#but no I really need to start writing down my dreams again😭

[miyaz6ki]

i might let you make me juno ✰

synopsis. literally the title, each are just small drabbles though :)! 1 kink i think they would have, as well as something they'd dislike(?), idrk what I'll put since I make these before I write 😭

the blade has spoken. i forgot to post yesterday :sob: rb for pt 2 ORR FOR MORE OF MY SUPER DUPER SICK CONTENT!!

pairings. albedo, alhaitham, capitano, childe, wriothesley, diluc, neuvillette

warnings. NSFW, mdni please!! sex :pensive:, although some are fluffier than others!, lwk hatefucking in alhaitham's (academic rivals to lovers), corruption kink (capitano's), vision play w diluc (not rly my main point), cockwarming,

albedo, who already has you placed right in front of him, legs spread as he kneels before you. although he glanced at the beauty in front of him, his eyes would tell a million words, the ones he couldn't speak. in general, whatever you were into, so was he.

the alchemist, delving his tongue into real delicacy for the first time, had himself on a chokehold, every now and then gazing back up to the figure he loved the most, pleasured by what he was doing. fuck he loved you so much. the taste had him hypnotized, he could probably do this forever.

every minute that passed, he felt himself falling in love over and over again. holding your thighs closer to the sides of his face, he could feel how much pleasure he gave.

alhaitham, who has you pinned to the wall, your chest pressed up against the surface. he held both your wrists in one of his hands, and the other on the left side of your waist. rocking his hips into yours, archons he was so fucking in love with the way you clenched against his member.

as much as he hates you, or says he does, it's really the opposite. he's never met anyone who could get him as mad as he is right now, not anyone could piss him off. he loved it so damn much.

he loved watching your eyes roll back in pleasure, no one else could get him boiling, but no one could ever be this deep inside you like he does, right? he better be. or he'll spend the next nights trying to prove himself right to you. so at least for once he'll win.

capitano loved to absolutely break you. corrupt you. he wanted to make sure you were indefinitely all his. and no one else's. he loved seeing those cute little tears of yours roll down your cheeks, whining about how you can't take it when both of you know you can!

you're all his, right? hopefully, and rightfully so, because no one as big as him would ever please your little hole now. but he supposes that something should make up for the pain you feel whenever he enters, it should be the pleasure, and somewhat comfort he can attempt to give.

so he lets you pick whatever position you wanted, and honestly, his favorite while letting you choose was whatever position he could see you the most in. especially when it includes your pretty little face. he wants to see how good he makes you feel <3

he always has his hands on you it feels so dirty. but childe has no excuse for himself, his only purpose is to make sure others know how to fuck off from what's only supposed to be his, it's not your fault, nor his, but he just has the indefinite need to show you off. whether it'd be how the marks all over your collarbone would be the prettiest!

he knows it hurts, but for now, just endure it, and he'll make sure to take care of it later. he makes sure to kiss it all away anyway, no matter how deep inside he might be, you're his reason to fight, his reason to live and come back home for another day with you.

oh well, he dreams of starting a nice little family with you. coming home to you and your two.. maybe three children? you'll both figure it out later. after he finishes inside you, his rough hands, which bruised your hips with small, little crescents ingrained into your skin. oh he's already planning the names!

wriothesley is generally turned on by any position he could see you in. similarly to capitano, but the thing is... he much prefers seeing how his cock imprints itself in your stomach.

sure your expressions are pretty cute, but nothing better than seeing you throw your head back, trying to ride his big member when you know you need help from him! all you have to do is say please...

if you didn't, he'd simply watch the show. watch you trying to take him all at once, and only hurting yourself more by trying to take what you can't (without his assistance). and in which he simply.. takes control himself, and helps you slowly sink onto his shaft instead. of course whole holding your hand!

diluc who uses his vision to his advantage, his hands already over your chest, as the temperature of his palm rises slowly, while letting you cockwarm him.

whether it's while he's writing, and signing away paperwork for the wine business, and his other hand over one of your nipples, or if all his attention is focused on you, watching how you react with a VIP seat, which would be taken literally as you sat on his dick.

a teasing touch from one of his fingers would rub against the spot where his cock was snug inside you, infused with a bit of warmth with the help of his vision.

neuvillette who's instincts get to him, as he watches your reaction through the pristine, crystal mirror in front of you both. it was a gift from his daughter figure—furina.

dear archons, please do forgive him for using her gift in such a.. filthy way, but nothing gets him going like seeing you stare at yourself be pleasured so well by none other than himself. his head fitting in the crook of your neck as he only turns himself on more, only reaching even deeper with his shaft inside you.

and wow he couldn't even wait for the main course tonight, for someone who's very knowledgeable on the taste of water from every region—he much preferred whatever substances you could make.

[damimami1994]

GIRRRLL this is going to be a long one so get ready ✍🏼

First of all I want to kiss your beautiful brain because the way you write for Old Man Logan is just AHHHH!! (meaning oh so great lol)

The tension between these two from the moment it started is so exciting and electric. I absolutely loved how the reader pushed his buttons and never let down from what she wanted and knew what he wanted too. It was driving him crazy and I was EATING IT UUUPP!!

“Your touch and proximity ignites something primal in him, something he thought long extinguished. Logan can feel pure want, need, surge through his veins and lick flames along his skin.”

“He feels alive. Every cell in his body hums beneath your touch, the constant aches and pains temporarily erased. You're a balm to his very soul, smoothing the ever deepening cracks and making him feel whole.”

^COME ON!! This man needs this and craves it so bad, the way you describe his feelings is fabulous.

Lub the two quotes below make me absolutely feral!!!!

“ ”Last chance,” he husks, his breath fanning across your lips. “Last chance to stop before I ruin you.” ”

“A sinful smile spreads across your face. “Oh, Logan,” you coo, “who says I’m not going to ruin you?” “

When you teased this earlier I knew I was in for a ride and now that I know the whole thing I’m like YEESS because he was ruined the moment he stepped in to the house (well really when he decided to pull over)

The angst you created while they were apart but coming back together was divine because she always knew he would come back and as time passed it showed their love building even if they weren’t always together, they didn’t need to because they just knew. ��🥹

I loved too how he thought she was a mutant because of how intuitive she felt with him and I’m like hello Logan she loves you and accepts you!! I wanted to shake him so many times like man look with your eyes but he will always think he’s undeserving and she’s there to prove him wrong!! Speaking of undeserving when he tries to push her away again, I loved how fierce she was and didn’t let him get away with it

“You let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “God, for someone with heightened senses, you’re blind to what’s right in front of you.” “

^OoOo!!! Yes reader tell him what he needs to hear since he wants to run away and push you out (even though afterwards I’d love him forever because come on lol) Sassy Charles too was the best 🤣 it just kept going with the trash talk Logan needed to hear lol

The porch light being the guiding light through the relationship was such a beautiful way to show their love. It was simple yet had so much meaning. She was never going to quit on him and he was always going to come back even if he didn’t feel deserving of it 😭❤️ Was this your run on thing you talked about having?

*one more note is this was one of my favorite things she said to him explaining how she just feels him and she says

“ "This undeniable pull, an invisible string that connects me to you and it tug, tug, tugs, until...there you are." “

Ohhh to have that with someone especially Logan is a dream because no matter the angst, heart ache, they’d always end up together, in love 😭

Thank you for the happy ending too because I couldn’t not DEAL if they didn’t get it!! Amazing job Lub 👏🏼💐

Come A Long, Long Way

SYNOPSIS: His days are long and his nights are longer. He comes to you during those hours when the rest of the world stills, lured in by something almost like fate. 

PAIRING: Old Man Logan x fem!reader 

WC: 12.2k

WARNINGS: smut 18+, mdni; angst; swearing; non-explicit mentions of wounds, scars and healing; gratuitous sexual tension; mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption; dirty talk; frottage; nipple play; surprise appearance by Charles; oral (f receiving); fingering; unprotected p in v; sex with feelings; cowgirl; mating press; creampie; brief mentions of Laura; happy ending because I said so

A/N: The idea for this story came to me through a song--My Fair Lady by Kaleo. I was struck by this verse: I'm weary from my travels // I've come a long, long way // I haven't felt a woman // Since last that I was here // Oh, won't you bring me whisky // And run your fingers through my hair? // Oh, won't you whisper sweet words // Oh, so softly in my ear? I thought, "Wow, that's so Old Man Logan" and this is what I birthed from that. This may be one of my favorite things I've ever written, and I sincerely hope you think so too. Huge, huge thank you to @yxtkiwiyxt for betaing this for me and making the final draft what it is; you helped end this in such a beautiful way. Thank you to @saradika for the use of her graphics. And as always, I hope you enjoy this and any likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

He shouldn’t care about the car pulled over on the side of the road, hazard lights blinking as the rain pours down. 

For three days, Logan’s entertained a rowdy bachelorette party, chauffeuring them from bar to bar, dinner to dinner. The scent of cheap perfume and desperation still linger inside the limo, the drunken, whispered advances still burn against his skin. 

He’s tired. Exhausted down to his very marrow and he wants nothing more than to crawl onto his sagging mattress and steal whatever amount of sleep his shattered mind will give him. 

So, no. He shouldn’t care about the car. 

But he finds himself easing off the gas, the limo starting to slow as he nears. He feels drawn, like a month to a flame, as if some unseen force has wound itself around his sternum and is pulling him forward. 

Pulling him to you. 

As the limo approaches, he spots you crouched down by the front left tire, struggling with a lug wrench, the tool slipping in your rain-soaked fingers. He can almost hear the curses spilling from your lips as you glance up and look towards where he’s sitting. 

Logan knows you can’t see him, not well anyway with the headlights shining directly upon you and the rain pouring down in sheets, but he swears you find his gaze, your eyes seeming to pierce down directly to his soul. He feels the flutter of something deep in his chest and he feels exposed, like a raw wound that hasn’t quite healed. 

For a moment, he hesitates, and wonders if you’re a siren, out here in your element to lure him to his death. Then your gaze drops and the thought dissolves but only just. Before he can talk himself out of it, Logan’s throwing the car in park and opening the door. 

The rain is frigid, the cold biting at his skin as the downpour soaks him down to the bone. You glance up at him as he approaches, your fingers loosening around the wench but still keeping it firmly in your grasp. Straightening up, you push wet strands of hair out of your face, your fingers trembling from the cold. 

“Need a lift?”

He doesn’t know why he asks. What he should do is swap out the old tire for the spare and let you go on your way. But those eyes of yours are piercing him again, the hook you’ve sunk deep in his sinew pulling taut once more and Logan feels compelled to take you home. 

For a few moments, you continue to silently assess him, your gaze flitting between your car, the limo behind him and back to his now soaked frame. Then, you stand and open the driver’s side door, tossing in the wrench and pulling your purse close to your chest. You follow him to the limo and climb into the backseat as Logan slips back in behind the wheel. 

He glances back at you through the rearview mirror, watching as you lean back into the seat, your wet clothes clinging to every curve of your body. Which is another thing he shouldn’t care about and yet…

Clearing his throat, he turns up the heat. “Where you headed?”

“North. About twenty miles or so.”

Logan nods and shifts the car into drive, heading back down the road as the rain continues to come down. Several minutes pass in silence, save for the rhythmic thump of the windshield wipers. Finally, your voice breaks through the silence, soft and lilting. 

“Got a name?”

“Who’s asking?”

A half smile tugs at your lips as you slide from the seat and slip into the row directly behind the partition. Logan can feel the damp of your skin as you lean into his space, the scent of rain flooding his nostrils almost intoxicating. You say your name and wait for him to respond in kind.

“Logan,” he answers, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“Life hasn’t been kind to you, has it, Logan?” you ask, his name dripping from your lips like honey and just as sweet.

Logan stiffens, his grip tightening on the wheel as your words cut through the night. There’s no pity in your tone, which he’s silently grateful for, but an unsettling mixture of curiosity and understanding.

At the best of times, he doesn’t like anyone trying to scratch below the surface, to worm themselves into all the soft and vulnerable bits he tries so desperately to hide away. Now that he’s older and feeling every bit of his age, the weight of his bones threatening to drag him down with each step, he likes it even less.

“It’s not kind to anyone,” he answers, turning his head just enough to glance sideways at you. 

You tilt your head slightly, a wordless noise humming in your throat. “Maybe,” you concede, voice soft, like you’re mulling over his words. “Except your life has carved itself into you a little more than most.”

He wants to be annoyed, to slam his foot on the brake and send the limo careening into reverse back towards your broken down car. But something stirs in him, thrumming in time with the pulse beating in his veins—a spark of irritation mixed with that pull that’s been gnawing at him since he first saw you. 

“You a therapist or somethin’?”

You chuckle softly, the sound low and intimate, as you lean back into the seat, finally putting some space between you. “No. Just intuitive.”

“Yeah?” He looks up at you through the rearview mirror with a scowl. “Intuit less. Just tell me where I’m goin’.”

A soft, chiding “tsk” falls from your lips and you shake your head, but Logan doesn’t miss the smile playing on your lips. You give him directions to your house and for moment you both sit in silence but the air remains heavy with unspoken tension. 

Logan pulls off the highway, beginning to wind through the smaller streets of the town as he gets closer to your place. The thought of this ride ending, of you leaving this car, both thrill and disappoint him. 

“You believe in fate?”

The question cuts through the silence, pulling Logan’s focus back to you. He glances at you briefly, your expression thoughtful as you wait for him to answer. 

“No,” he finally says, voice flat. 

A soft hum escapes your throat. “Unsurprising. But don’t you think, Logan,” you begin, leaning back into his space, “that maybe fate is what brought us together?”

You have that knowing look in your eye again, a sly smile tugging at your lips. As if you’re in on some cosmic secret he’s not privy to. It unnerves him. 

But it intrigues him, too. 

“I think a broken down car brought us together.”

“Or maybe life decided to be kind to you,” you challenge. “To bring me to you.”

Logan turns into a quiet subdivision as your words rattle around in his brain. The rain has mostly subsided, but is still falling in a gentle drizzle as he pulls up in front of your house, a single porch light illuminated in welcome. It looks small, yet homey, the kind of place he could have seen himself in once if life had been kinder to him. 

“You should come in,” you say as you gather your belongings. “Get out of those wet clothes.”

Your eyes meet his again through the review mirror, a mischievous glint in your gaze and an even more sinful smile on your lips. 

It’s been a while since he’s been with anyone. The thrill of finding a partner for the night having lost its luster around the time his bones started to ache. More often than not, his sexual escapades involve his own calloused hands and memories from when he was a younger man. 

“Think about it,” you offer as you open the door and slip out of the limo. “Door’ll be open.” 

Logan sits, hands gripping the steering wheel, contemplating whether or not to follow you into the house.

Your offer is tantalizing, ripe for the picking, and the baser part of himself wants to accept—follow you into sin. You’ve already injected yourself into his veins, he might as well see the high through. 

The rational part of his brain knows he should leave, throw the limo in reverse and tail it back to the life he’s carved out for himself in the desert. Experience has hardened him, left him unable to, or maybe unwilling to, open himself to others. He doesn’t need whatever it is you think you can offer him, no matter how alluring and sweet your words may be. 

The weight of his wet clothes against his skin begins to feel almost suffocating and with a low curse under his breath, Logan steps from the limo and follows the path you took up the porch and into the house.

A trail of water leads from the front door to a small laundry room just off the foyer and then damp footprints lead deeper into the house. He can hear the low rumble of a dryer as he steps further into the space, the squeak of his shoes against the hardwood doing nothing to hide his approach. 

Logan finds you in the kitchen, lights dimmed low, standing in only a pair of mismatched underwear, the damp fabric barely concealing what’s underneath as you gently swirl a glass of whiskey. A second, untouched glass sits next to your hip on the counter. 

“You seem like a whiskey man,” you say, your smile curving around the glass as you take a slow sip. “Did I get it right?”

Stopping in the doorway, he flexes his hands at his sides, and wills himself to move—forward, backward, he’s not quite sure. The muted light catches along your curves, the damp sheen of your skin enticing, the dark outline of your nipples and curls between your thighs acting like a beacon. Logan can feel himself hardening against his slacks. 

He can smell you—bright and earthy and wholly intoxicating. Your heartbeat echoes in his ears, quick, but steady, betraying no fear. 

“If you wanted to hurt me, you would have done it by now,” you say and he has half a thought to wonder if you can read his mind. 

A sly smile spreads across your face as his eyes finally meet yours, a knowing edge to your expression that further sets him off balance. 

“What’s happenin’ here?” Logan finally rasps, his voice low and rough. 

You give a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders as you grab the glass next to you and take a step towards him, your movements slow yet deliberate. He doesn’t move, rooted to the spot as you approach him. 

“That’s up to you,” you reply, handing him the glass. “You can get out of those wet clothes and enjoy this whiskey with me, or,” you pause to step closer, “you can walk back out that door and pretend like you weren’t curious about what’s waiting for you here.”

Logan’s fingers grip the glass in his hands just a little too tight as you stare up at him, holding his gaze a beat longer than necessary. You’re challenging him, daring him to act, and he knows the minute he breaks, he’s done for. He won’t be able to stop. 

You risk another step closer, leaving barely a breadth of space between you. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, can smell the rain on your skin, as your closeness overwhelms his senses. He wants to drown in you. 

“What’s it gonna be?” you ask in a whisper, your fingers trailing along the edge of his belt buckle. 

Your touch and proximity ignites something primal in him, something he thought long extinguished. Logan can feel pure want, need, surge through his veins and lick flames along his skin. His free hand moves on instinct, wrapping around your wrist, halting your teasing fingers before they venture any further. His restraint is hanging by a thread, fraying and threatening to snap.

“You sure this is what you want?” His voice is low, all gravel and grit as he stares down at you, his eyes darkened by a hunger begging to be fed.

Your lips curve into a slow, knowing smile as you press yourself fully against him, soft and warm. Rising up onto the balls of your feet, you drop your gaze to his lips before flicking your eyes back up to his and ghosting your mouth along his jawline. “Stay with me,” you whisper, sliding your hand up his chest. “Just this once.”

Logan’s restraint snaps. The glass tumbles from his hand, shattering against the floor, but neither of you seem to notice. His hand moves to the small of your back, wanting to press you impossibly closer as his lips crash into yours, hot and demanding. 

You respond in kind, a whimper dying in your throat as your fingers tangle in his damp hair, urging him closer. A growl tumbles from his lips as he trails his mouth down your neck, nipping and tasting as he goes, his tongue finding your pulse point and sucking. His hands roam freely, his calloused fingers sliding over your smooth flesh, palming your hips and gripping you as if you’re the only thing grounding him to earth.

He feels alive. Every cell in his body hums beneath your touch, the constant aches and pains temporarily erased. You’re a balm to his very soul, smoothing the ever deepening cracks and making him feel whole. 

You gasp as he nips at a spot just below your ear and he smirks against your skin, the sound spurring him on. “Tell me where your room is, or I’m fuckin’ you right here on the table,” he husks, his voice thick with desire, breath fanning over the shell of your ear.

Pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your lips swollen and eyes dark, you reach for his hand and wordlessly lead him past the living room and down the small hallway to your room. Once inside, he pulls you back towards him, mouth slanting back over yours, stealing the very air from your lungs. 

His cock is almost painfully hard as he walks you towards the bed, only pulling his mouth away from yours as your knees hit the edge of the mattress. Instead of sitting back on the bed, you reach for the buttons on his shirt, easing them open before sliding the fabric from his shoulders. There’s an eagerness to your movements, your fingers fumbling with his belt buckle as he sheds his undershirt and tosses it somewhere behind him. 

Logan watches with a hooded gaze, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, as you shove his pants down his legs, barely getting them past his knees before you’re reaching for the waistband of his boxers.

His fingers curl around your wrist, halting your movements and you gaze up at him, licking your lips. “Slow down, sweetheart,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “We have all night.”

A shiver runs through you and then his mouth is on you again, hungry and all-consuming. He drinks you in like a man parched, lips and teeth mapping the curve of your jaw, the solid edge of your collarbone as your pretty little moans and gasps fill the air. You tilt your head back and offer yourself to him, your hands grasping at his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle to keep him close.

His hands are rough against your skin as he slides them up your sides, tracing the soft, damp skin below the band of your bra. Unfastening the clasps, he trails the fabric down your arms, his eyes darkening as he finally takes in your bare breasts.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his voice dripping with raw want.

Any final restraint he has evaporates and he kicks the last of his clothes off before tightening his hands around your waist and setting you down on the bed. Logan steals the gasp from your mouth as his body covers yours, easing himself between your thighs and thrusting once against your clothed cunt.

He cups your jaw, thumb stroking over your bottom lip, pulling it down just enough to wet the skin. “Last chance,” he husks, his breath fanning across your lips. “Last chance to stop before I ruin you.” 

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just hard enough to elicit a growl, his teeth bared. A sinful smile spreads across your face. “Oh, Logan,” you coo, “who says I’m not going to ruin you?”

Logan lets out a deep, guttural sound, something between a growl and a groan before he slots his mouth back over yours and follows you into temptation.  

“Figured you’d try and sneak out.”

Logan whirls around at the sound of your voice, claws slowly unsheathing from between his knuckles. Blood wells up from the wounds, dripping between his fingers as he finds you dressed in an oversized shirt, the hem just concealing the edge of your panties. Your expression belies no fear as you take in the metal jutting out between his skin, your eyes alight with an acceptance he’s not use to. 

Fear, disgust, repulsion, but rarely acceptance. 

Slowly, he retracts his claws as you move further into the kitchen, stopping at the sink to grab and moisten a washcloth before coming to stand in front of him. Logan instinctively pulls away from your touch, but you’re undeterred, taking his hands in yours and wiping the blood away from his skin. Your movements are gentle, taking care to avoid the still healing slits.

Washed of blood, you finally glance up at him. “You can stay, you know.”

“I’m not the stayin’ kind, sweetheart,” he mutters.

One of those slow, knowing smiles tugs at your lips as you release his hands and Logan actually mourns the loss. “We’ll see,” you say with a shrug, stepping back just enough to put space between you. “I don’t think fate is done with us yet.”

Your words hang in the air like smoke, curling around him and pressing into his skin. He wants to argue, the words burning on his tongue, but he doesn’t. Because despite his earlier claims that he didn’t believe in fate, he can’t deny the unnatural pull you have on him. A pull Logan doesn’t necessarily dislike.

At his silence, you lean up and press the faintest of kisses to the corner of his jaw. “I’ll leave the light on for you,” you whisper into his skin.

It’s then he knows—he won’t be able to stay away. 

Logan shows up at your door again two weeks later. 

He’s been driving around some bigwig CEO, chauffeuring him from conference to conference during the day and dropping him off at random hotels during the night. When he gives Logan the address to tonight’s hotel, Logan knows instantly he’s in trouble. Just his luck the hotel is in your town. 

Pulling off the freeway, he feels that familiar tug behind his ribs. His hands itch with the want, the need, to turn the wheel towards you instead of the address on his GPS. Since that night, you’ve haunted him, your face showing up in his dreams, waking with the sensation of your softness burning into his skin. 

Logan knows he could stay at the hotel or sleep in the back of the limo like he’s done so many times before. But as he slowly inhales at his cigar and waits for Mr. CEO to stop fingering his mistress in the back seat and get the fuck out, the need to be near you only grows stronger. 

And damned if he knows why. 

He doesn’t need a relationship, or whatever the hell this is. Enough of him has been spread to others, for better or worse, and he’s already worn thin. The last remnants of any family he has are hanging off a very precarious ledge and he can’t bear the heartache of more loss if he opens himself to you. 

But as much as Logan keeps telling himself he’s closed off, fortified against anything new, he can feel himself bleeding through the cracks. 

By the time he finally turns down your street, it’s well past a respectable visiting hour. Most houses are dark for the night, but not yours. The front porch light illuminates just like it did two weeks ago and the dim lights of the kitchen shine through the pulled blinds. You’re up and a frisson of anticipation shoots through him. 

He parks the limo and stamps out the cigar before walking up your driveway. As he approaches the door, he hesitates. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. While your final words to him were open ended, did that give him the right to just show up in the middle of the night? 

You open the door as he contemplates and when his gaze finally focuses on you, he relaxes. A well worn robe is tied around your waist, your hair tied up in a messy bun, your face cleaned of makeup and yet you’re more alluring to him than you were that night in the rain. 

“I don’t know why I’m here,” he confesses, stepping just a bit closer towards you. 

A slow, soft smile spreads across your face. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually,” you reply. You open the door to allow him entrance and he steps in after you. 

