. “Hm, hot,” you blurt. She nods slightly. “My head hurts too,” she complains, sighing deeply at the end. You bite your tongue slightly as you think whether you want to ask her this question in your head. “Ah, screw it.” The suddenness confuses Jiwoo. “Screw what, oppa?”

“Can I take you to the bedroom, baby?”

Jiwoo’s blinks rapidly; she hasn’t heard you say such a sentence in a long while, and now, merely minutes after your return, she hears it again, thus causing her cheeks to turn pink.

“Y-yes, oppa; p-please take me to the bedroom.”

Jiwoo nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck as you’re lifting her bridal-style to her room. “Mm, you still smell the same,” she comments. You chuckle a little. “I just keep buying the same perfume and cologne,” you say. She nods against your skin. “Don’t ever change them, please; I love the smell of you, oppa.” Your eyebrows rise; does Jiwoo realize she’s saying all this like she was still your girlfriend?

“Ah, whatever—not the time to think about it.”

You carefully lower Jiwoo onto her bed, and that is when she tightens her arms around your neck. “Don’t leave me—please, not again,” she begs. You sigh deeply. “What do you mean not again, Jiwoo-yah?” She looks at you in the eyes. “You know what I mean, oppa, so please don’t leave me, not when I need you most.” You sigh again. “You were the one who broke us up, sweetheart; I was just respecting your decision.”

Tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she feels the weight of regret of the decision that led to her stepping out of your door and, in turn, your life. “I-I was… reckless, to say the least—I-I’ve now realized that I can’t leave without you.” You stay silent, indirectly asking her to keep talking. “I’m so, so sorry for leaving you, oppa,” her eyes are shiny with unshed tears, “I should’ve been more patient, more understanding…”

It warms your heart that Jiwoo understands the significance of her decision to leave the relationship and is welcoming about your return. Before guilt overwhelms her, you throw her a lifebuoy in the form of a soothing touch of hand to her forehead. “Sweetheart, I think we’ve both learned our lessons—for now, let’s just focus on recovering.” She smiles slightly. “Please join me in bed, oppa.”

You slide onto the bed as she asks, spooning her from behind just like how you used to. “This is… so nice,” she sighs, seemingly in relief, “thank you for making time for me, oppa; I know you’re busy and all that.” You give her a soft peck to the back of her head. “You have a special place in my heart and mind, Jiwoo-yah—not to mention that your mom was quite good at persuasion.” Jiwoo giggles. “A chip of the old block, or something like that.”

-

Time ticks by as you spend a few hours spooning the sick woman, and now that your eyes are open again, you see that it’s quite dark outside the window.

“Jiwoo-yah,” you whisper softly, “I think we should find something to eat.” Jiwoo stretches languidly as she gets herself together. “What time is it?” You look at your watch. “Almost 9 p.m.” She exhales deeply. “Can we have food sent here, because I don’t feel like going out.” You ask what she wants to have. “Anything that’s warm like you.” Your heart jumps. “Warm like me, you say?” She nods with a smile. “Warm like you, oppa—that’s what I need right now.”

You quickly order some noodle soup for both of you. “Food will be here in around 20 minutes, sweetie, so please hang on.” Jiwoo places a hand on yours. “Thank you, oppa; I appreciate it.” Once again, you give her a peck to the back of her head. “The pleasure is mine, sweetie—thank you for welcoming me again.” She sighs deeply. “Can’t we just pretend like we never broke up?” Well, isn’t that a good question. “I don’t know, honestly. I mean we haven’t seen each other for almost a year.”

You spend the time cuddling the sick woman whose (literal) hotness gradually becoming a source of concern. Thankfully, however, you’ve received notification that the food has been delivered to her door, which means that she’ll soon be able to take her medicines and get some rest.

Jiwoo reluctantly lets you go from the embrace. “Come back quickly, oppa,” she begs, her voice barely above a whisper. You give her a nod before stepping out of the bedroom to get the food from the door. You prepare the noodle soup for her, opening the bowl-like container and putting a spoon in it.

You help Jiwoo sit and lean against the headboard to support her weak frame. “May I feed you?” She nods with a faint pink on her cheeks. You take a spoonful of only the soup for her to taste. “Is that good?” Jiwoo sighs. “Not as good as expected, but that’s probably because I’m ill.”

You tend to Jiwoo with utmost patient, feeding her carefully until she finishes her food—or not; she’s weakly pushing your hand away from her lips. “That’s enough food,” she says. It’s unfortunate that she’s calling it quit now that there’s only two spoonsful of noodle soup left. “Baby, finish it, please?” She turns her face away from you, signaling that she really doesn’t want it. “Okay, if you say so.”

You place the unfinished food on the bedside table and ask where her medicines are. “I don’t want them too.” You sigh. “Baby, please, I just want to help.” Realizing that she can’t counter-argue, Jiwoo points at the drawer of the bedside table. When you open it, you notice that she has only taken her medications twice. “You’ve been skipping your meds, baby?” Jiwoo doesn’t answer your question, and that is when you sigh for the nth time.

You carefully turn her face towards you. “Baby, what’s happening right now—you’ve been ill for almost two weeks, but you haven’t been taking your medicines.” A tear flows out onto her cheek. “I-I’m sorry, b-but I just… I haven’t been feeling so well recently, if you know what I’m saying.” You hesitantly reach to pet her head. “Will you please cooperate for now? I’ll walk out of your life again when you’ve gotten better.”

Jiwoo breaks down into tears. “A-are you listening to yourself, oppa? Y-you’re saying that you’ll leave me again—are you fucking serious?” You wipe her tears with your thumb. “Baby, that’s not what I was trying to say; I’m just saying that I need you to work with me so that you can fully recover.” She closes her eyes tightly before looking back at you. “A-alright, I-I’ll… I’ll cooperate—j-just promise that you won’t leave me after this.” You offer her some assurance that you’ll stay, and that is when Jiwoo signals that she’s willing to take her medicines.

You prepare her capsules and pills along with a glass of water. “Ready when you are, baby.” Jiwoo takes the medicines from your hands and quickly swallows them. “Are you happy now?” You shake your head. “I won’t be happy until you’re healthy again.” She chuckles. “Hard to please, as always,” she snarks. A flicker of hurt crosses your features, but you quickly shake it off; right now, Jiwoo’s health is more important than your feelings.

Jiwoo moves to lie down, facing away from you dismissingly. “I’ll be at the living room if you need me,” you say. You give her some soft pats on the thigh as you make to leave to give her space to rest. You stop at the door, hoping that she’ll call you to cuddle her to sleep, but it doesn’t look like she wants it. “Yeah, okay,” you mutter as you close the door behind you.

You take a few deep breaths after sinking your butt into the fluffy cushions of the sofa. “Jiwoo has taken her meds and is sleeping right now,” you send a text to her mother, notifying her of Jiwoo’s current condition. “Thank you, son,” she replies soon after, and with it, you close your eyes to get a taste of peace.

Just minutes into your slumber, you feel someone wrapping their arms around you from behind while placing their chin on the top of your head. “Hm? Are you okay, sweetie?” “No,” she answers weakly. “Cuddle, please?” You collect yourself and stand up from the sofa. “I’m sorry, I just thought maybe you needed some space.” Jiwoo bites her lip in uncertainty. “I thought so too, but I think it’d be better if you’re with me.”

You follow her back to the bedroom, lying down square on your back while Jiwoo puts her head on your chest. “I’m sorry for being difficult, oppa; you’re here to help, but I’m not playing along.” You pet her head softly while offering some assurance, denying her attempt at guilt-tripping herself. “I wish… we hadn’t broken up…” she trails off as she drifts to sleep.

-

-

Subtle taps on your stomach stir you awake, and through your half-open eyes, you see Jiwoo sitting in bed next to you with a bottle (that’s more akin to a jerrycan) in her hands. “Can I help you?” She nods as she brings the bottle closer to you. “Can you, erm, get me some water, please?” You rub your eyes to wake up and take the bottle from her. “Sure, baby.”

You arrive at the kitchen where the dispenser is—wait, what is that hanging on the fridge?

You free the folded paper from the magnet and read the content, noticing the frequent strikethroughs right away.

“Dear ex-boyfriend,” the letter starts. "Thank you for making the time to come here and take care of me. It means a lot to me that you still care about me, and I don’t want to sound too hopeful, but I wish we can start over from square one.”

“So, can we start again?” Her voice makes you jump. “Answer me, oppa; can we start again? Will you give me another chance?" You turn to her with a sigh. “Let’s… focus on getting better for now.” Your indecisive answer disappoints Jiwoo, her eyes shining with unshed tears of unspoken dismay. “Sure, if you say so…” she trails off as she enters the bedroom again with slouched shoulders.

When you return to the bedroom, you find her curled up in bed, hugging her knees. “Jiwoo-yah, your water,” you say, hoping that she’ll get out of that position. “I’m not thirsty,” she replies, her voice barely audible. You set the filled bottle on the bedside table. “Well, it’s here if you need it.”

Your hand lingered on the bottle just a second too long, and Jiwoo is quick to find your wrist, gripping it weakly. “Stay,” she begs, “I don’t want to be alone again.” It’s disheartening to see the usually cheerful girl like this. “Alright, I’ll be in bed with you.”

Jiwoo tangles her long limbs around your body to keep you close. Not only that, but she also puts her head on your chest. “Your heart is racing,” she comments. You chuckle. “So is my mind.” She looks up at you with hopeful eyes. “I hope you’re thinking about getting back together.” You exhale deeply. “Well, I am, actually.” Jiwoo is getting excited. “So?” You take a deep breath before replying.

“Well, I think… I think I’m falling for you again.”

Jiwoo gathers her strength and moves to straddle your lap, a mysterious grin spreading across her features. “Why are you looking at me like that, baby?” She chuckles. “I want to make love to celebrate getting back together.” Blood rushes towards your cock at her words, but you don’t give into lust as you would’ve in the past. “Baby, you’re still sick—weren’t you complaining about a headache earlier?” She shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she deflects.

Jiwoo’s grin falters when she gets the signal from your stern expression. “Ah, well, I suppose I should get better first.” She then proceeds to let her torso rest on yours. “Thank you, oppa,” she mutters. You press your lips against her temple. “We will have time for celebrations, baby—not now, though.”

-

When you wake up the following morning, Jiwoo’s limbs are still entangled with yours as she sleeps oh-so-peacefully with her mouth slightly open. You carefully free yourself from the embrace, not wanting to disturb her slumber any further, but despite that, Jiwoo wakes up.

“Going somewhere?” she asks, her voice hoarse. “I have to go to work; we’re trying to strike a deal with Covington.” Jiwoo furrows her eyebrows. “Covington? The same Covington from years ago?” You nod. “The one and only.” Jiwoo offers you a supportive smile. “Go get them, then, tiger—make yourself rich.” You chuckle. “Thanks, baby.”

Jiwoo’s smile begins to disappear as she watches you put on your jacket and walk out of the bedroom. “I miss you already, oppa,” she mutters, too quiet to reach your ears. She sighs deeply when she hears your car driving away. “See you later, I guess.”

Jiwoo spends some more time rolling around in bed, and at one point, she wonders if she could pretend like her illness is coming back just so she would have a chance to call you back home. As she scrolls down on her contact list, however, she decides against it; Jiwoo remembers that you’re trying to strike a deal with Covington.

The unhappy-but-understanding Jiwoo eventually gathers her will to leave the bed, stretching around and yawning as she gets herself together. She walks over to the mirror to take a look at herself; her hair is a mess, her lips are anything but red in color, and her eyes are, well, red.

“Whatever”, she shrugs, “still good enough for him.”

Jiwoo proceeds to make her way to the bathroom for a quick soap-less shower before heading towards the living room to entertain herself while you’re away doing God-knows-what. She picks up her handheld console to play the new game she bought some days ago, but she puts it down after a few minutes of gameplay; the bright and flashing lights are proving to be difficult to bear in sickness.

Jiwoo lies flat on the sofa, her mind wandering beyond the walls of her apartment. “What are you doing, oppa, and when are you coming back,” she wonders. A ding from the door makes her jump; could it be you coming back early to surprise her?

Jiwoo rushes to look through the peeping hole in the door, and excitement instantly goes away because it’s not you who’s at the door, but rather a food delivery guy. She puts on a face that screams “I’m sick” and opens the door to accept the food. “A delivery for Mrs. Shin,” the guy says as he brings the bag closer to her. Jiwoo blushes at the reference, but before her mind scrambles even further, she quickly grabs the bag from him. “H-has m-my husband tipped you?” The guy nods with a smile on his face. “Your husband was very generous with the tip, actually.” Jiwoo smiles in pride. “That’s… how he usually is.”

Jiwoo quickly sends the delivery guy on his way, closing and locking the door behind her before high stepping towards the sofa while giggling, the discomfort of illness forgotten for a moment. She pulls out the contents of the bag, which turns out to be a large box of pizza and a side of snacks from a place named Primo, her old favorite.

Jiwoo’s forehead furrows when she notices a folded piece of paper stuck on the cover of the pizza box. “What is this,” she wonders as she unfolds it.

“Hi, baby,

I’m sorry for leaving you alone this morning, but I promise I will come back as soon as possible. That is, if you’d let me come back.

Meanwhile, please enjoy the pizza and garlic bread. I asked for extra tartar sauce because I know how much you like Primo’s tartar. By the way, feel free to finish it all.”

With a smile on her face, Jiwoo presses the letter against her chest, both touched and entertained by the gesture. “Come back to me soon, oppa; I can’t stand being away from you for too long.” She puts down the letter on the table and shifts her attention to the 8 slices of delight and deliciousness in front of her.

One slice after another enters her mouth and towards her belly, and before she knows it, there’s only one slice of pizza left while the box of garlic bread hasn’t been touched at all. “I’m keeping you for later,” she says.

-

Another ding is heard from the door, and this time, she’s certain that it’s you instead of another delivery guy, considering the current time.

Jiwoo squeals when she sees you through the peephole, and in a moment of excitement, she happens to incorrectly enter the code of the door. “Oh, are you serious right now, Lee Jiwoo,” she’s annoyed at herself, “come on, come on—there we go.”

Jiwoo greets you with arms wide open, no longer showing signs of weakness from the illness, and you’re quick to fill the space in her embrace. “Oppa, welcome home!” You give her a peck to the temple. “Thank you for welcoming me back.” She returns the peck, but it lands on your lips instead. “You’re always welcome here—after all, we’re getting back together.”

Jiwoo pulls away from the embrace momentarily and looks at you in the eyes. “Wait, we’re getting back together, right?” You chuckle. “Only if you want to; I won’t force you into giving me another chance.” She takes the turn to chuckle. “You don’t have to force me; I’m already falling for you for the second time.”

Jiwoo drags you towards the sofa, the box of reheated garlic bread waiting on a table in front of it. “I finished the pizza right away, oppa, but I saved this for you.” Her cute joyfulness makes it irresistible to not smile. “Thanks, but can I ask you something first, baby?” She nods. “Ask away, oppa.”

“You didn’t forget your meds, did you?”

Jiwoo’s gaze strays away from yours at the realization that she forgot to take her medicine twice today. “I-I forgot, oppa…” she trails off, no longer as joyful as earlier. “You forgot, huh?” She gulps to swallow the anxiety that’s stuck in her throat. “Y-yes, oppa; I-I forgot, a-and I’m sorry.”

You get on your knees in front of her. “What could you possibly have been doing that made you forget about your meds, hm?” Jiwoo’s chin gets stuck to her chest as tears begin spilling out. “O-oppa, p-please don’t get angry.” You sigh. “I’m not angry, sweetheart—I’m a bit disappointed, though.”

You ignore Jiwoo’s sobs momentarily to get the bag of medicine from the bedroom, and with it in hand, you kneel in front of her again. “Take them, please,” you say, placing the bag on her thighs. She holds the bag tightly, still unable to calm herself down from getting the brunt of your stern attitude.

You carefully reach for her cheeks, wiping her tears with your thumbs. “Baby, you know I mean well, right? I just want to help you recover as quickly as possible.” Jiwoo sniffles. “B-but you’re still as s-scary as you used to be, oppa.” You sigh again, and you can feel anger dissipating from your mind. “I’m sorry, baby; I didn’t mean it like that.” Jiwoo suddenly hugs you tightly. “Leave your businessman charade at the door; I-I need my boyfriend right now,” she begs. You nod. “Of course, baby.”

You lift Jiwoo on one shoulder—while your free hand grabs the box of garlic bread—and carry her towards the bedroom. You then lower her onto the bed, positioning her to sit right on the edge of it. “Can I entertain you with some garlic bread, baby?” She nods feebly. You guide a piece of bread towards her lips while using your other hand to pet her head tenderly, and Jiwoo rests her head against your shoulder as she munches.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart; I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” Jiwoo hums. “I know you meant well, but there’s something about that stern look of yours that always scares me shitless.” You chuckle a bit. “Yeah, anyway,” you stand up and hand her the bag of medicine, “I want to see you take these meds right now.” Jiwoo does as you demand and takes her pills together with one swig of water from the glass you’ve provided. “Satisfied, my lord?” You scoff. “Yes, I am.”

“Now,” Jiwoo’s voice drops to a sultry tone, “don’t you think I deserve a reward for being such a good girl?” You exhale deeply. “A reward, you say—what kind of reward are you seeking, my sweet?” Jiwoo palms your crotch with one hand. “One that will make me scream until I lose my voice.” She smirks when she notices the way you’re getting hard under her touch.

“Please, daddy.”

Jiwoo beams when your suit jacket falls off your shoulders, going as far as biting her lip—quite sexy, admittedly. She follows your hands as they undo the buttons of your shirt from the top. She halts your movements when your fingers land on your belt. “That’s mine, daddy.” She unlatches your belt and swiftly zip down your trousers.

“Daddy,” she looks up at you with big eyes, “may I…?” Your permission comes in the form of a wordless nod, and that is when Jiwoo yanks your boxers downwards. Her jaw drops when your sizeable and hard cock is laid bare right before her eyes. “I’ve missed you, daddy.” You scoff. “Me or my dick?” Still enamored with your cock, Jiwoo answers, “Yes.”

You gently push Jiwoo backwards, thus making her land on her back on the soft mattress. Jiwoo invites you to touch her further by parting her legs as wide as she can, and you take this most welcome opportunity by placing a finger on her nub. “Oh, fuck.” Jiwoo arches her back at the first contact. “More, please,” she begs. You continue your teasing ministrations for some time, making Jiwoo’s moans become louder.

“Oh, I’m so close, daddy—God, how am I so close already?” With a smirk on your face, you remove your finger from her nub. Jiwoo screams in agony as orgasm eludes her. “No, no, no, please,” she begs tearily, “w-why did you do that, daddy? H-how could you be so mean to me?” You chuckle. “I’m the mean one? Remind me, who decided to break us up?” Jiwoo slams her head onto the pillow in frustration. “I-it was me, daddy; I-I was so selfish and immature.”

Jiwoo moves to sit and guides your hand towards her cheek. “If you want to slap me, oppa, then slap me.” She tenses as you lift your hand, seemingly to prepare to slap her, but she quickly relaxes again when your touch is a soft one. “You know I would never harm you like that.”

Jiwoo rubs against your hand like a cat. “That doesn’t change the fact that it hurt so bad, though,” you say. She nods. “I understand—hell, I still ask myself as to why I decided to leave.” You smile a little, hiding the pain behind a simple charade. “Well, you said you were looking for something I didn’t have.” Jiwoo looks up at you with shiny eyes. “I’ve learned that the safety and comfort you provided were second to none—you were the right person who came at the wrong time.”

For some reason, her declaration sends shiver down your spine; you swear you’ve heard this somewhere before.

“So, what convinced you to take another chance to be with me, baby?” A tear escapes Jiwoo’s eyes. “I long for the warmth and love that only you can provide, my love,” she answers, her voice thick with emotions. “And I just—”

Before she can finish, you crash your lips into hers, thus interrupting her speech. “I love you, Lee Jiwoo; I love you so, so much.” Jiwoo nods as more tears come out of her eyes. “I-I love you too—t-thank you for giving me another chance.”

Jiwoo suddenly pulls you onto the bed with her. “Hold me close, oppa,” she begs, and you comply right away. She lets out whimpers into your chest, showing vulnerability like she would in the past.

“I don’t know if this will help make you feel better, but I never saw anyone when you were away from me,” you confess. Jiwoo looks up at you. “R-really? Y-you kept yourself, erm, clean?” You nod at her question, and that is when she hugs you more tightly than earlier. “You knew we’d get back together, didn’t you, oppa?” You give her a peck on the top of her head. “I guess I did.”

After crying to her heart’s content, Jiwoo pulls away from your embrace. “Now, where were we before you made me cry, oppa?” You chuckle. “Well, I denied your orgasm,” you say. Jiwoo reaches for your arm, grazing it with the tip of her fingers. “Would you be so kind as to let me have an orgasm, daddy?”

“Only if you’ll ride me.”

Jiwoo agrees to your term, straddling your lap without being told twice. “You know, daddy,” she licks her bottom lip, “I didn’t see anyone when you were away from me either.” She bends down until her mouth is next to your ear. “It will feel like you’re popping my cherry again, daddy.”

Your grip on her hips fastens at the prospect of feeling her tight walls around your cock. “Excited, aren’t you, daddy? I know I am—after all, I haven’t felt your glorious cock in so long.” You pinch her waist. “Just get on with it already, hm?” Jiwoo chuckles. “What daddy wants, daddy gets.”

Jiwoo guides you towards her entrance and slowly impales herself on your shaft. “Oh, fuck, I feel like a virgin again.” She moves her hips up and down along your length at a relaxed pace, taking her time to get reintroduced to your size. “Fuck, daddy,” she moans, “fuck, you’re… stronger than before.” You groan heavily at the feeling of being gripped by her tight walls. “And you’re… tighter than before.” Jiwoo’s aroused face is decorated with a satisfied grin. “All for you, daddy.”

After getting used to your shaft, Jiwoo picks up the pace, and it’s getting harder to ignore her cute, bouncing tits. You pull her closer towards you so your lips can reach them. Jiwoo gasps loudly when you nibble her nipple. “Oh, yes, daddy; suck it, nibble it, bite it—do anything you want, daddy.” With her urge in the back of your mind, you increase the stimulation on her tits; you take turns putting each nipple in your mouth to make sure one doesn’t get jealous of the other.