Logan follows you into the kitchen, where you already have a glass of whiskey ready for him. Handing him the glass, you nod your head towards the living room. “Come. Relax for a bit.”

He follows you into he living room, the single lamp casting a soft glow within the space. You settle onto the sectional, tucking your legs beneath you and turning yourself towards him as he joins you. For a moment, neither of you speak, but the silence isn’t awkward—it’s comfortable, like it always is around you. 

“You look tired,” you say, finally breaking the quiet. Your voice is soft, a sense of familiarity laced in with your words, as if you understand the magnitude of his fatigue.

Logan huffs as he swirls the whiskey in his glass, watching the amber liquid catch the light. “Honey, I’m always tired,” he replies. “Comes with the territory.”

You give a small hum, your head tilting to the side as you assess him. “You’re in pain, too.”

Logan freezes at your words, his eyes flicking up to your face. His gaze locks with yours, sharp and guarded, like you’ve peeled back a layer he wasn’t ready to expose. And yet, you’ve been doing this since the beginning. Finding the cracks in his facade and wedging yourself in until the gap widens, uncovering the raw nerves underneath.

“What makes you say that?” he asks, his tone challenging.

You gaze remains steady and calm, holding a softness that unnerves him more than the question itself. “Because it’s written all over you,” you say simply. “I see it in your scars, in the way your hands are always clenched, as if steeling yourself against a blow that’ll never come.”

Logan exhales a low, humorless laugh before taking a long sip of whiskey, relishing the burn as it slides down his throat. “Don’t even notice it anymore,” he lies, shifting in his seat. 

Your mouth tugs into a gentle frown as you shift, crawling closer to where he sits. You pluck the glass from his fingers, swallowing down the rest of the whiskey before setting it on the coffee table. Logan watches as you swing your legs over his lap, your robe riding up to reveal the smooth expanse of your thighs. 

The weight of you against his lap sends a rush of arousal down his spine and he can feel his cock stir in his slacks. If you notice, you ignore it, instead reaching for a small bottle of lotion on the end table and squeezing a dollop into your palm. You rub your hands together twice before reaching for his right hand. 

Your thumbs dig into the meat of his palm, a low groan slipping from his throat before he can stop himself. You bite your lip, but Logan can see the sly smile beneath. 

“You help take care of everyone else,” you begin, rubbing the lotion further into his calloused palms. “Who helps care for you?”

Logan feels flayed open, that pull that spins him into your orbit only growing stronger as you see down to his very soul. Caliban swore you weren’t a mutant but Logan still couldn’t shake the idea that you were something more. 

“What are you?” he asks, his eyes tracing the lines of your face, watching you concentrate on his hand. 

You slide your fingers along the pink, puffy lines between his knuckles, a slow hiss escaping between his teeth as you massage the tender flesh. He wonders if you know how sensitive his skin is now, how each time his claws come out it hurts just a little bit more than the last time. 

“I’m human,” you reply, positioning his hand to focus on the back, tracing the fine scars there. “Same as you.”

“I ain’t human.”

Your eyes flick to his as you drop his right hand and reach for his left. “You’re human where it counts,” you say, beginning to massage his hand. 

Logan scoffs. “Yeah? And where’s that?”

You release his hand and place your palm in the center of his chest, your fingers splayed over his heart. “In here.”

He swallows hard, his gaze dropping to where your fingers are resting against him. You touch him like you’re unafraid, undeterred by the metal in his bones and the sometimes primal rage that courses through his blood. His killed—for the sake of war, self preservation, and for reasons not so innocent—but you can somehow still see past that, to some soft part of him that still lingers. 

Logan itches to touch you, to pull you closer and—

“You can touch me,” you say, as if pulling the thought from his head. “I like when you touch me.”

Logan slides his palms up your thighs and around your hips, pulling you flush against his lap, your clothed center pressing against the fly of his slacks. He doesn’t miss the gasp that falls from your lips or the shift of your hips as you try and press closer. 

That thrum of aliveness begins to churn in his veins as he slowly unties the sash of your robe, allowing the fabric to fall to the side. You’re bare underneath and Logan can’t help but lean forward and press a kiss to the center of your chest. 

“You dress like this jus’ for me?” he asks, dragging his lips towards your breast and pulling a nipple into his mouth, working into a taut peak beneath his tongue.

Your fingers wind themselves into his hair, holding him close. “Yes,” you breathe, a whimper falling from your lips as he moves to your other breast. “Only for you.”

A surge of possessiveness rushes through his veins and Logan can feel the prickle between his knuckles, his claws threatening to unsheathe at the thought of you with another man. Instead, he doubles his focus onto you, his beard scraping against your skin as he licks a hot stripe across your nipple. “Damn right, only for me,” he growls. 

You shift your hips in response, seeking more friction against the hard length of his cock pressing against you. Logan groans, his fingers digging deeper into the flesh of your hips, urging you to move against him. The soft, wet heat of your cunt through the thin fabric of your panties and his slacks sets his control on a razors edge. 

Logan leans back slightly to lock eyes with you, your pupils blown wide with want, your skin flushed with desire. You find his gaze, hazy with pleasure, but focused and then you smile at him, bottom lip pinned between your teeth. 

“And you, Logan,” you whisper, your hands sliding down the column of his neck, “you’re only for me.” 

That hook you’ve lodged in him sinks deeper and he’s too far gone to care. The mystery behind your presence in his life is one he’s willing to spend the rest of his days unraveling so long as you stay right here, continuing to bewitch him with the beauty of your soul. 

Your allure was more potent than any pheromone, more intoxicating than any aphrodisiac. In his waking moments, Logan found his thoughts drifting to you more often than not and the frequency between his visits grew shorter and shorter until he found himself lured into your embrace almost every night. 

He was good at lying to himself, writing off these visits as nothing more than comfort—the need to find warmth in a world that so seldom offered him that luxury. But that lie grew bitter, warped in the liminal space between midnight and dawn where you stripped him down to his very bones, saw through the gruff and grit he wrapped himself in. Saw him as something more than the sum of his sins. 

Logan couldn’t hide from you and he didn’t know if he wanted to. Those carefully crafted walls that surrounded him cracked and crumbled, turning to dust at his feet. In that mysterious way of yours, you always knew what he needed—a warm meal; your tender, healing touch as you helped him stitch the worst of his wounds; the soft, pliant feel of your skin on his as you kissed him deep, the kind of kiss that burned like wildfire and whiskey.

God help him as your gravity pulled him in closer, your orbits circling tighter and tighter, destined for an inevitable crash. 

“What am I to you?”

Those five words root him where he stands, flaying him down to his very marrow. Logan should have expected this question, should have known that eventually you’d ask. 

He wants to tell you the truth, speak those words that burn against his tongue, begging to be said.

He wants to tell you of his need to find you when the days are long and the nights are longer. When the weariness he feels in his bones aches more than usual and seems to bleed into his very soul. 

When he needs to feel something more than the hollowness that seems to grow inside his chest. The slow carving away of his humanity that’s been scraping closer and closer to emptiness for years. 

When he needs to be wrapped in warmth and set afire by something almost like love. Like home. 

But he says none of this as he gazes over at you sitting at the kitchen table, one knee pulled up to your chest. You look small sitting there, vulnerable in a way he hasn’t seen before. 

And instead, he remains silent, praying you’ll let the conversation slide. But he knows better. 

You glance up at him, your gaze piercing straight through the heart of him and then you devastate him with three simple words. 

“I love you.”

The air punches from his lungs and for a moment it feels like he’s forgotten how to breathe. Your words tear through him, cutting deeper than any knife, and his hands curl into fists as you slice him open. 

“Don’t,” Logan rasps, his voice rough, barely more than whisper. He avoids your eyes, knowing that if he looks and sees the sincerity in your gaze, it’ll be his undoing. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” Your voice cracks with emotion as you push away from the table, your arms wrapping around yourself. “What about those words can’t you hear?”

His jaw clenches and for every step you take closer him, he takes a half step back, as if he’s trying to distance himself from the truth beginning to swirl between you. You can’t love him. Loving someone has brought him nothing but misery and pain, loss and suffering and he’ll be damned if he drags you down that road. 

So, instead he lies, the words bitter in his mouth. 

“This ain’t love, sweatheart,” he says, gesturing between the two of you, “This is fuckin’.”

You inhale sharply between your teeth and your expression twists into disbelief, the beginning of tears welling in your eyes. “Fucking?” you bite back, your voice trembling but still firm. “You think after all these months that this is just fucking?”

Logan doesn’t answer. And he doesn’t move. He simply stands there, jaw clenched so tightly he could shatter bones. He can’t say yes. If he does that, if he voices that lie into existence, he’ll have to spend the rest of his days remembering the look in your eyes right now—destroyed. 

Your breath starts to shudder as you continue to step closer towards him. And he can feel you, warm and comforting, even though you shake with barely contained anger. “Look me in the eye and tell me that’s all this is,” you demand, your voice thick with emotion. “Tell me that when you come to me in the middle of the night, broken down, bloody and bruised, it’s just fucking. Tell me that when I touch you, hold you, love you, that it means nothing.” 

He remain silent. 

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “God, for someone with heightened senses, you’re blind to what’s right in front of you.” Your trembling voice matches the shake to your hands, your fury pouring off you in waves. “You really are a coward, aren’t you?”

Logan nostrils flare at the insult and he can feel the prickle of his claws between his knuckles. He knows his rage isn’t with you, but himself. And yet he can still feel his lips curl into a snarl. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he growls. 

“Oh, fuck you, Logan,” you seethe, your voice now raw, pain bleeding through every syllable. “You can’t even look me in the eye when you lie.”

His jaw clenches impossibly harder and he swears he can taste bone. Then, he finally meets your gaze head on, eyes flashing. “You think this ends well between us? You think I get to have somethin’ like this? Like you?” Logan’s voice cracks in a way that he loathes. “I can’t—”

The crack of your palm against his face is deafening. He barely moves from the impact, but emotionally you’ve landed him on his ass. Your eyes are wide as you stare up at him, unblinking.

Logan stands there, immobile, as he processes the sting of your slap. It doesn’t hurt, not physically. It’s the fact that you did it, the fact that you’re standing in front of him, chest heaving from the effort of your breathing as if you just ripped yourself open for him.

“Get out of my house,” you seethe, your voice softer than before, deflated.

Your words shouldn’t sting as much as they do. They shouldn’t wreck him and make him feel like he’s been ripped apart limb from limb. He should relish them, the push, the shove. He should revel in the confirmation that you’re finally seeing him for what he truly is—something undeserving of all the warmth and love you’ve given him. A stray animal that never should have been fed.

Logan swallows, his throat tight as he gives you a small nod. And then he does the only thing he knows how to do. 

He turns. And he walks.

His legs feel like lead, each step a feat and his brain is screaming at him to turn around. To fight. To beg. To plead. To say something, anything. 

But he doesn’t.

Logan exits the house, the front door slamming shut behind him. As he steps off the front step, the porch light above him clicks off, plunging the house into darkness. Your guiding light is gone, lost in the storm of his destruction.

Of all the wounds he’s ever taken, of all the scars that mar his skin, nothing has ever bled quite like this.

Charles watches with sharp eyes as Logan enters the old water tank and shuts the door behind him. The older man is in his wheelchair, tending to his plants as Logan walks around the place, picking up random bits of trash and the tray from breakfast. 

A soft “tsk” falls from Charles’ lips and echos in the small space. “Will you ever learn, Logan?” Charles’ voice seems tired, weary. 

Logan pauses and looks over at him, irritation already prickling along his skin. “Stay outta my head,” he snaps, slamming the tray down on a nearby table. 

He doesn’t need this, doesn’t want Charles sifting through his mind, seeing those pieces of you he so deeply cherishes. Pieces he doesn’t deserve. Pieces he doesn’t know if he’ll ever have within his grasp again. 

“She loves you,” Charles continues, seeming to ignore his request. 

Logan strides over to where Charles is sitting, unable to keep the ire from boiling over. He wants to sweep all the plants to the floor, destroy the one creative outlet Charles has, retaliate for the way he presses into the fresh bruises on his mind. “I’m begging you, just—”

Charles lifts the spray bottle beside him and directs the spray in Logan’s face, showering him in a fine mist of water. Logan freezes, water dripping from his face as his lips tighten in a thin line. He grits his teeth, an ache already blooming in his jaw. 

“What the fuck was that for?” he growls. 

“Are you a cat?” Charles asks, lowering the bottle. “No? Then stop being such a pussy.”

Logan stares at Charles, the vulgarity of the of man’s words leaving him temporarily speechless. He scrubs a hand down his face, wiping the rest of the water off with the sleeve of his shirt, scowl deepening. 

“You’re pushin’ it,” Logan warns. 

Charles simply smirks, finally setting the bottle down on the table. “Someone should. God knows you won’t push yourself. Not when it comes to matters of the heart.”

Logan sucks in a sharp breath and steps back from Charles, sitting down on the bed across from him. The old metal springs groan beneath his weight. He wants a bottle of whiskey, to quiet the thoughts in his head, at least temporarily, and fall into a drunken stupor. Anything but flaying open his feelings, especially his feelings about you. 

“What are you so afraid of?” Charles asks gently. “That she’ll see all your broken pieces?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Charles raises his eyebrow. “No? Logan, she’s already seen them. She knows what you are and she’s still here.”

“That’s not the point!” Logan roars, his voice echoing off the metal walls. His breathing comes out in short gasps and he knows he needs to rein himself in. Not only for himself but for Charles. It doesn’t take much to trigger a seizure these days and he doesn’t need the stress of this conversation to become a catalyst. 

Charles remains quiet, expression calm and Logan hangs his head, his voice softening into something raw. “It’s not about what she knows. It’s about who, about what, I am. I don’t deserve her.”

Bracing his elbows on his legs, Charles leans forward, a sympathetic smile tugging at his lips. “She knows all that, Logan. And she chooses you. Every night you come to her, she chooses you. How can you not see that?”

Logan doesn’t respond, but the weight of Charles’ words hang heavy against his shoulders. He looks down at his hands, seeing the callouses and crisscrossing scars. His body is a physical map of violence, each faded pink line a story of pain, regret and death. 

But you’ve never seen them that way. You’ve only ever looked at them with reverence, traced your fingertips along each one and wondered about their stories. Made him feel whole instead of broken and used. 

“You have a choice to make, Logan,” Charles says, interrupting the silence. “Let her in…or keep running. Don’t make her choose for you.” 

For days, Logan’s mind is plagued by replays of his last moments with you and his conversation with Charles. His already sleepless nights are further tormented by dreams of you, the devastated expression on your face haunting him.

The memory of your face, the crack in your usually steadfast voice, the tremor in your hand after you struck him. They all play in a nauseating loop in his brain, punishing him in a way he’s never felt before.

His life reverts to autopilot—drink, fight, drive, but nothing quells the gnawing ache in his chest. He couldn’t stay in the smelting plant with both Caliban and Charles staring at him, watching his every move as if he were a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. Charles was running out of medications, a few days supply left at most, and Logan knew he was better off leaving Charles in Caliban’s care than his own.

Now, he sits on the edge of a dingy motel bed, the scent of cheap whiskey and cigar smoke clinging to his clothes. His eyes are dry and heavy with exhaustion and his skin is itching with that familiar want to be near you. It started as an annoying tug, but has now grown into a maddening want.

He knows he should ignore it. But he was never that strong.

Before he can talk himself out of it, convince himself that this is an astronomically stupid fucking idea, he’s on his feet, keys in hand and driving down those lonely roads towards you.

It’s late when he reaches your house, like it usually is, and he half expects the porch light to remain dark, a cold, bleak reminder of how badly he’s fucked up. Instead, he finds that single porch light illuminated, shining like a beacon of hope. Logan walks up onto the porch, but you don’t open the door like you’ve done so many times before. 

He contemplates leaving, turning around and getting back in the car and drinking himself into a semblance of sleep. But then he hears you, your heartbeat echoing beyond the wooden frame, as steady and as comforting as it’s always been. Logan pauses, wondering if he should try the knob and come inside—if you’ll even let him.

If you even should.

With a sigh, he lowers himself to the ground, his joints aching in protest as he rests his back against the door. “I’m not good at this,” he finally says, hoping you’re listening. “I’ve been alive for too long. Seen too much shit.” Logan pauses, his words burning in his throat. “I’ve lost too many people.”

He hears you shift behind him, your head thudding softly against the door as you listen. His relief is almost palpable knowing you’re there, that you’re at least willing to listen to him. Leaning back, Logan closes his eyes and exhales a heavy breath. “The only way I know how to keep people safe is to push ‘em away. And I need to keep you safe.”

The words feel foreign leaving his mouth, as if they’re uncovering a truth he’s long kept secret. He feels exposed in a way he’s not used to, raw and honest, and the truth of his words burns. Logan can still hear you on the other side of the door, your breathing slow and steady, yet laced with something—hesitation, maybe, or hurt. It makes his chest ache in a new and unfamiliar way. 

“I’m tired,” he continues, his voice softer. “I’m so fuckin’ tired, sweetheart. Tired of fightin’ when all I want—” Logan swallows hard. “All I want is you.”

The porch light hums above him, the night is alive with the chirping of crickets, but the silence that follows is almost deafening. 

Logan doesn’t deserve you, he knows that. You should turn him away, tell him to leave, to kick him back to the desert to lick his wounds alone. He doesn’t know how to be someone’s partner, their lover. He’s not sure if he ever has, really, too hung up on all the ways he paints himself as a bad man. Someone unworthy. 

Except with you, he finds himself wanting to fight. To prove he’s not as hard and unyielding as the metal bones inside him. That somewhere deep inside him there still lingers warmth and affection and the capacity to love. 

He’s bracing himself for the worst when he hears the faint sounds of the lock turning. The door creaks open and he shifts to look up at you. One of your well used blankets is wrapped around your shoulders, your hair tousled from sleep and your eyes are red and wet with unshed tears. Logan’s heart thuds heavily in his chest as you stand there and he turns to face you, pushing up onto his knees. Your expression is carefully masked, betraying little of your underlying emotions, and he carefully crawls forward, testing the waters of how close you’ll let him get.

His knees ache as he kneels on the hard concrete, but he’d crawl through glass if you asked him to. Slowly, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you to him as he nuzzles his face into the softness and warmth of your belly. Your comforting scent floods his senses as he waits for your anger, your rejection.

Instead, you sigh, a long pent up breath released in a steady exhale and your fingers sink into the disheveled hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close to you. “You’re an asshole,” you finally say, though your tone lacks any venom or spite.

Logan feels it then, the tension slowly easing from your body as you allow him to sink further into your frame. His heart lurches his chest, the faintest flicker of hope fluttering against his ribs.

“Yes,” he mumbles into your shirt.

“You hurt me.”

He pulls back as you gently push at his shoulders and sink down to the ground in front of him. But you don’t push him away any further and instead, lace your fingers through his. “I should tell you to fuck off,” you continue, your eyes focused on where you’re touching him. “But I can’t.”

His voice comes out in a whisper. “Why?”

Your eyes meet his and your gaze pierces straight through his soul. “You know why.”

And he does. In truth, he thinks he’s always known, long before you ever spoke those three little words out loud. Words so simple, yet so profound. Words he rarely speaks, while others casually toss them around. Words he has rarely felt, but with you feel as natural as breathing, as the sun rising in east.

Words he’s still afraid to say, despite everything, despite every cell in his body screaming at him.

You look at him like you know, because of course you do. You’ve always known him, in that uncanny way of yours since he first saw you standing in the rain. So instead of ire or disappointment at his lack of response, you simply squeeze his hand, grounding him to your reality. 

“You don’t have to say it,” you whisper, your voice soft and steady. “Not yet.”

Logan looks at you, his brows furrowed. He can’t fathom what he’s done in this life to deserve you, your patience, your unwavering belief in him. “You make it hard not to,” he finally rasps, his voice rough and uneven. “Love you, I mean.”

The admission hangs heavy in the air, raw and jagged, much like him. It’s close to what you want to hear, but not quite. And yet he sees something warm and bright blossom on your face. 

You lean in, raising your free hand to lightly trace the curve of his jaw, scratching at the scruff there. “You’re a man of action, Logan,” you say, pressing in closer, your breath mingling with his. “Wanna show me instead?”

This—this is a language he’s fluent in. 

Using his lips, tongue, hands and cock to write on your body all the words he cannot say. He’s mastered your shape, the way your hips curve beneath his palm, the softness of your belly and breasts, the heat between your thighs stoked hotter only by him. He knows exactly where to press, where to nip and suck and tease to elicit all those pretty little moans and gasps of pleasure. 

Logan’s already drawn one orgasm out of you, his fingers still thrusting against you as you ride out your high, your thighs shuddering against his forearm. You’re flushed and breathy as you reach for him, urging him up from between your thighs.  

You pull him close, fingers sinking into his hair as you lick into his mouth, not caring that your slick still stains his beard and lingers against his tongue. He swallows your gasp as he knocks your knees apart and slots himself between your legs, his cock heavy against your belly. 

He wants you. In all the ways he can think of and not just like this, naked and pliant beneath him. He wants your sleepily whispered hellos each morning and your softly murmured goodnights each evening. He wants the warm, weighty press of your body against his as you sit on the couch beside him sipping whiskey. 

He wants, he wants, he wants. 

As his kisses grow more fervent, you grow impatient and push at his chest, urging him back. “Lie back,” you command softly, your breath damp against his lips, “Let me take care of you.”

He wants to protest, deny you this request. This is supposed to be about you, about using his body to show you all the things his words can’t say. He’d spend the whole night between your thighs, using his mouth, tongue and fingers to worship if you’d let him. But there’s something in your gaze that forces him to comply and he gives in, rolling onto his back. 

You straddle his thighs, your slick cunt sliding along the length of his cock. Logan groans and his hands reach for your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh as he encourages you to move. “This is s’pose to be about you,” he husks as you slowly begin to rock your hips back and forth. 

“Oh, it is,” you answer, licking your lips as you brace your hands on his chest. “Who else can get you hard and needy beneath them?”

A low growl escapes from his throat. “No one.”

A wicked smile curls at your lips as you drag your heat along him, the blunt head of his cock nudging your clit with every slow, deliberate rock of your hips. The sensation has his control unraveling and he slides his hands along your thighs to palm the curve of your ass. 

You press into his touch, continuing to roll your hips as you lean forward to press an open mouthed kiss to the corner of his jaw. “You see,” you murmur, “this is for me.”

Reaching between your bodies, you grasp him in your hand and line him up. Slowly, almost tortuously slow, you sink down on his cock, taking him inch by inch until he’s fully sheathed inside of you. A sharp inhale escapes him as your warm, tight walls surround him and Logan knows this feels different. 

This isn’t merely fucking anymore, the melding of flesh for the pure sake of pleasure, of briefly escaping the nightmare of his life, of finding solace in sin. You’ve somehow managed to bleed yourself into him, to wrap yourself around his heart. 

You feel as if you’re a part of him, lodged deep between his ribs and that if he were to try to remove you, he’d kill himself in the process. A part of him knows this feeling has always been there, back when you first entered his limo. The feeling threatens to choke him, to fill his love soaked lungs until all he can breathe is you. 

He loves you. 

Pure and unfiltered and it terrifies him. 

“I—fuck, I,” he chokes out, the words caught in his throat. “I feel—”

Your hands run over his chest, up along his collarbones, your fingers blazing a trail over his skin. “I know, Logan,” you whisper, your hips rocking languidly against his. 

He grips your thighs, almost tight enough to bruise, helping guide your movements, but also prove to himself you’re real. Logan’s chest heaves as he watches you ride him, your hips rocking harder, faster, dragging moans out of both of you. You lean back just enough to change the angle, driving him deeper and he bucks his hips, meeting your thrusts with a force that has you crying out his name.

And yet it’s not enough. He needs to wrap himself around you, twine his fingers through your hair and hold your mouth to his until he’s completely consumed you. His hands slide up your back towards your waist and he pulls you down against him, mouth hot and insistent against your neck as he continues to fuck up into you. 

In one fluid motion, Logan grips your thighs and flips you onto your back, pinning you beneath him, cock still sheathed deep within your cunt. You arch beneath him as he sets a brutal, devastating pace, the raw intensity of his movements stealing short, gasps breaths from your lips with each thrust. A shiver ripples through you as he draws a nipple into his mouth, his name tumbling from you like a prayer.

“Fuck, there it is,” he growls. “I love all those little sounds you make.”