While you’re busy playing with her tits, Jiwoo is busy riding your shaft while moaning loudly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—oh, I’m so close already,” she announces. With an ear-piercing scream (that you’re certain can be heard by her neighbors), Jiwoo comes undone on your lap. In her weak state, she crashes into you, panting so heavily because of the intensity of her orgasm. “I… I’ve missed you, daddy—I’ve missed us.” You grit your teeth as her silky walls spasm wildly around your shaft, as if trying to make you blow inside her. “I-I’ve missed you too, baby,” you reply amidst the heavy pants.

After getting down from the high of orgasm, Jiwoo pulls away slightly; her hair is a mess, her eyes are shiny, but her smile is sweet and soft as always. “Oppa, I want…” she trails off as she tries to string together some words. Your eyebrows rise, urging her to continue. “I don’t know,” she sighs, “I just… I want to be tied to you, if that makes sense.” You think about the meaning of her words. “You want something more serious, baby?” She nods, and your brain comes up with an idea.

“Well, in that case, will you marry me, Lee Jiwoo?”

Your sudden question has her in tears.

“Yes, oppa—a million times yes!” She crashes into you for a tight hug. “I will marry you in this life, the next, and the one after that.” Her answer is as good as you hope, making you shed tears of your own. “I will truly be yours, oppa; your queen, your friend, your everything.” You nod, your cheek rubbing against hers. “Thank you, my love—thank you so, so much.” Your embrace grows tighter as you bask in emotions. “Thank you to you too, oppa,” she replies.

Now that the tears are starting to dry up, Jiwoo rises from your lap, thus letting your still-hard cock slip out. She lies square on her back next to you. “Come on, my king; make love to your queen.” You waste no time to take your rightful place between her spread legs. “Can I—” “Yes,” she interjects. “Come inside, my love; fill me with your essence and make me bear your child.” You chuckle. “Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves now, sweetheart.”

Jiwoo was about to say something else, but before the first syllable could leave her lips, your cock invades her lower ones. “Oh, yes, just like that,” she moans out, “make love to me just like that, my lovely king.” You move your hips at an unhurried pace, savoring the sensation of her tightness. “Oh, God, how are you this tight, baby,” you wonder out loud. She chuckles lightly with a blush on her face. “That’s just how much I love you, oppa.”

Jiwoo closes her eyes as the calm lovemaking progresses, finding it more intimate and enjoyable than kinky or rough sex. Quiet hums of approval also leave her lips occasionally amidst the soft moans. “Mm, yes, my love,” she mutters. “But a bit faster, if you don’t mind?” You smile. “Of course, baby.” You turn up the speed of your movements a few notches, thus earning a smile from Jiwoo. “Yes, that’s perfect, love—now, let’s run to the gates of orgasm together.”

Jiwoo’s sexy moans serve as fuel for you in this final stretch of the sprint towards completion, and the signs of orgasm are getting more apparent; you’re starting to throb inside her. “Fill me, my love.” With her permission in the back of your head, you lodge yourself inside her entirely and just… let go.

In your post-orgasm bliss, you fall limply onto Jiwoo, who is also as weak. “Thank you,” you whisper. A soft peck lands on your cheek. “Thank you, oppa,” she returns the gratitude. “It’s now clear to me that I can’t live without you—I mean, no one can understand me like you do.” You hum. “Promise me that you won’t get bored of me again.” Jiwoo sighs. “Saying it was a huge mistake anyway,” she adds.

-

“It is with utmost joy that I introduce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Shin. May their love grow stronger with each passing day.”

The hall that is filled with family members and closest friends explodes into deafening cheers, as those present are as happy as you and Jiwoo are for the new status.

You and her turn towards the crowd, waving at them, and you happen to spot your brother and his wife giving you four thumbs-ups. You put your hand on your chest to express gratitude to them for their wonderful, restless support for the past few months during the preparation of the wedding.

Jiwoo steals your attention by turning your face towards hers. “I love you, my boring husband.” Her words make you burst out laughing. “Boring means safe, yes?” She nods with an eye smile on her face. “Yes, I feel safe with you,” she says. You quickly capture her lips with yours.

“I feel safe with you too, baby, and I love you more.”

[dokyumms]

seventeen's reaction to their s/o being a surgeon !

pairings: ot13 x gn surgeon!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 861

cw: none

a/n: another request done! i'm definitely not a surgeon, so this is probably not accurate T-T also, i'm going to try to start posting on a schedule eventually... but i'm not sure yet. anyways, enjoy this kings ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

scoups - he didn't even realize he could fall more in love with you until you told him you were a surgeon. not only are you smart, but you save lives (and he just thinks you look hot in scrubs)? oh he's dug himself up a deeper hole. he tries to do what he can to help you, always offering to pick you up from work even if you clock out just hours before he has to go to practice.

jeonghan - he enjoys being your stay at home wife and sugar baby lol. when he found out, he probably showed the most excitement he'd shown in a while, "so, this means you have enough money to buy me a dyson hair dryer?" he likes knowing that you're working hard while he rots on the couch, but he hates when you have to get up for work at 5:30 in the morning. you can't count how many times you've almost been late for work since jeonghan will trap you in bed with him until the very last minute.

joshua - honestly the best moral support. he really loves that you help others for a living and wants to get involved, making bracelets for all your surgical patients. whenever you're burnt out or tired, he's there to catch you as well. he wants to make sure you're always in the best state to do your job well, so occasionally he'll nag on some of your bad habits, "we need you alive so you can keep other people alive silly,"

jun - he's very curious about your job, "you do what?? tell me more," he always asks about how your day was and won't sleep till you tell him every detail. so, now he knows all the drama between your coworkers. anytime he gets injured he immediately sends a photo to you with absolutely no warning and asks you to diagnose him (because he lowkey thinks surgeon = doctor 😭).

hoshi - very explosive reaction to say the least... "WHAT?? that's like such a scary job though??? how..?" he's honestly a little scared of you now. one time he sent you a picture of a vase he accidentally broke and was like "you won't dissect me or something because of this... right?" but anytime a member disrespects him? he's instantly using you to threaten them.

wonwoo - if he didn't have enough respect for you already, he certainly does now. he lovesss having a book-smart partner. sort of like jun, but he does more research so he can engage in more conversation with you. he even read a book all about it so you don't have to explain all the medical lingo to him.

woozi - secretly very impressed. he tries to be nonchalant about it when he finds out like, "okay.. cool," but then he'll end watching a ton of videos about it later. he would've never thought someone like you could have such an enduring job, you're always so bright around him! if it were him, he'd never be in a good mood lol.

dk - he's definitely worried about you all the time now, but also you're biggest cheerleader! anytime you have a big surgery coming up, he always send you good luck messages, "my y/nnn, you got this! i'll be cheering you on ๑˃̶͈̀Ⱉ˂̶͈́๑" he totally checks up on you like every hour as well, "are you eating? well you should eat :)"

mingyu - like jeonghan, he's now your stay at home wife. he literally packs you lunch every morning and even puts in little sticky notes with surgeon-related jokes... are they funny? well, more or less, but he always draws little doodles of you in your scrubs that make you giggle.

the8 - he admires you so much for your job, and he makes sure that you know it too. when you get home from work he's just like, "you're so cool, you know," if you EVER downplay yourself, he's constantly reminding you that you shouldn't try to make it sound like your job is easy. and to your dismay, he's always flexing that he's got a surgeon as his partner.

seungkwan - impressed and worried. whenever you mention having a big surgery, he's more nervous than you (even if it's already passed). he's really big on making sure you're taking care of yourself, offering to treat you to a spa day whenever you have time. plus, it's an excuse for him to do face masks with you.

vernon - bro will NOT stop making 'grey's anatomy' references. it's too late to stop him. "there're no 'mcdreamys' at your job right?" he makes you watch the show with him and asks if it's accurate. other than that, super chill and respects your work ethic.

dino - he's scared of you, but also super proud. you won't catch this guy even coming close to disrespecting you anytime soon. also someone who will confuse surgeons as doctors, so you have to explain to them that they're really different, and no, you can't write him a doctor's note so he can skip practice because he has a 'mega bad headache'

[teenidlegirl]

⠀✸⠀⠀𝓑𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝓞𝐅 𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓜𝐄𝐒𝐒⠀⠀┈⠀﹙⠀𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟏⠀﹚⠀ა ︎ ﾞ .

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀summary.⠀you’re nine months pregnant and your baby could arrive at any moment. you and miguel are excited until he’s called back for a dangerous mission, left to deal with the hardest decision ever, leaving you and the baby.

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀content.⠀angst, some fluff, pregnancy, heartbreak, arguments, emotional distress, firearms, mentions of violence, mentions of death, military shenanigans, sorta hurt/comfort

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter⠀ ❜

time has passed and you’re 9 months pregnant and your due date is three weeks away. while feeling utterly exhausted, you and miguel are excited for your daughter to come and start your life as a family. everything is prepared when the time comes. hospital bag filled with everything you need, nursery set up looking pretty for your baby girl, the entire apartment is baby-proof which was miguel’s doing. until you find another apartment or a house, which miguel has been house-hunting for months now, your apartment will be your home for your little family. you two couldn’t be more excited for this.

you, especially, are excited to pop out this baby because damn you are tired as hell. you told miguel no more babies after your first because pregnancy is exhausting. well, at least no more babies for a long time since who knows if you and miguel wish to have more in the future. he can’t blame you after seeing the exhaustion on your face during these last few months. but for right now, this baby is all you need and you can’t wait to meet her.

“i just realized we don’t have a name yet.”

you and miguel sit outside the patio of your apartment, sunbathing while enjoying a bowl of fruit. you wear a simple periwinkle babydoll dress with daisies, your large baby bump sticks out adorably in it. the bowl of fruit rests on top of your belly as a table, a tiny plastic bowl of course, easier to eat from. your legs rests comfortably on miguel’s lap as his large, calloused hands caressed them.

“oh, you’re right. we haven’t thought about one.” his brows furrowed slightly, thinking as miguel takes a few grapes from the bowl.

“all this time, three weeks until she’s born and we still haven’t thought of a name for her.” you giggle, munching on a few of your favorite fruits.

miguel huffs, grinning. “great parents, huh?”

you think as you feed him a strawberry. “any ideas?”

he ponders for a moment of possible names but nothing comes to mind. “not really, ¿tú?”

no ideas popped in your mind. “nope.”

“what about your name?”

you wipe off that smirk on his stupid handsome face by feeding him another strawberry.

“we’re not following that damn hispanic tradition of naming your first kid after you.”

miguel chuckles at your bluntness. “just an idea.”

“my sister wasn’t named after my mom because she hates her name and didn’t want to do that to my sister so we’re gonna do the same thing.”

“you hate your name?” one of his thick brows arched.

“well… no. i didn’t say that! there’s one person in this family with my name and that’s me.”

that elicits another chuckle from him. “i’m just messing with you, bebé. but i love your name.” he leans forward and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.

you roll your eyes, shyly smiling. “thanks.”

while munching on fresh fruit, no name ideas popped in either of your heads.

“ugh! why is it so difficult to come up with a name?” you slouch in your seat grumpily.

“we still have time, we’ll figure out something.” miguel reassures you, rubbing your swollen belly. “don’t stress about it, okay? it’s not good for both of you. it’ll come to us one day.”

a sigh escapes your lips. “hopefully.”

another kiss on your forehead. “for now it’ll be princesa.” his hand caresses your swollen tummy which results a kick from your baby. “she likes it.”

you hum happily, leaning against him. “i love it when you call her that, it melts my heart.”

his arm wraps around your shoulders, embracing you comfortably as his other hand grabs the bowl from on top of your belly and holds it. “i’m glad to know. she is mi princesa y tú mi reina.”

you lift your head up and look at him with a loving smile. “té quiero, mi osito.”

miguel’s heart flutters every time you call him that. you consider him your big teddy bear and he loves it. resting the fruit bowl beside him on the sofa, his hand gingerly cups your face as he leans closer and captures your lips in a gentle, loving kiss. your hand does the same and cup his cheek. the kiss is interrupted by a faint kick in your tummy.

you pull away with a giggle, caressing his cheek. “every time we kiss, she always kicks.”

“maybe she’s happy that her parents are in love.” a silly grin plastered on his face.

“they are and her parents love her.”

you and miguel go in for another kiss, resulting in another faint kick. you agree with miguel, your baby girl is happy that her parents love each other. you want nothing more than your daughter to grow up with loving parents and who love each other, to demonstrate a loving relationship.

later in the evening, you and miguel just finished having dinner. tonight was ravioli, a craving of yours which miguel had no problem making. he loves cooking for you, one of his many acts of service. you also love his cooking, he could be a chef as a side job. you told miguel once that he should have his own cooking show. he laughed and said that you should be the one with a cooking show, he adores your cooking. maybe a couple cooking show.

you rest on the couch watching a movie while miguel cleans up the kitchen. the man won’t let you touch or lift anything, just like throughout your entire pregnancy but is even more insistent about it since you could pop at any moment. in the beginning you were against it but not so much anymore considering your basketball sized tummy. besides, you get to watch your boyfriend maneuver around. admiring those bulging muscles ripple as he moves. biceps, shoulders, back, thighs. all so scrumptious.

once the dishes were washed and stored away, miguel makes a quick visit to the bathroom but not before leaving a kiss on your forehead then finally making his way over there. after doing his business and while washing his hands, he feels his phone vibrating in his back pocket. quickly drying his hands with a towel, miguel reached behind with a hand, grabs his phone and sees who’s calling.

‘IRONHEAD’

flash is calling him and that’s not a good sign. there are only two reason why he would call him: either for a mission or get-together with the team. miguel really hopes it is the second option even though he isn’t in the mood to go out, not with you about to give birth soon and he told the guys that.

exhaling deeply, miguel presses the green button and brings up the phone to his ear. it was a very long, hectic conversation. frustrated groans, mumbling, and swear words thrown around. it was so long that you eventually got worried since he has never taken that long in the bathroom. miguel knew you would eventually make your way over here. finally, he hangs up and heads back to the living room with not so good news hanging heavily on his shoulders.

you’re about to get up until miguel enters the room. the relief smile on your face falters when you notice his anxious expression. thick brows furrowed and eyes filled with apprehension.

“what’s wrong?” now your brows furrowed.

another long, deep breath of anxiety escapes his lips. “we need to talk about something…”

suddenly, your heart starts beating fast with anxiety. oh that isn’t good and honestly you’re scared. the moment miguel sits down next to you, the tension settles in. thick, heavy, and unsettling. both of you are nervous wrecks but miguel is more anxious since he’s about to tell you the worse news imaginable. he can already envision the tears of anger and frustration that will soon come in a few seconds.

“flash called me…” miguel starts off, his hand seeking yours and gently holds it. god, he feels like dying of anxiety. too afraid to speak the truth but mainly your reaction and where this conversation goes. “there’s a mission that i can’t back out.”

your brows furrowed a bit more. a mission, okay. the man is in the military, it’s bound for missions to come up. however, they can vary and the apprehension on miguel’s face say this isn’t an ordinary mission.

a shaky breath escapes his lips as miguel prepares to spill the unfortunate news of all.

“it’s in south america and… i don’t know long it’s gonna take and i have to fly out tomorrow.”

you feel your heart drop so suddenly. a plague of anxiety invades your veins completely, coursing through your body so viciously.

“t-tomorrow? what do you mean tomorrow?” you panic. “you can’t leave, not right now.”

“i know, baby, i know.” miguel squeezed your hand reassuringly, his heart breaking at your panic state. “i don’t want to leave either but i can’t back out on this, i have no choice—”

“you do have a choice!” you stand up abruptly, as much as you can due to your heavy tummy. “you don’t have to leave, miguel! you can’t leave!”

his heart continues breaking. “mi reina, siéntate por favor.” miguel tries to reach out for your hand to calm you down but you back away from his attempt.

“no, miguel! you can’t leave! she’s almost here and you’re leaving?! i need you here! she needs you here!”

he knew it would reach to this breaking point. you panicking, crying, and begging to him to stay. each cry is a stab to his heart. miguel hates seeing you cry, especially when he is the reason for it.

miguel stands up, a remorseful look in his eyes. desperate to reach out and pull you back into his arms. “mi reina, i know. i want nothing more than to stay here with you and be here for you and our daughter. i don’t wanna leave you two, it’s the last thing i want and i fucking hate leaving you. i told flash no many times, that i refuse to go. he understood, he and the guys don’t want to do this either but command left us with no choice and said the mission won’t be successful without me.”

all you do is keep shaking your head no, refusing to believe this is happening. the love of your life, the father of your child is leaving you for god knows how long before the birth of your daughter. suddenly, it feels like your world is crumbling. everything is crashing down like a paper plane. one minute you were enjoying fresh fruit and sunbathing while discussing possible baby names, then your boyfriend has to leave you and your baby for a mission in another fucking country for an unknown amount of time. how the fuck did things change so drastically?

“no, you can’t.” you keep shaking your head in denial as tears spill uncontrollably. “you can’t leave. she’s almost here, miguel. she’s almost here and i can’t do this alone, please don’t do this.”

miguel’s heart continues breaking immensely at the sight of your tears. it triggers his own tears to fall. “lo siento, mi reina. lo siento mucho.” he attempts to reach out for your hand and you don’t fight back, bringing you closer to him into his hold.

“miguel, por favor.” you look up at him with pleading, glossy eyes. “please don’t leave me… not again…”

fuck, that shatters his heart completely.

he left you once, broke your heart, broke your trust, and he forever hated himself for that. now miguel has to do the one thing he swore to leave do again, only this time he had no choice. now he hates being in the military. he has to leave you and it fucking hurts, especially to leave you when your baby will arrive soon. miguel doesn’t want to miss the birth of his daughter. he needs to be there for her, for you.

why did it have to be now?

at this moment, he hated being in the military.

“lo siento mucho, mi reina.” his calloused hands gently cup your face and wipe your never-ending tears. “i don’t wanna leave you and our baby. not again, mi reina. i’m so so sorry…”

your apartment is filled with the sounds of your sobs. both of you are crying at this moment. you completely break down and miguel doesn’t hesitate to pull you to his chest and embrace you tightly, feeling your trembling figure in his arms. afraid to let you go, doesn’t ever want to let you go.

the rest of the night was a sobbing catastrophe. the four walls of your apartment concealed with your heartbroken sobs and pleads.

what if he doesn’t come back?

what if he’s killed in combat?

what if, instead of celebrating the birth of your daughter, you are mourning the death of your boyfriend?

the excitement of becoming a family now ruined.

the day you and miguel have been dreading has come. the day he leaves for south america. since you’ve been crying all night, you feel utterly exhausted besides feeling depressed. you sat there in bed all miserable watching miguel pack up and get ready for his departure. every time your eyes meet, miguel had a guilty, remorseful expression. it pained him to see how miserable you looked. those tearful eyes silently begging him to stay, stop packing, dive back into bed with you, and stay with you forever. miguel hated this just as much as you do.

despite how much he hates to leave you, there is only one person miguel trusts to take care of you while he’s gone. he contacted his mother and ask her to stay here with you until he returns. the woman did not hesitate to agree and make her way over. you didn’t bother to argue, too busy being miserable. but truth be told, you actually don’t mind conchata staying here and helping out. you would love to spend more time with her, you know she’d do anything for you and the baby. she’s pretty much your mother-in-law. you agree with the plan. however, you still wish for miguel to stay.

through teary tears, you watch miguel return from the bathroom clad in all black attire. even feeling miserable, he still manages to take your breath away. he approaches the nightstand, opens the drawer, and takes out his pistol that he keeps here ever since he’s been staying at your place. protection purposes of course. miguel won’t take any risks, especially when it comes you and the baby. no harm has come yet the man is accustomed to securing and protecting. after checking the clip of ammo and putting the safety on, miguel shoves the pistol in the back of his pants and covers it with his shirt. his eyes meet yours once again but this time you look away, concealing the tears already spilling. his heart aches every time, so much guilt plaguing his body.

eventually, conchata arrives to see the heartbreaking sight in front of her. her son prepared to leave for another dangerous mission and her future daughter-in-law silently crying. you and miguel are in the living room by the time she gets there. she greets her eldest with a hug and kiss before approaching you.

“oh mija…” she gently pulls you into a tight, comforting embrace which you accept immediately and softly sob into her shoulder.

miguel observed solemnly, heartbroken for you and dreading his departure. he really doesn’t want to go, not to leave you crying and begging for him. he didn’t want this yet he was left with no choice. the ringing from his phone snaps him out of those depressing thoughts. a text message from flash saying he and the guys are here waiting in the car outside.

it’s time to leave, unfortunately.

breaking your embrace, conchata gives your arms a comforting rub with a soft reassuring smile before walking over to say goodbye to her son. miguel embraces his mother, exhaling deeply.

“té amo mucho, mijo. lo prometo. cuídate mucho, mijo, por favor.” she glances up at him. “make sure to come back to your family.”

you and your daughter. his beautiful family.

miguel silently promises to not allow his mother to lose another son, to not leave you a widow and single mother, to not leave his daughter without a father.

he will come back, he’ll make sure of it.

“lo prometo, mamá. té amo.” he plants a kiss on her scalp and embraces her one last time before he moves on to you, conchata stepping aside and turning around to give you both privacy.

instinctively, your head starts shaking as tears swell in your eyes for the nth time. “please don’t go…” you grip onto his shirt as if you’re terrified to let him go.

his heart continues to shatter. “lo siento, mi reina.” miguel’s strong arms wrap around you and hold you close to him, as much as your swollen belly allows you which is lightly pressed against his abs. “i promise to come back to you and our baby. i swear it, mi amor. i will come back to you both.”

his sincere words make you break down uncontrollably. you know miguel will do everything he can to come back home to you and the baby. you know he doesn’t want to leave as much as you do. you sob into his chest as his arms tighten around you, holding your trembling form. one last hug before he disappears for who knows how long. one last time to be with each other before parting ways.

miguel leans down, you reach up and capture each other’s lips for one final kiss. a kiss that you wish it could last forever. calloused hands gingerly cup your face. you grip onto his wrists tightly, afraid to let him go. savoring this one final kiss, savoring the taste of each other before drifting away. miguel gives you one last kiss then kneels in front of your swollen tummy and adorns it with loving kisses. your fingers gently brush through those soft brown curls one last time.

“i promise to come back to you, mi princesa.” he whispers against your belly, earning a faint kick which makes you both smile sadly. rising to his full height towering you, he cups your cheek. “i’ll come back to you, mi reina. té quiero tanto.”