His choice of word isn’t lost on either of you and your eyes meet his as your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving faint red crescents as you cling to him. “Logan,” you gasp, your voice trembling as he hits that soft spot deep inside you. “More.”

“You want more?” he rasps, gripping your thighs and pulling them higher around his waist. The new angle has you crying out, the sound echoing in the room as he continues to slam into you with a force that has the bed creaking beneath you.

“Ah, fuck, yes,” you moan, your head tipping back. 

Logan takes advantage of your offering, his lips and teeth marking a path down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin in a way that’s sure to leave a burn come the morning. There’s a possessiveness to his touch, a need to claim you, to prove to you that this is all he needs—your embrace, your warmth, your love.

“You’re so fuckin’ good to me,” he growls against your skin, his hand sliding down between your bodies and finding where you’re joined. He can feel himself pounding into you, your combined arousal coating his fingers as he finds your clit and begins to rub in tight circles. “So goddamn perfect. You were made for me, sweetheart, you know that?”

Your cunt flutters around him and he knows you’re close, your thrusts against him growing erratic. He feels his own impending release, but he needs you to come first, needs to feel you shatter against him. His fingers press more firmly against your clit and with a breathy moan, your body tenses, back arching off the bed as your orgasm crashes into you.

“That’s it,” Logan groans, his own thrusts faltering as he feels you tighten around him, pulling him in deeper. “Look at you, comin’ so pretty for me.” He slows just enough to prolong your release, his thrusts deliberate as he draws out every ounces of pleasure until you’re trembling beneath him. 

It’s overwhelming—the sensation of you beneath him, around him; the cling of your fingers to his shoulders; the warm, damp breath against his neck; the absolute perfection of this moment right now. In all his years on this earth, he’s never experienced anything like this. The desire to completely consume someone, body and soul, and be consumed return. He wants his dying breath to be your name.

Something inside of Logan snaps, and as you try and catch your breath as you come down from your high, he presses your legs higher, folding you beneath him in a way that has his cock pressing deeper than before. The change has you whimpering and he looks down to find your expression as wrecked as he feels. He pauses his thrusts just long enough to grasp both your wrists and pin them above your head before he picks up his pace again, fucking into you with an almost ruthless intensity.

“I love you,” he growls, his thrusts growing erratic, his control quickly unraveling with every whimper and cry of his name. “God, I fucking love you.”

For a few moments, he doesn’t even realized what he’s said. Then he looks down at you, your gaze trained on his face and that soft, knowing smile of yours on your lips. “Logan,” you gasp, “I know. I’ve always known.”

Logan lets out a rough, shuddering breath, his entire body trembling with the weight of his confession. Any response he has dies in his throat as he presses his forehead to yours, his entire body wound tight. He’s so fucking close, can feel his orgasm coiling hot and tight in his gut, but it’s more than your warm heat drawing him in—it’s everything. 

“Tell me,” he grits out, his hips chasing, chasing, chasing that release.

You lean up as much as you can with your hands still pinned above you and lick an open mouthed kiss against his lips. “I love you, Logan.”

And that’s all it takes. He groans into your mouth as he finally lets go, his body tensing as his release crashes into him. He spills himself deep inside you, shallowly thrusting into your cunt as his rhythm slows.

Logan releases your hands, and for a long moment, there’s only the sound of heavy breathing, of heartbeats slowing, the two of you tangled in the aftermath.

Logan’s restless and unable to sleep despite your smaller frame tucked alongside him, the weight of your head resting against his chest. From his periphery, he can see his phone illuminating with unread texts, no doubt from Caliban urging his return. Charles has been deteriorating faster than Logan cares to admit, his mind gone more often than not, raving about new mutants. He needs drugs faster than Logan can procure them.

His mind churns, the reality of the outside world looming closer and he contemplates slipping from your grasp when you shift, curling yourself further into him. You don’t speak, not yet, but he can tell you’re alert, floating somewhere in that space between sleep and full wakefulness. Your fingers start to move of their own accord, the gentle pressure of your fingertips tracing over an old scar along his ribs, mapping out an old battle he no longer remembers. 

Beside him, his phone buzzes again and Logan sighs.

“Sounds important,” you murmur, voice thick with sleep.

He wants to keep ignoring it, stay wrapped in the quiet cocoon you’ve thrown around him, but Logan knows he can’t. It’s a cruel reminder of the chaos that plagues him beyond the sanctuary of your embrace. 

“You can go to him, Logan,” you continue, fingers never stopping their slow path along his skin. “I know you’ll be back.”

“How,” he starts, licking his dry lips, “how do you always know?”

Logan’s asked versions of this question before. You’ve always brushed him off, given a coy answer and steered the conversation towards something else. For a moment, he thinks tonight will be the same.

But then you answer.

“I can feel you,” you answer softly, your breath warm and damp against his skin. “I just—” You pause and turn to look up at him and then disentangle yourself from his embrace. “Stand up,” you urge, nudging at his side until he complies.

He blinks at you in confusion, but you just smile at him, soft and sleepy, and gently cup the side of his face. “Now, close your eyes.”

Logan does as he’s told, chasing after your touch as you step back from him, settling somewhere beyond him on the bed. “I’m going to move and you tell me where I am.”

The soft rustle of bedsheets follows and then, stillness. You’re quiet, but he can sense you, just off to his right, but too far away to touch. “My right, but farther back in the room.”

You move again, keeping your movements light. Again, he pinpoints you, this time towards his left, closer, but still too far away to grasp. “Left.”

A final movement, this time even closer, your proximity flooding his senses, sending a rush of warmth down his spine. Logan reaches out, finding the curve of your hips, hands tucking underneath the shirt you had slipped on earlier in the night, splaying his palms against your back. He opens his eyes and meets your gaze, alive in the predawn glow.

“How did you know?” you ask, looping your arms around his neck.

Understanding dawns on him, the answer so simple, yet so profound. Pinpointing where you were had nothing to do with his heightened senses and everything to do with just you—the way you’ve molded yourself to him like a second skin. “I could feel you,” he answers. “I could—I just knew.”

You lean forward, pressing the lightest of kisses against the corner of his mouth. Logan sighs into your mouth, his eyes fluttering close as you press your forehead to his. “It’s like that,” you whisper. “This undeniable pull, an invisible string that connects me to you and it tug, tug, tugs, until…there you are.”

His phone continues to buzz, growing more insistent as the soft blues and grays of the morning bleed into more golden hues. With a reluctance you both feel, Logan peels himself away, finally answering the phone with an irritation he doesn’t bother hiding. 

You watch him go, standing on the porch with the light casting a halo around your head. Your smile is gentle, but stained with worry and yet you remain stoic, the steady pillar holding up the fractured remains of his life.

As he drives away, he catches one last look at you in the rearview mirror and he’ll spend the next few months wishing he told you—he feels you too. 

The last one hundred miles have dragged on for eons, the road before him stretching into an almost infinite distance. Logan finds himself darting his eyes towards the dashboard clock, growing increasingly frustrated when the numbers move only a few minutes at a time, the slow passage of time seeming to taunt him. 

It’s been months since he saw you last, though no fault of his own. His memories are hazy—a swirling fog of confusion, pain and burning fever. He’s not even sure how he survived, whether it was modern medicine or sheer stubbornness. Or something more. 

You believe in fate?

Your words echo in his mind, soft and sweet, and he feels a familiar pang of longing in his chest. 

Fate or not, something kept a spark alive in him, pulsing through his veins with each sluggish beat as he slowly and painfully healed. His wounds are still pink and tender to the touch, more of his skin marred by death and destruction. 

As he turns into your subdivision, the night quiet, a cold, creeping anxiety snakes along his spine. What if you’ve given up on him? Figured this last absence was the real deal, all his idle promises of staying away finally coming to fruition. 

But as Logan drives down your street, he sees it—the single porch light illuminating in the night. Acting like the beacon it’s always been, leading him safely to land. 

To you. 

Logan pulls into the driveway and shifts the truck into park. Turning in his seat, he glances back towards the young girl curled up on the backseat. Laura’s face is relaxed in sleep, her hands tucked protectively under her chin. She fell asleep several hours ago, the soft rhythm of the tires against pavement lulling her to sleep. 

Logan’s been many things in his life. Son, brother, fighter, friend. Lover. He never thought he’d add father to that list. While he can’t quite find it in him to call himself that just yet—even though Laura readily and easily calls him dad—he no longer denies the protectiveness he feels towards her.

Easing the door to the truck open, Logan steps out and gently shuts it behind him, loathe to disturb her just yet. 

Here he is showing up at your door like he always has—late, quiet, and carrying a heavy weight he feels only he can shoulder. His hand is poised to knock, knuckles clenched, but he pauses, unsure if he even has the right to be here. 

But then there you are, the front door opening to reveal your tired but relieved face, months of worry etched into your skin, your eyes already brimming with unshed tears. 

“Logan,” you breathe, pulling him gently by the wrist and leading him inside. You don’t ask why he’s there. He suspects you already know. 

The air inside the house is just as he remembers. Warm and inviting and laced with the faint, comforting smell of you. Logan inhales deeply, letting the scent settle somewhere in the parts of him that still feel alive, that thrum with the memory of your touch. 

Your fingers still linger against his wrist and he can feel the heat radiating from your body, but you’re not close enough. And yet, he’s afraid to reach out, pull you into his arms. Afraid of the pity or obligation you’ll feel to comfort him, to allay all his fears.

As if reading his thoughts, you gently cup the side of his face, your nails scratching along his jaw. Logan flinches slightly, his body so used to pain these past months he’s almost forgotten the tenderness of your touch. But he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he closes his eyes, a ragged breath falling from his lips and his head dips forward. 

“C’mere,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

For a moment, he doesn’t move, but then he slides his arms along your back, pulling you against him. You feel real and solid and alive pressed this close. Never one for overt physical touch, Logan’s surprised by how much he missed this—the simple act of just holding you. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he inhales deeply, his breath warm and damp against your skin. 

He doesn’t say anything, unsure where to even begin. The weight of his grief, his weariness, feels heavier than any burden he’s ever shouldered before and it’s almost desperate the way he clings to you. Like you’re the only thing tethering him to the earth. If you were to let go, he’d fall apart. 

Logan doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he feels the hot trail of tears against his cheeks. You run your fingers through his hair, murmuring soft reassurances as you hold him. 

“I couldn’t feel you, Logan,” you whisper into his neck. “Several days of just…nothing. I thought that—”

The words lodge themselves in your throat, but he knows what they are just the same. 

He pulls back just enough to look at you, your eyes glistening with tears that match the ones rolling down his weathered face. Your expression is marred with pain, raw and unfiltered, but also with a bright flicker of relief. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasps, voice rough with emotion. “I got dragged into some bad fuckin’ shit. I almost…we—”

You quiet him with a soft brush of your fingers against his lips. “It’s okay, Logan,” you whisper. “Tell me about it later. I’m just happy you’re home.”

Home. 

Logan gaze softens at your words, but guilt gnaws at him. He doesn’t deserve this—your unwavering faith in him, the patience you’ve shown him, the light you’ve been in his dark, endless nights. But here you are, giving him everything he’s never asked for but so desperately craved. 

“C’mon,” you murmur, dragging him from his thoughts, “Let’s get you settled.”

It’s well past two in the morning by the time Logan finally carries Laura into the house, tucking her comfortably into the guest bedroom. Turning from the bed, he finds you there, leaning against the doorframe. You reach for him, in that soft, gentle way you always do, and lead him into your bedroom. 

He doesn’t protest when you sit him down at the edge of the bed and begin undressing him. Kneeling before him, you unlace his boots and peel off his socks, setting them aside. With a slight press to his knees, you force his legs wider, slotting yourself between them. 

Despite the late hour, the weariness and fatigue tugging at his bones, Logan feels his cock twitch as your fingers brush underneath the hem of his shirt. 

It’s been so long since he’s felt you. 

He dreamt of you, in those fevered moments where he didn’t know where one part of his body began or ended. When his entire existence had been boiled down to raw nerves and sluggishly knitting flesh. Through the haze of pain, he wondered if he’d ever feel your kiss again, feel the frantic press of your fingers into his shoulders, feel the warm, wet heat of your cunt stretching around him. 

You toss the shirt aside and he can feel your gaze lingering over the new scars, the pink, raised lines of flesh that are still healing. With a reverence he’s not worthy of, you trace your fingertips along the three jagged scars from where X-24 had ripped into him. 

“What happened to you?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper as you move to trace more of his scars. 

Logan tells you then about Pierce and the Reavers, about Laura and the other mutant children. His throat grows tight as he continues, relaying the loss of Caliban, Charles and the Munsons, and the final confrontation between himself and his clone. 

He tells you how Laura saved him. How her and the other children brought him to safety over the Canadian border. How he spent the next months fighting with every fiber of his being to knit himself whole. 

For you. 

You lean into him as he looks away, jaw tightening as he tries to shove down the memories of everything he’s lost. Your touch is light against his face as you trace the angle of his jaw, and reach up to press the lightest of kisses against his lips. 

Logan exhales into your mouth as you kiss him again, soft and tender and warm. You seem to breathe him in, imbue life into his weary flesh and reignite the spark he’s kept alive for you. 

He wants to do more—to pull you into his arms, to taste you, to fuck into you until he can’t breathe. But exhaustion pulls heavily on his bones, threatening to sink him. 

Logan knows you can feel his hesitancy because you keep kissing him softly, punctuating each press of your lips with whispered reassurance. Your fingers card through his hair as you lean back. “Just let me hold you?” 

Your voice cracks at your request and Logan can only nod, unable to deny you. You help him shuffle out of his pants before coaxing him further into the bed. He moves slowly and he knows you don’t miss the creaking of his joints, the soft groan of discomfort. 

Coming to rest on his side, you tuck into him, throwing a leg over his hips and pulling him close. He sighs into your touch, the weight of the last few months pressing just a little bit less as you press a kiss to the hollow of his throat. 

“Don’t leave me,” you whisper into his skin, soft and damp. 

Logan feels his heart clench at your words. He’s hurt you. He knows that. Not just inadvertently with his most recent disappearance, but all the other times, too. Those times when he ran, afraid of what your words and touch meant. Afraid to accept what you’ve always so freely given. 

His hand slips under the hem of your shirt, fingers splaying across your back. “You kept the light on,” he husks, unable to keep the break out of his voice.”

Your lips quirk into a soft smile. “I always will, Logan.”

[lieutenantselnia]

I randomly decided to dig out my old dream diary and I'm literally howling with laughter right now about some of the stuff I wrote down there😂😂 So much mildly cursed but in hindsight also extremely hilarious stuff😭😂

For context, I've been wanting to learn lucid dreaming for a long time (still can't do it unfortunately), and for a while during my teenage years I actually tried writing a dream diary to learn remembering my dreams more clearly (according to my notes I actually managed to even get a few semi-lucid dreams!). Most of these are from the first half of 2018, when I actually managed to write down my dreams consistently for a couple months, plus a few from 2019 and early 2020, in total about 20 dreams. I thought it might be funny to share some of the most hilarious, cursed or just really random moments from them:

I met with people that I either went to school with at the time or used to go to school with before, and we had to participate in various competitions or challenges, usually it was either something absurdly dangerous and cruel or something extremely embarrassing. That sort of stuff occurred in multiple dreams, like one time we were in the sports hall of my old primary school and had to kill each other with spears, another time me and some classmates were participating in a challenge of some random YouTuber and had to jump from a really high tower into a bath tub (which had no water in it but a trampoline).

We had to present our short film projects in English class (this is something we actually did in real life), and one group did a retelling of "The Lion King" where Timon died at the finale and that was just how the film ended. Also General Burkhalter from Hogan's Heroes was there as a film critic. He liked that ending even though most other people were just really confused about it.

I met Heinrich Himmler and Reinhard Heydrich on a Christmas market and they were a gay couple and I took stupid selfies with them (what the fuck). In another dream Himmler was together with Joseph Goebbels instead, but before I woke up they told me it was actually just a prank and when I looked at the date it was suddenly April Fool's Day.

On my 15th birthday (in real life) I dreamed that it was summer and Christmas at the same time. (I live in the northern hemisphere so that doesn't happen here. Also my birthday is obviously not at Christmas.)

So. Many. Dreams. About. Thrawn. I swear about half of all the dreams I wrote down were just about me being in love with Thrawn and trying to get together with him, the nonsense level of the surrounding scenarios usually varying. There are too many to explain them all, but one of my favourite quote from one of the diary entries is probably "Thrawn and I had an ugly child", it's just so blunt and random😭 In another dream Thrawn randomly had a beard and I lowkey hated it, and in another he turned out to just be a human guy with make-up and I was super disappointed when I woke up.

A bunch of doctors and scientists were investigating our garden pond and randomly found the corpse of a blue-haired girl, but they weren't interested in her at all and just threw her onto our compost heap💀

I was Tony Stark's adoptive daughter (no idea why, I'm not even in the Marvel fandom) and when someone broke into our house to steal his inventions, I tried fighting the guy off and we had a duel with using a pot and a frying pan as weapons. He was arrested and we went eating tacos to celebrate.

Not gonna lie reading through all this madness actually makes me want to start writing a dream diary again😂 Like, even if I still don't learn lucid dreaming, at least I'll have something to laugh about again in a few years xD

[nosyrobin]

Hi, I just wanted to apologize for my possibly horrible English, it's not the language I speak, anyway I wanted to make a request about how Damian would react if the reader was a demigod(if you can make the reader a demigod of hypnos)😺

And I love your writing 🫶 Keep it up!(And sorry again for the possible horrible English :[ )

|| DAMIAN’S REACTION TO READER BEING A DEMIGOD OF HYPNOS ||🌙

A/N: also your English is fine! No worries, here is your order🫶🏾 and I’m glad you love my work!

His first reaction is probably like asking about your powers and what can you do. With how there are superhero and then there’s wonder women…he’s gonna believe you are a demigod. 😭 who wouldn’t. (A sane person that’s not a hero.)

If you were a civilian just trying to live a normal life, he can respect that at most. But he would call you up if he needs someone knocked you. Why? Because you have Hypnotic Gaze. Your gaze can put people into a deep sleep. It’s usual really, Bruce is glad to know Damian’s friend or whoever you are to him isn’t a bad person using your gaze for the wrong doing.

I feel like Hypnos!reader would smell like lavender and vanilla to increase the melatonin levels of their powers or how then make people feel.

Though, imagine the family’s shock seeing Tim full out knocked out all because of your gaze. The family praises you for having the man sleep.

But Bruce with his paranoia would test your abilities of what you can do and how long is your hypnotic gaze.

You also found the power of Sleep Induction/Manipulation. Your father Hypnos had the power to induce sleep in mortals and even other gods. He also manipulate dreams and nightmares. So you can do that as well.

You found that power out when you had a sleepover with Damian. You frowned, putting a hand to damian’s sweaty forehead. He started to calm down and relax in your warm touch, you saw his nightmares and changed them to pleasant dreams.

You two are definitely a sweet duo, sole even say couple going as far. Bruce approves seeing his son doesn’t seem so “aggressive” around when you are there

Damian always demanding Bruce to let you come over for a a sleepover, only for you two to just sleep the entire sleep over. He holds you like a teddy bear with your fingers in his hair.

Basically being used a sleeping device😭 oh lord imagine the chaos’s Bruce would have you do.

Especially if he needs you as the last resort to knock out a rouge.

[sombrashe]

Hi

I just read the namgyu fic you posted and it's incredible 🫶❤️

Would you write something like that with Jun-ho or Dae-ho like he is taking out his frustration out on her or on her throat

suffocation ∿ dae-ho x reader & jun-ho x reader

smut

content x fem!reader for daeho & x gn!reader for junho, angry daeho & junho, bratty!reader, "crybaby"reader, reader has a vagina in daehos, rough smut, use of pussy, pussy slapping, throat fucking, overstimulation, not edited

notes im so glad people are enjoying that fic because honestly i got worried i didn't make it horny enough somehow 😭 / also i'm sorry but you can really tell who my fav is lol

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ long post ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

it takes a lot for this man to get frustrated in his day-to-day life and it's nearly impossible for him to get frustrated with you. that is of course if you didn't know about this one secret hack.

“I love you.”

“Heard.”

“... Heard …”

your ears perk up at the sudden change in tone. harshness sleeping into his every syllable. rolling your eyes you go back to scrolling on your phone. you had a dream that he cheated and despite knowing it isn’t real you need to be alone for a little to get over it. you may have been a little rude, and despite the unsettled feeling stuck deep in your brain stem you go to apologize. looking up he’s staring at you, honestly, it threw you off and you blanked. opening and closing your mouth you try to formulate something as simple as a sound. he doesn't look at you like this often, deep dark eyes piercing your very cerebrum. suddenly the room feels cold despite the shallow fever settling right under your skin. you learned real early on that doe eyes and a puffed-out bottom lip will get you nowhere with him when he has this look. nothing short of begging would get you even a chance to be heard. you never beg, it would go against the feeling deep in your abdomen.

“Come here, please.”

you're frozen in place. you can't seem to make yourself move. you don't want to piss him off further but for once you're not sure how severe your punishment will be. god, what if he doesn't let me cum for like a week, wtf… asshole. actually, let me calm down. standing, you obediently slot yourself against his side. he very gently grabs at the back of your neck and guides you in your room. pressing a single kiss to the crown of your head he bends you over the bed. smothering you he shoves your head further into the comforter. you don't fight until you feel a sharp sting. gasping, you attempt to remove yourself from his grip. another sharp sting and your voice is muffled. letting go of your neck you spring up and rub at your butt. frowning up at him you start to speak. he places two fingers in your mouth and you gag at the sudden intrusion. keeping your head in place with fingers gripping your chin he continues teasing you. pressing down on the back of your tongue he watches as tears prick the corners of your eyes. the gag that follows is brazzy and he coos at you. pulling his fingers out of your mouth a thin line of spit connects them to your bottom lip.

“Get on the bed for me. Ah, not like that. You know better.”

stripping for him you make a show of it. the hope that it will help lessen your punishment dies out halfway through the striptease. crawling into the bed he coaxes you on your back. one large hand splays itself across your thigh as he holds your leg open.

“Hold the other one. More.”

when you’re sure you can't feel any more embarrassed he brings his free hand down.

“Dae-ho!”

he shushes you and does it again. it’s not as painful as you thought it would be. a third slap and you actually start to feel it. you clit throbs every time his hand connects with your pussy. whining out you slap a hand over your mouth. he raises his hand again and again and again. you lost count somewhere when the pain morphed into pleasure. your eye starts witching and you don’t know how much more you can take. oh. holy fuck. he plunges two fingers into you and massages that gummy spot right inside of you. biting down on your cheek, you taste blood. ripping the feeling from you he goes back to slapping long fingers against your clit. you feel so empty and your pussy clenches around air. he smiles down at you so sweetly as he rubs soft circles against your clit. breathing heavily, your noises are muffled behind flesh. he spends a few minutes rewarding you, your pussy warm under his touch. slapping his hand down he listens as his fingers connect with your spread hole. your soaking pussy glistens as he smears your slick. the sob that rips its way out of your throat is violent. a gasp, sob and choke all in one with a nice gag to go along with it. he looks down at you and raises an eyebrow.

“Doing okay, rabbit?”

you furrow your eyebrows in silent protest. it would take a lot more than that to- huh. he leans down and takes one sensitive nipple in his mouth. arching your back he continues slapping your pussy until those harsh sobs start to take over again. he listens intently as you sob below his touch. your attitude drains out of you. your tears stream down to tickle your ears. panting your eyes unfocus and lazily blink. he switches nipples and your hips buck into the next slap. jesus christ. you were quickly becoming overstimulated. every feeling was too much and it rips a hole in your chest that was temporarily filled by the next slap.

“Come on beautiful, use your words.”

“I’m sorry. Dae-ho. I am. I promise. Please. Please.”

he sighs and kisses your temple. a particularly harsh slap has you crying out.

“Thank you. I love you. I’m sorry.”

his eyes brighten as he listens to your apology. he leisurely pushes three fingers into you. the moment his fingers are notched deep in you he speeds up. the few thrusts it does take you to cum are fast and rough. fingers massage that spot right inside you every time his fingers reach their hilt. when you do cum you’re shaking. covering your face, you smear snot and drool across your cheeks. you gush around his fingers and your essence pools in his palm.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you. So so much. Thank you, I love you.”

he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. reaching down you focus on his hand undoing his belt.

“Go ahead and relax.”

you shift and spread yourself open for him. your dripping hole is on full display making his cock jump in his briefs. climbing onto the bed he knocks the tip of his cock against your puffy clit. turning your head you gasp and shakily exhale as you attempt to relax. your hazy mind starts to form a thought but it immediately slips away as he slides his cock into your feverish pussy.

junho doesn't go out of his way to take his frustration out on you. he just knows how eager you are to help him. your soft expressions and gentle smiles always make it difficult for him to get upset with you. so when something pushes him over the edge and your wonder amazing boyfriend-pleaser self is sitting curled up on the couch you bet your ass he’s dragging you onto your knees. he loves watching as your expression changes from anger at losing your phone, to confusion as he lifts you to your feet, to understanding as he pushes you down. he loves how devoted you are, taking the initiative and undoing his belt for him. your way of seeing how rough he’ll be. oh how well you knew him because not even three seconds after you’ve touched his belt is he growing and shoving his pants down for you. you start to relax, your mouth starts to passively make saliva as your thighs squish together. he absolutely adores the way your eyes crinkle as he slaps his cock against your cheek.

“Open up for me, angel. A little wider. Just like that, good job.”

he slides the tip of his cock in your mouth and you whine at not being able to tease him a little.

“Don't worry. I’ll still get off in your mouth. How’s that sound, huh? Good? Damn, I always forget how tight your throat is like this.”

he bottoms out without giving you much time to prepare and the stretch is uncomfortable. you close your nails into your palms and try your hardest to relax your throat. breathing is impossible and so you're stuck crying as your body struggles. salt burns your waterline and you rock back in protest. he cups your head in his hands, hair puffing around his fingers. curling your toes, you whine and gag softly around his shaft. he keeps his thrusts shallow and any air that you can gather is filled with him. blinking up at him, your cheeks puff out. he bends over slightly and fucks your throat, his pelvis squishing your nose with every deep thrust. your gags are frequent and they vibrate against his cock. he lets up after a few minutes and goes back to slow thrusts. you can feel your nose start running with as much frequency as your eyes when he starts fucking your throat again. the intermission between slow, gentle thrusts and deep, rough thrusts becomes shorter and shorter until he doesn't let up. his cock is so far down your throat you can’t even swallow without him showing. rocking your hips against the air you close your eyes and relax into his thrusts.

“You feel perfect, angel. So tight. You want me to cum in you?”

you squeeze at his thigh and hum as best as you can. he nods and with blurry vision you take in his disheveled look. whisps of hair sticking to his slick forehead, deep eyes squeezed shut, and a beautiful shade of red covering his neck. closing your eyes again, you sniffle and gag. the feeling of your throat constricting pushes him over the edge and he cums down your throat. letting go of your head he finishes on your face and hair as you gag and cough up cum. he stands above you breathing heavily. his eyes closed and his hand finishing himself off with abandon. when he finally comes back to it your coughs have downgraded to raspy breathing. mumbling he goes about the house half naked and collects a few things. coming back he hands you a cup full of water and an empty mug. taking the glass you chug the water until it’s empty. he busies himself by wiping down your hair and face with a damp towel. he finishes with a deep kiss and you have to cut it short as you're still out of breath.

[pupyuj]

→ “dreamlike.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.

— with your forbidden thoughts and feelings plaguing your head, you failed to do the deed with your crush on a date. and so your stepsister gives you a taste of what you've been craving...

word count: 14.6k.

dynamic: dom!stepsister!jang wonyoung x sub!inexperienced!reader.

content warnings: stepcest, masturbation, mirror sex, unnie kink, praise kink, fingering, edging, voyeurism, exhibitionism (mildly).

requested? : yes!

‼️: this fic features ryujin of itzy as the reader's (second?) love interest!

a/n: i am so glad to tick this off my req checklist omg 😭😭😭 apologies to the anon who requested this months ago, this is for you! from pupyuj many months later 😭💔 i really didn't think i would write over 10k words since i predicted that i would only be writing 7k but i present you guys this big ass meal, i guess... 😭 sorry in advance for this long read but I REALLY HOPE THIS WAS AT LEAST FUN TO READ FOR YA'LL! expect the other requests to come soon 👀

for as long as you’ve known your step sister, which would be two years now, all she has done for you are good things. she helps you around the house, was quick to befriend you and get you comfortable around her father (your stepdad) and herself, made the effort to get along with your mother, and has treated you like family way more than some other immediate blood relatives of yours did. there was no doubt that you couldn’t ask for a better older sister than jang wonyoung, and she continues to prove that the more she hangs out with you!

wonyoung has done a lot of favors for you—some you didn’t even ask for. she didn’t have to make so much time in her schedule just to show you around the city after you and your mother officially moved in with her and her father, but she did. she didn’t have to become your personal campus tour guide when you enrolled at your new college (that she also attended), but she did. she didn’t have to throw a surprise birthday party for you in your first year of being sisters, but she did! you like to tell wonyoung that you would love to give back to everything she has done for you, but she always told you that it wasn’t necessary because she was just fulfilling her role as your older sister.

and today, you just so happen to need her god-given older sister wisdom and guidance… for a cute date! as soon as your crush turned a corner after you’ve agreed to have her take you out on a date in the coming weekend, you immediately turned around and pulled out your phone, texting your reliable older sister.

sliding your phone inside one of your pockets, you started leaving the building with a skip in your step. the hallways were silent with only muffled chatter and the thought of shin ryujin accompanying you on your way out. you blushed as you remembered her vibrant smile when you said ‘yes’ to her date proposal—it looked like she had been nervous before she asked you and was very relieved that you didn’t turn her down. but in what world would you have rejected her, anyway? she was your dream girl! and ever since your first date together, which was only three weeks ago, you have been wanting to see her again.

the two of you have only been texting and chatting in the halls regularly but being in different programs made it hard for either of you to make time. not to mention the nerves! you had no idea if ryujin wanted to go on a date with you again even when you knew full well that she enjoyed her last one with you. it was wonyoung who cleared you of your doubts and worries, told you that if ryujin wasn’t stupid she would absolutely want to be with you, and she was even the one who gave you good advice on how to initiate something she calls ‘the first-date skinship’! it was only wonyoung’s natural big-sister-instinct to want to help you with your second date, and you really couldn’t have asked for a better guide!

arriving at the parking lot, you spotted wonyoung in the sea of cars, leaning on her own sleek, cherry red chevy as she reapplied some gloss on her plump lips. you noticed that she was strangely glammed up on a tuesday where you knew her classes were fairly boring and totally not worth all the effort of looking decent, let alone fabulous. she must have plans—besides taking you out shopping, that is. she spots you once you were halfway across the lot, and her smile lights up the entire area, in your eyes anyway. 

you happily walked faster until you were right in front of her, “hi, unnie!” you greeted with a sweet smile that she returned with a pinch of your cheek.

“hey there, lovergirl. you look so happy! it’s cute,” wonyoung spots how your cheeks flushed. surely enough she now knows about how you kept thinking about ryujin on the walk towards this place, and speaking of the devil, she followed your gaze to the car a few spots away from her own, where ryujin and a few of her best friends were standing and chatting comfortably around in. as if she sensed that someone was staring at her, ryujin turns her head and locks eyes with you. you froze up, both embarrassed and terrified that you were caught practically drooling over your crush by… your crush! it was only when wonyoung subtly nudged you that you managed to give ryujin a shy wave, which the latter returned just as shyly and got teased by her friends for it. “oh wow, you two are so into each other.” wonyoung laughed as you turned away from ryujin with burning hot cheeks.

“i’m happy i trusted you and didn’t let my preconceived notions of her stop you from going on that first date. she seems like a good egg. now, anyway.” wonyoung says as she subtly studies ryujin. a once drop-out, repeater of classes, and a reputation for being the token ‘player’ of her little group… wonyoung had all the right to doubt ryujin when you first told her that you had a crush on her. it didn’t help that ryujin looked the part of a player too! even wonyoung herself thought that little smirk of hers was quite charming, but after hearing all of the things you said about ryujin and how she treated you so kindly… well, wonyoung had to give her a chance!

and clearly, shin ryujin did not disappoint.

“if this second date goes well, i’ll properly introduce you both. if you’d like! it doesn’t look like it but you guys have similar interests and i think you’ll get along well.” you said, immediately getting reminded of how much you talked about your perfect wonyoung-unnie to ryujin on that first date. thinking about it now was embarrassing, but it made your heart skip a beat when you remember how ryujin didn’t seem to mind anything ‘strange’ that you did. she just looked happy to be hanging out with you! oh, you could fall in love, really.

“whoa there, maybe save the introductions when you’ve been dating for at least two months.” wonyoung teased, smiling widely at how you just ducked into the passenger seat to avoid eye contact with her. wonyoung sits herself down in the driver’s seat, more than happy to let you hog the speakers with your music while she checks herself one last time in her mirrors.

“ah, do you have a date, unnie?” you asked, your eyes carefully studying your step sister’s every facial feature. in your eyes, jang wonyoung was the definition of ‘flawless’. perfect face, perfect body, perfect personality, perfect heart, perfect lips… sometimes you envied her, but every time you voiced out some of your insecurities to her, she would tell you to be quiet and that you’re perfect in her eyes. you appreciated her greatly because of that and she has increased your confidence in every aspect of yourself! add ‘perfect older sister’ in that list.

“oh, god no,” wonyoung says as she slowly pulls out of her spot. she waves at a couple students that were walking by, and you even spot some who waved at you as well. you returned their greetings with a sweet smile before wonyoung completely drove away from the parking lot, but she of course gave you some sweet seconds to wave at ryujin again before speeding off laughing. “why? did you think i would take you shopping not looking decent?” she asked.

“if your ‘decent’ looks like a pageant entry, then i’m afraid to find out what mine is.” you grumbled. it was almost an unhealthy habit of yours to nitpick your appearance, but wonyoung was quick to make all of that go away.

“yours is winning the pageant in question, of course.” wonyoung said. her words laced with nothing but sincerity, it made you smile.

“i appreciate the lie, unnie.” you replied, laughing.

wonyoung whines, “i don’t lie, (y/n)-ah. you know this!”

the ride to the nearest outlet mall was filled with casual chatter and laughs. you tried to convince wonyoung to go to a less… well, expensive mall but she insisted that it was the perfect time to spend her allowance! and then you begged her not to spend her money on you, and she blissfully ignored you. ever the doting one she is. the entire time you sat on that passenger seat, you were fixing your makeup using the little mirror in the visor, grumbling when you noticed how ‘off’ you looked with how your makeup had worn off throughout the day. and so you get to ‘fixing’ your appearance, but not before noticing that wonyoung’s eyes kept drifting from the road to you.

“what, unnie?”

you hear wonyoung hum, “nothing. you know you don’t need too much of that, right…? you’re so pretty.”

“i’m not about to go into a mall for rich kids with my gorgeous older sister looking like i just woke up from hibernation.” you joked, giggling when wonyoung scoffs and shakes her head.

“trust me. you’re more beautiful than you think.” wonyoung pinches your cheek and before you could deny or say anything back, she speeds off into the highway, giving you no choice but to sit back and relax. you already knew that wonyoung was going to be the one to dress you up for the entirety of this little outing so you didn’t waste your brainpower trying to think of any outfits to put together. instead, you opted to stare at the clouds with ryujin in your head, accompanied by a lovesick smile on your face which was made worse because of the romantic songs playing through the speakers.

once you arrived at the outlet mall, wonyoung wasted no time and took you by the hand before tugging you towards clothing stores that had prices worth more than you think they deserve for being merely… well, clothing.

“u-unnie, this is way too expensive for a skirt! please, i do not need this!” you said after nearly fainting looking at the price tag of a cute, frilly black skirt that wonyoung picked out for you.

“i told you already: don’t worry about it. and less talking, more looking!” wonyoung puts the skirt in a bag, moving on to a rack of some if the prettiest blouses you have ever seen. from the colors to the material—it was all very rich, and you haven’t even included the prices there!

“so! what kind of outfit would you like to wear for this date? preppy? cutesy? maybe even sexy?” wonyoung teased with a smirk. you blushed madly at the suggestion, looking away to hide your cheeks as well as your burning ears. “aww, baby, you think about ryujin in that way? how adorable!” wonyoung laughs.

“have you seen her in the engineering building? she’s so attractive when she’s all serious and focused…” you said with a dreamy sigh. you developed the peculiar habit of taking a long stroll around the campus whenever you had spare time and you just so happened to always walk by ryujin’s classroom on your routes. once in a while you’d see her—nose glued to her notebook or listening to the lecture with great focus… and it really was sexy of her! and now here’s a fun fact: the two of you actually met on one of your first walks around the campus, where you got lost in the engineering building and ryujin had been conveniently running late to class.

you asked her for directions but she insisted that she escort you back to your own lecture hall, and the rest, as they say, is history! every time you think about it, butterflies invade your stomach and turn you into a blushing mess.

“come on, try some of these on.” wonyoung leads you to a lavish (and huge) dressing room that looks like a monster made of pink goo puked all over it. nevertheless, wonyoung takes a seat in one of the puffy, pretty ridiculously pink armchairs and nods at the privacy screen, expecting you to put on a whole fashion show for her. you felt intimidated by wonyoung, but not the kind where you would tuck your tail in between your legs and hide like you usually did with other people that mildly scared you. this kind of intimidation just made you want to impress her—make her proud, almost.

and what would you be if you were not a people-pleaser?!

so you hid behind the privacy screen and stared at the four pretty outfits that wonyoung had arranged for you; they were all pastel-colored outfits. you didn’t have a problem, of course, but you did wonder if you could ever pull it off as flawlessly as wonyoung did. on your last date with ryujin, you wore a sundress embroidered with flowers, petals, and leaves along with a cute hat, one of wonyoung’s expensive purses, and bejeweled mary janes—the outfit made ryujin unable to make eye contact with you for ten minutes until she finally got the courage to tell you how pretty you looked. adorable, but what if she doesn’t think the same on this second date?

shaking your head, you decided to trust your sister.

the mini fashion show was enlightening! seeing wonyoung’s face light up with amusement and joy every time you walked out of the privacy screen with a shy look on your face made you a bit less embarrassed of yourself. wonyoung would sometimes ask you to do a little twirl for her and would giggle sweetly at you when you do what she says even though your face was beet red. regardless of how you felt bashful about being your older step sister’s living doll, you enjoyed everything. you ended up picking an outfit that you really liked too!

“there are ways we can make this look a hundred times better!” wonyoung says, approaching you with a smile on her face. she gets real close to you, making you freeze on your spot and stare at her right in the eyes like a deer caught in headlights. her perfume was so sweet, voice so smooth as if it was made of silk, lips so full, plump, and pink that it was alluring. your breath catches in your throat when wonyoung lifts her hands slightly, undoing the ribbon of your blouse and then tying it back again—prettier this time. you couldn’t help your wandering eyes; you stared at her lips for too long! you hoped to the gods above that she didn’t notice.

(she did.)

“i’ll teach you how to tie your ribbon all cute when it’s date day. oh, and also raise this up a bit,” wonyoung lowers her hand, tucking both her thumbs underneath the waistband of your skirt and pulling your skirt up a bit. you don’t know what kind of sound nearly left your mouth when her cold fingers touched your warm skin but you were so fucking glad that it never came out. “for easier access.” wonyoung whispers with a suggestive wink.

you blushed wildly, “oh, unnie! ryujin’s the sweetest gentlewoman, please don’t put that in my head.” you promptly moved away from wonyoung, opting to stand in front of the full body mirror instead to observe your appearance. with a little bit of light makeup and some accessories, you’d look really cute. you were glad wonyoung was here to offer her expertise, or else you would’ve been panicking trying to find a decent outfit the night before the big day. both you and wonyoung ogle over your adorable outfit before you go back to wearing your regular clothes, realizing that you might like shopping and scourging for outfits more than you thought.

at the cash register, you still insisted on at least paying for half of the payments required for the outfit but wonyoung refused again. “keep this up and i’m going to have to lock your cards myself just to make it stick to you that i want to pay for everything.” wonyoung then pinches your nose and happily slips the receipt into the paper bag before gingerly walking out of the store with you following close behind. at least she allowed you to carry the bag, but that was only because she wanted to loop her arm around yours and tug you everywhere.

for the rest of your time at that outlet mall, you spent most of it window shopping and trying to stop wonyoung from buying you pricey things that you did not ask for. you managed to prevent her from getting you a shiny watch, some sleek heels, and fancy pieces of clothing that were too rich for your little closet, but you couldn’t say no to her when she brought up the wonderful idea of getting matching bracelets. wonyoung’s joy was contagious; it made you so happy to see her smile when you allowed her to put the bracelet on you. it was just another great day of hanging out with her, but the fun didn’t stop there!

“so, tonight! you, me, in my room, a pint of ice cream, iconic romcoms, and planning out your second date. sound good?” wonyoung asks once she had her car parked on the driveway. you nodded eagerly, taking a bite out of the donut in your hand before tidying yourself up. wonyoung wipes a filling off the top of your lips and licks it off her thumb, chuckling lightly at your bewildered expression before exiting her car. you blinked, and asked yourself just why did you think it was so… ‘hot’ of her to do that? shaking your head, you followed after your step sister, closing the car door gently and jogging up to the front porch of the jang family mansion.

the mansion was as posh and lavish as one would expect from the jangs; from the fine pieces of paintings, sculptures, and figures scattered all over the house to the intricately-detailed wallpapers and the expensive furniture. it was way too big for one family of four, three dramatic cats, and two live-in housekeepers but it was home.

“hi, unnies!” wonyoung excitedly greets the chipper housekeepers, giving them hugs and kisses. you stood idly behind them all, waiting as wonyoung chatted with them. “mmh… that smells really good. but why are you guys cooking a bit early tonight?” wonyoung asked.

“ah, sir jang or madam (l/n) hasn’t mentioned it yet?” the older one of the housekeepers, sunhee, said. you and wonyoung exchanged a quick look with each other, making you grab your phone just to take a quick peek to confirm that no, neither your stepfather or mother have texted you about any interesting event that’s supposed to occur tonight. “both of them are inviting some friends of theirs over for dinner. and they’re expecting you young’uns to join them!”

your smile drops slightly. not because you didn’t want to join the big dinner but because your little plan with wonyoung might have to be canceled depending on how long the dinner would be. seeing this, the younger housekeeper, norae, was quick to try and lift your spirits back up. “i’m sure it’s not anything too serious! nothing to be concerned about.” she smiles kindly at you and relief was evident in her face when you smile back, warm from the reassurance. afterwards, sunhee decided to go back to the kitchen but norae insisted on helping you and wonyoung with your bags.

“one day i’m going drag you and sunhee-unnie along to my bi-weekly shopping sprees. it’ll be so fun.” wonyoung tells norae as the three of you struggled climbing the staircases with shopping bags in your hands. while the two older girls get lost in their conversation, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket and your heart jumps at the thought of it being ryujin. she did tell you that she would tell you more about the date she has planned so you wouldn’t be too nervous about it. how considerate of her! you paused on top of the staircases to look at your phone, and you were correct!”

“come on, lover girl, don’t fall off the stairs,” wonyoung teased, her head peeking out from the corner of the hallway. “sorry, unnie. she has another hot date this weekend so she’s a bit… distracted.” wonyoung winks at the young housekeeper before laughing at how you blushed at her statement. shoving your phone in your pocket, you grabbed your bags and made a beeline towards your room, ignoring wonyoung’s giggles and norae’s calls for details. you thanked norae for her help with your bags before bidding your older sister a short goodbye—you had a ‘formal’ dinner to get ready for! and you wanted to see if you can glam yourself up without wonyoung’s help this time.

however, instead of going straight into the showers like you intended to, you decided to crash right onto your bed! ryujin didn’t seem to be camping in your messages anymore, possibly occupied with something. a shame since you wanted to chat with her just to know more about her so you wouldn’t be a total bore to talk to on your second date with her. beyond the cool girl persona, there was a not-so-hidden softness in ryujin that she doesn’t really allow just anyone to see and maybe it was her infatuation with you, but you were one of those people that she let see her adorable side.

for example! once in a while you would find three daisies taped to your locker with a small sticky note that had only a cute heart and ‘ryu’ signed at the bottom of the paper. on one of those days where ryujin pulled that stunt, wonyoung had been with you and you got such a big teasing from her that you had to pretend that the cute gesture didn’t affect you as much. every time ryujin gave you daisies you always made sure to take them home and appreciate them a little more before their time was up, and because of ryujin, you found yourself liking the flower so much that even your phone case was designed with daisies.

you hadn’t been able to get the look of awe in ryujin’s face when she noticed your new and shiny daisy phone case one day and you swore that when her face lit up with a bright smile, you had fallen in love.

you turned to your side and started scrolling through ryujin’s instagram page. you’ve probably seen every post at this point but you would never get tired of seeing her face… plus her pictures were pretty cool, okay?! you wondered who took them—maybe chaeryeong? you always knew they were pretty close, almost like sisters. as you scrolled through your crush’s feed, it started to get… warm. shin ryujin was simply too handsome for her own good; who could blame you for staring obsessively at a certain pic that you liked for so long that you didn't even notice your own hand slipping underneath the waistband of your pants and feeling your own clothed core?

rubbing the fabric of your underwear against your clit, you whimpered and pressed your face against your pillows as a means to suppress your noises. it would be a nightmare if anybody in the house hears you. they may not tease you as it would be embarrassing for everybody, but just the thought of the kind housekeepers and your very own step sister hearing you like this… well, it makes you want to pack your bags and move out. and so you bit the pillowcase and sighed blissfully at the pleasure, sliding your fingers past your underwear and squirming at the contact made with your bare clit. you were doing well for a while with only soft whimpers, heavy breathing, and sharp intakes of breath leaving your mouth, although every time you pressed on your clit too hard a slightly louder whine would slip out and you would have to bite harder.

you started to think about the possibility of your second date ending a bit… differently compared to your first one. what if instead of a sweet kiss on the cheek after ryujin drops you off to the gates of the mansion, you’d be underneath her? a helpless, moaning mess on her bed as she feasts herself on your cunt with her adorable eyes latched onto yours and calling you all the names you like and singing your praises? the thought makes a shiver run down your spine, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body even though you were doing the bare minimum at the moment.

you blame wonyoung for all of this. it was all innocent until she brought up the idea of you potentially dressing sexy for ryujin on your date. now fucking with her was all you can think about. feeling her skin against yours, her hands on you, her lips kissing you until every inch of your skin was covered with her marks, and to feel her own core in your hand…

“mmhn… god, wonyoung-unnie…”

your eyes snap open and all of your movements halted.

wonyoung? your step sister that was right across the door of your own room?

oh, god. you feel sick.

out of all the days you had to acknowledge these forbidden and super fucking weird underlying attraction you had for wonyoung, it had to be today—days away from your dream date with your crush. you can’t even defend yourself by saying that ‘nobody can blame you for being attracted to an admittedly attractive woman’ when the woman in question is your family! you felt disgusted with yourself, and the desire to catapult yourself out of your window only becomes stronger when you imagined wonyoung’s disappointed face in your head. she was scolding you… and it turned you on to an immense degree.

fuckfuckfuck, no!! bad (y/n)!!

immediately, you cleaned up your hand and did everything in your power to forget about what just happened. absolutely no one can know that you had pictured yourself getting intimate with wonyoung and that you moaned her name out loud while you were touching yourself! 

after choosing a decent outfit for the dinner, you headed straight into the bathroom to have a nice, long shower that you hoped would wash away all the thoughts you had in your head about ryujin, the date, and most importantly, wonyoung.

you don’t know why it was so hard for you to make your way down the stairs after you have been called to do so by your mother… until you were met with your step sister’s back at the bottom of the stairs. wonyoung had been waiting for you, refusing to enter the dining area without you (since she knew that if she leaves you to yourself, you would walk into the area with cold hands and shaking legs. and she knew you wouldn’t let yourself live that down). thankfully, as mentioned before, her back was turned to you so she wasn’t aware of your presence yet. and then you found yourself torn in between two paths: act like you didn’t ‘accidentally’ masturbate to the thought of her and that your life is merry and happy, or completely avoid interacting with her throughout the night.

the second option was a death trap, of course. knowing wonyoung, she wouldn’t let up until you spat out what was bothering you. especially if it involved herself. so you crossed that out immediately and found yourself in great peril. unfortunately, you didn’t have the luxury to practice your fake smiles and faux enthusiasm as wonyoung took a glance behind herself and finally saw you, flashing you a radiant smile before beckoning you over.

when you reach the last step, wonyoung loops her arm around yours and pulls you close, “what took you so long? and why do you look so scared?” she asked, chuckling at your peculiar state.

it totally wasn’t because of the alluring perfume that she was wearing and how her glossy, red lips were so inviting.