“té quiero.” you desperately reach out to tug on his dog tags and bring him down for another final kiss which is sadly interrupted by miguel’s phone ringing, making him groan in frustration.

miguel whispers you a final ‘i love you’ before parting ways and grabbing his black duffle bag from the kitchen counter. you start sobbing more as you watch him preparing to leave. conchata turns around and approached you with open arms. sighing heavily, miguel turns around to look at you both one last time with a remorseful expression before opening the door and walking out, closing it behind him. you broke down once again as you watch the love of your life leave for the second time. conchata brings you into her arms and embraces you deeply as you sob. the four walls of your little apartment conceal the heartbroken sound of your sobs and wails.

your life is changed once again by a unfortunate incident. however, this time hurt much more.

that same guilty, agitated expression never faltered as miguel geared up and sit in his seat of the helicopter. his clothes covered with tactical gear. bulletproof vest, tactical helmet with night vision goggles attached, another pair of goggles that are ballistic meant for eye protection, his pistol as a secondary weapon stored the holster strapped on his right thigh, and additional equipment. a rifle in his hands while waiting for takeoff.

the rest of the squad are strapped in. flash next to miguel, ben and kaine seated across from them. as the engine starts, flash notices miguel’s somber expression which causes him to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. miguel flinched at the contact but immediately recognizes his teammate.

“you’ll make it back to her, both of them.” the blonde gives his teammate’s shoulder a light pat.

miguel sighs heavily, lowering his head with a head shake. “i feel fucking terrible leaving her. leaving at the worst fucking time imaginable.”

the blonde frowns remorsefully. “i know man, i gave command shit but of course they don’t give a fuck. lets just hope this shit isn’t a long one and you’ll be back in time before your kid comes.”

the brunette simply nods. miguel really hopes he’ll be back in time before the baby is born so he can be there for you when the day comes. sitting by your side, holding your hand in his as you welcome your daughter into the world. a dream he wants to come true. he’ll do anything to make it come true.

“appreciate it, ironhead.”

flash pats his shoulder a once again. “always, man.”

the helicopter finally takes off and the men’s journey to south america begins. throughout the flight, miguel only thinks about you. never once you left his mind. he knows you’re struggling with his departure but his mother is there to care for you. he knows you’re safe and being taken care of. but the guilt still lingers in his heart. he would rather be at home with you than stuck on this damn helicopter. however, miguel will do whatever he can to come home to you.

he won’t disappear forever this time.

𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @lovehadlovelost @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @asterrrrose @glossygreene @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer @wasitforrevenge @webshoootrz @f1-hoff @chaeriescola @espressopatronum454 @trocaderoisyummy @totallygyomeiswife @mcmiracles @celestialgarden23 @tatatida @whdhjfjvjvjfjdhsj @nocturne-light @xenop0p @juneonhoth @ghostsdoll @marshmallowsforever @ibelyss @imissubaee @demonic-bird @fandomtrash5092 ( if you’re not tagged, age/age-range is require since this fic is 18+, context for reasons why )

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[hivemuthur]

Hii! Thank you for replying. I've read five things and loved it so much I wanted to send another ask, and somehow managed to forget to send it, but never mind here it is now.

I was thinking a viktor×reader who were eachother's first everything (early academy days?) but than the reader had to move away for schooling/work, whatever, but now they're back (sometime after the beginning of hextech) and have to work with jayce and viktor. How would that dynamic look like? They didn't breakup over an argument or because they fell out of love but because that's the way life took them. I'm imagining them knowing eachother so well inside and out to the point people just assume they're dating. (Reader making viktors coffee even better than he can himself, viktor making something to fix a problem reader has but never had a solution for, anything really). And I don't know, maybe, possibly, somehow the tension gets to be too much for both of them and they're both more skilled now and whatnot... (I could live without that part tho, is you feel like it doesn't fit)

Sorry if the ask is too complicated, I've just been thinking about it for so long.

I know it's gonna be a while before you can write it but I can't wait to read all of the other requests in the meantime.❤️

~🍒

Dear sweet 🍒 Janna, hello again! Here's your fic!

Same As It Ever Was

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! a bit of everything - fluff, angst (light), smut

word count: 5,6K

author’s note: this is very freeform, an experiment, kinda? A story told in vignettes, little scenes between Viktor and Reader since the moment she came back to the Academy interwoven with their past, sex included. For this to work, I've written current events in Present Tense and the flashbacks in Past Tense.

artist on X (obsessed at this point)

—

You brace yourself with a deep breath—just as you did all those years ago. With lungs full of air, you cross the threshold, and memories come crashing back. Heimerdinger’s lectures, suspicious cafeteria food, noise complaints from your neighbours when Jayce laughed too loud in your dorm. Your dorm itself—its lumpy bed, not enough cabinet space for your books, scattered notes, and long night study sessions with Viktor.

As promised, he and Jayce are there, waiting to pick you up in the entrance hall. Jayce is as giddy as ever—stretching, chattering, busying himself with the announcement board, occasionally pointing at something to get Viktor’s attention. He looks almost the same.

Viktor, on the other hand—nearly still. He leans on a… crutch? It’s a crutch now, huh. You wince at not knowing sooner. An extra brace on his leg as well. His form is more hunched than you remember. He nods at Jayce’s remarks absently, craning his head toward the door, and his face—oh. It lights up when he sees you, just as it used to. Your heart travels all the way up to your throat.

You have to force yourself not to skip. Jayce reaches you first, nearly crashing into you with his embrace. He’s stronger than before, his shoulders broader. Either he’s gotten taller, or Viktor looks shorter. He pats your back and chuckles a mumbled hi—but your eyes are already on Viktor.

He opens his arms in an inviting gesture, and you slide right in. He still fits. He still smells the same, though there’s a lingering trace of oil on his collar. His hair is longer, and his clothes hang looser on his frame, but he feels the same. His neck is just as pretty, his hands just as strong. They go where they used to—one to your back, the other cradling the nape of your neck. You take one last inhale before he pulls back, a familiar spark playing in his eyes as he says, "Welcome back."

***

You stared at the schedule board, squinting as you tried to make sense of the messy list. You muttered under your breath, crossing out dates in frustration when the door behind you creaked open.

A voice spoke from behind, calm and precise. “Do you need assistance?”

You turned to see him—tall, neat, with a cane at his side. Pretty hair falling boyishly over his forehead, eyes the colour of liquid gold, two freckles decorating his upper lip and a spot under his eye. His voice was thickly accented, and you suddenly felt dumber than ever.

“What gave me away?” you huffed, managing a smile. “Groaning or furious scribbling?”

“Eh, a little bit of both,” he said, leaning in slightly to point at a part of the board. “Let me help?”

You handed him your notebook, and he made quick work of explaining the confusing schedule. “Looks like we’ll be seeing each other,” he hummed, studying your timetable.

Thank the gods, you thought. Feigning surprise instead of relief, you raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He nodded, the faintest smile pulling at his lips. “I’m looking forward to having class with you. I’m Viktor.”

In response, you muttered your name in one breath.

Without another word, he pressed the notebook into your hand, making sure your hands brushed, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, momentarily dumbfounded.

***

You follow Jayce and Viktor through the lab, eyes wide as they show you around. The space is far more impressive than you remember—equipment gleams, wires stretch across the ceiling like intricate veins, and the hum of machinery fills the air. Jayce is practically bouncing with excitement, narrating every little detail with an energy that nearly has you dizzy, while Viktor stays quieter, his gaze focused, occasionally glancing at you as though checking for your reactions.

You’re still trying to wrap your mind around everything when the tour finally ends, and Viktor turns to you with a small smile. “Is there anything you need?” he asks, his voice as smooth and calm as ever.

You consider it for a moment, then sigh dramatically. “I would kill for a coffee.”

Jayce snorts a laugh, “Things don’t really change, do they? Do you want to make it yourself as usual?”

“Of course, as you mentioned—things don’t change, which means I still don’t trust any of you with your coffee-making skills, Jayce,” you reply with a smirk, stepping past him toward the kitchenette area. Viktor watches you closely, but you don’t pay him any mind as you start pulling out the necessary ingredients. “Do you want one?” you throw over your shoulder. And Viktor nods with a smile.

You fall into an easy rhythm, just like old times. Your hands work quickly, grinding the beans, adjusting the water temperature, adding the perfect amount of milk—exactly how you know he likes it. It’s almost like your body remembers, and you can’t help but feel a strange sort of nostalgia as the familiar process comes naturally.

The sound of Viktor clearing his throat breaks your focus, and when you turn, he’s standing a little closer than you expected. His eyes are fixed on the coffee mug in your hands, and the way he’s staring at it almost makes you laugh.

You hand him the cup with a raised brow. “Did I get it right?”

He takes a slow sip, his expression unreadable at first. Then, after a long pause, he sets the cup down carefully on the counter, still looking at you, and says quietly, “Perfect.”

The fact that you remember how to make it, that you remember him—how he likes it, what he’s used to—has him speechless. You watch him for a moment, unsure of what he’s thinking, and the quiet fills the space between you both.

“Just like before,” he says, as though to himself, and you can't help but smile.

***

“Okay, coffee or death,” you whined, pressing your forehead to the desk with exaggerated dramatics. It had been your fourth hour of studying, and the letters on the page began to blur.

“I guess it’s coffee then,” Viktor stretched his legs in the chair before scrambling up to the kettle. “I have no idea how I would explain a corpse in my room.”

“I do not care what motivates your actions, I’m just in dire need of something keeping me alive, or I will fail this class,” you mumbled, still buried in the notes resting under your face. A cup set firmly by your left cheek made your eyebrow quirk, and you let out a sigh of contentment.

“Ah, sweet salvation,” you hummed, grabbing it and taking a sip. And then—

“Viktor. What is this?”

Viktor’s voice was light as he shrugged. “It’s a coffee strong enough to keep you awake until morning.”

You winced, shaking your head slightly. “It’s so strong, it could actually solve the dead body problem you’ve mentioned before.”

He chuckled at that, his gaze still on you. “I suppose that’s one way to describe it.”

You huffed in frustration. “Do I have to do everything myself?”

Viktor only grinned, a spark of amusement in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself out of your chair and crossing the room to the counter. “Alright, move aside.” You grabbed the ingredients with a practiced hand, preparing a new brew. “This is coffee, not the motor fluid you made.”

Viktor leaned back in his chair, watching you as you worked. “That’s very thoughtful. I suppose you can always become a barista if you fail the class.”

You turned, one eyebrow raised in challenge. “Just wait, Viktor. You’ll see. If I fail, I’ll open my own shop. I’ll call it ‘Professor Coffee’—I’ll make sure the brew is strong enough to wake the dead.”

Viktor’s laugh was soft but genuine. “It seems you’ve got it all figured out.”

***

You reach out, barely muttering, “Could you pass me…” before the tool is already in your hand. You glance at Viktor, who hasn’t even looked up from his work.

“How did you know?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing in surprise.

He taps his temple, a small smile playing beneath his goggles. “I have a good memory.”

***

You frowned at your workbench, trying to put a name to the tool you needed, but your mind blanked.

“Can you pass me the…” you began, unsure, your voice trailing off. You made a small gesture with your hand, hoping Viktor would somehow understand what you meant. Without hesitation, he handed you a wrench.

“No, not this,” you said, waving it off. “The other one?” You gestured again.

Viktor stared at you, brows furrowed, before passing you a screwdriver.

“Not that one either!” you huffed, frustration creeping in—not with him, but because your mind had suddenly decided to fail.

The ritual continued, with Viktor visibly amused as your hand hovered over the various tools he’d passed you. Wrenches, pliers, a hammer, and a couple of screwdrivers littered the workbench. You glanced down at your notes, trying to remember.

Viktor hummed, looking from your desk to your notes. His eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a knowing smile. “Ah. This one?”

Before you could respond, he was standing behind you, lowering the tool into your hand. His arms brushed the sides of your face, and you felt the press of his stomach against your back. For a moment, you froze, breath catching in your throat.

“A calliper,” you whispered.

“Well done, lásko,” Viktor muttered into your ear.

***

The clock announces an hour way past when you’ve expected to be home already. “Should we call it a night?” you ask Viktor, who sits opposite you, a soft smile curling on his lips.

“Some things have changed, then,” he says, tapping his crutch lightly against the floor. “You used to work until figurative death back in the day.”

“Well, I guess I’m getting older,” you reply with a grin, your tone light but laced with a touch of weariness. “What about you? Any big changes?”

He knocks on his brace playfully, lifting the crutch with a small gesture. “Besides the visible?” He chuckles softly. “Not much. Still working to the death.”

Your smile falters for a second, your gaze softening as you roll closer to him on your chair. You rest your hands gently on his knees, studying his face for any signs of deeper discomfort.

“Are you well, though?” you ask, your voice quiet, careful.

Viktor looks at your hands for a moment, then props the crutch on the desk beside him. He squeezes your palms, his grip firm but tender.

“I am now,” he replies, his voice low, almost like a confession. “Haven’t been for a while, but now I’m well. As well as I can be.” He pauses for a beat, then adds with a small smile, “And now that you’re back, I’m even better.”

You brush your fingers gently through his hair, feeling the familiar warmth of his presence, the intimacy of the gesture. Viktor hums softly, his eyes fluttering closed in response. So familiar, you think, a wave of nostalgia washing over you.

You swallow before speaking again, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I’ve missed you.”

Viktor’s eyes remain closed, his expression softening, and when he speaks, his voice heavier now when he sighs. “I know.” He pauses, squeezing your hand once more. “I’ve missed you too.”

***

You and Viktor lay in bed together, tangled in the warmth of each other’s embrace. His arm was draped around you, and the soft rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek was a steady comfort. The room was quiet, unbearably so, when you nuzzled into his neck, inhaling deeply. His scent—rich, familiar, like the warmth of him—filled your senses, and you clutched him tighter, as though trying to memorize the feeling of him.

"I'm going to miss you so much," you whispered, your voice muffled against his skin, your breath shaky with the weight of the thought.

Viktor hummed softly in response, his fingers tracing small circles on your back. "I know. I will miss you terribly too." His words were gentle, but there was a deep sadness in his voice that you could feel even without looking at him.

He nudged your face with his nose, his palm warm as it cupped your cheek. His touch felt like a promise, though you weren't sure what to expect. "If it's meant to be, we will meet again," he said, his voice low, the words wrapped in the quiet certainty.

A pang in your chest tugged at you, and without thinking, you leaned up, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was soft, but your heart ached with the knowledge that this might be the last time you felt him close. It tasted with bitter acceptance, as you poured every bit of feeling you had into it, hoping it would somehow last, somehow hold you both together despite the distance that would come.

When you pulled away, your heart felt heavy, like it was breaking in your chest.

***

You both sit on the couch in your apartment, papers and notes scattered around you, a quiet hum of frustration bounces between you. Viktor’s hair is dishevelled, falling into his eyes, and his shirt has found its way half-out of his pants, a few buttons undone. He stares at the pages in front of him, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and determination. You glance over at him, hoping for a breakthrough.

“Any ideas?” you ask, your voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

Viktor groans and rubs his eyes, his shoulders sagging. “You know what… I think I’m getting old too,” he mutters, dropping his hand to your lap. “Can we get back to it when I’ve had at least two hours of sleep?”

He looks at you, his hand settling on your knee absentmindedly, his fingers warm through the fabric of your clothes. You stare at his hand for a moment, before looking up at him. He seems so tired, but also so… beautiful. His rumpled clothes and tousled hair remind you of the boy you loved.

“Sure,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You look at him, really look at him. He’s always been handsome, but tonight you can finally see how much time has passed. The wrinkles carving his face deeper, jaw stronger, singular grey strands shining through the chestnut hair. Eyes the same. He doesn’t look like a boy anymore.

Wordlessly, you move closer to him and his gaze doesn’t falter. You cup his cheeks and brush your thumb over his lip. And then, your mouth comes close to his, into a soft brush, trembling and tentative. And Viktor responds with a hand sliding up your thigh and a tilt of his head. He cranes his neck and closes the little distance left between you with a sigh of relief.

His free hand slides up to your neck, pulling you in as his mouth parts and tongue joins to wrestle with yours. He gasps when you bite his lower lip and hums, as his palm slides behind to cup your ass. Fully in his grasp, he press yourself more onto him, fingers tangling into his hair, coaxing small sounds out of his throat. It’s wet and slow and when you peek through your eyelashes his brows are scrunched and a blush blooms down his neck to his chest.

He doesn’t kiss like a boy anymore, you think to yourself. It comes unbidden and warms your insides up.

The taste of him lingers on your lips as you pull away just a fraction, your breaths mingling. You barely have a moment to think before Viktor kisses you back, deeply, hoarse inhale taken straight from your lungs leaves you dizzy.

***

Viktor had walked you back to your dorm after a late-night study session at the library. His pace was slow, almost reluctant, as if he was trying to figure out what to say before you parted ways. You were too tired to wait for him to find the words, your mind still foggy from hours of studying.

“I guess this is goodn—” you started, but before you could finish the word, his lips were on yours. The kiss came out of nowhere, abrupt and clumsy, pressing you back into the door behind you. For a moment, you froze, your tired mind scrambling to catch up with what was happening.

Then, the realization sank in, and the sound that left your lips transformed from startled surprise to a soft moan. You responded without thinking, hands sliding up Viktor's sides, feeling the warmth of his body as you kissed him back.

He dropped his cane, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. His touch was urgent, hands cradling your back and drawing you in as you ran your fingers through his hair. Feeling your response, he grew bolder, shut his eyes and concentrated on drawing deep breaths through his nose to not have to part from you.

Hands everywhere, as if he couldn’t decide what to do. You nearly laughed when she squeezed your butt quickly, only to go back to your waist, slide into your ribs and then to the small of your back. So feverish.

When the oxygen run out, he broke the kiss but still kept you close. “I wanted to do this for the longest time,” he chuckled into your mouth.

***

He gives himself a good-willed push off the couch’s armrest but ends up trapping your hip beneath his. His face scrunches in worry when you hiss, but the sound quickly transforms into a laugh. When your stomach shakes beneath him, Viktor feels a strange swelling in his chest. This is so familiar.

He looks at you longingly, sliding his fingers into your hair. Your laughter dies into a moan when his groin presses between your legs. His tongue grows more eager now, as if he remembers just how much he used to want you. “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he breathes against your lips, and you respond by fisting his shirt, nearly tearing it. You try to say you’ve missed him too—fuck, how much you’ve missed him every day—but you can’t, because your mouth is full.

You brace yourself on your elbows, meeting him halfway. You’re not sure you can bear to part long enough for him to take your clothes off, so instead, you take his hands and press them to your ass. He accepts, of course, kneading your flesh in rhythm with his breath.

When you finally straddle him, your fingers move to undo the rest of his shirt. That’s when he stills. His palms come up to wrap around yours, and a quiet plea escapes him. “Wait,” he says weakly, his cock already hard—you’re sure this costs him a lot.

“Whatever for?” you ask, nosing at his face before pressing kisses to his cheeks, his closed eyelids. You untangle your fingers from his and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I should show you something first,” he murmurs, and begins to undo his shirt. You lean back to give him space to sit up, but your hips never leave his, and your eyes never look away from his face. You give him the room he needs, and feel unbearably not close enough.

***

You fought with the doorknob to your bedroom for a hot minute. Viktor, being very distracting, had completely derailed your brain from this simple dexterity task with continuous neck-licking and ear-kissing. He kept smirking against your skin, all cocky and pleased with himself, ever since the moment you’d asked, “Do you want to come in?”

You stumbled into the room together, and his fingers immediately shot to your vest. You hadn’t even blinked properly before it was undone, his hands cupping your breasts through your shirt, his cane hooked over his forearm.

Laughing and snorting at his clumsiness, you’d steadied him by the waist and let him walk you backward toward the bed.

Your hands fumbled at the buttons of his shirt, but they were small and stubborn, and you were too impatient. With a frustrated huff, you abandoned the effort and slid your hands over his shoulders instead. “Arms up,” you ordered, and Viktor chuckled as he complied.

He lifted his arms obediently, but as you dragged his shirt over his head, it caught for a moment, tangling around his face. He let out a muffled laugh, flailing slightly as you tugged it free, and the moment he was loose, he lost his balance. He tumbled backward onto the bed with an oof, propping himself up on his elbows as he grinned up at you.

You stepped between his legs, watching as his expression softened, turning almost reverent. His hands found your waist, fingers brushing deliberately over the fabric of your skirt before he slid it down, letting it pool at your feet. His lips followed the motion, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your stomach before he rested his chin there, gazing up at you.

He cradled your hips, thumbs stroking lazily over your skin. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, his voice quiet, careful.

You nodded, eager, and leaned down to kiss him, pouring every answer he could ever need into the press of your lips.

***

“There is both more and less to me than there used to be,” Viktor says, rubbing slow, thoughtful circles up and down your thighs. His expression is pensive, and an apology lingers somewhere in his voice. You hate that he feels the need to apologise in the first place.

Your touch slides across his chest, down—down the leather ridges of a brace you’ve never seen before. It screams Jayce Talis with every bolt, every stitch, and your heart aches at the thought that you weren’t here when this was happening.

Your eyes dart between his chest and his lips before you finally nestle deeper against his pelvis, wrap your arms back around his neck, and crush your mouth to his in a kiss that weeps remorse. “You beautiful, beautiful man,” you whisper, pressing your face into his. “How are you so brave?”

You cup his cheeks, and he only smiles, covering your palm with his.

“I’m not brave. I just… survived,” Viktor says with a small shrug. Then, after a pause: “Would you like to help me take them off?”

You nod, eager, and lean down to kiss him, pouring all the fragmented pieces of yes into the press of your lips.

***

Viktor rolled with you across the sheets, his hands skimmed up your sides, warm and eager, fingers pressing into your skin like he was trying to memorise the feel of you. Your mouths met again, lips parting, tongues teasing—lazy and deep, now that you had each other finally.

He pulled you closer, your thighs bracketing his hips, and when you reached down, fingers curling into the waistband of his trousers, he let out a shaky breath. You grinned against his mouth, tugging them lower inch by inch, letting your nails drag over his skin just to hear the quiet little sounds he made in response. Finally, with one last playful yank, you pulled them off entirely, giggling when they got caught at his ankles for a moment before slipping free.

And then you saw it—his brace.