“unnie, you know i-i’m not good with people… especially mom and mr. jang’s friends. they always have such high expectations…” you muttered, opting to look at the lively dining area just to avoid wonyoung’s stare.

“expectations that you don’t have any problem meeting already because you’re amazing. stop downplaying yourself, (y/n)-ah. i’m gonna get really angry.” wonyoung pinched your cheek and laughed at how you scrunched up your face in pain. unexpectedly, wonyoung dives right in and gives you a kiss on the cheek that she pinched, making you stiffen on the spot.

“oh, crap,” wonyoung notices that she left a barely faint kiss mark on your cheek. “free blush for you, i guess?” wonyoung says as she wipes away the lipstick gently. you were hoping that she would just ignore how you have completely gone non-verbal because of her actions. and god forbid, she notices how you’ve clenched your thighs together in an attempt to stop that feeling in your core from getting stronger. this was so, so wrong.

“come on, now. it’s only mr. and mrs. naoi with mrs. ahn and mrs. kim—we’ve met them before and we’re schoolmates with their kids, remember?” wonyoung starts tugging you towards the dining table where your mother and stepfather as well as their friends have already settled down while norae and sunhee present the food they have cooked at the table. you hear the adults laughing about mr. ahn and mr. kim’s absence before their conversation was cut short due to your and wonyoung’s appearance. you felt small under the gazes of the accomplished people in the room, with your mother being one of them no less, until you feel wonyoung’s hand touch the back of your waist for support.

“good evening.” the two of you said at the same time, greeting the other adults with a sweet smile before giving your parents hugs and kisses on the cheeks. you were sitting in between your mother and wonyoung, facing the gentleness and warmth of mrs. kim who sat across from you. with a few more greetings exchanged and a brief ‘thank you’ to the housekeepers, the dinner officially started.

it turns out that you didn’t have much to worry about. it was mostly the parents that talked about their businesses and some anecdotes that happened in their respective workplaces, sometimes they asked about wonyoung’s studies, about your studies, and your love lives. both you and wonyoung denied being in a relationship even though you knew how glaringly obvious it was that you had been thinking about a certain engineering student. both your stepfather and mother exchanged a knowing glance upon seeing your red ears—you had told them about ryujin just a few days before you went on that first date with her, and from the looks of it, they seemed fine with you seeing people and going on dates.

it was mostly wonyoung that they all talked to, being the older between you two and they knew her better than they did you. it was fascinating to watch how wonyoung seemed to fit right in; she spoke with so much confidence that it intimidated you. at least you got to hear about her mysterious biological older sister. the one you haven’t exactly met yet if you don’t count seeing her in pictures and having to briefly wave at her through wonyoung’s phone screen when they had been video calling one time. you were more than content to just sit there and eat your food along with occasionally acknowledging and chatting a little bit when you were being talked to. even that proved to be a challenge.

especially when wonyoung’s piercing gaze made your hair stand on end, but you can’t think about that for too long or else you’ll malfunction where you sat.

when the dinner finished and your mother and stepfather have gone outside to send their friends home, you and wonyoung decided to help the housekeepers collect the dishes. you both insisted that you helped them wash it and clean up the entire dining area in general but they refused, saying that it’s already pretty late in the evening and that the two of you should just head to bed. you wanted to persist, but wonyoung takes a hold of your arm and starts tugging you towards the staircases. god, after you did what you did earlier, you really thought that you shouldn’t be alone with her at all. who knows what you might say? what you might do?

the two of you climbed up the staircases in silence. every step weighed heavily in your heart, and seeing the wide smile on wonyoung’s face, thinking that she was going to have another fun night hanging out with her only younger sister, broke you even more. you just had to utter her name that time, didn’t you?

it wasn’t until you had stopped in front of wonyoung’s bedroom door that you finally decided to speak. “u-um, unnie… shopping kind of wore me out earlier so i think i’m going to have to skip movie night,” you said these words while looking elsewhere, not having it in yourself to try to look at wonyoung in the eyes and lie to her face. “i’m sorry. i know you were looking forward to it.”

wonyoung wasn’t stupid. you knew that she knew something was truly wrong and that you weren’t planning on telling her about it anytime soon, but of course, it would be quite intrusive of her to push you into telling her everything, so she doesn’t question you. wonyoung merely caresses your hair and pats your back softly, “it’s okay, (y/n)-ah. we can do it some other time.” she said. you didn’t like how sure she sounded, because you knew that if wonyoung were to ask to have some time alone with you in the foreseeable future, you would have to decline.

when you parted ways with her and she finally disappeared behind her door, you stared at your own for a quick minute, immediately regretting your decisions but finding it useless to take it all back. what were you going to do? tell wonyoung that you were only momentarily freaked out because you touched yourself to the thought of her? no. it was much, much better to live with the intent to carry that secret to your grave than facing it.

you went to bed with unsettling feelings bubbling from the pit of your stomach that night and unbeknownst to you, your mistake was going to be much, much harder to forget.

it really hurts you to continuously avoid wonyoung for days on end. it was always terrible when it was daytime considering she’s driving you to school everyday. she would put on her music and try to start conversations with you, only for you to abruptly end it with mere hums, nods, and short answers. you couldn’t look at her when you have been struggling to get that pretty face of hers out of your head for days—at night, in your dreams and in the morning, when you make the mistake of spacing out and have the same image of wonyoung seducing you. many times at night, you woke up from a wet dream wherein wonyoung had been going down on you and you found your hand shoved inside your soaked panties. and that night, you let out a scream that alerted your step sister herself.

wonyoung had rushed to knock on your door thinking that you were in danger or something, and you had to try your very hardest to cover up that wet spot on your shorts while you reassured her that you just had a ‘nightmare’. she looked like she wanted to talk to you more, perhaps suggest that you sleep with her so she can spoon you like she had done so a few times before when you actually did have nightmares. but you made sure to talk to her for no more than five minutes before you bid her goodnight again and close the door on her face. that night, you actually sobbed quietly into your pillow. you were so horrible to her for no reason, and you hated yourself for it.

wonyoung had learned how to hide unnecessary emotions from showing up on her face as a means to avoid being too much of an open book to strangers, but you have learned to catch every little thing wonyoung does so it was easy for you to see through that veil of hers. this time around, however, it was a curse. every time you came up with some excuse to do things alone, you would see a flash of hurt in wonyoung’s eyes before she covered it up behind an understanding smile. she had gotten used to your rejection to the point that sometimes she doesn’t even bother to ask you to hang out anymore, and this morning she barely acknowledged you.

when you made your way towards your room to get yourself washed up, wonyoung had just come out of her own room clad in her running gear. you hated how attractive she looked wearing it all, but what you hated more was how wonyoung completely walked past you without a word, a smile, or even a glance… and yet she was wearing her pair of your matching bracelets. a familiar lump was stuck in your throat for a few minutes while you paced around your room trying to calm yourself, but you were able to get it together when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. ryujin had texted you, reminding you that she will pick you up from the mansion and so you shouldn’t bother taking a cab to your meeting place.

yes, it was the day and yet ryujin was somehow the last thing on your mind.

with a deep exhale, you decided that you were going to enjoy this day to the fullest and think about what to do with the mess you’ve created later. there has been a cloud stuck to your head for days now, and while that was mostly your fault, you still deserved a good day filled with butterflies in your stomach and cupid arrows shooting through your heart. with that in mind, you took the first relaxing shower you’ve had after days of being dramatic and moping while water rained down on your sad face. the date was hours away, so you had time to have fun playing dress up in your room. (although there weren't a lot of outfits to choose from thanks to your amateur sense of fashion.)

perhaps you had a bit too much fun ogling over your jewelry since you now only had an exact hour to get yourself dolled up before your princess charming pulls up at the gates. getting dressed up and prepared for the date was disheartening because you knew wonyoung would’ve loved to help you like she had done before, and judging by the fact that she hasn’t returned from her run yet, she was most likely avoiding seeing you leave without her sending you off personally. while this realization might have haunted you to the point that your heart feels hollow as a wave of regret washes over you, you simply had no time to dwell on it even further.

like you decided earlier: date first, problems later. especially when the date in question was apparently waiting at the gates for five minutes while you were busy picking out earrings that complement your outfit. you grabbed your purse and headed out of your bedroom with your heart racing from excitement. norae was sweeping the hallways in the upstairs area and she gave you two thumb-ups while you waved goodbye at her—you made sure to tell her all about it when you finally had time. your mother and stepfather were out on a quick grocery run with sunhee so they were nowhere to be found, which was a win to you because you knew that all three of them would just tease the hell out of you if they saw how giddy you looked.

but then, as you approached the front door, you saw wonyoung taking her shoes off and putting them aside. you watched intently as she took her thin jacket off and revealed her sports bra, which turned out to be the only thing she was wearing underneath. fuck, really? now?! shaking your head, you headed for the door with your head down.

“have fun, (y/n)-ah.”

well, you didn’t expect that.

you stopped in your tracks, turning your head to look your sister in the eye for the first time in a long while. wonyoung didn’t avoid you this time, even going as far as giving you a soft smile. you couldn’t stop yourself—you hugged wonyoung tightly, not even caring that she was a bit damp from sweat. feeling her wrap her long arms around your waist and pull you close was the fullest your heart has been these past few days and when you leaned back to stare at her adoring face, you don’t hide how you were staring at her lips. always so appealing, tempting you to do something so unimaginable. and it seems like wonyoung had the same idea, tightening her hold around your waist with one of her hands resting far down your lower back. it even looks like she already had her head tilted, nervous eyes flickering back and forth between your lips and your gaze.

no. not now. much to wonyoung’s (and your own) dismay, you pulled away from her embrace. “i’ll see you later, unnie. i promise.” you said before swiftly opening the front door and leaving. wonyoung’s scent lingers before it is completely washed away by the smell of nature, reminding you that you had a cute date to worry about for now.

ryujin waits outside of her gray top-down car, holding a singular red rose in her hand while she paced back and forth nervously. smiling, you opened up the gates while she was busy mumbling some kind of mantra to herself, greatly startling her. normally, ryujin would be embarrassed but you laughed so cutely that she had to suck it up, opting to laugh herself before regaining composure. she looked handsome with her loose and silky dark blue button-up shirt while a pair of chic sunglasses pushed the front of her hair back—the look made your heart skip a beat.

“you look beautiful, (y/n),” ryujin extends her arm and hands you the rose which you gratefully accept with a shy smile. she then opens the door of the passenger seat, urging you to take a seat. “ready to go?”

you suddenly felt brave. you closed the distance between the two of you and gave her a swift kiss on the cheek, “thank you, ryu.” you said before occupying the passenger seat. you were glad that it took ryujin a minute to settle down behind the wheel because if she had seen how hard you blushed… you wouldn’t have looked as cool as you initially did! ryujin herself was blushing as well, and she couldn’t resist a wide smile from appearing on her pretty face. well, that was definitely worth the risk.

“oh, here,” ryujin grabs a jacket from the backseat and lays it over your lap. “wouldn’t want you to get cold now.”

from then on, you knew the date was going to be just as fantastic as the last one you had with her. and it really was! your first stop was an italian restaurant that you actually remember vaguely hearing about via overhearing wonyoung talking about wanting to eat there with her friends. you had a lovely time hearing ryujin talk about her studies, her friends, and the little moments in her daily life that she was willing to share, and the way she intently listened to you while you shared your own stories made your heart race. afterwards, ryujin tried to convince you to let her pay for all of the food but after seeing that you refused to back down, she ended up letting you share the bill with her. 

the next stop was a quick-but-heartwarming stroll at a lively and colorful park that had the most beautiful arrangements of plants and flowers as well as gorgeous water fountains. ryujin moved on to talking about some funny encounters at her part-time job—she seemed to love it when you laughed with her and at her stories. it took some time, but ryujin eventually found the courage to hold your hand while you were mesmerized by a particularly ravishing flower bed. the two of you toured the rest of the park hand-in-hand, sharing shy glances for a while until ryujin laughed at the ridiculousness of it all and kept the conversations going. you hadn’t heard about this wonderful park before so naturally you couldn’t wait to tell wonyoung all about it!

and the final stop was a quaint local bakery where you ended up buying two whole boxes of pastries to take home to your family and housekeepers. you and ryujin continued sharing your experiences with the most random things over a cup of coffee, tea, and the most delicious delicacies you’ve had in a long while. ryujin held your hand the entire time and her smile seemed brighter and wider, just like yours was. as you walked out of the bakery and towards the parking lot, the sun was well on its way down the horizon and there was a certain mood in the air… and a spark when you got the courage to look ryujin in the eyes.

there was the anticipation of a kiss… and something more.

then, you ask a question that you never would have thought to come out of your mouth ever, “w-would you… like to come over for a bit?”

ryujin was caught off guard by this and you wondered if those were the right set of words to say to her at the time, but it seems like she was more than eager to take up your offer. although, she does ask you a question with uncertainty and anxiousness, “won’t your family mind? i-i would hate to be a bother…”

but oh, you were chasing after something and you wanted to grab it with your hands firmly. “no, no. they would love to have you over! e-especially wonyoung-unnie!” you insisted. you felt pathetic and desperate trying to convince her like this… but it works. ryujin agrees and the two of you get inside her car for a quite silent and admittedly awkward ride back to the jang mansion. you were expecting the worst of the teasing to come from your doting stepfather and playful mother. norae and sunhee would most likely just laugh in the background and as for wonyoung, she would be smiling triumphantly knowing that she was right all this time!

right about thinking of ryujin touching you, she was!

ryujin parks her car on the spot beside where wonyoung’s car was, making the process excruciatingly slow as she was probably nervous about meeting your family so quickly. you comforted her by taking her hand and gently leading her towards the front doors. you intertwine your fingers, giving her a smile to calm her nerves before pushing the door open. where you would usually find your parents lounging around this time was just an empty big couch. you didn’t hear random laughs and chatter in the kitchen either, which means that wonyoung wasn’t hanging out with the housekeepers to kill time. and the housekeepers themselves were nowhere to be found. 

the mansion was completely empty. ryujin lets out a sigh of relief at the realization that not a single soul was present in the mansion and was a lot more comfortable going forward: making noises of approval and awe at the pieces of art around the house and the interior design as well as nodding as you tell her random facts about the mansion. eventually, the air was dead silent once again when you reached your bedroom. the two of you sit on the edge of your bed, quietly picking at the lint on your clothes and looking everywhere else but at each other.

this was a stupid idea, you thought. she probably didn’t even want to go here… what was i thinking?!

but maybe it wasn’t stupid! because when you find the courage to turn your head to look at ryujin, you find her already staring at you. her face accompanied with the expression of longing that you’ve seen very clearly on your older step sister just this morning before you left the mansion for this date. before you process anything thoroughly, ryujin leans in for a kiss… and so do you.

ryujin’s lips tasted like caramel and caffeine, and with the faint remains of the cinnamon pastry that she snacked on earlier, it all created a distinguished flavor on your tongue that you desired to have more of. so you got brave: softly grabbing a fistful of ryujin’s shirt and pulling her closer to you as you backed up further in your bed until your back was against the headboard. ryujin couldn’t resist her own urges as much as she tried to be a gentlewoman about this whole ordeal. not long after you’ve gotten comfortable, ryujin attacks your neck while pulling on the ribbon on your blouse. her kisses were almost intoxicating, making you release unheard sounds from your mouth that you could tell she greatly enjoyed hearing when you felt her smirk against your skin.

with your blouse now loose and exposing your shoulders as well as a part of your upper chest area, ryujin was now free to mark you however and wherever she desired. whimpers leave your quivering lips as ryujin trailed feather-light kisses down your neck, and a pretty moan follows when she sucks on a certain spot that feels better than the rest. having been distracted by her work on your neck, you don’t notice how she had a gentle grip on your thigh. that was until she slowly slid her hand up, all the way underneath your skirt until she could feel the fabric of your panties on her fingertips.

ryujin tugs on the material at the same time she leaves her first hickey on your neck, and you panic.

you promptly push her back, rendering both of you in temporary shock. you clumsily fixed your blouse, suddenly feeling way too exposed for your own good. a pang of guilt hits you in the chest when ryujin looks at you with widened eyes, “i-i’m sorry, (y/n). did i… was that too fast?” she asked, immediately putting some distance between the two of you just so you don’t feel scared any further.

truthfully, it wasn’t clear to you why exactly you stopped ryujin. but one thing was for sure: it felt… wrong. wrong for her to be the one to touch you. to kiss you. to even… like you. it was almost as if something in your head was telling you that she was the wrong person to pour all of your affection to. it scared you to think about the correct answer too much because you knew damn well what it was deep inside. you see ryujin’s mouth move as she frantically apologized and talked about how she didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable but you don’t hear any of it—you were way too occupied with the thought of your wonyoung-unnie and how she might react to this event, and how you… needed her right now.

“s-s-should i… leave? i’m really sorry if i made the wrong call, i—”

“it’s okay, ryu… i just—i don’t know, i freaked out. i’m sorry.”

ryujin shakes her head profusely, “no, no, please. don’t apologize for anything. i should’ve known not to do that shit. i mean, it’s our second date—god, i’m so sorry.” when she crawled closer, you flinched… but you allowed her to comfort you. not a lot of words were shared between the two of you for a whole hour as you didn’t find it in you to speak to ryujin again after embarrassing her like that. instead, you rested your head on her shoulder and wondered why, just why, out of all the people you wanted to be this close to you, you wanted it to be… wonyoung? from an outsider’s perspective, being temporarily estranged from her for a week straight would be the quickest answer to that question, but you knew it wasn’t the whole truth.

you wanted her. and while the mere idea of feeling so awfully attractive to her disgusted you to your core, you couldn’t stop your heart from trying to take what it desires. but the real question was would you really be willing to commit to such a thing just to see a sign if wonyoung held a similar attraction towards you, or in order to keep a family after enduring so many years of living in a house divided, should you just shove everything under the rug and instead, forever become distant towards wonyoung?

after ryujin quite reluctantly and regrettably left the mansion and you found yourself sitting with your knees touching your chest on the carpeted floors of wonyoung’s bedroom, it doesn’t take a genius to know that you found the answer to your myriad of questions from before. you nervously awaited wonyoung’s arrival; although her car was very much present in the driveway, you figured that she must’ve gone out with her friends or something considering she was nowhere to be found in any corner of the mansion at all. the entire place has been too quiet for your liking and on top of all that, you hated being alone inside such a big space.

before you sunk deeper into your personal pool of negative thoughts, the door slowly creaked open, revealing a casually-clothed wonyoung holding three large shopping bags with her phone against her ear. she doesn’t notice you upon entering, way too engaged in the conversation with whoever was on the other line. you watched as she dropped the shopping bags to the side and throw her purse to the soft bean bag in the corner before she finally took a good look around the room and spotted your pitiful self all balled up on the floor looking like a kicked puppy. wonyoung was only momentarily surprised, sending a confused look your way before briefly saying goodbye to her friend on the phone.

“i’ll call you back later, unnie. my little sister needs me,” wonyoung then ends the call and puts both of her hands on her hips, jokingly glaring at you. “who said you could come in here as much as you please? especially after being so mean to me for the past week.” wonyoung was pouting, but she was quick to drop her act and laugh at herself. as upset as you were about how things went down with ryujin, you found herself giggling along with her. instead of asking you to stand up, wonyoung sits down right beside you.

you could feel her staring at you and deciphering your expression while your eyes were glued to your feet. you figured that she must have questions for you, and you did have things to say to her obviously but you didn’t know where to start at all. do you start with ryujin? do you start with an apology? do you want to completely avoid deep conversations for now and ask where she had gone? you had no idea. luckily enough, you didn’t have to make that decision.

“did something happen with ryujin? you look troubled,” wonyoung said. her kind eyes refuse to leave your face, wondering just what might’ve disturbed you so greatly that you felt the need to run to her about it. she scoots closer to you and the way you tensed up slightly did not at all go unnoticed. wonyoung tilts her head inquisitively, notices the faint hickey that ryujin gave you, and her mood changes. “what did she do?”

you were to go on ryujin’s defense when you noticed the scary tone in her voice. “no, no. it’s nothing like that, unnie. it’s my fault, i…” you sighed deeply, cringing at the exact memory you pushed ryujin away from you. “i messed up and we couldn’t go through with… you know.” god, you sounded like a child and you hated it. it shouldn’t have to be so hard telling someone you trust about how you ended your date horribly.

“with…? oh! you tried to… oh, wow.” wonyoung seemed to be in complete disbelief. she probably thought you were too much of a prude to even try to initiate sex with a girl you had a massive crush on. you groaned and hid your face in your hands as wonyoung processed your words, and it was then you decided that hey, you weren’t completely innocent! hell, you’re not even a virgin, you should start there! but alas, you resorted to burying your face in your hands and groaning.

“i-it’s okay! what exactly happened?” wonyoung puts a hand on your shoulder for consolation.

“we… i took her here because i didn’t want us to separate just yet so we went into my room and… we kissed,” you remember how ryujin’s lips felt against your skin, how they tasted on your tongue but instead of feeling euphoric over it, there was almost a tinge of dismay that you associated with it. “i-it was getting a bit intense so we took it to the bed and… i don’t know. i didn’t… i didn’t like it when she touched me. and it’s not like i was scared of her or anything like that… i just—”

looking at wonyoung, you found yourself at a loss of words. there is no way you can admit everything you have been thinking about to her. despite her suspicious actions and lingering stares towards you, she wasn’t actually going to entertain such a disgusting act, right?

“hey, hey… don’t beat yourself up over it. you were going to take a huge step! it’s normal to chicken out when it comes to things like that. but i didn’t think it would take such a toll on you… come here,” wonyoung wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you close. in her embrace you start to relax a bit, although your heart is hammering against your ribcage and you refuse to hug her back. who knows what you might think of doing and where your hands might end up?! even when wonyoung was too close, you refused to move an inch. even when she rested her face in the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent. “did she try pushing you to do it?” she asked. her breath tickled your neck. it took you everything in your power to not whimper.

“n-no… she backed off. i felt so bad, unnie… she thought it was her fault and she went home guilty because of me.” you said with a quivering voice. you didn’t want to hurt ryujin like this. how could you even face her on campus and tell her that the reason you didn’t let her touch you any further was because the thought of having sex with her made you feel like you were doing something wrong?

“no, no, ryujin is kind. she’ll understand once you give her a proper explanation about it all. you don’t owe her one, of course, but if it’s bothering you this much then maybe it would help,” wonyoung leans her back, brushes your hair back and giggles slightly at how cute you looked pouting. “you’ll be okay, (y/n)-ah. let’s take your mind off of it, alright?” wonyoung kisses your forehead. at this point, you thought you were safe. as wonyoung leaned back on the side of her bed, you rested your head on her chest and allowed her to caress your side all she wanted. you were actually feeling much better about it all too!

and then wonyoung reaches into her skirt pocket and pulls out your pair of the matching bracelets you bought a week ago.

“you dropped this in the hallway when we were taking all of our bags upstairs after we went shopping,” wonyoung smiles fondly at the bracelet before turning her head and looking at you. it was her usual ‘sweetheart smile’ that you’ve come to know and love, but there was something sinister hiding behind her eyes that made you hold your breath for what she might say next. her hand felt cold against your skin—you weren’t even aware that she had slipped it underneath your shirt until now. “i was going to return it to you after i got all my stuff sorted out… but if my ears were working correctly that time… you were a bit busy.”

oh, fuck. she heard that?

as if she can read your mind, wonyoung nods. “mhm. i heard you. loud and clear,” a sadistic look takes over her expression as your blood runs cold. “i was right about you, (y/n)… i knew i wasn’t going crazy with all those hints that you were dropping all this time…” you don’t think wonyoung realizes how terrified you were at this moment. what was she going to say to you next? what was she going to do? and how the fuck were you going to explain everything to her? wonyoung takes your wrist and clasps the bracelet there before taking your chin in her hand and making you look up at her.

god, you must’ve looked pathetic. what with your eyes brimming with tears and the genuine fear they held in them. wonyoung doesn’t seem too bothered by the fact that she caught her younger step sister masturbating to the thought of her yet, judging by how she looks quite flattered instead. something inside you was hoping that she would just let it pass as a little joke and forget about it. as long as you get to hear her tell you that you shouldn’t think about things like that again, then you can move on peacefully and continue to be her lovely little sibling. but that… doesn’t seem likely. not when wonyoung raises your hand to her lips and kisses your knuckles, then kisses your wrist just a few seconds longer before putting your palm against her cheek, smiling at you so sweetly.

“i’m so happy you feel the same way as i do,” wonyoung said. before you could even process what she just said in your head, wonyoung leans closer to you until your faces were merely inches apart. your breath catches on your throat at the lack of distance, making you flinch back a bit. “it’s because of me, right? you couldn’t bring yourself to have sex with ryujin because you wanted me… don’t you, baby?” wonyoung places her hands on either side of you so she would have you trapped. when you don’t answer her quick enough, she tilts her head and gives you a kiss on the cheek… before her lips continue on kissing down your neck.

her kisses were pillow-soft. it was as if no matter how much she wanted you, she was still giving you room to completely push her away and run for your life. and you know what? you probably should. deep in your heart, you wanted to scurry away from her and lock yourself away from the world to completely forget that all of this even happened… but instead, you sat there. so awfully still that even wonyoung got frustrated by your lack of movement but regardless, she kissed you. she stops at the crook of your neck, nestling her face there for a moment. “you’ve always smelled so good…” she whispered.

wonyoung raises her head, finding herself chuckling lightly at how petrified you were. “don’t pretend to be so innocent. if you really gave a shit about all of this—about us being a ‘family’—you wouldn’t have shown your face here in the first place. you want this to happen… isn’t that right?”

you knew she was right. and what’s worse is that she knew she was right. that’s why she didn’t have a problem closing the distance and catching your lips with hers. if you weren’t going to answer her questions, then she might as well make you use your mouth for something else! you feel wonyoung smile into the kiss when you start returning it. it makes you sick how good this all made you feel… but you quickly forget about all of that once wonyoung slips her tongue inside your mouth, eager to explore every crevice like she has wished to do for a while now.

wonyoung places a hand on your thigh, and every ounce of hesitation you had evaporates into nothing as you cup her cheeks with both hands, kissing her back. wonyoung moans and your heart skips a beat, even more so when she pulls you closer towards her until her back meets the side of her bed again. and once you were straddling her, wonyoung immediately pulled your shirt off. she even stops the kiss just to lean back and rake her eyes all over your body. you don’t feel intimidated under her stare anymore—all of those feelings of insecurity and self-consciousness have dissipated into nothing as soon as she kissed you. now you only wanted her… and luckily enough, wonyoung was planning on giving you just that and more.

“i thought about fucking you in that changing room, you know,” you feel one of wonyoung’s hands glide across your back slowly, only stopping to unclasp your bra and throw it away to the side. her cold hands grasp your tits, squeezing softly and pressing her thumbs down your erect nipples. you bite back a whimper. “i was so close… do you know how hard i fought against myself knowing you were naked and the only thing stopping me was that damn privacy screen? i think we’re both lucky that i had some sense of decency and didn’t fuck you in a public space.” unconsciously, you rock your hips back and forth on her thigh, seeking for any sort of friction to ease the aching in your core.

wonyoung grins, “so eager… think you can be good for me and be patient, hon?” she asked. you wanted to say fuck no. you needed release and you needed it now but you knew wonyoung would probably fuck you better if you followed her every word.

so you nodded, “y-yes… i can do that, unnie.”

to get you riled up a bit more, wonyoung leaves a trail of hungry, open-mouthed kisses down your neck and across your collarbone until she wraps her warm mouth around your nipple. she hums approvingly of your whimpers which soon turn into blissful moans when she starts using her tongue, flicking and rolling your hardened bud in her mouth. wonyoung slots a knee in between your legs, squeezing your ass as you pressed down and start humping her thigh with the kind of desperation one would only see in a pathetic virgin eager to get bred. wonyoung sneaks her hand inside your shorts which you don’t feel until she presses a finger against your clit. with the added stimulation, it was hard to keep your voice low.

you had no idea who was home at this point in time. what if norae and sunhee hear you? or worse, what if your parents hear you?! wonyoung didn’t seem to care, however. in fact, with how hard she sucked on your nipple and how she rubbed your clit with her fingers, it was like she wanted you to make sounds. a death wish, yes… but perhaps one you were willing to fulfill.

“off,” wonyoung simultaneously tugs your shorts and underwear down. her eyes glinted with desire as her eyes traveled down from your stomach to your pussy—desperate and dripping, but not exactly ready for her yet. “did you have fun touching yourself to me that day?” wonyoung takes note of how tightly you held onto her shoulders, how your lips have formed a thin line with how hard you were trying to hold back from whining and pleading for her to touch you already.

“yes, i did…” you nod. being completely naked and vulnerable but looked at and seen like some irreplaceable treasure made you all the more desperate to please wonyoung. she was most likely expecting so much from you—she was risking a lot after all: her father’s happiness, your mother’s trust, and your entire relationship as siblings… you didn’t want this to be a waste of time for her.

you gently pushed her hair back and sat comfortably on her lap while she eyed you down with a whole lot of feelings in her eyes that you haven't seen before. and for a moment, you thought that you could have your way with her, even just for a little bit. tilting her head and kissing her softly, squeezing the back of her neck and hearing her sweet moans, allowing you to push her back against the side of her bed and get your hands as far as her toned stomach. the upper hand was only temporary since as soon as you felt wonyoung palming your pussy, you were back to being a whiny, adorable mess.

“why don’t you finish what you started, (y/n)-ah?” wonyoung looks up at you, batting her eyelashes and smirking. she was excited, but you didn’t quite understand what she meant. considering she was being such a tease and barely doing anything to your needy cunt, it was very hard to focus! “turn around.” wonyoung says. you didn’t have time to be confused or to question her as she makes you turn your back on her herself. now you were sitting in between her lap and facing the mirror across the two of you, and only then you finally got what she meant.

but that doesn’t make wonyoung telling you exactly what she wants to see any less hot though.

“show me how you did it.” wonyoung says, her beautiful brown eyes piercing through yours as you intently stared at her using the mirror. she spreads your thighs apart and puts your pussy on full display in the mirror for the two of you. god, you almost wanted to crawl in a hole, but at this point, you were too horny to stall anything. you started by doing exactly what you did that day: gently massaging your clit as a means to get yourself wetter. from behind you, you hear wonyoung’s breathing get heavier and although you weren’t looking in the mirror at the moment, you felt her state burning through your skin.

it doesn’t take long for wonyoung to make a move herself. she leaves a trail of kisses from your shoulder, your neck, and all the way behind your ear. her hands cup your breasts again, adding onto your pleasure by squeezing and pinching your sensitive nipples. “don’t be shy now, pretty.” using one of her hands, wonyoung reaches down and spreads your lips apart for you, clearly asking for more than just whatever you were doing.

you had to admit that this was pretty nerve-racking. you rarely touched yourself and when you did, it was just… this. you didn’t have any toys to help you, you didn’t know much beyond what people called ‘vanilla sex’, and as embarrassing as it was to say it, you’ve never known what you felt on… well, the inside. you wanted to believe that wonyoung would just take pity on you and fuck you already but she had a surprising amount of patience despite the pure lust that radiated from her. finding no other choice in the matter, you slowly inserted a single finger inside your cunt.

“see? doesn’t that feel so much better?” wonyoung’s laugh was music to your ears. it was enough to get you moving—sliding your finger in and out of your pussy at a slow pace, getting a feel of what you liked just before you went faster. a string of moans left your mouth as you steadily fucked yourself right in front of wonyoung, who was quite literally having the best time of her life watching such a pretty thing like you do all of this for her. of course she wanted nothing more than to have you crying and whining herself but she also wanted to appreciate the show you were putting on.

you slid another finger inside you and you ended up moaning a bit too loudly for your liking that wonyoung had to clamp a hand around your mouth. she shushes you gently and whispers to you to go slower. while it would be nice to see your legs shake as you squirt all over her carpeted bedroom floor, wonyoung wanted to do that to you herself. and of course you obeyed even though it was disheartening to lose that sweet pressure building up in your abdomen. you didn’t know how long wonyoung was going to have you fuck your own pussy while she just watches, but for now you were fine with it.

this felt good. getting to unwind like this after a fucking whirlwind of a week was just what you needed, alone or otherwise. actually, you probably wouldn’t be loving this too much if you were just by yourself. wonyoung kept you in line, made sure you were calm, guiding you to make this moment last longer so both of you can fully enjoy it before any sense comes back to either of you to stop all of this.

wonyoung, with her left hand, parts your lips with her fingers and slides two inside your mouth. she doesn’t need to tell you what to do; you just sucked on her digits obediently without question. she pushes her fingers deeper, making you gag and pull back a bit but she keeps her fingers inside of your mouth. after making sure your drool was dripping down her palm, she pulls her fingers out and then kisses you softly. oh, your mind was but a haze. wonyoung’s kiss was a drug on its own—intoxicating and addicting. you couldn’t have enough of it.

you weren’t sure which feeling you wanted to focus on. your quickly-building climax, wonyoung’s hungry kisses, her nails digging deep down your inner thigh, or… oh, fuck, she was sliding her spit-covered fingers inside you… while you were busy fucking yourself! the sudden stretch of your pussy caused by wonyoung’s fingers being inside you as well as your own nearly makes you wail, and that is when you realized why wonyoung was kissing you. to shut you up. because she knew you were going to be so loud. with four fingers inside of your cunt, how could you stay quiet?! especially when wonyoung made sure to match your pace, but making sure she was knuckle-deep inside before pulling out then doing the same thing again and again.

“ahh… mmn—unnie..! oh, go—” a pathetic squeak slips past your lips when wonyoung uses her thumb to press against your clit. she kisses you harder, doing everything she can to conceal every noise coming from you but ultimately, she’s enjoying every fucking second of this. the secrecy of it all, the scandal, the thrill of being caught… gosh, if the two of you weren’t ‘siblings’, she would have no problem making you scream and letting the housekeepers hear every goddamn vowel that leaves your mouth.

it was too much. you pulled your fingers out and grabbed wonyoung’s wrist in an attempt to at least slow her down, but it does nothing. having more room to move now, wonyoung only quickens her pace even further. and with her free hand, wonyoung grabs your jaw in a tight grip and forced you to look at you reflection in the mirror just so you can watch how well you were being fucked. wonyoung’s fingers being freakishly long didn’t help at all; her fingertips reached farther inside you than yours did and every time she hits a certain spot inside you, you lose more of your sanity. soon enough, a knot forms in your stomach and wonyoung knew.

well, with your face all scrunched up in both pleasure and pain, how could she not know?

“do you think ryujin could have made you feel better than this…? i know you better than anyone, (y/n)… so don’t feel so bad about her not getting to fuck you. unnie has everything you need…” wonyoung couldn’t believe how soaked she has gotten over the past few minutes she has been fingering you. but this wasn’t about her at all. her pleasure comes after yours, and she was counting on you to do anything and everything to return this favor to her… that thought alone makes her clench around her drenched panties. she couldn’t fucking wait to use your mouth.

“mmh…! u-unnie, i’m—ahh… i’m gonna cum.. please let me…” you whimpered weakly.

wonyoung had intended to edge you until you were a babbling, crying mess. but that would’ve been too mean. especially right now, when you were so cute squeezing her wrist and pouting at her. “you’re so cute… what am i gonna do with you?” wonyoung plants a kiss on your temple before increasing her pace. your moans get higher, the knot gets tighter, and it’s harder and harder to hold yourself back from screaming her name. wonyoung buries her fingers deep, and the pressure in your stomach finally breaks.

but oh, wonyoung made sure you made a mess. pressing her fingers against your clit and rubbing rapidly so you’d squirt everywhere, a sick look on her face forming while she watched you. “you’re so good… i won’t have to punish you ever, hm? because you’re unnie’s good girl, right?” wonyoung smiled sincerely when you agreed and nodded. sure you were most likely lightheaded and barely knew what you said yes to, but wonyoung knew that you meant it.

it takes you weakly pushing her hand away for her to finally stop, letting you calm down and try to come back to her. the whole time you were catching your breath, wonyoung sucked quietly on her drenched fingers while staring at your gaping, spent cunt. and then she started to wonder; when the day ends and another one starts, if she were to just walk up to you and your room and kiss you… would you let her do it? what if she just got lucky today? what if you grow to hate her for all of this? for not respecting your feelings for ryujin and taking you for herself? no… no, no, she can’t lose you like that.

“are you hurt?” wonyoung asked after a while. she snuggled closer to you, keeping you warm as you were still butt-naked sitting in between her thighs. you shook your head, not even finding any energy in you to reply with your voice. it was strange… you thought wonyoung would be more concerned considering that she just fucked you nearly out of your mind… but you should’ve known better. this was a completely new side of her that you were hilariously unfamiliar with, and you being shocked when wonyoung suddenly pushes you to be on all fours was enough proof of your stupidity.

you should feel violated. this was beyond everything that you expected to do with wonyoung, and not to mention that she didn’t look like she planned on asking for you permission to fuck you again… but you didn’t say a word. didn’t make a sound. didn’t even question anything when you felt wonyoung squeeze your ass before palming your once-again dripping pussy from behind. you liked this. when the time comes for you and wonyoung to answer for this situation, you can’t even say that she used some sort of manipulation tactic to get you to submit to her.

no. you needed this. you wanted this. and you loved it all.

with your vision being limited to only seeing your hands on the floor or your reflection in the mirror, it was hard to try and prepare for anything she was going to give to you. when wonyoung pushes two fingers inside your cunt so suddenly, you gasped loudly. it was easy for wonyoung to slip in and out of you; you were so wet that there was nothing that could stop wonyoung from having all the fun in the world. the faster wonyoung fucks you, the harder you had to bite down your lip. your head drops to your arms and beautiful moans leave your mouth but this time… they’re all for wonyoung to hear.

“unnie… unnie, it feels s-so—ah! so good… please, faster.. faster…” and with you being so cute, wonyoung was sure to grant your wish pretty quickly. she was getting extremely impatient herself… the wet sounds of her hand meeting your pussy, your enchanting voice, and the lovely way you moaned her name when she steadily inserted her thumb in your tight hole… god, it was getting harder and harder for wonyoung to not turn you over and ride you until you were both crying from exhaustion and ecstasy.

“the very first time i saw you… i called dad stupid in my head. stupid for bringing such a pretty and nice girl into this family because i knew i wasn’t going to last long before i did something idiotic like this…” wonyoung curls her fingers inside you while simultaneously grabbing your hair and pulling it up, forcing you to look at your face in the mirror again. “see? such a fucking angel. how could i ever resist?” and before you knew it, you were gagging on her fingers again. and you were getting desperate for another release, pushing back against wonyoung and meeting her thrusts.

“you made my dreams come true by coming here, you know… i’m just thanking you now. i’ll thank you again later. and tomorrow. and whenever i want.” after seeing just how willing you were to do such a thing with her, wonyoung simply couldn’t wait for all the things the two of you could do now. even if it will cost her everything.

“mmfh.. i lah… agh.. i love you, unnie..” it was hard to speak with her fingers stuffed in your mouth, but wonyoung heard those magical words loud and clear. you were visibly exhausted, and your body was weak to the point you couldn’t even keep yourself upright… but you made sure your ass was propped right up for wonyoung to fuck you without any complications. wonyoung had pulled her hand out of your mouth and allowed you to lay half of your body down, the side of your face pressed against the floor as drool dripped out of the corner of your mouth.

you think wonyoung was now holding your hand, whispering encouragement and praises in your ears that kept you somewhat conscious while she made good use of your pussy. another deep dive of her fingers inside you and you cum for the second time with a long, soft whimper that was more than enough for wonyoung that she didn’t feel like making you suffer through another round. you’ve gone limp on the floor; barely having any energy to keep your eyes open. you felt your juices seeping out of you once again, drenching your thighs and of course the soft carpet, but wonyoung made sure to not let the slick dripping down her hand go to waste!

a lot of the things that happened afterwards were a blur. wonyoung helped you to her bed, cleaning you up and making sure you were hydrated and clothed before tucking you in as the sun was starting to set. in direct contrast to how she handled you while she fucked you, wonyoung seemingly reverted back into her gentle, loving older sister self as she took care of you. her arm carefully draped over your waist and kept you warm better than her blanket, and even your own. occasionally, you would feel her kiss the back of your neck and it would give you goosebumps. she intertwined your fingers and at the time, you felt the need to kiss her hand… so you do. and wonyoung must’ve liked that because she pulled you closer to her and held you tightly.

you were torn. torn between wanting to face all of your feelings and the consequences of what you just did with wonyoung, but also wanting to hope that you’d fallen asleep in your bed after sending ryujin home and that all of this, having sex with your step sister and laying half naked on her bed in her arms, was just an insane wet dream. but if it was, surely enough it would have been a thousand times harder to face wonyoung with your attraction towards her kept hidden. although it was like it was necessarily better this way; how the fuck are either of you going to have a normal conversation with each other after this? with your parents?!

the idea made you scared. mr. jang was a man with power and influence; if you anger him (which is very likely considering you, his stepdaughter, slept with his biological child), what could he do to you? to your future? and what would your mother think of you if she were to find out about this?

perhaps wonyoung heard your soft sobs because she immediately made you turn around, “hey… what’s wrong, (y/n)?” she takes a hold of your face and wipes your tears away with her thumbs. you couldn’t believe how confident she was that both of you would get away with all of this scot-free. but then again, she is jang wonyoung. she wouldn’t go through with everything she just did if she didn’t have a solid plan in the back of her mind.

or maybe she didn’t need any plans. wonyoung simply loved you and acted on that. maybe she was scared too. she wasn’t perfect, after all. underneath the confidence, the money, and the strong walls she has built around herself, wonyoung was still a softie at heart. she acknowledges that this was a bad thing to do, that this was indeed a mistake… but at the end of the day, the deed has been done and all she can do now is to make sure that she protects you from everything that might come after.

that is what she swore to do the night you became a part of her family, after all.

“listen… dad, mother, ryujin, and everything… we’ll worry about them tomorrow, okay? i love you. we’ll face everything together.” wonyoung gives you a kiss on the forehead, and you automatically snuggle back in her arms and hide your face in her chest. you ended up falling asleep to the sound of her heartbeat and the way she ran her hands through your hair… it ended up being the most relaxing sleep you’ve had in this bizarre week. every lingering thought you had about ryujin just about faded away into nothing once you got completely lost in wonyoung’s dreamlike embrace.

one thing was for sure: you felt a lot braver with the promise of your loving step sister once again proving that everything and anything she will ever do for you are good things.

[restinslices]

Believe Me

Gwayne Hightower X Female!Reader

Word Count: 2792

Summary: Gwayne bumps into an old flame and smut ensues (from his pov)

Content Warning: Smut (so minors dni), fingering, handjob, cheating, light hair pulling, light degrading and praising, vaginal sex, public sex (I hate this but we move on😭)

Gwayne Hightower was only human, and as a show of this, he had made plenty of mistakes in his lifetime. “It is not worth the stress to beat yourself over what could have been” he'd always remind himself. “What could've been if you chose the right card, woke up earlier, listened more, aimed a little to the left, ate breakfast…”. 

The list went on and on because humans make mistakes all the time. He had vowed to himself that he would never stress over these mistakes. What good would it do? The mistake was already made. 

That's the thought process he tried to keep as he made his way inside the Sept. He was not afraid of the gods deciding to punish him for the sins he was sure he had committed, or of the building crumbling down and burying him underneath. The current war going on wasn't even on his mind. 

What was on his mind was a singular person. And as he got closer and closer to the room he knew they'd be in, the thick fog covering their face in his memories started to move to the side. 

Further. 

Further. 

His steps began to falter when he finally saw them. When he finally saw you. 

You were sitting on the bench, back to him, candles aplenty in front of you. Just as he thought about turning around and leaving, you took off your cloak and set it next to you, revealing the open back to your dress. 

You were inviting him. Discarding your defenses and showing that you were open to being around him again. Or mayhaps he was delusional. Either way, he found himself sitting on the other side of you soon enough. 

“Is that really a dress appropriate for the Sept?” he tried to joke with you as he lit a candle. If it was a different time, you would've lightly shoved him and said something like “oh fuck off” while laughing. Unfortunately, that time had been long forgotten. 

You looked over at him at once, and he wondered if for a moment you thought all this was a dream. You looked him up and down, and must've realized this was all real. “Gwayne…” how could you say his name in such a delightful way? 

The surprise from your eyes soon fell, and instead it filled with resentment. “Gwayne” you said more lifeless. “Anyone is welcome here. A common whore could come, wearing hardly any clothes and she'd be welcomed”. 

“I'm sure common whores do lots of cumming”. 

You simply rolled your eyes at him and looked in front of you. “A jest, dear friend-”

“We are not friends”. 

He had known it, but fuck did it hurt to hear. It was said so coldly and cruel, like you wanted it to sting. It definitely had, though he wouldn't show it. 

“We have not talked in some time” he said with his eyes still trained on you. How could you sit there and be so beautiful? Even with a scowl and pinched eyebrows, you looked marvelous. “When I heard my sister had summoned you here as well, I admit I was a bit surprised”. 

“Why? Alicent is in need of a friend. And I am her friend”. 

Well you really knew how to rub something in, didn't you? “I tried writing to you-”

“Years too late” 

You snapped, eyes glancing over at him. Okay, mayhaps you were right. Mayhaps he should've wrote to you sooner, but he eventually did! That had to be worth something! “Why are you here?”. 

“I thought anyone was allowed here”

“It is the gods you should be speaking to. Not I”

“It is not the gods I crave” he spoke honestly. You simply scoffed in return and looked away again, causing him to sigh. “I should have wrote to you sooner, but I did eventually. And I am here now-”

“To do your knightly duties” you said dismissively. “Not to speak with me”. 

“I can do both!” his hand found your arm and he pulled you close to him, making your legs press against each other. He could hear how your breath hitched. He could see the way your chest rose and fell as a reaction to his touch. 

His fingers inched closer to your chest. “What are you-” you began to say, but the words got caught in your throat when he wrapped his fingers around the long necklace that fell in the long V neck of your dress, right in between your breasts. 

“You've kept this?”. 

Years ago, Gwayne gifted you a necklace with a large green pendant, and while the chain was completely different, the pendant was still the same. “Did the chain break?”. 

You shook your head. “No. My husband gave me a new chain. Said gold fit better”. 

He frowned. 

Your husband. Some boring guy with brown hair, brown eyes, patches in his beard and a voice that was far too high for a man. He had no real talents or skill, besides money and luck. That's how he landed you after all. 

“It is best for both of us that you do your praying and then leave. I imagine I will not be ready to leave anytime soon”. 

The moment his hand fell from your arm, he felt cold. He forced himself to look away from you and focus on the candle in front of him. So what was he to do now? Just let you go? Go off to war and accept that he'd likely never see you again? Accept you'd hate him forever?

“No” he answered himself out loud. “No. I am to just accept that your husband messed with a gift I gave you?”. 

“I beg your pardon?” You asked in disbelief. “That is what you are focusing on? That your gift was ruined?” You scoffed again and rubbed your temples. “Selfish as always. Nevermind to ask how I feel or how I have been. No. It is just stupid jokes and being offended. Did my gift put a dent in your pocket? Here then!”. You unclipped the necklace, grabbed his hand and shoved the necklace on his palm. “Take it!”. 

His chuckle afterwards was filled with bitterness. Here he was, trying to patch things up, and you kept making it difficult. “This resentment you hold towards me is ridiculous. I took too long to write to you after your marriage, but I'm here now. And this-” he set the necklace on the table. “This is a gift I gave to you”. 

“My husband gives me plenty of gifts. I do not need anything from you”. 

As if his gifts were anything special. Probably cheap and terrible material. You deserved more than that. You deserved more than some husband that probably couldn't even make you laugh the way Gwayne had. 

“Husband this. Husband that. Does shoving him in my face excite you?”. Maybe he had no right to be angry, but he was anyway. 

“I wouldn't be able to if you vied for my hand when you had the chance!” You snapped. For once, Gwayne had no response. No witty comeback or complaint. He just watched you as you realized what you said. You huffed, grabbed your cloak and got to your feet. “Good day Gwayne”. 

You managed to make it a few feet away before he finally spoke. “I should have”. Regret had gnawed at him for years now. He let you slip away. Why? Because he wasn't sure he could be committed. Did he love you? Yes. Was he a young man that wasn't fond of becoming a husband and a father? Also yes. 

“You have to understand,” he began as he rose to his feet. “Marriage was not something I wanted at the time”. 