Viktor stiffened immediately. His hands twitched at his sides, and he turned his head slightly, as if he wanted to look anywhere but at you. "It’s nothing," he muttered, voice quieter than before. "You don’t have to—"

You reached out, your palm settling gently on his leg. "Viktor," you said softly, your touch firm but tender. His gaze flicked back to yours, guarded, unsure. "You are so beautiful."

He gasped, a sound so quiet you might not have caught it if you weren’t so close. His lips parted slightly, eyes searching yours like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard you right.

You didn’t give him time to argue. Instead, you leaned down, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his thigh, just above the brace. He shivered beneath you. Carefully, you undid the clasps, your fingers working with quiet reverence, peeling away the brace as if unveiling something sacred.

It left behind faint indentations in his skin—lines and ridges pressed deep from the whole day of wear. You kissed each one, your lips trailing over the marks with the same care you’d give any other part of him. Viktor’s breath hitched, his fingers threading into the sheets, gripping tight.

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, barely above a whisper, he breathed, "You undo me."

***

You set the last metal part of Viktor aside, and now, finally—after years of longing—you see him. His legs are parted, eternal bruises marking his thigh and knee, the toes of one foot cramped closer together than the other. His ribs bear pearly little scars where the chest brace has caught against his skin.

His cock rests idly in the crease of his thigh, beautiful as ever—pink at the tip, his navel scattered with curly hair that meets in a neat line just below his belly button. His hips are sharp angles, his belly rising and falling with each breath. You take in this adult man’s body and compare it to the boy you fell in love with. And you are sure now—there is only more to him than there used to be.

You step between his legs, and his arms reach out, fingers tracing a scar on your lower abdomen. He hums, “This is new.”

“You should see the other guy,” you murmur playfully. “A machine malfunctioned at the lab. One of the energy conductors went unstable, and before I could shut it down, a piece of metal sliced me open.” You pause, watching his face tense. “I got lucky.”

Viktor brushes his thumb over the scar tissue before lowering his lips, pressing a kiss to it—slow, reverent. “My brave girl,” he mutters against your skin. Your head lulls back on your shoulders, fingers threading into his hair and you let out a sigh.

You shudder when he presses a delicate touch between your legs. His hand, more calloused than you remember, gathers the curve of your inner thigh—but oh, his fingers still feel the same. The same timid swipe across your core, the same quiet hum of approval at the wetness you've gathered for him. Then, his free arm comes to wrap around your hips, pulling you closer as he presses his ear to your belly and slides two fingers inside you.

More skill, you notice. A pang of jealousy coils in your chest—ugly, unnecessary—but you don’t let him see. He kisses your stomach, and his eyelashes tickle your skin as he moves his hand up and down and his fingers hit the spot that has you moaning out his name. “As tight as I remember,” he hums, and it lances through you how infinitely hotter he has become.

You tug at his hair to make him look at you. Two gold gems drill right through you when you say, “Viktor.” A sigh, then, “I think I really need to fuck you now.”

He smiles sweetly and kisses your stomach again. “Then it seems we are on the same page.”

***

After a lot of fumbling, adjusting, and whispered curses, you finally found what worked. Viktor propped his knee up with a pillow, his other leg hooked under yours, grounding you together. His weight pressed you into the mattress—not crushing, just enough to make you feel him everywhere, warm and steady.

He rolled his hips into you, slow and measured, his arm caging you in as he kissed you through it. The heat of his breath spilled over your mouth, his lips parting just enough to let out the quietest of moans. And even in the haze of pleasure, you could see it—the determination tightening his brow, the concentrated press of his mouth against yours. He was on a mission, and that mission was you.

One arm wound snugly around your neck, cradling you into him, while his other hand worked between your legs, fingers slick and diligent. He timed each stroke with the snap of his hips, coaxing you closer, closer—

“Oh—Viktor—”

The sound of your voice shattered something in him. His rhythm stuttered, his forehead dropped to yours, but his fingers didn’t stop, circling, pressing, working you toward your peak. You dug your nails into his back, rocking up to meet him, and then—

It rushed over you like a cresting wave. Your thighs tensed around his waist, your breath caught, and the pleasure crested so high it stole all thought. He moaned softly, watching, feeling every pulse of your release around him.

His movements became less controlled, needier, a touch more frantic. He groaned against your shoulder, muttered something in a language you barely caught, and then followed you over the edge. His body trembled against yours, hips stuttering, breath shaky as he spilled into you, his lips still parted against your skin.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sounds in the room were your slowing breaths, the faint creak of the mattress, and the heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Then, Viktor finally lifted his head, flushed, sweat-dampened curls clinging to his forehead. He swallowed hard, his expression abashed but glowing with something warm and dazed.

“I hope that at this point, it is merely a formality,” he said, still breathless. “But… may I be so bold as to call you my girlfriend from now on?”

***

Your hips slot back together as if no time has passed. He fills you the same way, stretches you perfectly, and the expression he makes as he sinks in—God, it’s the same. Crushingly fucking gorgeous. Relief and bliss war on his face, his lips parting around a shaky groan as his hands seize your ass, pulling you down fully with a sharp slap of skin against skin.

He nuzzles into your neck, breath heavy and warm, licks up the column of your throat before sinking his teeth into your tendon. You gasp, moan, and pull at his hair, and the low, satisfied hum he gives in response shoots straight through you. His grip on your hips tightens, thumbs pressing into your skin as he guides you into motion, dragging you up before urging you back down. A faint roll of his own hips meets yours with every descent, his restraint slipping as the pleasure builds.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice—he’s changed. There’s more confidence in the way he moves, the way he takes from you, the way he talks to you. His voice is deeper, richer, words curling into your skin like smoke.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, dark and approving. He drags a hand up your spine, settles it at your nape, tilting your head so you do look—so you watch the way he devours you with his eyes. “You take me so well, lásko.”

Heat spreads down to your toes. You try to bite back a whimper, but he sees it, hears it, and smirks. Smirks, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

Oh, he’s so much bolder now. And you’re falling apart because of it.

It starts with the way he tilts his hips just right, the way his grip on you tightens like he knows exactly where you need him. His free hand glides down your spine, tracing sweat-slick skin before slipping between your bodies. Two fingers find your clit, and your breath stutters. He circles once, twice—slow and deliberate—before pressing down, firm and unrelenting.

“Come for me,” he murmurs, voice like silk, like sin. He rewards you with a deep thrust, dragging a broken moan from your throat. “Let me feel you.”

You do—oh, God, you do. Pleasure overtakes you, crashing through your body in waves, pulling you under. Your thighs shake around him, your hands fly to his shoulders, nails sinking into muscle as you arch and shudder and keen his name. He groans, eyes dark and reverent as he watches you unravel in his lap.

Yet still, there are things that haven’t changed. The way his breath hitches when you clench around him. The way his moans turn desperate when you lean forward and suck at his throat. The way he starts to chase the pleasure once he gets close, gripping you tighter, rutting up into you with a fervour that makes your head spin.

And the way he comes—the same shudder, the same deep, gasping moan, the same way his arms crush you against his chest as if he could pull you inside him. His release spills deep, his body trembling beneath yours, and you realise it then, as you always have.

He is grateful for this. For you.

Your noses brush as he catches his breath, and his hands smooth over your back, grounding himself in the feel of you.

“Still with me?” you murmur, running your fingers through his damp curls.

Viktor exhales a breathless laugh, lids heavy, lips parted in something like awe. He nods, shifting just enough to press a lingering kiss to your collarbone. “Always.”

[joelmillerisapunk]

💥🔥 SCREAMING. CRYING. THROWING UP. 🔥💥

I don’t think you understand how dangerously good this is. The tension. The dynamic. The way every line is dripping with raw intensity and undeniable chemistry. This isn’t just smut—this is a whole experience.

Lucien?? Lucien has me in a CHOKEHOLD. The way he knows what she needs, the way he gives it to her without question, without hesitation. How he understands that this isn’t about love—it’s about something deeper, something darker, something only he can satisfy. And god, does he satisfy.

And the writing?? Absolutely filthy in the best possible way. The details, the pacing, the push and pull of dominance and surrender—I need this BURNED into my brain. The teasing? The control? The absolute wreckage he leaves behind? I’m ascending.

And that ending. The cigarette. The quiet. The unspoken longing. “Till next time.” OH. MY. GOD. This is the kind of dynamic that makes me feral.

I want to personally thank you for ruining me. I’ll never recover. 🔥🔥🔥

Some of my favorite parts down below because honestly this whole thing set me on fire:

ohhh you calling me out now? lmao “See, baby? That's your problem, you always push people away. You're scared to be loved. And that's why you always call me.” WAHHHHH  “You think that? But who's gonna love you like I do, baby?”“And how do you love me?”“My way,” he said, coming closer to you, a cigarette resting behind his ear. This motherfucker was the hottest man you knew. The biggest red flag you’d ever met. OMFG IM SCREAMING cause same for him raw all the way “No. You’re the only dick that I fuck raw.” OH THIS IS DELICIOUS “Come on baby, let me in,” he said against your lips, his familiar tobacco breath invading your nostrils a little more. “And I'm not talking about your cunt, she’s already droolin’, right?”

holy fuckkkkk this man is hotter than lava “Come on, baby. I’ve been thinking about fucking your mouth since you called me,” he said, slowly jacking his thick cock with his fist, his stare full of lust. 

mhmm yes chains please two chains resting at the bottom of his neck. 

im fucking dizzy He remained standing for a few moments, looking at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. His hard cock pointed towards the ceiling, slowly jacking off again after spitting into his palm. Even though the precum was flowing from his reddened slit.

smoking bad men smoking like this HOT HOT HOT He was so good that sometimes he would make you come in less time than it took you to finish your cig. Then he’d grab it from your trembling fingers to take a drag while you were still trying to catch your breath. 

Shameless

3k1 | Lucien de Leon x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist

Summary: you ask Lucien to come over and he does exactly what you need him to Warnings: 18+ mdni. Oral (f/m), size kink, cigarettes, rimming, ass play, piv, creampie, pet names (baby, baby girl), reader has no specific physical descriptions but wears a dress

a/n:  Thank you for the inspo @gothcsz 🙏❤️ (tumblr free Kat FFS§§§) Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing and for everything, ily so, so much 🥹💕 @/saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

“Come on baby, don't play like this now,” he said, full of self-confidence, leaning against the wall in front of your door in his stupid shirt. The mountain of shit he had been dragging behind him for years had never damage his self-esteem.

“I don’t know why I keep calling you,” you said, bitter and unfair towards him. “Every time I regret it. Before or after I fuck you.”

“Mmmm… So you regret it now? You want me to leave? Ok,” he added, turning around, before you could even answer.

“Fuck, wait, Lucien!”

He didn't hide his smile as he turned around. 

“See, baby? That's your problem, you always push people away. You're scared to be loved. And that's why you always call me.”

“Yeah, right. And you’re perfect for that, because love’s not your thing.”

He leaned against the wall again, a soft smile on his lips.

 “You think that? But who's gonna love you like I do, baby?”

“And how do you love me?”

“My way,” he said, coming closer to you, a cigarette resting behind his ear. This motherfucker was the hottest man you knew. The biggest red flag you’d ever met.

“You always say you wanna be good but you keep begging me to come over,” he said, moving closer to you, his face only a few inches away from yours. Damn, you just wanted to kiss him. To fuck him.

“Because no one can touch you like me, that deep,” he added, brushing your lips with his before pulling away.

“I’m not just talking about here,” he said, pointing at  your heart with his finger. “But also here,” he added, grabbing your pussy. “You need me. No one can fuck you like me. That deep, right?”

You swallowed loudly. Fuck, you needed him, deep and rough. He probably saw it in your eyes, but instead of leaning in and kissing you, he grabbed his cigarette and lit it. He smiled as he let the smoke out.

“Come on baby, don't give me that ‘piss off’ look. I’m gonna give you what you want,” he said, pressing his hard cock against the fabric of his black pants and pushing himself against you. He turned the cigarette over to offer it to you, and you took a drag.

“Yeah, whatever,” you said.

“Had some good dicks in the last few weeks?”

“Fucked a few. Can’t say they were that good, though.”

“Awww,” he said dramatically, before adding, “you fucked them raw? Do I have to use a condom, baby?”

“No. You’re the only dick that I fuck raw.”

He chuckled and threw his cigarette on the ground. You rolled your eyes and in two seconds he was fully against you, crushing his lips against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks.

He was never aggressive or possessive, always beautifully sensual and free. No strings attached, and that's exactly what you needed. Someone who wouldn't ask you something you couldn't or wouldn't want to give.

Each time he’d kiss you, each time you’d fuck, you never knew if it was the last time. Didn't know if you'd end up getting bored with him like with everyone else. 

You doubted he would, on the other hand. He was always patient, never seemed to take your mood swings badly. He never said ’no’ to you, even if he knew you just needed to use him, somehow. Even if you were sometimes hard on him. 

He was probably right: he loved you in his own, unconventional way, and that twisted relationship was oddly the most stable part of your life.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he kissed your neck, your eyes already rolling to the back of your head just at the feeling of his soft mustache brushing your skin, then his rougher beard that he loved to rub against the soft skin of your neck. Just like he loved to graze it against your inner thighs each time he ate you out.

He straightened up to look at you then licked your lips with the tip of his tongue, your mind suddenly blank.

“Need it bad, huh,” he chuckled. It wasn’t a question. Yeah, you needed it bad, but still, you shrugged.

“Come on baby, let me in,” he said against your lips, his familiar tobacco breath invading your nostrils a little more. “And I'm not talking about your cunt, she’s already droolin’, right?”

You didn’t answer and just pulled away from him to lead the way inside your house, to the dining room. You could feel his eyes fixed on your ass. You didn't even have to sway your hips to know he'd follow you anywhere at that moment.

He pushed the front door behind him, quickening his pace to be right behind you and caress the roundness of your ass before seizing your hips to make you stop.

“Mmmm, baby… I never get enough of this body,” he murmured in your ear, his hard cock against you. You wanted to say something clever, or at least something with your usual “whatever” attitude, but his touch was overwhelming you.

He slid his hands up to your breasts and cupped them sensually, his nose against your hair, he breathed it in as he said, “damn you’re so hot,” almost to himself. 

He squeezed your breasts slightly, perfectly, then pulled down your neckline, freeing your nipples swollen by desire. His hand slithered down your spine to your ass and then he grabbed his bulge.

“Shit, I’m so fucking hard,” he said, his voice not as playful as usual. “Turn around baby,” he added. You did as he asked, trying to get your composure back as you looked up at him.

He cupped your tits again and took a nipple in his mouth. He sucked and licked it, making you whine “shit” softly, as you ran your fingers in his hair and pressed his face against your skin. He chuckled, so sure of himself, that he was even hotter than a second before, and sucked your other nipple. He coated it with his saliva then peppered your chest with kisses, up towards your neck and finally your lips, his tongue quickly pushed through yours, while he grabbed the hem of your short dress then pulled it over your head. He was in a rush and your head was dizzy.

His hands were rubbing your body as if he didn't know what to touch or where to stop, but he finally covered your pussy with his full hand, his fingers brushing the wet garment.

“Mmm yeah…” he said, and you didn’t take your eyes off him as he unbuttoned his shirt then freed his hard cock from his pants. The most gorgeous cock you'd ever seen, with a fat tip and a large vein that you loved to roll under your tongue.

“Come on, baby. I’ve been thinking about fucking your mouth since you called me,” he said, slowly jacking his thick cock with his fist, his stare full of lust. 

He was insanely beautiful and hot as hell, with his shirt open over his broad chest, two chains resting at the bottom of his neck. 

“Yeah? Well I’ve been thinking about cumming in yours since I called you,” you replied.

“Damn, you’re gonna kill me one day, you know that?” he smiled. 

“Mmm… clothes off, red flag guy,” you told him, then sat on the couch, feet firmly planted on the ground, legs spread. Shameless. 

Panties still on, you knew he loved to remove them himself. 

“And light me a cigarette, big boy, will you?”

You were in charge again. He was letting you be. 

A silent game between the two of you with rules that never needed to be stated.

He took his pack out of his shirt pocket and lit a cigarette then handed it to you, letting the smoke escape from him towards you. Then he undressed, slowly and sensually.

You watched him getting naked in front of you, dragging on your cigarette from time to time, arm resting along the backrest. He always made you feel safe, free, powerful.

He remained standing for a few moments, looking at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. His hard cock pointed towards the ceiling, slowly jacking off again after spitting into his palm. Even though the precum was flowing from his reddened slit.

He knelt down and placed his hands on your knees before moving up the inside of your thighs, the soft rub making you shiver. When he grabbed the hem of your panties, you lifted your hips to help him to pull them down slowly, revealing your glistening pussy and the butt plug you had inserted just before he arrived.

“Shit, baby…” his husky voice and eyes full of desire made you drool a little more. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

“Fuck… Take a drag, baby,” he asked, unable to take his eyes off your two holes. He spread your thighs wider by pushing on them with his shoulders. You exhaled the blue smoke slowly, looking down at him, kneeling between your thighs. So broad, so strong, but still at your knees, leaving you in full control of your femininity. It made him even more beautiful, even more attractive, even more sensual. He grabbed one of your thighs and kissed the sensitive skin, then placed it on his shoulder.

“Fuck you're so hot. A true free spirit, aren't you?”

He didn't let you answer and leaned down, running his nose up your folds. He growled as he licked them with the tip of his tongue, then moved away slightly to look at your cunt and ass.

He seized the plug and pulled on it slightly, until the widest part reached your ring, making you moan.

“Shit,” he said, unable to say more as he watched your muscle tighten every time the metal spread it apart.

“You always let them go down on you?” he asked, moving the plug deliciously back and forth, before sticking his tongue into your wet cunt. You let your head fall back against the back of the couch. He had always been a really good fuck, but he always ate you out divinely well, leaving you breathless as soon as he dived in.

“Mmm?” he insisted.

“Shit… you’re the jealous type now?” you pantered.

“No. It turns me on to think about it,” he answered, grabbing one of your breasts with his hands.

“Damn, Lucien you're twisted…” you whimpered. “Not always… shit… I… not all men are good at it,” you stammered. 

He chuckled, so sure of himself, pushing a finger into your cunt already stuffed by his tongue. It was like he was all over your body, boobs, pussy and ass, and it was intoxicating.

“I think you forgot about your cig, baby,” he said, teasing. He wasn't one of those men. Of course he wasn't. He was so good at this. 

You crushed the cigarette in the ashtray by the armrest. He was so good that sometimes he would make you come in less time than it took you to finish your cig. Then he’d grab it from your trembling fingers to take a drag while you were still trying to catch your breath. 

His hand left your tit to press your hip against the sofa and he pushed his tongue into your drooling hole. 

“Gonna come for me? Yeah, you're gonna come for me. Soak my face, baby girl.”

You used him to get off, rubbing yourself against his nose, hands tight on his head, thighs spread as wide as possible, giving him full access to your core. You were so aroused that some of your wetness was leaking down to the plug, making it even easier for him to fuck you with it.

“Lucien,” you whined. His hand tightened on your flesh, letting you use him like you needed until you came in his mouth.

He pushed two fingers in your cunt and looked the way your body was squeezing his thick digits pumping your cunt and the plug, until it finally stopped. 

He pushed the metal all the way in then stood up and brushed your cheek as you looked up at him and straightened up, his cock inches from your lips. He held it tightly and you licked his shaft from his fingers to his tip, unable to tease him more. He growled when you took him in your mouth, focusing on the tip at first then deeper and deeper, getting your throat used to his width, and your saliva started to flow down his shaft to his fingers. Your hand caressed his balls full of cum.

“Fuck yeah, just like that,” he murmured.

You pushed his hand from his shaft and jerked him off slowly, licking his balls that you could never resist for long. He whimpered when you took one of them in your mouth, the thin skin rolling between your lips. 

“You're so easy, Lucien,” you chuckled. It was your turn to make him fall apart, and you loved it.

“Shit, yeah, I'm easy with this damn mouth,” he agreed. “That’s it baby. Keep licking them.”

You pulled them up then tasted the skin behind them, gaze looking up at him but his eyes were closed, his hands resting on your head.

“You don’t want a cigarette, Lucien?” you bantered, then licked him again from his scrotum to his ass that you teased with the tip of your tongue.

“Fuck… I can barely breathe, no I can’t smoke right now, you little minx,” he whimpered as you took a ball in your mouth. You finally released it with a needy moan. Your core was already filled with warmth again and begging for release. 

“Shit, you need it deep, right? Wanna ride it?” he asked as he held your elbow to get you up.

“No, want you to fuck me.”

“Come here then, baby. All fours. Lemme see that ass.”

You settled and he knelt behind you, rubbing his cock against your soaked folds, before grabbing the plug and pulling on it slightly, making your ring contract instinctively as it was stretching you.

He chuckled, then mocked gently, “that’s cute. As if he doesn’t want to get fucked.” He nestled his fat tip at your sloppy pussy then pushed in, and you stopped breathing for a minute under the feeling of his cock splitting you in two.

“How do you need me, baby? Need me to fix you up for a while, until next time?”

You moaned, feeling him push in your two holes.

“Tell me,” he insisted, filling you with his whole length and brushing against your cervix.

“Yeah, fuck…. Yeah, I need you to fix me.”

“Damn, baby,” he said, pulling out to eat your pussy from behind, and he removed the plug to press his nose against your ass before coming up to lick it.

“Oh god,” you whined, eyes rolling in the back of your head and fists squeezing the sofa cushions. He spat on your ass and watched the saliva run down and slide inside before licking at it, pressing his tongue against it then pushing in. Your ass opened up to let him reach inside and you couldn’t hold back a loud moan as he was lapping at your hole.

He spanked you and focused his tongue on your most private place before grabbing your ass with his two hands. You wanted to beg him to stuff you until he’d fill you with his seed. 

“Lucien, please… Fuck me.”

He straightened up and pressed his tip against your cunt, pushing in slowly to let you feel all of him sliding in.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined.

Leaning on your forearms, you didn't move, letting him thrust into you, filling you so slowly that you could feel the vein of his cock brushing your insides.

“Oh, god, that’s good Lucien, fuck…”

“Yeah? Always takin’ me so good, baby…”

He started to fuck you, his thumb pressed against your ass, growls and moans escaping from his lips. He was watching you contract on his digit as he was filling your two holes. 

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Harder, please,” you whined.

You knew he would do it for you, in the way you needed, even though you knew he would want to take his time, to get you used to him. But he had quickly understood why you called him. Because he would answer your needs, because you were safe with him. Because his cock was so big it was perfect for what you were looking for, to forget everything else. He knew you were scared to be loved, or to love, and didn't want that kind of relationship. That this way of fucking was what you needed. For now anyway, and maybe forever. He always smiled when you called him a red flag, unaware of that game he was still playing for you. He could find it funny, how wrapped he was around your finger, although you didn't even know it. Or maybe you just didn't want to see it.

He was rolling into you, faster than he wanted. Harder than he wanted. Because if it was the only way he could have you, he would never say no. Because he knew you wouldn’t fall for him, and it was probably for the best.

“Fuck, baby… your little cunt is squeezing me so hard… You know I can never say no to you, right?” he asked, sliding his hand down to your clit, eager to make you come. His entire length was pushing in and out, fucking your insides like no one else could. Not as deep, not as wide.

“Make me come, Lucien, please,” you whimpered.

His balls squeezed him painfully, waiting to give you what you wanted. When you came, tightening on his cock so fucking hard, it was enough for him to spit his cum deep into your core while he panted even louder than you, mouth crushed against your shoulder, nibling at it, his weight pushing on your back. You leaned forward and felt his length leave your cunt and his cum flowed when you lay down on the couch, under him. Already feeling so desperately empty.

He leaned towards you and kissed you. He knew you didn't want more, and wouldn't allow more. Didn't want some bullshit proximity.

He sat on the couch, putting your calves on his lap, while you stayed lying there. He lit up a cigarette for you, then another one for him. You smoked them silently until he got up and put his clothes on.

“Till next time?” he asked.

“Till next time,” you replied.

Thank you for reading 🙏

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[moon-ttokki-x]

oh my god I’m stupid I requested 8, 9, and 39 for the SKZ prompt list but I forgot to ask for which member. Bangchan pretty please 🥺👉👈

hihi this took so long sorry >< . . . this is a lot more angsty than anticipated but i hope it works. i wrote it a little differently that i normally would, but here you go, love~~

stupidly perfect - (best friend!bang chan x reader)

pairing: bang chan x reader

summary: chan has never noticed how you feel for him, and one fateful evening, you let it all spill.

genre: angsty as hell, idol!au, reader lowkey enters their villain era, mentions of eating and drinking, overexcited maknaes, chan is kinda oblivious in this fic ngl, supportive felix, itzy mentions (yeji, ryujin, chaeryoung if that counts ig), this is super sad tbh

a/n: this took a while tbh . . . div by @ferretmilkshakezzz

⛓️ prompts: 8. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere." / 9. "You can rest now." / 39. "I can't keep pretending I'm fine."

skz masterlist | skz prompt list

"Y/n, do you wanna come to that ramen restaurant with us later?" Jisung tugs at your arm, skipping alongside you. "We've been wanting to go for ages, and we all finally have schedules off tonight."

"Yeah, come with us," Jeongin adds. "It'll be fun."

The maknaes are tagging all around you as you walk down the hallway, trying your best to keep a hold on all the papers you're carrying. It's difficult when they're fluttering around you like overexcited birds.

You'd taken the job at JYPE around four months ago; it was decided after a very long period of doubting and worrying that it wouldn't work out after what happened at your last workplace. But your best friend, Chan, had been super supportive throughout the whole thing, even offering to help you move into your little apartment down the road from the company. He'd brought some of his friends to help with the heavy lifting, and from there, you'd pretty much been adopted into the group he'd formed and was the leader of.

Not like you had a choice in the first place.

But you didn't mind; you'd been worried partly because of the fact that you wouldn't have any friends when you'd moved to this part of Korea; Chan had managed to inadvertently solve that issue without trying. Now, the four excitable boys skipped and bickered around you as you set down the papers on your office desk. Wiping the minimal sweat from your forehead, you sighed and pried Seungmin away from the trinkets neatly lining your bookshelf.

"Who else is going?" You ask as Jisung whines about you coming to the restaurant for the umpteenth time.

Seungmin shrugs, interrupting his friend. "All of the members, you, and a couple of the girls from our dance crew."

You feel your heart sink just as your brain tells you to agree; it's been ages since you went out with the guys, and you honestly couldn't wait for a break. Work was always stressful around comeback season, but you'd all settled into the rhythm of it soon enough. Spending an evening out with eight of your best friends eating some soul food sounded like a good idea. A better idea than spending the evening on the couch in your apartment, eating ice cream in complete silence. Alone.

You bite your lip, anticipating. "Which of the dance crew girls?"

Jeongin shrugs from the sofa, swinging his legs over a disgusted Seungmin's lap as he lounges back. "The usuals; Yeji, Ryujin, Young-hee, and Chae. Why?"

"No reason," you say, turning back to the bookshelf to unnecessarily reorganise something, fiddling with the solid fabric spine of one of your books. "I'll let you know if I'm coming. Now, clear out."

Your last comment doesn't bother the maknaes at all; they know you don't like your office being messed up, so they call goodbyes, and Jisung sneakily pokes your side as he filters out the door. Felix, however, remains.

You try to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest and keep a neutral expression as you turn the dark-haired boy. He looks so different from his usual blonde-haired countenance; however, no less beautiful, and not for the first time do you hold yourself back from carding your fingers affectionately through his hair.

You exhale. "Do you need something, Lix?"

He sits down on your chair, swinging it backwards and leaning his forearms across the back. An air of resignation flows around him. "You're not coming tonight, are you?"

You bite your lip. "I'll see."

His voice is quiet. "You've said that since Chae started hanging around us. Is it because of her?"

You scoff, dropping a pen. "No. Why would you think that?"

Felix leans forward on the chair, nosy. "It is because of her, isn't it? Do you not like her? Is it because of Chan-hyung?"

You whip around to face him, exasperated. The explanation bubbles out of you like molten lava from a temperamental volcano. "Okay, fine! I just- I can't stand seeing her around him. They're so close, and they always seem so wrapped up in each other-"

You cut yourself off then, not wanting to say anything you might regret. Chae is nice enough; she's never done anything explicitly hurtful towards you, though you secretly have suspicions that she doesn't like you at all. But you stay quiet, trying to dissipate the rising frustration blooming in your chest.

Felix is quiet.

You know he knows; he's known for ages about your little crush on his leader. You were afraid to tell him, once upon a time; but all you got in response from the affectionate chicken boy was a hushed giggle and a gentle encouragement to tell Chan how you feel. He hasn't told anyone else about your feelings, and you know he would continue to keep his mouth shut. But you wish, even just a little, that someone else would notice and find a way to get Chae away from your best friend.

"No wonder she likes him too," you say quietly to yourself, sinking into your office chair.

And it isn't a wonder, really. Chan is sweet, and gentle, and kind, and so, so, supportive and admirable. There's not a single flaw about him, except perhaps his slight dislike towards himself and his irritation when it comes to those soft, dark curls that frame his perfect face so perfectly-

You shake yourself out of it. Felix is still looking at you quietly, his head tilted in thought.

"You do know," he says carefully, "that you're closer with Chan that Chae is?"

"But still," you groan. "He always seems so much happier around her, and he always only talks to her when you all go out-"

"How would you know?" Felix cries, throwing his hands up. "You're not even there half the time, and Chan only talks to her because you're not there for him to talk to. He has to settle for her because he's fed up of us, and he's not close with Yeji, Ryujin, or Young-hee."

You sigh and hop up onto the desk, swinging your legs over the side. "I just can't stand it, Lix. Seeing them together..."

His expression softens. "I know, Y/n, and I know how frustrated you get when they're all over each other, but you have to at least try. Come with us. If not for him, then for us. We miss you."

"I'm right here."

Felix sighs softly. "That's not what I meant."

You rub two fingers along the bridge of your nose, trying to think straight. You can't get the images out of your mind; Chan and Chae giggling to each other, her touching his arm, him reciprocating the affection... no one said it would hurt this bad when you watch your best friend fall for someone else.

No one said it would hurt this much when you realise that you're in love with said best friend either.

"I can't keep pretending I'm fine," you say, so softly you're not sure Felix hears it. But he does.

"Then don't pretend," he urges gently. "Get him to fall for you. You're halfway there already, I'm pretty sure. But it's not gonna happen if you're always at a distance from him."

He has a point, you think. But, being as stubborn as you are, there's still that nagging doubt in the back of your mind that Chan will never feel the same way that you do, whether you're with him or not-

"Y/n," Felix says, a little more firmly.

You know exactly what he's thinking; sighing, and then bending down to pick up the pen you dropped earlier, you slot it back into the holder on the desk.

"Fine," you say quietly, trying and failing to hide the tiny smile twitching at the corners of your mouth. "I'll come."

Felix lets out a whoop.

.

You pull your jacket a little closer around yourself as you head round the corner, the evening wind whipping your hair into a state of extreme disarray. Sighing and then spluttering as you pull strands of it out of your mouth and eyes, you duck around people and head to the restaurant, its warm, golden light drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

You're not late, so to speak; you spot the group sitting at a large corner booth with comfy seats, mingling and chattering, and you notice Felix immediately. His face lights up when he sees you, half with relief and half with something else you can't quite decipher. He makes to get up before you're almost tackled to the floor by Jisung and Jeongin, who are pretty much hollering at the top of their lungs.

Minho shushes them insistently as he tugs them off you, bowing before shoving both maknaes back into their seats.

"Y/n," Jeongin says happily. "We didn't think you'd come."

You chuckle awkwardly and settle into the spot next to Felix, trying not to look around for Chan like you always do. "Yeah, I needed a break. Besides, you two would have come for my throat if I turned the invitation down one more time."

"Damn right," Jisung interjects, all three of you dissolving into giggles.

You look around then; not everyone is here. Hyunjin and Yeji are still missing, both Hwangs late as per usual, and you know Changbin will come by a little later, having decided to work out before treating himself for the evening. You make a mental note to stick to your work ethic as well as he does, but it's interrupted by the familiar tone of someone speaking your name.

"You look nice, Y/n," Chan says from next to Felix, who is sitting in between both of you.

Chae is sitting next to Chan, you notice with some sadness and displeasure; her long, pinky-blonde hair is straight and neat, long acrylic nails coming up to brush strands of it off her perfect porcelain cheeks, flushed with the cold. At least, you hope it's the cold and not the effect of Chan's probably flirting before you arrived.

Despite the indignance rising in your stomach, you can't help but notice how Chan looks tonight; his hair is slightly damp from the chilly weather outside, the adorably messy strands of it curling against his temples and nape. His eyes are crescents as he gazes into yours, and you fight the urge to reach over and wipe the faint remainder of strawberry milk off the curve of his plush bottom lip.

You know exactly where he'd bought the little drink carton of it from; there's a vending machine just down the street, one that the boys always buy drinks from before eating out. It was their tradition, and one that you gladly partook in, that is before you became too shy to be around the boys.

Because of Chan and his stupid perfectness.

You suddenly come back down to earth and realise that Chan is still gazing at you; Chae is laughing obnoxiously loud in the background behind him, no doubt to recapture his attention, but all you can focus on is the fact that you're locking eyes with the most beautiful person on earth. And also the fact that you haven't replied to his little indirect compliment, so you just nod and turn back to the table to fiddle with the menu in front of you.

Felix exhales discreetly and you fight a grin, watching as he unpeels himself from the corner of the table. He'd been bending over it so you could lean back to talk to Chan, and he pokes you affectionately in the side as you thank him quietly, clearing your throat in an attempt to get rid of the flush painting your cheeks.

"Could've warned me about how pretty he looks," you mutter to Felix under your breath. He just chuckles and touches your knee as everyone begins to order.

The food arrives just as Hyunjin, Yeji, and Changbin make their dramatically late entrance; they clatter noisily into their seats, and you bump fists with Yeji just as everyone begins to dig in.

There's brief silence as everyone begins to fill their stomachs with soul food, and then the chatter eventually rises again as the members turn to each other to bicker and laugh. You almost snort a noodle out of your mouth as you watch Hyunjin take a hairclip out of his bag to clip his hair back, before realising it's not there. Seungmin, sitting next to him, runs his hand through the boy's kiwi-like hair before turning back to his ramen.

You almost start to enjoy yourself, but there's still that lingering tension that you feel rests in the air between you and Chan; if anyone else has noticed it, they're not saying anything. Felix, noticing your quietness, tries to fill the space between you with small talk and jokes, but it doesn't seem to help. Once or twice, he even brings Chan into the conversation in a bid to try and get you two to converse, but Chae interjects more and more frequently until you quietly tell Felix to stop.

You feel bad because of it; you know he's just trying to help, but it isn't working. And it's beginning to make you feel worse, the fact that it seems not even the dark-haired sunshine boy can get his leader to try and talk to you. And you realise, all of a sudden, that maybe it's not Chan that's the problem.

There are two possible reasons that Chan doesn't seem to want to talk to you; you thought maybe he would talk more with you tonight, considering it's been so long since you've been out with them, but you're crestfallen as you realise that not more than a few words have been exchanged between the two of you tonight.

And it strangely breaks your heart.

The other reason is that Chae might have been badmouthing you behind your back to Chan, or it could be because of the fact that Chan genuinely likes her. You're not sure, but that belief is confirmed as you look across to see Chan holding out his chopsticks to her, bringing a piece of tempura to her perfect, pink lips.

Watching in horror and completely forgetting about the cooling ramen in front of you, you watch as Chae accepts the tempura with a little giggle, batting her lashes at Chan as he reaches up to wipe a crumb off her lip. The sight is so equally disgusting and upsetting that you immediately stand up, moving out of the booth as tears blur your eyes.

"Where are you going?" Jisung calls after you, Felix looking up from his food.

"Bathroom," you call over your shoulder, your voice surprisingly strong considering the fact that tears and beginning to stream down your cheeks.

Not wanting to make a fuss or arouse suspicion from the group, you do actually head to the bathrooms, locking the cubicle door behind you and sinking down against the door. You couldn't care less if it's dirty right now, the only thought in your head the mental image of your best friend and Chae giggling and flirting all over each other, blissfully unaware of your misery.

It's not fair.

"Maybe it's me," you whisper to yourself, sniffling as you rip off a piece of toilet paper, scrubbing at your face. You feel so pathetic and unworthy; what kind of person hides out in the bathroom crying over a guy who probably doesn't even care about them?

Standing up and checking you have your phone and wallet, you sigh as you feel the weight of them in your pockets. Good. You can just leave without having to go back to the table. The last thing you want right now is to talk to anyone, or have to put up a fake cheerful front.

Heading to the back of the restaurant, the once-inviting golden lights now feeling like a spotlight, you emerge out into the street, the cold wind soothing the hot, sticky tear irritation on your cheeks. You head to the parking garage down the street and try to walk as quickly as you can past the opening of the ramen restaurant, lest any of the group notice you walking away.

And they don't, not least until you cross the street and head down the dimly light footpath.

Someone grabs your wrist suddenly and you cry out, whipping your head back so fast to see who it is you think you might have whiplash.

Chan is standing there, his hand solid and warm around your wrist, the wind ruffling his dark hair back from his bare face. You can see the glint of his silver earrings under the streetlights.

"Wait," he pants. "Where are you going?"

You can't fight the hot, wet tear rolling down your cheek and inwardly curse it for escaping. "Home."

"Why?" He asks, concern and worry painting his expression. "Are you not feeling well?"

You fight the urge to slap him; it wouldn't be fair, however much you want to do it. He just doesn't understand. He doesn't understand any of it. And you want nothing more to run into his arms and spill all your thoughts and feelings like you have so many times before, but you can't.

Not this time.

You can't tell Chan that you've loved him since who knows how long; that seeing him makes your heart feel lighter, the way a high schooler might feel seeing their crush in the sunny hallways. You can't tell him how many times you styled your hair to look a little like his, hoping the curls that make him look so handsome might make you a little more attractive too. You can't tell him how many times you ran late for schedules just because you took a detour to his studio to talk with him, even if it was just for a minute.

Even if all of it was a waste in the end. Because he likes someone else, and that someone else isn't you.

So you just shake your head as the tears come streaming down, and rip your wrist out of his grip before turning and walking away. The earth feels like it's shattering around you.

Or maybe that's just your heart.

But Chan doesn't give up; you hear his footsteps continue behind you, hurried and irregular, like he's trying to decide whether to let you go or make you stay.

"Y/n," he pants. "Wait, just- will you stop walking so fast? Please, wait, slow down- What's wrong?"

"Everything's wrong!" You cry out, turning to face him as you throw your hands up. A sob rips through your lungs, face contorting with the force of your tears. "Okay? Everything's wrong."

Chan is silent, one hand out in an unsteady attempt to calm you. "What are you talking about? You're worrying me."

You scoff and kick a stone across the footpath, harshly rubbing a hand across your cheekbone.

"Y/n, please," he pleads, his voice quieter. "Felix noticed you were gone for too long earlier, and I saw you walking out of the restaurant. Please, tell me what's wrong. You look so upset."

"Then stop looking."

He recoils, looking slightly hurt, before it's overtaken by a look of determination. You know that look; it either results in an all-nighter to finish a song track, an attempt to wrangle seven naughty kids, or a hard-to-have conversation. You know it's the last one.

"Please," he says, even quieter. "Tell me what's wrong. Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

"It's you," you say, broken with utter resignation.

He takes a step forward. "What?"

"It's you," you repeat, looking away as another hysterical sob brings the wind inside your body. It's sharp and biting, and it brings back some of your courage. But only some.

You raise your eyes to look at him. Maybe this is the last conversation you'll have with Chan, before he decides he doesn't want to be around someone who's in a one-way love story with him. Even if that person is his best friend.

"You don't realise, do you?" You whisper brokenly. "You never realised I was in love with you, Chan. But that's just who you are. You may be kind and compassionate and intuitive, but you never realised why I do what I do, or why I act the way I act around you."

His face is contorted in utter disbelief; whether it's from shock or disgust, you don't want to know.

"I realised around the time you helped me move in," you continue. Might as well get all of it out now. "I looked at you differently after a while. I didn't see my best friend anymore. I saw someone else, someone stronger and more clever and more dedicated and more perfect and flawless. And it was strange, because I realised that you changed so much. Maybe I changed too, but it was different seeing you walking around at the company and going about your schedules, because I felt different about it all. I felt different about you. And I couldn't let it go, not least when we actually talked. I used to be late for most of my meetings and events because I would take detours to see you. Some days I would think about canceling my schedules just so I could be around you more.

"And I love the boys, I do, Chan. So much. But I have to admit, I wouldn't be around them half as much if you weren't there. I felt so drawn to you, not like the way I did when we were friends. I figured that if I didn't want to lose you, I would have to discipline myself. So I did.

"I threw myself into my work; I gave myself so much to do, partially to distract myself, partially to use work as an excuse whenever I was invited out, like tonight. Just because I knew you would be there, and I didn't want to end up spilling it all to you, because I knew it would ruin everything between us. Forever.

"And when Chae started hanging around us, I didn't mind at first; I sort of liked her. But I started hating her because of how close she would get to you, how much you two would secretly talk between yourselves, and it made me upset. So I ended up spending much more time by myself so that I would be able to forget she existed. So that I could forget that she ever entered the picture, and that it was just me and my secret that I kept from you. For so long, Chan. You have no idea how much I had to hold myself back from you.

"Did you assume that I never wanted to go out with you guys? That I never wanted to buy drinks from that vending machine the members always go to before eating out, or that I didn't want to spend time with you? Because I did, Chan. But I forced myself not to, because I couldn't bear to see you, and most of the time I didn't know if Chae was going to be there. I told myself I wasn't going to sit there and watch you be with her, not while I felt so invisible and unseen around you.

"Let me tell you something, Chan," you choke through sobs at him, pointing a finger at his chest as though it were a gun. "Every time Jisung or Jeongin or one of the boys invited me out, I did actually show up. Even if you never saw me. I would watch from a distance to see if Chae was with you; if she was, I would turn around and leave, and go home. If not, I would smile from around the corner as the maknaes begged you for money to buy drinks from that vending machine. And then I would turn around and go home anyway.

"I know every single one of their preferences; even if you didn't know I was there to observe them bickering and choosing, faces lit by streetlight. I would go around to the vending machines at the company and randomly buy their favourites for them, even if you didn't know how I knew. I would buy them for you too, and debate leaving a little note for you telling you how I felt alongside it, and I never did.

"Because, despite all of that, it was all a waste," you snap at him. You're not sure why you're angry; you suppose it's the result of feeling unheard for so long. "It was a waste, Chan. Because you never even noticed how I felt. So don't come chasing after me in the night like this like you care, because it was Felix who told you to come after me, Felix who noticed I had been gone for too long, not you of your own accord. And don't look worried or concerned either, because I've told you what's wrong, Chan, just as you asked. You can rest now."

You can barely see him through the blur of your tears.

"Y/n," he whispers, broken as you feel. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't care," you cry out at him, turning and storming in the other direction. And this time, he doesn't follow, still standing under the streetlight with his hand out, though you're not there to take it.

You sob bitterly as you almost flee around the corner, breaking out into a full-on run, like sprinting can fix the problem, fix your heart and your tears. It doesn't, however, and you feel worse as you bolt pass the crossing light, not caring about its colour. Later you will realise that running with blurry vision and a hysterical, heartbroken mindset was not the wisest idea.

You don't see the car speeding towards you until it's too late.

a/n: *laughs in writer*

[archangeldyke-all]

Hi Angel!! I first wanted to say that I love all your Sevika stories, they never fail to make my days better!

So, I've recently been thinking about little fucker and the twins a lot ((bc I found out I'm gonna be an aunt for twins :DD and it made me wonder how did Sev and Reader react to the news, like.. "what. WERE HAVING TWINS??? HOW." something like this lmao.

Not sure if you've already written something like this, but I've practically read all of your masterlists lmao. If you did feel free to skip cuz I have really bad short term memory ;))

oh my god that's so exciting!!! congrats auntie!!! i think i wrote a few little sentences about this in one of the first twins posts, but lets make it a full fledged story heheeh <3

(also as always with these stories, don't think too much about how the pregnancy happened. reader is trans, or has a magical strap, or it's just yuri magic. you choose hehe)

men and minors dni

for the first few days after sevika's pregnancy test coming back positive, you're both living in denial.

"how am i pregnant? i thought this was menopause! i thought i was done with all this shit!" sevika whines.

you giggle a little hysterically, then pull her into your arms. "i have no fuckin' idea." you say, blinking in shock. "holy shit. i actually knocked you up."

sevika giggles just as crazily in your hold. "congrats."