“And you think I did?” You asked in disbelief. “Marriage was not something I wanted either. It was forced upon me. Marriage terrified me, but I knew that if I was married to you, marriage wouldn't be that bad. You were my best friend and lover. And what did you do, Gwayne?”. He couldn't make the answer leave his lips. The words felt like they were stuck in his throat and refused to go anywhere. “You left me” you answered for him. “And once I was married, you avoided me. Then years later you decided you wanted to speak again. What were you too busy doing? Drinking and fucking whores?”. 

That made him laugh. Drinking? Maybe a little. Fucking whores? It's not like he truly wanted to. It made time pass and got an orgasm out the way, but he didn't want painted whores. He wanted you to be under him. He wanted to feel your soft skin on his fingers. He wanted to hear his name pass your sweet lips over and over again until that was all he heard. 

“I made mistakes-”

“Mistakes?!”

“I made terrible choices” he corrected. “Awful ones. But you and I both know that I have always wanted and will always want you”. Those words seem to catch you off guard, which he assumed because you didn't push him away when his hands found their way to your hips. 

His face inched closer and closer to yours until your lips just barely brushed against each other. Unbeknownst to the both of you, your hearts beat as one in that moment. Both hearts erratic but somehow managing to be erratic together. 

“I want you desperately. And I know you want me…”. 

The remaining bit of space was broken and your lips finally met. Your lips responded to each other immediately and your arms wrapped around his neck. Finally… after so long you both were able to taste each other again. 

Reality came crashing down faster than he wanted it to. 

You shoved him away, making him stumble. You breathed heavily and wiped at your lips. “Won't change what happened” he said to your displeasure. 

“You are selfish” you spoke through gritted teeth. “You are an asshole” you shoved him again. “And a liar” another shove. 

Each insult you gave was followed by shove, and instead of feeling insulted, he felt something else. 

Desire. 

That desire is what led to him grabbing you, switching your positions and pushing you onto the table where no candles were. 

Your expression was full of shock, but not disgust or fear. Good. He never wanted to frighten you. What frightened him a little bit though, was his growing erection. Something that made no sense since all you had done recently was insult him. Gods, he was way more desperate than he realized. 

“Get all your insults out” he said as his thumb traced your lower lip, “tell me how much you hate me”. 

A request you had no problem fulfilling. 

“You are a vile man. Seducing a married woman in a Sept. Is there a line you're not willing to cross?”. 

There it was. Just like that. 

He began leaving open mouth kisses down your neck, eagerly awaiting what you'd say next. 

“You are a defiler full of sin”

“I am, aren't I?”. He held you in place as he bit and sucked at a particular spot on your neck, and a small smirk formed on his face when he heard you moan in response. “It seems you enjoy my sins” he taunted. 

“I hate you. No. I despise you. Even that word can't describe how I feel for you”. 

Gwayne untied your dress strap and unbuttoned the buttons in the front, allowing him to free your breasts. 

“I loathe you”. 

“I'm sure” his words dripped in sarcasm. Loathe him yet you allow him to undress you. Loathe him, yet you allowed him to fondle your breasts, then lick and suck at one of your nipples. That's how your little game continued. You'd throw insults at him in between your gasps, and he'd lick and suck harder at each breast, showing them both proper attention. His erection pressed against his trousers, it becoming almost painful. 

You lifted your leg up in response to him twisting your nipple, and your knee brushed right against his erection. He moaned around your breast before he even realized what had happened. His own eagerness being exposed only dawned on him when he felt your palm fully press against him. 

Your other hand pulled his head back by his hair, causing a sharp but welcomed pain to burn at his roots. “I always knew you were pathetic Gwayne, but this?”, a soft breath slipped past his lips when you pressed harder against him. “You like when I insult you?”. He nodded. No point in lying. Still though, he didn't just wanna hand you all the power in your game. 

He hiked the bottom of your dress up and kept eye contact with you as his fingers pushed your undergarments to the side and made contact with your soaked cunt for the first time tonight. He watched you try to keep a stone face, but you couldn't hide the sharp inhale you did. “Seems like you've enjoyed our little game too. What does that say about you?”. 

“What does it say about you that you like being called pathetic?”. 

Gwayne chuckled. He looked you over, watching as you tried not to react to his fingers sliding in between your folds. “You're marvelous…” he said almost as if in a dream. 

You yanked on his hair again and pushed his trousers down, freeing his erection. “Is this when I say you're disgusting?” You taunted. Your hand wrapped around him and shamefully he almost came from that minor touch alone. 

“If it pleases you”. 

His middle and ring finger slowly but surely made their way inside you, all while he whispered praises in your ear. 

“You're so pretty like this”

“You're taking my fingers so well”

“Open up for me. Just like that. Good girl”. 

Your head fell on his shoulder and his fell on yours. The Sept filled with both of your noises as you both continued to pleasure each other with your hands. It was clear that that wouldn't be enough. The question was just who would bend first. 

“I've got you” he whispered before placing a gentle kiss under your ear. You lifted your head off his shoulder to meet his eyes, and while there was still lust behind them, there was clearly something more. 

Longing. 

“Do you really?” You asked. 

He answered at once, “yes. I swear to you on all the gods in every religion that I'm never leaving you again”. 

You swiped at his hands and pulled him closer to you until his tip was lined up with your entrance. “And what about my husband?”. 

Damn your husband. He'd cause an “accident” to happen if he had to. He wouldn't let a man like him keep him away from the one person who truly wanted in this whole world. “I will deal with your husband and I swear you will never be able to get rid of me. Do you believe me?”. 

He asked his question as he began to push inside you. Your answer got stuck in your throat, so instead you nodded in response. Your nod wasn't enough for him, but he'd address that later. For now, he kept whispering encouraging words to you to soothe the stretching he knew you'd feel. He kept telling you that he had you, that you were okay, that you were safe with him and always would be. 

When you finally seemed adjusted, he spoke again. “Do you believe me?”. You nodded. “Out loud”. 

“I believe you”. 

That was all he needed hear. Once he got confirmation, his lips found yours and he moved inside you. Was this an all around terrible idea? Absolutely. Was there a chance of getting caught? Yes. But neither of you could care less about that. How could that possibly be at the forefront of your minds when you were finally feeling each other in the way you both craved?

You both enjoyed each other, ultimately hitting your peaks while you were still connected, mouths swallowing each sound the other made, and foreheads pressed against each other so you could catch your breath. 

His hands cupped your face and he pressed a softer kiss to your lips. Of course there was still that sexual desire there, but he wanted more than to just fuck and be rid of you. He wanted to hold you forever. He wanted to tell you about his tales of knighthood over dinner, and hold your hand as you went on walks in the garden. 

“I swear-”

“I believe you”. 

You believed him. That was all he needed. 

For you to believe him and for you to give him another chance.

Bitch I hate this shit but I haven’t posted in awhile soooooo here we are😭😭. Also the way I forgot about that necklace-

[cozage]

Hi, Coza! I hope you are doing well! I miss your writings and am so excited to see your requests are open! :)

I saw a post by sunshinescribes that talked about how Law doesn’t believe in unconditional love and how he thinks relationships should be transactional. Hopefully I can properly link it here because they do a really good job at explaining it: https://www.tumblr.com/sunshinescribes/728643191573757952/i-think-the-most-tragic-part-of-laws-character-is

I was wondering if it was possible to have a scenario based off of this post of reader just appreciating and loving Law because they want to. Like maybe they’re just waking up and reader is using the rare moment of peace and quiet in bed to spill all of their love and sappy thoughts to him. He deserves all of the comfort, love, and care 😭

A/N: Thanks for this devastatingly lovely prompt! Here's the post for everyone if you want to go give it a read (and a like!) Characters: gn reader x Law Cw: none :)  Total word count: 850

There Are No Conditions

The way the light refracted through the cabin window in the morning and bounced off of Law’s ravenous hair was one of your favorite things in this world. It was one of the few times he didn’t have a scowl on his face. He rarely smiled in his sleep, but his face almost always looked so peaceful. His eyelids fluttered for a moment, and then his face turned soft again. He must have been having a good dream. 

You noticed he was starting to get a few gray hairs. He must have been under some kind of stress recently. Though he always seemed to be since you all had entered the New World. You knew he had a lot on his mind, and you wished there was something you could do to make his life easier. You wanted to bear that burden with him. 

“Do you need something?” Law’s voice came out hoarse, but his sudden alertness had startled you slightly. 

“Nothing at all,” you said sweetly. “Just admiring you in this light.”

He groaned and pulled you in closer to him. “We’re getting curtains at the next island.”

You gave an exasperated gasp, but snuggled in tightly to him knowing his threat was empty. “And you would deny me of such a simple pleasure for what? Extra sleep?”

His eyes cracked open at your words and he peered down at you. “You cannot enjoy watching me sleep.”

You gave a sheepish smile. “It’s one of my favorite things in this world, Trafalgar Law. In fact, you’re one of my favorite things in this whole world, so everything that you do is automatically good in my eyes.”

He rolled his eyes, clearly not believing you. “Flattery is a little thick today. You might want to tone it down, or I’ll catch on to the fact that you want something.”

You stuck your tongue out at his words. “All I wanted was to look at you while you sleep!”

“Freak.” He paired his words with a kiss to your forehead to show he didn’t actually mean them. 

The two of you were silent for a while. You thought he had fallen back asleep, so you occupied your time tracing over his tattoos. But after a few minutes, he spoke again.

“Okay, seriously-” He pulled back slightly to look at you. He tended to do that when he wanted to make sure you were being truthful. “What did you want to do today?”

You were never good at hiding your emotions. You knew they had all washed over your face in a matter of seconds, and Law could read them all with intense precision. Confusion. Knowing. Irritation. And then, understanding. 

“I don’t want anything from you, Law,” you explained. “I was just…enjoying the view? I don’t know how to say it correctly. I find myself staring sometimes because I find you interesting.”

Law’s brows scrunched together in confusion. “If you wanted a good view, the deck and the sea are far more interesting. Especially at this time of day.”

You gave a humorless laugh. “I love you more than I love the sea, idiot.”

He froze at those words, and you could see him struggling to make sense of them. “So you were staring at me…?”

“Because I love you,” you finished for him. 

That didn’t seem to help. “And you love me because…?”

“I don’t know!” You gave out a sharp laugh at the thought. “There are no reasons and so many reasons! But there are no conditions for my love, Law! I just love you because I love you. I can’t say exactly why I love you. I just do!”

You had really done it now. You were fairly certain you had never seen Law more confused or more flustered than he was in this moment. He gave a hard swallow and nodded his head, but you could tell further clarification was still needed.

“You don’t understand,” you said, watching his eyes turn to the ceiling. If they went there, that usually meant he was lost in thought. 

He shrugged. “I do, in a way. I feel that way about you, but I…well, I never expected someone to feel that way about me.”

The weight of his words made your heart sink. He deserved more than anyone to know how much he was treasured. You would die for him for no other reason than love. And while he could grasp the concept, he couldn’t understand why someone would feel that way towards him. 

“How about I tell you all the things I love about you?” you offered softly, trying to pull him away from his thoughts. It was too early to be thinking of such deep topics.

His eyes shifted over to you, and you could see he was half alarmed by your offer. But you could see the smallest spark of intrigue. 

So you began listing everything you could think off, absentmindedly still tracing over his tattoos. 

The sun was more than halfway across the sky before you finished. And there was a soft smile on his face during your all’s afternoon nap. 

[wholoveseggs]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do an Elijah x reader with period sex😭 i can’t find one and i really wanna read something about Elijah during that time of the month🙏

Bloodier Bath

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Aunt Flo comes to visit and the noble Elijah once again stands up to the bitch.

♡♡ Thank you for the request sweet anon! The first fic I ever wrote was Bloodbath & it has a special place in my heart! It's what inspired me to start writing in the first place! This is obviously a vampires favorite thing to do... and it's crazy there isn't more fics on it!!! ♡♡

2.7k words - Warnings: smuttt, oral sex, period sex, so much fluff, Elijah being sweet and caring...

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer

You woke up feeling like shit, a dull ache radiating throughout your body. You knew exactly what it was, but actually moving from the comfort of the bed to confirm was a different story.

A quiet groan escaped you, the mere thought of the day ahead exhausting. You could feel the pain of the cramps radiating through you, the feeling of the sheets and clothes on your skin uncomfortable and irritating.

Your boyfriend stirred next to you, his warm hands reaching out and pulling you into him. Elijah let out a yawn, and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, his arms wrapped protectively around you.

"Morning," he said softly.

"Morning," you replied, snuggling against him.

You wanted to stay close, but you felt too warm and uncomfortable. With a heavy sigh, you untangled yourself from his arms, rolling out of bed and going to the bathroom.

You turned the shower on, stepping under the warm spray and letting the water soothe you. The steam from the shower filled the air, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the relaxing sensation.

When the water turned cold, you reluctantly got out and dried off. You wrapped a towel around your body, and as you walked out of the bathroom, you saw a tray waiting on the bed. Elijah had gotten up and made breakfast, complete with a fresh cup of coffee and a heating pad.

He was propping up the pillows for you, arranging them just right so you could lay back comfortably. He flashed a small, knowing smile as he noticed you in the doorway, watching him.

"Thought you could use a little pampering this morning," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours.

"What I need is for you to kindly rip out my ovaries," you grumbled, the cramps making you extra moody.

"How about I start with the heating pad?" He offered, motioning for you to join him on the bed.

"Thank you," you said, walking over and climbing onto the bed. He helped you get comfortable, placing the heating pad on your stomach and wrapping a blanket around you.

You picked up the mug of coffee and took a deep sip, groaning softly as the warm liquid slid down your throat. "This is perfect, Lijah, thank you," you said, setting the mug back down on the nightstand.

"Are you going to work today?" He asked, gently stroking your hair.

You let out a sigh, not really wanting to face the day. "Probably not, I feel too miserable," you said, resting your head on his chest.

"Take the day off, relax, and do whatever makes you feel better," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I can't do nothing," you protested.

"Yes, you can," he countered, a stern look on his face. "And you will, if I have to tie you down to keep you here."

You laughed softly, knowing that he would actually do it. "Ok, fine," you said, settling into his embrace.

He was so sweet and considerate, taking care of you. His gentle nature and soft words made the pain subside, and you relaxed, closing your eyes and letting the warmth wash over you.

You spent the day in bed, watching movies and talking, enjoying each other's company. He was always so attentive and thoughtful, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed.

As the day drew to a close, you started to feel better, the pain fading and your mood changing. You wanted to reward Elijah for being so sweet and supportive, and you had the perfect idea.

You reached over and cupped his cheek, turning his head so he was looking at you. "Thank you for taking such good care of me today," you said, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"Of course, I'm happy to do it," he said, brushing a stray hair from your face.

"I want to make it up to you," you murmured, giving him a suggestive look.

He smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkling. "Oh? And how would you do that?" He asked, playing along.

"I have a few ideas," you said, sliding your hand down his chest and between his legs, rubbing him through his pants.

You watched as his pupils dilated, his arousal growing. "Is that so?" He asked, his voice dropping an octave.

"Mmhm," you hummed, leaning in and kissing him deeply. He returned the kiss, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer.

You broke the kiss and moved lower, kissing along his jaw and neck, biting his earlobe gently. He groaned, his grip tightening on you.

You smirked, loving the way he reacted to your touch. All you wanted to do was show him just how grateful you were, and you knew just the way to do it.

You loved how he looked when he was turned on, his normally calm and collected demeanor replaced by one of lust and need. You kissed your way down his chest, pausing at his waistband.

But to your surprise, he stopped you, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head up. You sat up, pouting a little, wondering what you did wrong.

In one sudden, swift move, he grabbed your waist and flipped you onto your back, hovering over you.

"As much as I appreciate the thought, that's not exactly what I want," he said, his voice a low rumble.

"Oh?" You asked, arching a brow. "And what is it that you want, then?"

He smiled, his eyes roaming over your body, then he leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and insistent. You returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

As he kissed you, his hand moved to the hem of your shirt, slowly pushing it up. His fingertips brushed against your skin, sending a shiver through you.

"Oh, I see," you giggled, the realization dawning on you. "You like me when I'm messy and bloody, don't you?"

He chuckled, a low sound that sent heat straight to your core. "Don't make me admit it out loud," he teased, nipping at your neck.

You smiled, tilting your head to the side, giving him better access. "Admit what? That you like fucking me when I'm on my period? Such a filthy vampire... " You taunted, running your hands through his hair.

Elijah growled, his hands tightening on your hips. "Keep talking like that, and I'll show you exactly what I want," he threatened, his voice rough with desire.

You couldn't help but laugh, loving how he could go from soft and caring to dangerous and possessive. "Oh, I'm counting on it," you said, tugging his hair.

His dark eyes flashed, and he surged forward, claiming your mouth in a bruising kiss. He didn't waste any time, his hands moving to your underwear, pulling them down and tossing them aside.

"Eli- I was kidding... I'm gross right now... " You protested, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

"Not to me," he replied, kissing his way down your body. He paused at your lower belly, looking up at you with a smirk.

His vampire nature, usually hidden so well, was peeking through. His eyes had turned completely black, with dark veins under his eyes, his fangs visible behind his parted lips.

You couldn't help but shiver at the sight, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through you. "Elijah... " You breathed, not entirely sure what to say.

He gave you one last look, then dipped his head down, his tongue darting out and swiping over your folds.

You gasped, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through you. Elijah's tongue was skilled, knowing just where to lick and suck, his hands gripping your thighs. You were already so sensitive, and his actions sent sparks through you.

Elijah worked his tongue inside of you, lapping up your blood and juices, drinking every drop. It was messy, and there was a small puddle of blood on the sheets, but neither of you cared.

Your body tensed and the cramps returned, but in a different way, because you knew once he was done, they'd be gone for a while. Your moans grew louder as the pleasure built, and your legs began to shake.

He hummed happily, his mouth and nose pressed against your center. He was in complete bliss, having his cake and eating it too. There was truly nowhere else he would rather be.

The feeling was amazing, and you couldn't hold back anymore. Your orgasm hit you, and your back arched off the bed, a string of curse words escaping you.

He groaned as you came, your taste flooding his mouth. He was relentless, keeping his pace and holding you down as you writhed beneath him.

Finally, the aftershocks faded, and you slumped back against the pillows, panting heavily. Elijah placed a few kisses on your inner thighs before sitting up, licking his lips.

His face was covered in blood, he looked utterly insane and you burst out laughing at the sight. Your perfectly composed, always clean and tidy boyfriend was now a bloody mess.

He leaned down to kiss you, but you held up your hand, stopping him. "Nooooooo," you squealed, unable to stop laughing.

He smiled, his teeth bloody too, and it sent you into another fit of giggles. He joined in, the two of you laughing like children.

You had never seen him look so wild, so free. He was normally so careful and precise, and seeing him so messy and uninhibited was a huge turn-on.

"Hold on," he said, disappearing into the bathroom.

He returned with a clean face, but his shirt was still covered in blood. He crawled back onto the bed, hovering over you, his eyes raking over your body.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You rolled your eyes, not exactly agreeing when you were in this state. "Thank you, but I'm not," you protested, shifting uncomfortably.

"Yes, you are," he insisted, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his hands moving to your thighs. "And if you won't believe me, then let me show you."

You couldn't deny him, and you relaxed, letting him take control. His hands gripped your thighs, parting them so he could settle between them. His eyes were locked on yours, his gaze intense and full of love.

"Ready for more?" He asked, his lips ghosting over yours.

You nodded, a quiet moan escaping you as he eased into you. He moved slowly, knowing how sensitive you were in this state. It was a new kind of pleasure, a slow burn instead of the usual fiery explosion. He took his time, savoring every moment, committing every detail to memory.

He rocked his hips, the pace steady and deep, his lips finding yours. The kiss was soft and slow, matching the rhythm of his movements. The feeling was incredible, and the cramps had completely faded, your body fully relaxed.

"Lijah... " You whispered, your nails digging into his chest.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He buried his face in your neck, kissing and biting your skin.

He groaned as he picked up his pace, thrusting deeper and harder. The sounds he was making were so delicious, and you pulled his hair, wanting him to moan more, loving how he was coming undone. His self-control was slipping, and he was losing himself in the pleasure.

"You get so fucking hot when you're like this," you purred, watching the way his muscles flexed as he moved.

He laughed, his breath warm against your neck. "Like what?" He asked, his voice muffled.

"When you're on the verge of losing it," you said, tangling your fingers in his hair. "It's sexy as hell.” 

He chuckled, lifting his head to look at you. "And you're so damn gorgeous when you're bloody and sweaty," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You laughed, the sound fading into a moan as he hit that sweet spot. Your head fell back against the pillow, and his hand found yours, lacing your fingers together and pinning it to the bed.

The pace quickened, and you both knew it wouldn't last much longer. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the smell of blood and sex, and it was all too much.

He kissed you deeply, the taste of iron still on his lips. His hands squeezed your hips, pulling you into each thrust. You couldn't take it anymore, and the tension that had been coiling deep inside of you snapped.

Your nails raked down his chest, your moans lost on his lips as you came. All the pain and tension immediately faded, replaced by pure bliss.

"Fuck... " Elijah growled, burying his face in your neck. His rhythm stuttered, and he came with a low groan, his hips jerking as he rode out his orgasm.

You were all hot, flushed and sweaty, but it was the most blissful feeling. You felt like you could melt into the sheets and die right there, but then you would miss the look on Elijah's face.

His eyes were half-closed, his lips parted as he caught his breath. His hair messy, his clothes stained with blood, and it was a sight to behold.

"I love you, you know that?" You murmured, cupping his cheek.

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your palm. "I love you too," he replied, his voice rough.

You ran your thumb across his bottom lip, and he smiled, his dimples on full display. He was always so handsome, but there was something extra special about him when he was like this.

"You're so cute," you teased, booping his nose.

He scrunched his nose, then playfully bit the tip of your finger. "You're adorable," he countered, his voice soft and sweet.

You smiled, your cheeks growing warm. No matter how long you'd been together, he still had that effect on you.

"Come here," he said, wrapping his arms around you and sitting you up, pulling you into his lap.

You giggled, snuggling against him. He kissed the top of your head, his hands resting on your waist. You sat like that for a while, enjoying the closeness.

You were exhausted and ready to sleep, but the mess had to be cleaned up. You were sticky and soaked, and the sheets were a mess.

"I think it's time for a bath," he suggested, brushing his lips against your neck.

You grinned, leaning back and looking up at him. "Only if you join me," you said, arching a brow.

"It's a deal," he replied, grinning back.

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips, then he carried you to the bathroom, setting you down on the side of the tub. He turned on the water and peeled his bloody shirt off, tossing it into the trash.

"You really are filthy," you teased, a playful smirk on your lips.

"It's not my fault that once a month I'm presented with the perfect opportunity to get a little messy," he retorted, giving you a smug look.

"A little?" You said, looking him up and down.

There was blood covering the bedsheets, his hands, his cock and of course between your legs and down your thighs.

"Alright, maybe a lot messy," he relented, shrugging his shoulders.

You giggled, watching him test the water, making sure it wasn't too hot. He was so sweet and caring, always looking out for your comfort.

He helped you into the tub, then got in behind you, pulling you against him. You sighed, enjoying the warmth of the water and his body against yours.

"Thank you," you murmured, your eyes closing as you leaned back against his chest.

"For what?" He asked, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

"For everything," you said, opening your eyes and tilting your head to look at him.

"So, same time next month?" He teased, smiling down at you.

You laughed, playfully slapping his thigh. "Sure, but this time, let me take care of you," you said, wiggling your eyebrows.

"It's a date," he said, his hand trailing down your body.

The two of you stayed in the tub until the water started to cool, then you cleaned up the room and settled back into bed, snuggled in his arms.

Sure, periods suck, but when you have a man like Elijah, they aren't all bad.

[from-izzy]

be fair | nct park jisung

"You're not bringing us down. You're not bringing anybody down," Jisung shakes his head hurriedly. "I promise. We'll take this step by step remember?"

pairing » nct park jisung x gn!reader (lmk if i missed anything!)

trope/au » established relationship au, non-idol au, implied friends to lovers

genre » fluffy fluff with a little hint of angst, hurt/comfort for the reader, supportive and patient boyfriend jisung, jisung who just wants to treat you right, also shy but sometimes confident (?) jisung

word count; estimated reading time » 1650; ~6 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » mentions of a toxic past relationship (reader), jisung implied to be taller, rapid proofread once

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 nct dream masterlist

based on this request! thank you for sending it in anon and i'm sorry it took a while for me to write 😭 i hope you (and everyone else!) enjoys this one!!

The romantic season has finally started, and that also means that sweet treat of early leave that you applied for at the start of the year. You're keen on using the leave to spend more quality time with your loved ones, especially your boyfriend Park Jisung.