"i've been trying to get revenge on you for little fucker since you first knocked me up with her!" you laugh. sevika snorts and smacks your shoulder.

"don't say revenge. oh fuck, this is gonna miserable, isn't it?" sevika whines. you kiss her sweetly.

"it's the most amazing thing that's ever happened!"

"you're such a shit. you're just happy it isn't you this time around."

"damn right i am!" you laugh. sevika smiles at you, and then her face falls. you coo and wrap her up in another hug. "it's gonna be alright sevi-bear. i'm gonna be with you every step of the way."

"no, it's not that." sevika whimpers as she nuzzles against your shoulder. "i'm just-- i'm so happy. we're gonna have another one, baby, holy shit."

you grin and pull sevika in for a kiss.

her reaction isn't quite as happy when you get to your doctor's office, though.

"o-oh!" the ultrasound tech gasps.

"good 'oh?'" sevika worries, sitting up a bit from her spot on the paper covered exam table.

"you're having twins, mommies! congratulations!" the tech gasps, grinning up at you and sevika.

you blink.

the tech giggles with glee and turns back to her monitor, clearly handling the news better than you are. you blink again, then look down at sevika.

she's glaring at you like she's going to murder you.

it's only now that the tech's words hit you. and for some reason, you burst into laughter.

"t-twins?!" you cackle. "like, two of 'em?! how-- how the hell did we do that!?" you ask.

the tech blinks up at you in surprise, opens her mouth to speak, but you don't hear her answer. you're too busy grinning down at your wife.

"i'm gonna kill you." sevika finally whispers. you burst into another round of laughs.

"alright. just wait 'til after the pregnancy, think you might want me around these next few months, mama." you tease.

sevika's glare is deadly, but you can't find it in you to stop laughing. holy shit. two more little babies running around your house. if they're anything like their sister, they'll look exactly like sevika. tears well up in your eyes as you gaze lovingly down at your angry wife, imagining two pairs of grumpy baby eyes glaring up at you while you try to change their diapers.

"are you crying?!" sevika squawks. "why the hell are you crying, i should be the one crying!"

"you can cry too, baby!" you giggle, a surge of love taking over your body. before you know what's happening, you're smacking the tech's hand away from your wife's belly and straddling her waist, peppering her face with an endless barrage of kisses. "oh, holy shit, baby, we're gettin' two more of 'em!"

sevika's glare lessens a bit, a small smile ticking up at the corner of her mouth. you can see her softening to the idea; two more babies for you to love; but before a full smile can take over her face she forces herself back into a frown. "we can barely afford the kid we've got." she huffs.

you snort. "that's the beauty of hand-me-downs, sev. plus, silco gave you a big raise when we had the little fucker, what makes you think he'll hold back now that it's your turn?"

"we live in a two bedroom home!"

"we can move!"

"while i'm pregnant with twins?!"

"i'll start looking for a new place the second we get home."

sevika finally smiles, rolling her eyes and giggles a bit. "i can't believe you." she whispers. you grin.

"you're the love of my fucking life. i can't believe you."

the door clicks shut, and you both look up from your embrace to find that the tech has snuck out to give you some privacy.

and, finally, sevika bursts into laughter along with you.

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3 @lesbones

@chezze-its @lez-zuha @vikashoneybee @shanesevikasfuckdoll @imheadintothemountains

@nanajustnana-a @helaenabugmom

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

[loveesiren]

Hi lovely. Hope youre having a great weekend. I had short question. I love your writing and was wondering if you do requests? If so could I ask for one where y/n meets GD's cats for the first time. Theyre both nervous but it goes great.

If not, sorry for asking

Have a great rest of your weekend<3

Ｚｏａ'ｓ Ｆａｖｏｒｉｔｅ

a/n: Oh my sweet angel, if only you knew the creativity this request sparked for me!! I even had to add some SMAU to it! Thank you so much for sending me the cutest request! I hope I did it justice!

Also, I just got a new phone and all my fake social apps got deleted so sorry if they're wack lol

synopsis: Jiyong finally decides that the girl he's been dating should meet his precious babies, and he's blown away by the result.

warnings: FLUFFFF, alochol, language, very light mention of sex, still SFW

wc: 3.2k+

Soft music filled the car as you tapped your fingers against the steering wheel, your stomach twisting with nerves. The GPS on your phone read you were five minutes away, and suddenly, the reality of where you were going sank in deeper.

You and Jiyong had been officially together for two months, though the pull between you had been there long before. Late-night texts that stretched until morning, goofy pictures exchanged on Snapchat, secret moments stolen at his shows. But privacy mattered—to both of you. Being in the public eye made everything more complicated, so you took your time, let things unfold naturally. And you liked it that way.

But tonight was different. Tonight, he had invited you to his home.

It was a big step, one that spoke volumes. Jiyong was careful about his personal space, rarely letting people in. More often than not, he preferred to meet somewhere neutral or come over to your place instead. His past had taught him to be guarded, to protect the things he held closest. That included his home. That included his cats.

Princess Zoa and Iye weren’t just pets to him; they were family. And the fact that he was willing to introduce you to them—on their turf—meant more than words could.

You exhaled sharply as you pulled up to his building, quickly sending him a text to let him know you’d arrived. Within moments, your phone buzzed, and you saw his response:

Come up. Already called it in. Park next to me.

Of course, his building had top-tier security. Nothing less was expected.

You found his spot and eased your car into place beside his, gripping your bag as you took a couple of steadying breaths. Just as you turned to get out—

"Ahh!" You yelped, heart slamming against your ribs.

Jiyong stood outside your window, a smug grin on his face, clearly proud of himself for making you jump.

"You’re a dick!" you huffed as he opened the door for you, still chuckling.

“Mmm, sorry,” he murmured, clearly not sorry at all. His hands found your waist, pulling you in effortlessly as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Missed you.”

Your fingers curled into his hoodie as you smiled. “Missed you too, JiJi. I’m really excited you invited me over.”

He hesitated for a second, then let out a breath, his lips quirking up in a nervous smile. “I just... trust you.” His voice was quieter now, more serious. “I want to share this part of me with you.”

That made your heart do an embarrassing little flip. You bit your lip, trying—and failing—to suppress a grin. You were head over heels for this man.

"Come on," he said, grabbing your bag from the car before lacing his fingers through yours. "Let's go."

Inside the elevator, he swiped a key card, granting access to the penthouse suite. A comfortable silence settled between you as the numbers climbed, Jiyong absentmindedly toying with the ends of one of your long braids.

When the doors finally slid open, he led you down the hall to his front door. He hesitated, scratching the back of his head.

"Uhh… it’s been a while since I’ve had someone… new over,” he admitted.

You squeezed his hand gently. “As long as you want me here, Ji, that’s all that matters.”

“I do!” he said quickly. Then, after a beat, “Zoa and Iye might be a little nervous, though…”

You chuckled. “That’s okay. I promise to be on my best behavior.”

A soft pink dusted his cheeks as he bit his lip. God, he was adorable.

“Okay,” he breathed, then unlocked the door, pulling you inside.

Your eyes widened as you took in your surroundings. You had seen glimpses of his place through Snapchats before, but nothing prepared you for seeing it in person. It was an effortless blend of artistic chaos and meticulous minimalism—every piece carefully curated, every detail intentional. The sleek furniture, the carefully arranged artwork, the shelves lined with vinyls and rare collectibles. It was stunning.

“Damn,” you muttered, turning in slow circles. “You really put my place to shame.”

Jiyong laughed as he placed your bag on the couch. “I like your place,” he said. “It’s homey.”

"Ji, I had no idea you were this clean and organized.” You teased.

"I’m not," he admitted with a smirk. "The cleaners came this morning. Gabriella has been cleaning up my messes for years. Bless her heart.”

You shook your head, grinning as he sauntered toward you, fingers grazing your exposed hip, playing with the waistband of your pajama pants.

“Can I get you a drink?” he murmured, his smirk deepening.

"Please," you teased, matching his energy.

He led you toward the kitchen, rambling about drinks and dinner. But before he could finish his sentence, a soft brush of fur against your leg made you pause.

“Hi, Princess Zoa!” you cooed, crouching down as the elegant gray cat moved gracefully around you, rubbing her face against your outstretched hand.

Jiyong blinked. “No way. She was hiding before you got here…”

You beamed, gently scratching behind her ears. “She’s so sweet! I love her already.”

And just like that, the tension in Jiyong’s shoulders eased. His lips curled into something soft, something real.

Yeah. This was a big step. And it felt right.

Jiyong handed you a drink—a simple vodka soda, but he knew it was your favorite. That small detail alone made your chest tighten in the best way. You took slow sips as you followed him through his home, the quiet intimacy of the moment settling over you like a warm blanket.

He showed you everything. His personal recording studio, where half-finished lyrics and melodies lived. The spare bedrooms, each one somehow still curated with his impeccable taste. The breathtaking view from the balcony, where the city stretched out endlessly beneath you, glittering like a dream. And finally—his bedroom.

This was your favorite.

His presence was everywhere in this space, woven into every little detail. The artwork, a mix of chaotic genius and sentimental treasures. Clothes draped over the back of a chair, half-folded laundry on the bed—tangible proof that he lived here, existed here. His knick-knacks, collected from different parts of his life, told a story only he could tell. It was personal. It was beautiful.

Something on his bedside table caught your eye, drawing you closer. A photo. A small, colorful rock. You picked them up, curiosity humming in your chest.

“What’s this?” you asked, turning the photo over in your hands.

Jiyong chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s, uh… a picture Daesung took of us. From that beach party a few months back.”

The moment flooded back instantly. That warm summer night, the waves crashing in the distance, music thrumming through the air. You and Jiyong, tipsy and tangled in laughter, dancing with the kind of reckless abandon only a new connection could bring. You’d forgotten Daesung had been running around with a camera, documenting the night in blurry snapshots of joy.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as your thumb brushed over the image. That night was when it had really started for you—the way Jiyong had held you close, how he never stopped making you laugh, how gentle he was even in the midst of chaos.

You glanced at the small rock in your other hand. “And this?”

Jiyong grinned, taking it from you, rolling it between his fingers like it was something precious. Because it was, to him. “This, my dear, is the first gift you ever gave me.”

You blinked. “It is?”

“Mmhmm.” His eyes gleamed with amusement. “Remember that time you called me drunk, asking if I could pick you up? You got in my car, all excited because you found a rock that ‘matched my hair.’” He mimicked your voice playfully. “You put it on my dashboard, declared it a masterpiece, and passed out before I even made it to your street.”

Your face heated. “Oh my god.” You covered your face with your hands, groaning. “Jiyong… you kept my drunk gift?”

“Of course.” His voice softened. “I have it in my pocket at every show. It’s my good luck charm.”

Your heart swelled, emotions tangling in your throat as you looked up at him. “You really are the kindest man I’ve ever met, you know that?”

He smiled, that soft, intimate kind of smile that made your stomach flip. “Can’t help it with you…”

His lips met yours, slow and sure, his hands finding your waist and pushing you toward the bed. Your back hit the mattress as his lips traced along your jaw, down the curve of your neck, making warmth pool in your stomach. You tangled your fingers in his hoodie, pulling him closer—

A sharp bap landed right on Jiyong’s head.

“Ow, Zoa!” he yelped, rubbing the spot where his beloved cat had just smacked him.

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth as Zoa hopped onto your lap, settling comfortably. 

“Oh, you think this is funny?” Jiyong shot you a mock glare, eyes twinkling with amusement. He sat up as Zoa curled into a loaf on your stomach, kneading at your shirt like she had claimed you for herself. “Did my cat just cockblock me?”

“Shhh, don’t say those words in front of the baby!” you scolded, scratching behind Zoa’s ears.

Jiyong scoffed. “Wow. Okay. I’ll just fuck off then.” He stood dramatically, shaking his head as he made his way to the kitchen.

You couldn’t stop laughing as you carefully moved Zoa to the side, hopping off the bed to chase after him, the cat trotting behind you.

“Hmmm, later, Oppa,” you hummed, wrapping your arms around him from behind. “Let’s watch our show.”

He sighed dramatically but smiled as he turned in your arms, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Fine.”

The two of you curled up on the couch, a thick blanket draped over your legs as Breaking Bad flickered onto the screen. Jiyong’s hand rested on your thigh under the blanket, absentmindedly tracing patterns against your skin.

Zoa stretched out across your lap, already fast asleep, and moments later, a soft meow announced the arrival of another visitor.

“Iye!” Jiyong grinned, patting his lap. The sleek gray cat hesitated before slowly making her way over, her small paws pressing into his legs as she perched there, still wary of you.

She craned her neck, sniffing at your arm cautiously before pulling back.

“Hi, Iye,” you murmured, keeping your voice gentle. You let her come to you, holding out your hand for her to investigate. She gave a single curious sniff before rubbing her face against your fingers—just once—then retreating back to Jiyong’s lap.

“At least you still love me, huh?” he cooed, scratching under her chin.

Iye kept sneaking glances at you as the show played, inching ever so slightly closer with each passing minute.

Jiyong leaned against your shoulder, exhaling a long drag from his vape as he glanced toward the window. The sun was beginning to dip below the skyline, painting the city in soft gold.

“You hungry, babe? I can start dinner.”

You stretched, sinking deeper into the cushions. “Mmm. What’re we having?”

“Lobster,” he said casually.

Your head snapped toward him. “Lobster?” You scoffed. “Jiyong, how fancy. I should’ve worn a cocktail dress.”

“As much as I’d love that, Jagi,” he mused, standing up, “nothing beats sitting on my couch in pajamas with my gorgeous girlfriend, eating lobster with no judgment. We can be as messy as we want.”

You leaned against the couch, watching him with a warmth spreading through your chest.

“God, I love you…” you murmured, without thinking.

Jiyong froze mid-step, turning sharply to face you, his expression unreadable.

“What did you just say?”

Your eyes widened. “Shit, I mean—” You stammered, face heating. “Ah, fuck.”

“No, no, don’t take it back.” He crossed the room in seconds, dropping onto the couch beside you. His hands cupped your face, his eyes searching yours. “Say it again.”

Your heart pounded. “I said… I love you.”

His lips crashed against yours, deep and urgent, a raw kind of emotion surging between you. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you, too.”

You let out a breathy laugh, shy but filled with absolute joy.

Jiyong grinned, standing abruptly. “Okay, I’m gonna go make you the best dinner ever. Because I fucking love you and you fucking deserve it.”

You laughed as he dashed toward the kitchen, grabbing your phone with trembling fingers to text your friends.

Laughter echoed through the kitchen as you and Jiyong moved in perfect sync, playfully bumping into each other while prepping dinner. The rich aroma of butter and garlic filled the air, mingling with the sharp scent of freshly squeezed lemon. His two cats sat perched on the counter, their sharp eyes tracking every movement, their tails flicking lazily as if silently judging your cooking skills.

“Babe, they’re totally waiting for us to drop something,” you giggled, nudging Jiyong as he reached for another ingredient.

“They’re opportunists,” he scoffed, turning to Zoa. “Aren’t you, Princess? You’re not slick.”

The gray cat blinked at him, unimpressed, before returning to watching your every move.

The two of you tossed back shots between chopping, stirring, and sneaking bites of food. Each time the tequila burned your throat, Jiyong was there with a teasing smirk, leaning in to steal a quick, lingering kiss that tasted of citrus and salt. You felt light, the alcohol buzzing in your veins, but it wasn’t just that—it was him. This moment. This feeling of being completely and utterly alive.

“Voila!” Jiyong announced dramatically, placing the finished dish on the counter with a flourish. His grin was downright giddy, like a little kid proud of his creation.

You clapped your hands together, eyes lighting up as you took in the masterpiece before you. “Holy shit, babe. This looks amazing.”

Jiyong preened under your praise, already reaching for a piece of lobster and popping it into his mouth.

“Should we sit at the table?” you asked, glancing toward the neatly set dining area.

“Fuck no,” he said through a mouthful of food. “Couch. Show. Now.”

You giggled, warmth blooming in your chest. You had finally found someone who matched your energy—who understood the joy of ignoring formalities in favor of what truly mattered.

Plates in hand, you both made your way back to the couch, curling up under the softest blanket as Breaking Bad resumed on the screen. Every so often, Jiyong would feed you a bite, and you'd do the same for him, laughing when he dramatically moaned about how good it was. The alcohol settled over you like a warm embrace, your limbs heavy, your mind blissfully light.

At the edge of the couch, Zoa and Iye sat patiently, their eyes fixed on the two of you, hoping for a dropped morsel.

“Sorry, ladies,” you teased, waving a lobster claw in front of them. “This one’s all ours.”

Jiyong chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. His body was warm against yours, his scent a mixture of cologne, blueberry vape juice, and something inherently him. You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling completely and utterly at home.

It hit you then—how much you loved him. How he wasn’t just your boyfriend. He was your best friend. The person you could be unapologetically yourself around. No pretense, no walls. Just laughter, love, and this perfect, ordinary, extraordinary moment.

By the time dinner was finished, the two of you had knocked back a few more shots, and your bodies had melted further into the cushions. The warmth of the alcohol, the lull of the TV, and Jiyong’s steady breathing made your eyelids heavy. Even the cats had settled into slumber, Zoa curled up at your feet while Iye stretched out on the back of the couch.

Jiyong shifted beside you, his lips grazing your temple as he whispered, “Can we finish the show in my room?”

You hummed in agreement, unable to form words in your sleepy haze.

With an exaggerated groan, Jiyong forced himself up, stumbling slightly before pulling you to your feet. The two of you giggled as you made your way to the bedroom, tripping over each other’s steps, hands wandering, lips meeting between bursts of laughter.

As soon as you passed the threshold of the bedroom door, it was a tangle of limbs, clothing being shed in lazy, drunken movements, laughter giving way to slow, heated kisses.

Jiyong took his time with you, his hands mapping the curves of your body like he was committing you to memory. Every touch was reverent, every kiss deep and lingering. The world outside ceased to exist—the only thing that mattered was this, the warmth of his skin against yours, the way your bodies fit together like a puzzle that had finally found its missing piece.

There were moments of whispered confessions between soft moans, giggles breaking the tension as you both found yourselves too tipsy to be completely coordinated. But none of it mattered. All that mattered was that he was here, with you, holding you like you were the best thing he had ever known.

Because to him, you are.

Afterward, tangled in the sheets, Jiyong pulled you close, his arms securing you against him as he pressed lazy kisses to your shoulder. You sighed in contentment, nuzzling deeper into his embrace.

“G’night, JiJi,” you murmured sleepily.

He hummed against your skin, his lips still brushing over you. “Night, baby girl.”

Within moments, sleep claimed you both.

-

Jiyong was the first to wake.

A groggy groan left his lips as he scrubbed a hand over his face, his body still heavy with sleep. The golden morning light filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows over the room.

When he turned over, his breath caught.

You were still fast asleep, your hair spilling across the white sheets, your lips slightly parted as the softest snores escaped.

Nestled under your arm, Zoa was curled into the smallest ball, her tiny frame rising and falling with each peaceful breath.

Jiyong felt his heart clench.

He had never been a morning person, but waking up to this? To you? He could get used to that.

A quiet meow pulled his attention, and he shifted his gaze to Iye, who sat perched on the pillow beside your head. The slender cat stretched lazily, then turned to look at him.

Jiyong raised an eyebrow. “Well?” he whispered, as if Iye would actually respond.

The cat let out a soft chirp, then glanced at you.

And then, in the smallest of gestures, she leaned forward and rubbed her face against your cheek before settling back down.

Jiyong blinked.

That was it. That was the moment.

He grinned, shaking his head in disbelief as he ran a hand through his messy hair. Iye, his most reserved, most particular baby, had just given you her silent approval.

He exhaled a quiet laugh, his gaze drifting back to you.

The love that swelled in his chest was almost too much.

He reached over, brushing a few strands of hair from your face, his fingertips barely grazing your skin.

“God, I love you,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

And in that moment, with the sun painting you in gold, his cats nestled around you, and his heart feeling fuller than it ever had—Jiyong knew.

He had found his forever.

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

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[tubattutu]

Heyyy!! I hope I'm not annoying youu. Could you do Soobin teaching his innocent virgin girlfriend how to give a blowjob?? This has been stuck in my headdd //By the wayyy I'm the same anon with school problems and I really f up in maths and hey I became a school prefect yayyyy!!!!

hii!! answering this a little late but don’t worry i do too maths is my biggest enemy 😭

cw: virginfem!reader, blowjob, praise kink, cum eating, established relationship

you always found the fact that you were a virgin and not your boyfriend embarrassing. you both hadn't even done anything before, until now.

tonight, your loving boyfriend had invited you to come over to his apartment since he'd be lonely. obviously with no doubt you accepted the invite, got your things ready and drove over to his apartment building.

a while after you got there, you both honestly just cuddled in his bed and watched movies while you munched on your favourite snacks and chocolates.

the movie you two were watching was this rom-com you randomly decided to put on since it felt like there were barely any good movies or shows on netflix anymore. though it seemed quite corny and stupid, the more intimate parts of the movie seemed to get you both into the mood.

it was like one minute you both were fully immersed into the movie in eachothers arms snacking, and then the next you two were making out.

you both had always went no farther then just making out. i mean, he did grope your tits and stuff like that, but nothing further out of your comfort zone. tonight though, you felt a little bored of it.

you pulled away in the middle of the kiss, and almost out of breath you spoke;

"can we... try something a little different tonight?"

"like what baby?" soobins eyebrows furrow in confusion, though he was intrigued. but he wasn't expecting your next words,,,

"i want to go down on you."

it honestly surprised him to say the least. it wasn't that he wasn't down for it, he just always thought you never were into that. maybe it was out of your comfort zone?

"i- yeah, of course.." he stammers a bit, his cheeks flushed a soft, pale pink.

"but i don't know how to... give you a blowjob.." you mumbled out sheepishly, a very clear embarrassed look on your face. he thought your words and cute, embarrassed face were adorable.

"i can teach you..." at his offer, you felt like your cheeks turned as red as a tomato.

“please do..” he chuckled at your eager request and kissed your lips again, squeezing your hip.

“well, if you want to suck me off you gotta take my pants off huh?” he grinned at your flustered face.

you blush more if even possible, before your hands reach over to slide down his sweatpants and boxers. your eyes light up at the sight of his already hard cock popping out from his boxers.

you shift and move so you were between his legs on the bed, your hand slowly and hesitatingly starting to stroke his length.

at that he let out a soft moan, his head falling back against the plush pillow. “fuck..”

your lips curl into a small smile at his noises of approval. you were nervous what to do next, and it was clear to him.

“are you sure youre ready to do this baby?” he asks, needing reassurance as to him it looked like you weren’t sure of all of this. but you knew you we’re definitely ready.

all you did was nod, and then you lowered your head down, giving small kitten licks to his tip. he gasps quietly and bucks his hips up on instinct, biting his bottom lip at the sensation.

“fuck baby..” he groaned, hissing as you, without hesitation, took him inside your mouth, letting your warm and wet tongue and mouth engulf around his dick.

“oh fuck- just like that baby..” he moaned prettily, his hand resting on the back of your head as he helped guide your head up and down his dick.

you felt yourself becoming wet in your panties at his moans and praises, bobbing your head up and down with your eyes closed, your tongue swirling around his cock.

“doing such a good job for me baby..” he praises once more, his breath heavy and his legs subtly twitching at the sensations.

you lower your head again just slightly, taking him deeper in your wet mouth, moaning around his dick as you felt his tip brush against the back of your throat. he moaned a bit louder at that, head falling back again. it felt as if he almost came right then and there.

you pull away to breathe, panting softly before running your tongue up along his cock, looking up at him with doe eyes. seeing you like that to him made him want to take you right at that moment.

his breath hitches once you take him back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down softly and moaning against him again. the sensation left him speechless everytime.

“f-fuck.. im gonna cum.. dont stop..” he breathed out, moaning in bliss as his chest rises up and down at a quick pace.

you pull away, stroking his cock quickly and swirling your tongue around his tip, until he finally reaches his orgasm, his cum spurting up onto your face and into your mouth.

[strang3lov3]

Breathing Exercises

“You just lay there, pretty girl,” Roman instructs, pushing his finger further past the fabric of your panties. He can feel the fucking heat radiating from your pussy. “Do not move, do not talk, and do not think,” he says quietly, drawing his finger up and down your seam. “Nod if you understand, baby.”

WARNINGS - softdom!roman, smut, dubcon/noncon, intox kink (usage of weed), unprotected piv, oral sex, dacryphilia, anxiety, greening out, finger sucking, daddy kink, romey turns you into his brain dead little fuck sleeve and talks all slow and gentle to you, but is also kinda scarydaddy and mean, aftercare, little bit of a horrorfucky situation.

A/N - Heyyyyyyyy romey readers ♡ been a minute since i've written romey on his own!! february kinda sucked for me, sorry. anywho. you guys have to let me know if you wanna see stepdaddy after this or if you want more one shots or uhh... 1cky br0ther!romey. or gyno!romey. havent forgotten him either!

Roman’s been watching you fidget for the past forty-five minutes, the way you always do sometimes. You’ve been having more of these moments lately, or maybe it’s just that Roman’s only now noticing. It’s a whole lot of pacing, bouncing, and generally moving your body. You’re anxiously checking your phone, turning it off, then checking it again.

The floor creaks as you stand up and walk towards the other side of the room. Roman watches you fill a crystal glass with water from the matching carafe, drink it all, then repeat the action. When you’re done, you just kind of…stand there, bouncing on your toes a little. 

“You’re hovering,” Roman deadpans. 

“What? Oh, sorry.” 

“Sit down,” he tells you. “Watch some fuckin’...” Roman trails off as he looks around himself for the remote, then changes what’s on TV. “–Here, perfect. Parks and Rec. You love that shit, don’t you?”

You just barely nod as you sit down at the middle of the bed, back straight, legs tightly crossed. Roman’s lying on his side behind you, admiring the elegant curve of your waist for a lingering moment. 

He does his best to understand you, to empathize with you, but he just…doesn’t get it. Your whole fuckin’...thing. He gets it, logically. He can make sense of how your anxiety works. He just doesn’t feel it the way you do, and he doesn’t really quite know what to make of it, being on edge with no immediate threat around. How very odd.

Roman thinks sometimes about taking advantage of your body when you’re like this, all anxious the way you are. You’d be so fucking tight, he imagines. Your eyes frozen in fear as he slides into you. Arousal and fear kind of feel the same at a certain point, right? Heart racing, skin dampened with sweat, the tingle in your bones and the fluttering in your stomach. 

Roman waves away the thought. Not that he gives a shit, but it wouldn’t be right. A cheap shot, really. You’re worse tonight, worse than you’ve been in a while. Another time. You need something different from him, he decides.

“Psst.” Roman taps you gently with his foot, and chuckles when he startles you. “You’d make a better door than a window,” he teases.

“I’m s - I’m sorry. I’ll - I’ll–”

Roman sits up and crawls across the bed, then gently lies next to you. “You’re pretty wired, huh?” he asks through a smirk, resting the side of his face on his fist. 

You smile sheepishly. “Yeah,” you answer, looking down at him. “I’m sorry.”

“You get like this a lot, don’t you? All restless and whatever. Fuckin’ amped.”

“Sometimes,” you mumble. Roman makes a face at you, silently telling you to elaborate. “Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t used to feel this way. I just get kind of, yeah. Wired, like you said, from time to time. It’s worse with caffeine,” you add, laughing awkwardly. 

Roman nods slowly, his hazel eyes sparkling under the low light. “What makes it better?”

“Mmm…sleep, maybe? That’s if I can sleep,” you chuckle. “Doesn’t always happen.”

“So you just don’t come down sometimes. You just stay like this.” You shrug while nodding. “Wow. That can’t feel good,” Roman says. 

“No, it doesn’t,” you agree, sighing a little. The anxiety starts to bubble up again, but you’re grateful for the moment away from it talking with Roman afforded you. “You don’t feel this way?” you ask, tucking your knees into your chest. “Like, ever?”

Roman shakes his head. “Nope. But I mean…I could make it go away, if you want.” 

“Breathing exercises? Because if that’s your suggestion, I’ve tried them and–”

“Nah. Well,” Roman tilts his head, then says, “Kinda.” 

Roman slides off of bed and enters his closet, shuffling through items. Sure, fucking you when you’re all anxiety ridden would be something. Violent, exciting, all that shit the darkest parts of himself craves. But fucking you stoned out of your mind, now that’s something else entirely. Getting you all high and fuzzy brained, you’re drooling into the pillows as Roman turns you into his own stupid little cock sleeve. 

He returns to you with a slick-looking device in his hand. 

“What’s that?”

“Cart,” he answers, and you look lost. “You’ve never seen one before?”

You shake your head. “I don’t even know what that is.” 

“It’s weed, dummy. C’mon. Keep up.” 

You look momentarily stunned, and Roman smirks as the gears turn in his head. “I appreciate it, Rome, but I really–”

“Oh, yes you will. C’mon, just hit it. It’s just a little fuckin’ weed, yeah? Nature’s remedy. It’ll cure what ails you, princess. All that anxiety, gone.” 

You’re skeptical. “That’s really weed?” 

“Mhm.”

“The kind that makes you relax?” 

Roman laugh. “No, it’s the other kind - yes, it’s the kind that makes you relax. Let me ask you, have I ever not delivered? Have I ever once steered you wrong?”

 “A lot, actually.” 

Roman laughs. “Okay, well, you can trust me now, alright? Hey - you’re gonna feel good. Now hit the pen, you fuckin’ loser.” 

Roman tosses you the battery, and it lands on the bed. He sits next to you as you inspect it, the shiny, sleek design, internally giggling as he knows how fucking potent this one is. You tuck your hair behind your ear and shake your head, then hand it back to him. “I’m okay, Roman. I don’t even know how to work this shit. And it’s been so long since I’ve smoked.”

“Oh my god, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” Roman grins, and it makes you feel even more insecure. He holds out the pen to you, wiggling it a little. “Just do it, sweetheart. Give it a try.” 

“I don’t think so,” you mumble, shifting in place, watching him toy with the device. He twirls it between his fingers, and presses the button a couple of times to make it light up, the multicolored glow illuminating his hands in pretty shades of violet, red, and blue.  

“I’ll even go first, yeah? Here–” Roman takes a hit of the pen, breathes in deeply and holds it, then lets the smoke seep through his nose with a steady exhale. He coughs a little, then giggles in amusement. “Now it’s your turn.”

“It’s alright, Roman. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, give me a break. You’ve sucked on a Juul before, right? It’s the same thing. You can do it. I know you can do it.”

Roman’s gaze is heavy and intense. His eyes are dark, but there’s something soft there, too. Comforting, probably deceptively so. You rest your chin on top of your knees, biting down on your shy smile. “Mmm,” you hum, contemplating. There’s something thick in the air. It’s electric, heavy and energetic.

Roman chuckles at your hesitation. “You are such a fucking pussy,” he taunts, rolling his eyes in mock disappointment. “But that’s fine. We’ll just do it the other way.”

“What’s the other way?”

“You’ll figure it out,” he murmurs softly, wearing another devilish smirk. Roman moves closer to you on the bed, mattress dipping with his weight, then wraps both of his hands around your ankles. He tugs on them gently, pulling you out of your curled-up position by setting your legs flat against the bed. He lays your torso against the mattress next, your heart pounding and fingers trembling as he hovers over you, caging you in.

“Roman–” 

“Shh…you’re in capable hands. You know that.” Roman takes your chin between his fingers and tilts your face, then brings the pen to his lips, raising an eyebrow as you shy away beneath him. He’s so, so fucking gorgeous. You could count all of his freckles here if you wanted to, follow the lines in his face with your eyes. Roman’s knee is pressed against your cunt, and he can feel you start to throb against him if he focuses.

“Mm-mm,” he hums quietly, bringing your focus back to him. He takes a long drag, then lowers his face, opening your jaw a little before he presses his soft lips against yours. He feeds his breath into your lungs, gently but steadily, and the sleek strands of his hair that fall over his eyebrows tickle your forehead. The smoke burns you inside, but Roman keeps you still beneath him. Finally, he pulls away, leaving you to cough and sputter on the exhale. 

“Rome–”

“Nope, you’re not done yet. Give me one more, pretty girl,” Roman tells you, taking another hit from the pen. He repeats the action but pulls back faster this time, and he presses his palm over your mouth and nose for a few seconds. “Attagirl, sweetheart,” he whispers, warm breath tickling your ear. “Hold it in. Just like that. Juuuuust like that.” 

You’re lightheaded already. Only when you squirm beneath him does Roman uncover your mouth, and a small puff of smoke clouds his face. 

“There we go. Wasn’t too hard, huh? You’re gonna feel so good, sweet girl. I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

You don’t feel so good yet, despite Roman’s promise. You just lie there on his bed, listening to the sounds of his TV becoming more and more distant, the rustling of fabric. The bed dips as Roman situates himself behind you, resting against the headboard of his bed. 

A moment passes before he speaks. “Hey, you,” he says. “Are you joining me or not?”

It takes you a second for his words to register, to even detect where they came from. You turn your head to see Roman smiling at you, his sharp canines on display. His eyes are dark and half-lidded, cheeks glowing with a gentle blush painted upon them. He’s shirtless now, too, and his soft stomach rises and falls with his steady breaths. 

“Oh, man. It’s already hitting you, huh, lightweight?”

…Is it hitting you yet? Getting high has always had a rather elusive, gradual start. It’s usually not until you’re feeling sort of heavy and floaty at the same time that you realize you’re there, and fuck, you are certainly there. You feel stuck to the bed, almost magnetically pulled to it. Roman giggles and crawls over to you, “Jesus, c’mere. Come snuggle me,” he says, “You’re gonna wanna be held,” then wraps his arms around you and tugs you with him toward the headboard again. 

Roman faces you toward the ceiling and lays your head in his lap. With one hand, he uses his long fingers to gently scratch your scalp as he turns on his phone with the other. He lowers the overhead lights, then turns on colored lights that glow under his bed and up by the ceiling. It’s very slick looking.

“Yeah, you like that?” he asks, “Do you like the lights?”

“Yeah,” you whisper softly, staring up at him. “They’re nice.” 

Roman smiles down at you, drawing little patterns on your face with gentle fingertips. He traces your features too, then pushes some hair out of your face. “Why don’t you watch the TV now, alright? Just lay like that.”

You nod sleepily, then turn your face to watch the TV as your high begins to set in a little further. Roman keeps his hands on you, always. Stroking your shoulders, fingers trailing up your neck. He turns you into a fidget toy of sorts, one of his own silly behaviors he takes on when he’s high. While watching the TV mindlessly, you’re not really sure how much time is passing. But you feel good. Relaxed, even. You love lying in Roman’s lap, head pressed against his soft, warm belly. He smells good, like some kind of gentle eucalyptus soap. And his happy trail is neatly trimmed. 

After some quiet between you and Roman, he speaks. “You feeling good yet? A little better?”

You look up at Roman then, and it hits you hard, just how high you are. Watching the TV, giving your mind and your eyes something to follow kind of dulls the sensation. Without it is a different story entirely. You blink at Roman a couple of times as he smirks at you. 

“Oh, fuck yeah. You’re high as balls, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I’m uh…” you trail off, taking longer to find the words than you should. “I’m a little dizzy.”

“Dizzy, huh?” he asks quietly. Roman clicks his tongue, then goes back to playing with you while watching the screen. He drags his fingers across your collarbones, tickling you a little. His hand inches down, rubbing you over your shirt. Your stomach flutters when he lifts your shirt a little and rubs your tummy, fingers dipping below the waistband of your sweatpants just a little. But his hands are so warm, so comforting. Gentle. 

Roman gingerly lifts your head, then slides from beneath you, allowing you to rest on the memory foam under you. You feel so heavy, almost like your body is slowly sinking through the mattress. Like quicksand. 

The bed dips by your legs, and then you feel Roman’s fingers undoing the bow tied in the front of your sweatpants, then brush over your hip bones as he hooks them under the waistband. He gives them a gentle tug, pulling them down your legs entirely. “Romey,” you murmur, “What’re you doing to me?”

“Romey, huh? Is that who I am?” Roman watches you nod, loving that lost look in your eyes. He laughs, “I like it. You’re so fuckin’ cute.”

“Why are you taking off my clothes?” you ask. “I’m so fu…I’m so confused.” 

Roman crawls over your body and leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, I know you are,” he whispers, then hums. “Oh, you poor, confused, sweet girl. You’re having such a hard time thinking, aren’t you?” he says softly, voice so tender in a way you’ve never heard from him before. When you nod, Roman says, “I’ll tell you what, I’m gonna make my words nice and easy for you, honey, so you don’t have to think too hard. Does that sound okay?”

You nod dumbly, and Roman smiles. “Good girl,” he praises. “I’m gonna give you some rules now, alright?”

“Rules for what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I want you to just listen to Daddy, okay? It’s super fucking easy. Can you do that for me?”

“Daddy?”

Roman nods, taking your hand in his own. “Mhm, Daddy,” he says, smirking. “Daddy’s in charge of you tonight, honey. And I’m gonna take good care of you, but you have to listen carefully to me, alright? It’s very important, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” you answer, feeling unsure. Something about the way he talks to you makes you feel worse in some ways. Nervous. But he tells you that you can trust him, so you do, right?

“Alright, sweetie. You’re gonna let Daddy do whatever he wants to do to you, and you’re just gonna lie still and be pretty for me. See? Very easy. You can do that, can’t you?”

“I can do…” Roman’s brows knit together as you trail off. “You think I’m pretty?”

His lips curl into a lopsided smile at your question. “Of course I do,” he tells you, drawing his name on your thigh with his fingers, already marking you as his own. He grins at you like an animal, eyes black and devoid of any depth. “I think you’re just the prettiest, honey.” 

“I think you’re pretty, too,” you say quietly. 

“Oh, do you, now?” Roman passes a hand back through his hair, only for the strands to fall in front of his face again. “Well, that’s fuckin’ nice of you.”

Roman motions for you to watch the TV again, his hand still holding yours. He drops it, then moves back a little, and spreads your legs to sit cross-legged between your thighs. As you watch the TV, you’re getting lost in the visuals. One person’s face turns into another’s, then another’s. It bothers you a little if you think about it, but when you look at Roman, he doesn’t seem alarmed. He just keeps touching you, his warm, soft hands running up and down your thighs, rubbing little circles into your hips. He toys with your underwear, surreptitiously slipping a finger under the gusset. You freeze.

“Aren’t you…” you begin, and Roman raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Aren’t I…what?”

“Like, not supposed to be doing that to me.” 

“Uh huh…” Roman drawls, “I’m not doing anything, though.”  

“But–”

Roman pouts at you mockingly. “Oh, man. You don’t know what you’re talking about at all, do you?” He shushes before you can speak, “Shhh. Just - just be quiet, now. You’re forgetting the rules.” 

“The rules…”

“The rules,” Roman replies, nodding his head slowly. “I’ll give you a refresher, alright? You get one freebie. But don’t make me tell you again, okay?” He sounds so sweet, and so serious. You kind of hate the way he babies you and talks to you like you’re fucking stupid, but you don’t have the capacity to understand him in any other way right now. He tells you it really is best if you let him do the thinking. Just give that pretty head of yours one fuckin’ night off, huh? 

“You just lay there, pretty girl,” Roman instructs, pushing his finger further past the fabric of your panties. He can feel the fucking heat radiating from your pussy. “Do not move, do not talk, and do not think,” he says quietly, drawing his finger up and down your seam. “Nod if you understand, baby.”

You nod, feeling a little intimidated and, well. Compelled to obey him. Roman mindlessly drags his fingers through your folds. Nothing more, nothing less. Like it’s not a big deal, or something. Like if he’s nothing to him, then why would it be anything to you?

Roman rubs your clit in circles. Just steady, slow circles. The fabric of your panties becomes damp, arousal dripping down your pussy as he works you slowly, steadily. He takes note of your breath hitching in your throat, your breathing becoming heavier. You’re not quite moaning, not yet. But he’ll get you there. 

He pulls your panties to the side, then pushes one finger into your slick hole. Roman pumps it in and out of you for a couple of minutes, admiring how you soak him. One finger becomes two, and he curls those two fingers inside of you repeatedly. Slowly, at first. Just to make you squirm a little, and then he increases the pressure and the speed.

“Roman,” you gasp, arching your back. 

“Quiet, baby.” 

He uses his other hand to rub your clit as he fucks you on his fingers, and the sensation feels overwhelming. It’s pleasurable, sure, but it feels polluted. Overwhelming. You’ve never been touched like this while being high before. 

“You are sooo fuckin’ soaked,” Roman whispers. “Feelin’ good, yeah?”

“I - I don’t know,” you say quietly, sitting up a little. Roman pushes you back down. “I just feel so confused, Roman. And like…afraid, I think? Maybe?” 

“Oh, come on. It’s just a little touching, huh? You can handle a little touching. You have nothing to be afraid of. See?” Roman pulls his fingers from your cunt, and wiggles them in front of you. “Look at how wet you are, sweetheart. That means you feel good.” He sucks his middle finger, humming at the taste of your arousal, then leans over you and pushes his pointer against your lips and forces it deep into your mouth. “Taste it, pretty girl.” You can smell yourself on his hand.

Roman’s cock twitches as you suck your arousal off his fingertip, then he pulls his hand away. He pulls your panties down your legs and drops them on the floor, then pushes your shirt up your torso. 

“Rome—”

“No, baby. No more talking.”

Roman puts his hand over your mouth and dips his head lower, then kisses the valley between your breasts. He kisses across them, moaning into the soft flesh there, sucking on one of your nipples while he gently squeezes the other one of your tits. The soft strands of his hair tickle your skin, and you arch into his touch. 

He kisses his way down your belly, then lifts you up and slides a pillow underneath your ass. The slight change in position makes you feel like you’ve been thrown off your axis, head all fuzzy and full and spinning. Before you can settle into it, Roman’s pushing your thighs apart and rubbing the soft skin behind your knee with his thumbs. He blows cool air over your dripping seam, and watches as your cunt twitches.

As Roman settles between your legs and kisses your inner thighs, you debate opening your mouth to speak. You really don’t want him to be mad at you right now. 

Roman rests his head against your leg. “Hey.” He taps on your side, “What’s that look for, huh? You’ve got freak-out face.” You pause, afraid to speak. “It’s cool. You can talk.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re like, totally freaking out in there,” Roman says softly, biting down on his twisted, delighted smile. 

“I just…I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Romey. I thought we were just gonna watch TV or something.”

“You can still watch TV.” Roman kisses your knee, “Daddy’s just kissing you, honey. That’s all. Nothin’ too bad. You like being kissed, don’t you?”

“I do, but—”

Roman startles you as he leaps forward, silencing you by pressing his lips against yours. It takes you a moment to return his kiss, to mingle your tongue with his the way he urges you to. You find a comfortable rhythm, and you feel content kissing him like this. His hands are gently cradling your face, and your legs brush against the smooth skin of his torso. But as quickly as it begins, it’s over. “Go watch your show, baby,” Roman whispers, kissing your lips one last time. 

Once again, he settles himself in front of your cunt. Roman kisses right over your seam, moving his lips gently. He slips his tongue over you, gathering your arousal on the tip to then drag through your folds. 

Roman told you to watch the show, but all you can do is watch him. His eyes are dark as he eats you, brows pinched together. A little line draws between them, and the veins in his forehead bulge a little. The tip of his perfect, freckled nose nudges against your mound as he swipes his tongue over your clit, eliciting the sweetest sound from you. 

His eyes dart to the mattress where you tug at the sheets. Saying nothing, Roman takes your hand and holds it, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. He does so intentionally, tracing each rise and dip of your joints, and it becomes something of a way for you to ground yourself amidst the discomfort. Roman devours your cunt, eating you for his pleasure alone. You taste so sweet, so very you. There’s no real pattern to it, just Roman blindly licking you, alternating between a flat tongue and a pointed one. He drags his tongue in swirls, figure-eights, circles. Even writes his name. 

When he wraps his lips around your clit and suckles you there, it makes you writhe and shudder. “Lie still,” Roman mumbles into your thigh, then goes right back to working you. 

Pleasure builds in your gut, but it doesn’t feel…right. It’s too intense, with no real start or stop of the sensation. It makes you feel like you’re breaking into a million pieces, and it makes you feel scared. You know it for certain - you are fucking scared. 

Roman savors the sweet noises of you quietly weeping and cumming, the choking sobs turned moans. He knows you’re way too high right now, just how he wants you. Fucking braindead and frightened to the bone. 

The pleasure doesn’t end there, however. The aftershocks of your release continue to roll through you, and you can feel it so awfully in your fingertips. You don’t even realize that Roman’s completely naked now, and so are you. He’s hovering above you, leaking cock tapping your wet cunt. You’re terrified. 

“I’m so scared, Romey,” you sniffle. “I wanna be done.”

Roman clicks his tongue and draws the head of his cock up and down your folds. He’s so pleasantly tickled by you, this whole thing - he thought you’d be all limp and mindless, but you’re afraid like you’re his fucking prey. “Yeah. But you’re not done, is the thing. Sorry.” 

“Rome–”

“You can cry, sweetheart. I don’t mind.” Roman holds your face, rubbing your cheek in circles, then notches his tip at your entrance and quickly thrusts into you. He reaches for the pen again and inhales a lungful for himself, one before he shotguns you again. You struggle a bit, grabbing at his wrist as you wiggle your body, trying to throw him off of you. Roman laughs and coughs, smoke blowing in your face.  You’re so fucking high that you’re barely moving, despite all of your efforts. Isn’t that just the funniest fucking thing? 

“Another,” he tells you, about to take another hit. “Open your mouth.”

“No, please. Don’t. I’m so fucking high, Roman.” 

“You’re really not,” he laughs, then grips your jaw tight enough to hurt. “Fuckin’ pussy.”  He squeezes your mouth open, takes an uncomfortably long hit, and forces all of his warm breath down your throat. Roman moans, feeling your cunt pulse around his length as you cough repeatedly, lungs on fucking fire. Your head spins as he giggles and lowers his mouth to your ear, and whispers, “You’re fucked.” He licks the shell of your ear as he draws out of you, and pushes slowly back inside. 

Roman pulls out again, so tender as he does it. Another gentle push inside, and soon enough, he’s found his pace. It’s not particularly hard, not particularly fast or brutal. As soft as it is, it still scares you. You don’t have a say in one thing that happens to you right now - not what you think, not what you feel, not how your body moves. Not even what you’re wearing. It’s all Roman - you are all Roman’s - and you can’t do one fucking thing about it. Your limbs are heavy as your mind races with incoherent thoughts. 

It’s all too much. Your heart pounds as Roman cages you in, slowly fucking in and out of you. You feel claustrophobic like this, smothered by his warmth and his weight, and your hands are pinned above your head. You don’t even remember that happening. “I’m too high, Roman,” you tell him. “I need–”

“It’s just a little weed, honey. You’re fine.”

“No, I’m really not. I feel - I’m scared,” you whisper, wriggling in discomfort. Roman pins you down with a hand on your tummy, keeping you in place. You’ve never felt afraid like this before. It’s not an immediate fear, not like seeing a spider on your refrigerator or hearing something go bump in the night. It’s dread more than it’s fear, really; a quiet and suffocating sort of terror. “I’m just so fucking scared,” you sob.

“Shh, hey - hey. You’re fine. Just look at the pretty lights, okay?” Roman tilts your head in the direction of the colorful glow, “What colors do you see, baby?”

Roman turns your face to the side, urging you to look at his lights as he fucks you gently. They shift in color, electric blue turning to violet, then magenta.

“Purple,” you answer. “And…blue…Can you pl–”

“Oh, fuck. Yeah? Kinda cool, huh?” he grunts, “What’s your favorite?”

“Pink,” you mumble, watching the colored lights and shadows dance on his ceiling. Roman’s bathed in all the same colors, his gorgeous skin painted in those gorgeous hues. 

“That’s good,” he says, “I want you to focus on the pretty lights and just let Daddy’s cock slide in and out of you, okay? That is aaalll you have to do. It’s very easy, honey. Be a good girl for me now, yeah?” 

Roman looks down at you and admires his work. Your skin glows under the multicolored lights, face sticky with tears as you cry softly. Your body is so soft, so fucking pliant. Close to dead, even. He did this to you. Roman did. And Roman’s all you have right now, for better or for worse. 

He kisses your neck, feeling your throat twitch under his lips as you hiccup and sob. “Oh, I know. Must be so hard, huh? Being Daddy’s pretty little fuck doll. What’m I gonna do with you, pretty girl?”

You don’t answer. Roman fucks you gently, steadily chasing his release. He licks his fingers and finds your swollen clit, and rubs it as he rolls his hips into you. The lights multiply and dance as pleasure builds inside you again, just as overwhelming as it was before. Lost in the colors, you cum while crying Roman’s name incoherently, and he guides you through your climax. His stupid, stoned fucksleeve. 

It’s not long before Roman cums too, shooting hot ropes of his spend inside you. He pulls out at the last minute to paint your cunt with his cum too, that last little bit. He rubs it into you with the tip of his dick, then lays next to you. He’ll have to clean you up before morning - or maybe he’ll leave you to lie in the mess he made of you. Depends on his mood. 

Roman turns your face to meet his and wipes your tears away. Poor thing. Your face is all puffy, eyes rimmed red by both the weed and your crying. Roman pulls you in for a hug, and buries your face into his chest that’s damp with sweat. You’re still vibrating with the effects of the high, but you can start to calm down in Roman’s arms. All you can do is melt there, and try not to think about any of it. Maybe in the morning the memory won’t be there. 

if you enjoyed, lmk ♡ i loooove you. scream at me in my inbox or be gross in reblogs!

[bambambwi]

Burning Desire ; Jealousy

༺ warnings ; contains smut

༺ context; ji yong, who's consumed by his jealousy, letting his uncontrollable impulses take over the moment.

You’ve been buried under an endless pile of work for the past few weeks, and it feels like there’s never enough time to breathe as much as you try to juggle everything, you can’t help but feel the weight of it all. Amidst the chaos, your boyfriend, ji yong, has been patiently waiting for you. With his album release just days away, he’s been consumed by rehearsals, interviews, and the pressure that comes with it and he had invited you to his listening party, hoping you could be there to share the moment with him.

But, with everything on your plate, you wont be able to make it.

You’d hoped to at least have a free moment to call him, but the second your phone rings, you recognize his name lighting up the screen. You hesitate for a moment before answering, your heart sinking at the thought of letting him down once again.

"Ah, you can't come?" ji yong’s voice sounds tired, though there’s a softness to it that pulls at your heartstrings. "It’s okay, I know you’re busy these days."

You feel the guilt surge up, biting your lip as you sit down on the edge of your desk, a sigh escaping your lips. "I’m really sorry, ji. I really want to come... I just—I can’t get away right now. Everything’s piling up."

His silence lingers for a moment, and you can almost hear the quiet understanding in the way he breathes. "I know," he says, his voice gentle but tinged with a hint of disappointment that he tries to mask. "It’s alright. I understand."

But you can tell that his words don’t fully erase the ache in his voice. You wish you could be there, support him the way you’ve always wanted to, especially with something as important as this album. It’s hard knowing that the distance between you, even if just for a little while, feels even greater now.

"Hey," his voice breaks through your thoughts, warmer this time. "You’re doing great. Just… don’t burn yourself out, okay?"

You smile, feeling the sincerity in his words. "I’ll try. I’ll make it up to you soon, I promise."

"I’ll hold you to that," he says, chuckling softly. "Take care of yourself, alright?.”

Yes, that’s exactly how the call went. You were frustrated about not being able to make it to his listening party tomorrow, especially since he was releasing his album after such a long time. Out of guilt, you spent hours that night having a long conversation with your manager, trying to convince her to cancel and postpone the work scheduled for tomorrow night. After much pleading and practically begging, she finally agreed to move things around. You were overjoyed to finally be able to see your boyfriend after weeks of being apart. The excitement and exhaustion hit you all at once, and you fell asleep before you could even tell him you'd be able to come tomorrow.

You found yourself doing photoshoots and advertisements from morning to evening, draining every ounce of your energy. Once you finally wrapped up work, you quickly changed into a black two-piece outfit: an off-shoulder top paired with shorts, white thigh-high stockings, and black mary jane shoes. Your hair was straightened, with black bangs framing your face and the rest of your hair flowing down. To top off the look, you wore white earrings and a beaded necklace, adding the perfect finishing touch.

"You look gorgeous, y/n!” your stylist says, finishing up with your makeup. You glance at the mirror, taking in the look, and then turn to give your stylist a soft hug. “haha, thank you!’’ you reply, appreciating her work.

It was almost 7 PM, and you had finished getting ready just in time to head out.

You got into the car and scrolled through your phone for any important texts as your driver drove.

Oh, I haven’t told ji yong.

Closing your eyes in disbelief, you muttered, "I should just make a sudden appearance then."

As you stepped out of the car, you managed to get through security and were finally allowed into the party. You walked in slowly, scanning the room for ji yong.

And there he was. Dressed in a casual blue suit with a hat to top off the look. His fashion was always a little unconventional, but he always managed to pull it off effortlessly.

The moment he spotted you, ji yong quickly walked over, grabbing you by the hand and pulling you into a hug.

"I thought you couldn't come?" he said, his beaming smile impossible to hide.

"Oh well!" you replied with a shrug, grinning back at him.

He didn’t leave your side, sticking to you like glue for what felt like forever, until he was finally dragged onto the dance floor to dance his song. You watched him dance, feeling a mix of amusement and affection as he looked super shy and awkward next to taeyang, who was absolutely owning the dance floor.

Just as you were enjoying the moment, you were interrupted by a group of men who politely greeted you at first. They appeared to be in their mid-twenties, dressed neatly with a firm, composed demeanor. They stood there for a moment, exchanging glances before one of them began the conversation with you.

ji yong, who had slowly crept away from the dance floor in embarrassment, tried to find you but noticed you were busy conversing with a group of people. He stood there, staring at you, hoping you’d turn around and come to him. But instead, he found himself watching as the man gently brushed a strand of hair out of your face while you shook your head and took a step back, visibly uncomfortable. Watching you with them stirred a mix of anger and jealousy inside him, fueling emotions he couldn't quite control. Why on earth did he just touch you? And, more importantly, why were you still continuing to talk to him?. ji yong spent the entire time at the party glancing at you, exchanging cold stares with the men. Once the party came to an end, he walked over, grabbing your hand and pulling you away.

"Stay tonight," he said, his voice firm.

"Oh? Okay?.." you said, looking visibly confused as you glanced at ji yong, who appeared cold and angry.

The moment you both arrived at his place, ji yong quickly closed the door behind you, rushing over to you. He cupped your face in his hands and immediately began smothering you with rough, urgent kisses. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. You were caught off guard, still trying to make sense of everything. The tension in the air was thick, and before you could process it all, ji yong broke the kiss, his breath heavy against your lips.

"Why were you talking to him?" His voice was low, sharp, laced with frustration.

"I thought it was rude to just walk away," you said, catching your breath, trying to steady yourself after the intensity of his kiss.

ji yong’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his grip on your waist tightened, his frustration still simmering beneath the surface. "You don't need to entertain them," he muttered, his tone softer but still edged with jealousy.

Without another word, ji yong closed the gap between you both, kissing you roughly once more. His hands were urgent, almost desperate, as he guided you toward his master bedroom. He gently dropped you onto the bed, his body caging you in as he leaned over you, his gaze intense, his breath ragged.

He started biting and kissing down your neck, his hands expertly removing your jewelry and tossing it aside on the bed.

"ji, what are you—" you gasped from the sudden intensity of his touch, but he silenced you by placing his hand over your mouth. His lips continued their path, trailing kisses down your thighs as he removed your shoes, carelessly throwing them aside as well.

Coming back to your face, ji yong leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin. "He can't have you like I can," he muttered, his hand moving from your chest down to your stomach, trailing lower into your shorts. His fingers brushed against the fabric of your underwear, a light, teasing touch that sent shivers through you.

You closed your eyes, turning your face away from his, but he gently grabbed your face, guiding it back toward his. His fingers continued to rub softly as he whispered, "Look at me, darling."

He went back to smothering you with kisses, his lips moving feverishly over yours. You wrapped your hands around his shoulders, pulling at his suit and shirt, eager to feel more of him. He responded in kind, removing your shorts and top with equal urgency, the room filled with the sound of your racing breaths.

“ji, the stockings," you moaned, tugging at his shoulders, your breath hitching with anticipation.

He smirked, his eyes darkening with desire. "You're even sexier with them on," he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

You could feel the heat radiating between you, the tension thickening the air. His hands slid down your arms, tracing the delicate lace of the stockings, igniting a fire within you.

“Your mine, not theirs to touch and play around,” he whispered into your ear, grinding his hard length against you. You moaned out his name desperately, urging him to stop teasing and give you what you craved.

“Oh? You want it that bad?” he mumbled, still grinding into you, his voice dripping with playful arrogance.

“Yes,” you gasped, your body arching instinctively against him, craving more of his touch.

He paused for a moment, his breath hot against your skin as he locked eyes with you, a smirk playing on his lips. In one swift motion, he removed your undergarments, revealing your body to him completely.

Positioning himself, he gripped your leg, holding onto the delicate fabric of your stocking, while his other hand steadied himself. With a deep, deliberate thrust, he entered you, filling you completely.

A wave of pleasure surged through you as he moved, the connection between you two igniting a fire that consumed you both. 

You gasped, “ji, hold on—”

He silenced you with a deep kiss, thrusting in and out of you, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You clung to his shoulders, nails digging in as you surrendered to the sensations.

“Can they do this to you, huh?” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. “They can’t. You’re mine.”

His words fueled the fire between you, and you felt a rush of exhilaration at his possessiveness, driving you both deeper into the moment.

With each thrust, the world around you faded, leaving only the two of you in this moment of pure ecstasy as he drove deeper, you felt the tension within you build to an overwhelming peak.

“ji, I’m so close,” you gasped, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

“Oh, so quick? That’s not right,” he teased, thrusting into you hard, targeting your g-spot with precision. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but scream out his name, the pleasure coursing through you like electricity.

With one final, thrust, he pushed you over the edge, and you cried out in ecstasy, your body trembling beneath him as the waves of pleasure subsided, he collapsed onto you, his entire weight resting against you, enveloping you in warmth.

“Darling, you’re shaking,” he said, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close as he pressed his forehead against yours.

You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, grounding you as the aftershocks of pleasure coursed through you. “I’m just overwhelmed,” you admitted, a soft smile breaking through the lingering intensity.

He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Might as well take work off tomorrow morning for those legs of yours.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “Oh really? And what makes you think I’d want to stay in bed all day?”

“Because,” he said, his voice low and playful, “I have plans for you. I want to make sure you’re well taken care of.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, the promise of more intimacy lingering in the air. “Well, when you put it that way, how could I refuse?”

[sturnsblogs]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆More than best-friends‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Chapter 4: Slipping Up

Chris sat on the couch at Avery’s house, scrolling through his phone while absentmindedly eating a bag of chips. Avery was beside him, legs crossed, painting her nails with an expensive-looking polish.

“You’re quiet,” she said after a few moments, barely looking up from her nails.

Chris blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. “Huh?”

Avery sighed, setting the bottle of polish down. “You’ve barely said two words since you got here. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he muttered.

It wasn’t nothing, though. It had been over a week since he’d talked to you, and the silence was starting to get to him. He told himself it was fine, that it wasn’t a big deal. But the truth was, he missed you. He missed how things used to be.

With you, everything had been effortless. You actually got him. You laughed at his dumb jokes, you never took things too seriously, and you didn’t judge him when he did something stupid just for the hell of it.

Avery? she was different.

“Chris, ew,” she suddenly groaned, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He frowned. “What?”

“You’re chewing so loud,” she complained, her face twisted in disgust. “And you’re talking with your mouth full. It’s actually disgusting.”

Chris blinked, looking at her like she had just spoken a different language. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously,” Avery huffed. “God, you’re like a little kid sometimes.”

Without thinking, Chris rolled his eyes and said, “Relax, Y/N.”

Silence.

It took a second for the words to register. But when they did, his entire body tensed.

Avery slowly turned to look at him, her expression unreadable at first. But then her lips pressed together, her eyes narrowed slightly, and he knew—he knew—he had just messed up.

“What,” she said, voice eerily calm, “did you just call me?”

Chris felt his stomach drop. “Shit.”

“Avery,” he corrected quickly, sitting up straighter. “I meant Avery. It was a mistake.”

Avery let out a humorless laugh, standing up from the couch. “A mistake? You accidentally called me your ex-best friend’s name? Wow, Chris, that’s so convincing.”

Chris sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Avery, come on, I didn’t mean to—”

“You did mean to,” she snapped, crossing her arms. “You don’t just accidentally say someone else’s name unless you’re thinking about them. So go ahead, Chris. Tell me how much you miss her.”

“I didn’t say that,” Chris muttered, though the guilty look on his face didn’t help his case.

Avery scoffed. “You didn’t have to.”

Chris exhaled, already feeling the headache forming. “Avery, don’t do this.”

“Do what?” she shot back, voice sharp. “Acknowledge the fact that you’re clearly still obsessed with her?”

“I’m not obsessed with her,” Chris snapped, standing up now too. “She was my best friend. Of course I miss her.”

“Oh my god,” Avery laughed, shaking her head. “Chris, do you even hear yourself? Was your best friend? You still talk about her like she’s the most important person in your life.”

Chris clenched his jaw, trying to keep himself from saying something he’d regret.

“You haven’t talked to her in a week, but she’s still on your mind so much that you just called me her name?” Avery continued, her voice rising. “That’s not just some stupid mistake, Chris. That’s proof that you still want her around!”

Chris groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “Avery, I don’t want to fight about this.”

“Of course you don’t,” she scoffed. “Because then you’d have to admit that you’d rather be with her than with me.”

“That’s not true,” Chris argued, though even he wasn’t sure how much he believed it.

Avery tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “Then answer one thing for me, Chris. And be honest.”

He exhaled, already dreading whatever was coming next. “What?”

“Do you like her?”

Chris blinked. His stomach twisted at the question.

“What?” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her right.

Avery crossed her arms tighter. “You heard me. Do you like Y/N?”

Chris opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He wanted to say no, to immediately shut it down. But the hesitation—the damn hesitation—hung in the air, suffocating them both.

Avery scoffed. “Wow.”

Chris shook his head. “Avery, come on. It’s not like that.”

“Then say no,” she challenged. “Say you don’t have feelings for her.”

Chris clenched his jaw. He could lie. He should lie. But for some reason, the words refused to leave his mouth.

Avery let out a dry laugh, her eyes flashing with something between anger and disappointment. “That’s what I thought.”

Chris exhaled sharply, feeling completely drained from the argument. “Avery, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to be honest with yourself,” she said, her voice lower now but still sharp. “And maybe—just maybe—I want to be with a guy who actually wants to be with me, not someone who’s too busy missing another girl to realize what he already has.”

Chris clenched his fists at his sides. “Avery—”

“No,” she cut him off. “I think you should go.”

Chris stared at her, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him. But at the same time, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to stay.

Without another word, he grabbed his phone, shoved it in his pocket, and walked out the door.

And for the first time in weeks, he didn’t even pretend to ignore the ache in his chest.

A/N- I think i like this 🙂

THANK YOU SO SO SO SO MUCH TO @blushsturns for help. i love this girl so much.

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @chrislilcumslvt @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @mylittled0ve @oopsiedaisydeer

TAGLIST FOR MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 3

[ryusuisloveinterest]

hey girl!! it's been a while,

I've been having massive stanley brainrot, so may I request Stanley x Reader where reader is one of the scientists in the DARPA expo and was also one of the ones who revived by themselves. Reader and Xeno are like close colleagues and Stanley falls for reader??

Also, how do u feel abt dr stone season 4 coming out next year?! I'm sooo excited honestly!!

I’m so this took so long!!!! I’m loving season 4 so far and Stanley is cooking every time he’s on screen😩 I hope you like it and thank you for your patience bestie💕💕💕💕

Stanley x DARPA scientist reader💝

You’ve worked with Xeno countless times, on different assignments, experiments, and whatever else people at NASA do

Though it still took awhile for you to meet Stanley

I believe Xeno would keep his personal life to himself, keeping the line between his life and work very bolded

But one day he invited you to his house to work on some thing together or because he’s let you cross that line 

You both chat for a while with some tea and treats when some grumpyass soldier barges through the front door 

“Guess what they’re doin now Xeno??? They’re cutting down spending for my branch!! Not only that but my men are leaving left and right! That’s some utter bull-“ 

Stanley pauses when he sees you, his eyes in complete awe at the sight of you 

“Oh um pardon me…” he reaches his hand out for a handshake, “Lieutenant Stanley Snyder, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I apologize for that outburst.”

You giggle and introduce yourself as well, “it’s ok Lieutenant Snyder, the government doesn’t treat us that nicely at NASA either”

“Please, just call me Stanley”

Xeno gets the vibe REAL QUICK

He’ll quickly say something like, “oh I need to use the restroom,” or “I’ll go prepare more tea” and just leaves you with Stanley 

After that you’ll see Stanley appear around the office more and more

“Oh sorry y/n I didn’t mean to bug you. Xeno’s office is right around the corner so I thought I’d come say hi”

Xeno’s office is halfway across the building💀

That brings us to the DARPA meeting

Everyone’s discussing the birds and stone and idk what else they talked about lol

But a small break is held

Stanley gives you a drink while you two talk about random things

“Say y/n, maybe after all this shit is over, me and you can go have a little drink together, my treat. What do you think?”

“You better be the one paying, since you’re asking me out~”

A smile breaks out of the soldier

BUT THEN A MYSTERIOUS BIG GREEN LIGHT POPS OUT OF NOWHERE AND EVERYONE GETS TURNED TO STONE😛

3700 years pass when you’re randomly awakened 

You walk around and immediately get a gun to your back

Without fear, you giggle and say, “is this your idea of a first date Stanley?”

His cool helmet falls off and you see the man you’ve waited 3700 years for

He kisses your forehead

“I’ll be sure to make it up to you with much better dates doll~”

You two waste no time in starting to date

Ofc Xeno still need a help working to rebuild, so during the day everyone focuses on working and rebuilding the modern world 

But as soon as the day’s over or works all done, yours his and his ONLY

Like I’m talking bodies constantly touching (whether it’s hand holding, sitting on his lap, cuddling, other things👀)

Always talking to each other, whether it’s deep or not is up to you two

Tries to take you on whatever dates you can in the stone world (dinners, stargazing, crafts, etc.)

While he might cut Xeno off on some of his science rants, but he’d never do that to you 

“Sorry if I’m talking a lot Stanley, I’ll stop it you-“

“No I like your voice, way better than Xeno’s.”

Overall 1000/10 would recommend