From the introduction from mutual friends, you've known Jisung for a long time. Long enough for him to know your favourite drink and your comfort food. Long enough for him to send you cute hamster videos, and comfortable enough for you to reply with a "That's you!" to which Jisung reacts to the message with a blushing emoji; his face perfectly depicted that emoji too.

The exchanges became pretty limited when you got into a relationship. Yes, Jisung is glad you were able to fall in love, but the dried tears on your face whenever he catches a glimpse of you make him feel otherwise. The one-year toxic relationship would continue for a few more months. Some of your friends were understandably frustrated with how you wouldn’t leave, and despite explaining that words aren't easily acted out, the stress only made your room swallow your sobs even more. In the end, when things were better, you confronted all and cut off some.

The reality is that, we could always be prepared for something, and give others advice but when it happens to us, the world stops. Rational thinking may follow after. At that time, you need to surround yourself with healthy and supportive people. That’s who how Park Jisung is to you.

Jisung really did take care of you, every step of the way. Whether it was sending groceries to our house, sending daily affirmations, and despite his lack of experience and nervousness, helping you draft an email to your boss for a short break to take care of yourself. He's open to telling you that he's not sure what to do, but through simple communication, Jisung was the key for you to escape your toxic ex-boyfriend, and the dreadful aftermath of the relationship. That relationship was ages ago, and now you're happily in a relationship with Jisung for a month.

"Ah," Jisung pouts at the reminder. "You're bringing that up again?"

"I can't help it!" You chuckle at your date who takes another spoonful of his soup, adjusting his scarf after to hide his blushing cheeks. "You said I was hot like soup and then confessed right after!"

If the table could come alive and swallow Jisung up, he would appreciate that very much. "But I really did mean it! You've always been hot but that day you were just, you know...amazing and beautiful...I couldn’t help but say my thoughts…"

Every time you bought this up, Jisung would always become flustered. Just like every other time, his cheeks and the tip of his ears flare, his eyes smile but look away from yours, and sometimes his speech stutters due to his racing heart. But this time, maybe it's the heart-shaped decoration by the entrance of the sore, the roses in the middle of the table, or the way that Jisung called this a date. The environment is bustling but not in the sharp clanging of cutlery on porcelain, but the laughter that wraps the both of you in a loving embrace. 

Last month, as Jisung delivered his feelings for you smoothly like the ice cream in your hands, your gaze on him softened. You doubt it was the ice cream that spread warmth through your chest and your cheeks. You’ve realised your growing feelings for him throughout the past year, but never dared to speak up; not after your relationship even though you know Jisung is nothing like your ex. Your love for Jisung grows after each date, after each brush against his skin and the kisses he places all over your features. Everything that Jisung did in your presence, reminds you that your feelings for him are reciprocated.

"I thought we agreed that I would pay next," sulking at the fact that you lost the credit card battle once more.

"There will always be a next time," pressing a quick peck on your lips.

Jisung's words have always seemed so confident, but just like the soup from dinner earlier, you're sure that the redness across his cheeks isn't from the cool weather. Even with thick winter gloves, you can feel Jisung's hold like you both were skin-to-skin as you walk along the illuminated footpath from open stores. You talk about everything that came up in your mind, taking turns to nod when Jisung does with yours. Your words are always safe with him, the same way his words are safe with you. Your stories continue to be shared, but it wasn't overbearing; not like how you were treated in your past relationship.

Similarly, Jisung loves to tell you about his day, and coo about the two birds leaning against each other not too far away. Jisung loves to go into detail on the things you talked about on text, all the while observing the windows of the shops for things you liked. You fall in love with his voice which pulls you back into the present whenever your mind drifts somewhere else. Whenever those times hit, Jisung has picked up on some things: the glimmers in your eyes fade, your fingers grow weaker or stronger around his, and your hums would be monotonic and randomise between the middle of his sentences instead of the end.

You're habituated to the shoes shuffling on the gravel, so when you stop, you immediately turn your head to Jisung who's a step behind you. Your eyes widen and your lips tremble at the realisation that you missed parts of his stories.

Your heart drops at your actions. I'm sor-"

"Are you alright?" He interjected. Your hands untangle from his as Jisung fixes your scarf. "Don't want you getting cold," lifting the material to cover your lips and chin better. His eyes resemble a smile when he's satisfied with the adjustment and he rests his palms on your shoulders.

"Sorry, I'm just thinking again," eyes downcasted to your shoes that pointed to his.

"No, it's okay," your boyfriend reassures. "I love listening to your voice. I can never get enough of it."

"Really? I just don't want you to feel like you have to listen to all these things because you really don’t have to-"

"But I love it," he cuts you off once more. Jisung slips a glove off, his palm cupping your chilly cheek. Your head tilts, meeting the reflecting Christmas lights behind you, and how clear your reflection from his orbs. "I love hearing all this because that means you trust me and are comfortable with me telling me all these things."

"Of course, I am, Ji," placing emphasis on the affirmative words. "I just hate how you've always treated me right from the start but I keep on doing this thing where my mind goes to the past and I just bring us down and-"

"You're not bringing us down. You're not bringing anybody down," Jisung shakes his head hurriedly. "I promise. We'll take this step by step remember?"

You focus on the soothing glides that his thumb did on your cheekbones, closing your eyes to savour the gentleness. Jisung steps closer to you, wrapping your body with his arms. His deep tone soothes your mind, and you place an ear to where his steady heart is. All the negative thoughts subside slowly, but surely.

"What you went through was scary, bubs," he whispers, "and I don't expect you to just get over it. You're allowed to be scared."

"But it's not fair on you, Sung..."

"What's not fair is you thinking that it's not fair.” A tear or two escapes your eyes, and your lips shudder at the sincerity of his voice. Your hand lifts, only to clasp onto the hem of his jacket. Jisung guides your breathing, messaging his fingers onto your scalp reassuringly. “You’re not being fair to anyone if you act like nothing happened. I want you to always be open with me, okay? I want to support you. Always.”

“Okay,” your answer comes out hushed, and you’re worried that Jisung didn’t hear it. 

You lift your head from his chest, intending to repeat your answer to make sure it gets across. But all words halted when Jisung’s lips fell upon your forehead dearly. The pink deepens into red across his cheekbones, and Jisung hides his eyes behind his overgrown bangs as he stares down at his shuffling feet. For yourself, the heat rises to your cheeks, and you’re sure that Jisung could feel them even through his gloves. And just if that wasn’t enough to make you melt in this winter, Jisung confesses his feelings for you once more as wills himself determinedly to look into your eyes.

“I love you. So, please be fair to yourself.”

There was no way that you could say anything to that, not with how he hits you the words filled with honesty. You see the way his eyes slowly morph into uncertainty at your silence, worried that he made you uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry-” His words are cut off with a kiss on his cheek.

“Don’t be,” you beam at him with the cutest smile, brighter than the sunset behind you. “I love you too, Sungie.”

Delighted with the positive response, Jisung lowers his back to be at eye level with the person that he loves. His thumb traces along the bottom of your lip, index following the shape of your jawline as he gulps at where he puts his finger. You’re met with Jisung’s eyes, and no words are needed when you understand what he is asking for. Your sure nod left Jisung almost sweeping you off the ground, joining his lips with yours sweetly under the warmth of the sunset. 

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 nct dream masterlist

tags: @k-films @kflixnet @starlit-network @kstrucknet

@haneul-and-clouds

[ocinstar]

Cat nap

Peter parker x fem!reader

Summary: after a long mission, you end up falling asleep on the shoulder of a certain spider boy.

Cw: blurb, fluff

A/n: I've been struggling with such bad writers block, so here's a blurb i managed to write. (Sorry if its not the best 😭)

Wc: 616

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Peter and I groaned in unison as we sat down on the jet. We sat there in complete silence, both our bodies aching after the 2 hour long mission we had just had. As the jet rose off the ground and took off, I felt my eyes grow tired.

"I never wanna stand again." I leaned back against the wall and blew the strand of hair that had fallen on my face away. All I got from peter in response was a weak groan of agreement. He leaned back with a huff, rolling his head to look at me.

"Do you think Mr. Stark will let me nap on his couch?" I turned my head to him.

"If he doesn't I'll put fart spray in his helmet." He gave me a tired chuckle. His loopy smile, tired eyes and messed up hair almost made me forget the aching pain across my whole body. Peter had a talent for making me feel better, or making me forget what there was to feel better about.

We both turn our heads forward, falling into a comfortable silence. The heat radiating from peter onto my arm and the quiet hum of the jet had my eyes feeling heavy. I found myself struggling to keep my head from tilting, slowly falling towards peter. I fought to stay awake, but soon enough my eyes closed and sleep overtook me.

~~~

I let out a surprise gasp as i felt something hit my shoulder. I glanced over, feeling my heart start to race upon seeing a sleeping y/n. Her face was serine, calm breathing and a few strands of hair tickled her cheeks.

I felt my face heat up, turning a light shade of pink. I could hardly believe this was reality, that she was really asleep on my shoulder. My shoulder! The girl of my dreams, my long term crush, was now peacefully sleeping on me. I know she didn't mean to, that it was an accident, but yet that didn't stop the nervous smile creep up on my face.

I did my beat to stay perfectly still, doing my best not to wake her. She shifted her head slightly, causing more hair to fall on her face. Her nose twitched, insinuating the hairs were tickling her. I cautiously moved my hand to move from her face and tuck it behind her ear. She hummed lightly, a sound that made me weirdly happy.

I didn't move a muscle as she continued to nap peacefully on my shoulder. She stayed there for the entire ride home. Bucky and sam took notice of my situation and naturally teased me about it, making jokes and jabs for the other half of the ride.

It pained me when we landed, since that meant i had to wake her up. I contemplated not waking her, staying on the jet till she woke up on her own. But i assumed she'd want to sleep in her comfortable bed rather then my hard shoulder. So I called to her softly and shook my shoulder lightly. I watched as her eyes fluttered open, her gorgeous eyes now revealed.

"Hey there sleeping beauty." I joked softly. She looked ul at me, her eyes still hooded and half asleep. She gave me a tired, loopy smile and sat up.

"Um, sorry for passing out on you." Her cheeks darkened, an embarrassing tint linger on them.

"It's ok, you needed some sleep."

"Well, thanks." We both stared at each other awkwardly, neither of us knowing what to to next.

"Do you wanna watch a movie or something?" She asked, looking away. I nodded and we both stood, walking off to enjoy our night.

[jade-jini]

I’m sorry for not posting in like forever but I’m having insane thoughts rn (thanks to the gay writers. I’m looking at you ugar.) about Giselle and her boobs and and -

Giselle who knows you have an oral fixation so always lets you suck on her nipples. Sometimes it’s not even sexual sometimes you just wanna cuddle and sleep with them in your mouth <3 most of the time tho-

It’s supposed to be a way to relax you and it does but 😭 it also can make you go insane and lightheaded because the sensation and taste of her chest in your hands and mouth is just so good UGH. You always make a wet mess on her chest ‘cause you get so needy about them.

“Jesus y/n, Wtf baby?” She says in a scolding tone but not really.

“I’m sorry, they’re too pretty, can’t help it. Can I keep going please?” You just can’t get enough of them, and of course she lets you. Whether you have small or big hands, it doesn’t matter they are BIG and just so perfect.

Giselle who knows she can turn you into her personal little fucktoy, a human-size sex toy as long as she has her boobs in your mouth ‘cause your brain turns into nothing 🤤. She fucks herself on your strap or rides your pussy for hours without you getting tired, having her coming multiple times and of course leaving her chest almost numb ‘cause you didn’t stop giving them attention at all.

For g!p reader listen to me I can’t not talk about this… but fucking her tits broooo. You’re on your desk trying to get some work done and she either noticed you were stressed or simply felt like it because cmon, this woman knows she’s hot and sexy and (I need to write about how much she can turn herself on). Anyways, she gets on her knees in front of you and you’re like ?? But your cock has a mind of its own and it’s already getting hard just by that image. She giggles at how easily she can get you horny and ready. Aeri loves knowing the effect she has on you. So she starts unbuttoning her shirt and surprise! Of course she wasn’t using a bra (imagine using one at home😨). Aeri took your member out of your pants and in her hands to start working on it with her mouth as well until you were painfully hard and wet (which didn’t take too long). Once she thought you were ready, she put your cock in between her tits, and squeezed them together creating a perfect friction.

“Fuck baby…” you sighed as she moved them up and down your length. This was one of your favorite things fr. You wanted to kiss her but she lightly pushed you to your chair.

“Nope.” She simply said with that teasing smirk of hers and she started going faster, your hips matching her speed as you fuck her tits. “Relax, baby. Just focus on making a mess on them yes? Come on them, enjoy the view of your cum on my body.” You ended up doing a complete mess on her chest and face, and Aeri made sure to lick you clean and to collect some of it with her finger and taste it, moaning at the taste that she so much enjoyed, and there you were, hard af again and ready to keep going.

Giselle who lowkey bribes you and makes you do whatever she wants with the promise of letting you suck on her titties nfixncknd from behaving at the mall after spending hours in there when you just wanna go home to running errands for her 😭 (you’d do it either way but the extra motivation ain’t bad-)

Going back to a more fluffy side tho- Giselle who knows when you had a rough day and the only thing you want is to cuddle and watch a movie with her, movie that you never finish ‘cause you pass out in her arms as you suck on her tits and she plays with your hair, making you have the best sleep and dreams with your gf and her perfect body <3.

(A little thing I needed to get outta my system but I’m working on the asks I promise 😭)

[njstokkis]

dream

huh yunjin x gn!reader

synopsis: yunjin headcanons <3

word count: 600~

warnings: fluff; really really short oh lawd; yunjin being kind of chaotic; this is low-key self-indulgent oops; author is lonely on valentines day so they're writing this to cope; just random yunjin thoughts; not proofread at all so if there's errors I'm sorry ㅠㅠㅠ

a/n: i don't think I've mentioned but english is NAWT my first language 😭 pls go easy on me (go whattt???) also, tysm for the support on the last fic???? omg i wasn't expecting so much but i really appreciate y'all interacting, it makes my day!!! I'll try my best to write more in the future, thank you in advance for reading!!

• physical touch is a BIG thing in the relationship, this girl genuinely can't stand a second without touching you. PDA queen.

• you're working? she's plopping down on your lap or sitting next to you.

• you're going out? trust me, she's gonna be all up over you, (with discressions in case of paparazzi of course) holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist, showing EVERYONE you're hers.

• you're going to the bathroom? hey, it's her again, this time she's literally holding your hand outside of the door as you do your business. she's just like a puppy. (puppy yunjin soon????????)

• she doesn't care whether if it's the smallest touches, (although she'd much rather be stuck and molded to you everyday), she just needs to feel that you're next to her. like linking your pinkies together, thigh touches, hugs, cuddles, whatever works honestly.

•this girl LOVES pet names

• yunjin's favorite to use is probably jagi (love) or baby, and you'd fawn everytime she says it. (real)

• she'd say it so casually too, like answering your calls or responding to a question etc, etc.

"hey darling, you okay?"

"oh, baby, be careful!"

"of course, my love, anything for you." (she proceeds to exaggeratedly wink and throw up finger guns, biggest dork ever)

• even before you got in a relationship, she'd still called you petnames from time to time, and you'd discreetly try to hide your face, trying to not let her know you're down bad for her as she teases you. like UGHHHHHHHHHHH. (sorry)

• remember when I said dork?

• yea so

• dorkdorkdorkdorkdorkdorkdor-

• like she strikes me as the type to be able to talk about her interests for HOURS on end, to the point where you have to forcefully make her shut up (wink wink). jk you can't, she just starts back up again after a while.

• probably forces you to watch documentaries on jellyfish and explain the facts further so you understand better

• you pretend to hate it but come on...it's yunjin, so you just roll your eyes with a small smile and pretend to be annoyed while you listen to her rant

• oh you bet your ass you're spoiled ROTTEN when y'all go out.

• she'd give you her card and be like, "take your pick, my love."

• like GIRLIE???

• she'd take you out to dinner dates and secluded fancy restaurants, and she'd pay for every single one of them.

• literally slaps your hand away when you offer your cash or card, and gets upset cuz the AUDACITY of you to think that you had to pay when SHE'S the one taking you out??? lunacy.

• SO many inside jokes.

• like people literally look at y'all so weird, cuz wtf do you mean there's these bitches howling; doubled over even; in hysterical laughter in isle three????

• you're her muse, like need i say more.

•she loves to just whip out her notebook and start writing random lyrics when you guys hang out, or spend time together. her creativity just flows so much better with you, at least according to her.

• she'd be the type to serenade you randomly, like you just woke up and you'd just see her sitting on your bedside, guitar in hand, her phone propped up on her thigh, idly scrolling. her eyes lighting up as she notices you slowly wake, quickly getting her guitar in position.

"y-yunjin...? what are you doing..."

"but iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii caaaan't helpppp falling in loooooovvveeeeee withhhhh youuuuuuu~"

"baby, it's...7 a.m."

• overall, she's the cutest dork and you love her to death for that.

[adonis-koo]

sweet nothing • 8

| in which you run into an old costumer |

↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.

His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader

↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!

Word count: 3k

Previous | Next

Note: just know that the only reason these updates take so long is because I keep writing plot based chapters and I really just wanna post fluff based chapters 😭

“Thank you for taking me out!” You grinned as you took a large sip of your hot chocolate, it was still definitely not cold enough for it yet but you didn’t care.

Something about hitting your third trimester had you wanting to nest like crazy, it had you going around the estate cleaning and getting guards to help move furniture around.

You really had no right to be doing it but nobody told you otherwise.

Jungkook had come back midday, surprisingly early, he had paused in the entry hall of his home locking eyes with the pregnant menace that had abruptly put herself at the forefront of his life once again.

It was then he realized you definitely needed to get out of the estate.

“If it keeps you from not moving all my stuff around,” He shrugged, leaning back in his seat, eyes flickering from his phone to you.

You frowned, “I’m sorry, I don’t even know what possessed me.” You sighed, “Well I do, they say third trimester can make you start nesting.”

“Nesting?”

You glared are the way he snorted as if not believing you, “It’s a fact, you can look it up.”

“The fuck is that even supposed to be? What are you, a bird?”

“It means you just get the innate urge to just…” you puffed your cheeks, ignoring that look he was giving you, “Clean and decorate and just…I don’t know I can’t describe it! Just wish I had my own place to do that with and prepare for the baby.”

Jungkook sighed, his eyes went from looking at you to dropping down to your stomach, it was round when you had first come to the estate, but it was evident six weeks had passed, “Then maybe it’s time we talk about a nursery.”

You paused, getting ready to take another drink from your cup but it never meets to your lips.

Jungkook sighed, “I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but finding your brother has quite literally lead me to dead ends I didn’t even think would exist. You’re almost thirty weeks pregnant, that’s less than three months.”

“Okay yeah I can do basic math, but it’s already been almost two months. Surely it won’t take another two months to find him,” You pressed your lips together nervously.

“Would it be so terrible if you gave birth in the estate? It’ll probably be a better experience than the hospital.” Jungkook commented, picking up his coffee as he took a sip.

It wasn’t that you were against giving birth in the estate, professional staff in the comforts of a bed? That was a luxury every woman could only dream of having, it was more the aftermath of it.

The idea of still living at the estate post pregnancy…it was a dangerous thought, it was too close to the life you had once wanted with Jungkook.

You just weren’t sure how to articulate that too him.

Jungkook finally raised a brow at you, noticing your lack of reply.

“I just…don’t want to get too comfortable at the estate.” You finally spoke carefully, “I don't think that's good for anybody involved.”

“I understand but I also don’t like being unprepared- in any aspect concerning me or my estate, and that includes you whether you want it or not.” Jungkook replied, “Just because a nursery is there doesn’t mean it’ll ever be used, it’ll just be there so first of all, you stop moving all my shit and you have a place to do your bird stuff-“

“Nesting.” You glared, lips quirking into a pout as your hands wrapped around your stomach.

Jungkook’s lips curved a little, “Bird stuff. And second, if it does turn out that your stay is extended, it’ll be ready.”

You still weren’t completely sold on the idea, if anything you felt like it would just feed into the delusion even further.

“Why hello there mama.” Another voice suddenly cut in, grabbing a chair from the empty table next to you both and plopping it on the side of your table.

Jungkook immediately straightened up, eyes glaring daggers that could definitely kill, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Yoongi!”

The man brushed his black hair from his eyes a quirky smirk on his face as he shrugged, “Uh I’m just stopping in to say hello to my favorite barista who got put on bed rest early.”

A smile twisted on your lips, you were familiar with his face, he had been a regular for almost two years, the realization however quickly hit that Jungkook was very acquainted with this man.

You felt flabbergasted for a moment, you couldn’t believe you never made the connection that the regular customer Yoongi was also Underboss business partner Yoongi.

“It’s nice to see you again Yoongi! I can't believe I didn’t recognize you as Jungkook’s partner…” You sheepishly smiled.

Jungkook clearly didn’t share the same sentiment, his nostrils flared and he looked ready to maul his partner.

“Nah probably for the best you didn’t realize. You as well, you look only a thousand times prettier, have that pregnancy glow about you.” Yoongi threw your a wink.

Jungkook wasn’t sure what made him more violent, the fact that you both were already well acquainted or Yoongi so casually flirting with you.

It was part of his personality but it still didn’t make any attention he or any other male gave you, any easier for Jungkook to witness.

“If you aren’t here for business, get the fuck away from our table.” Jungkook gritted his teeth, as if it took every fiber of his being to not right hook.

Yoongi didn’t seem phased, “Oh I was just in the area, been coming to Serendipity for a long while now, and then I suddenly see my favorite barista who’s been gone for two months, of course I have have to say hello.”

“Okay well you said hello, now go the fuck away.”

“Jungkook!” You said sternly, “Don’t be so stubborn, Yoongi can sit with us for a few minutes at least.”

His eyes were a raging fire as they burned into you, his chest puffing but he said no more as Yoongi observed you both, a smirk on his face as he leaned back in his chair.

“How are you enjoying the estate Y/n?”

You smiled tenderly, “The company makes it honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without Jungkook and Yeonjun.”

“Yeonjun?” Jungkook looked like he sucked on a sour lemon as he spat the name out.

“I still want my apartment back but I’ve made the most of the it. What about you? Why haven’t you come to visit if you knew where I was?” You asked, curious as to what the man had been up too.

Yoongi’s gaze flickered to Jungkook, “Well…let’s just say I was asked to not drop by unless it was absolutely necessary.”

“And it isn’t.” Jungkook gritted.

“Okay well first of all this doesn’t count cause we’re not at the estate, second of all you’re not the only one who has relations to Y/n, I mean have you ever had this woman’s chai? Or her baked cinnamon rolls? Talented hands right there.” Yoongi stretched out in his seat, that playful nature about him.

“Oh don’t flatter me.” You shooed his praise.

“No you deserve all the praise in the world, in fact you deserve-“

“We’re going.” Jungkook stood up from his seat, sick of this if he had to hear one more word come out of his stupid partners mouth.

“Jungkook!” You complained, but nevertheless took his hand when he offered it, “Please visit Yoongi, you’re conversation is always welcomed.”

Yoongi only smiled, sunk into his seat as he watched the tall broody figure practically drag you away, it made him laugh in amusement.

Yoongi by no means kept an eye on you the last two years for his own benefit, but he supposed somethings would always remain thankless.

He had accomplished what he wanted though, evidently no matter how much Jungkook talked- and he talked a lot, it was clear he had grown possessive over you in the last few months.

Yoongi shook his head in amusement, watching the viper leave the parking lot through the window, he was happy to see that old spark in his partner return.

“What was that about!” You complained, immediately dialing the heat down to sixty in the car.

“You shouldn’t be talking to him,” Jungkook grumbled, hands gripping the steer wheel as if he was trying to strangle it, “If you care about your baby’s safety you’ll make an active effort to not talk to him.”

“Hes been one of my regulars for like two years,” you complained, “How was I supposed to know he was your partner? I never even officially met him! What makes him anymore dangerous then you? Hm?”

Jungkook deflated, obviously not having a good reason, “The difference is I’m protecting you.”

“Oh so you’re saying he wouldn’t?”

“The point,” Jungkook gritted his teeth in annoyance, “Is don’t talk to him.”

You frowned as you twisted to fully look at Jungkook, was he…jealous?

“Are you mad that I’m paying attention to someone else?” You asked upfront, you could only be discreet about so many things.

“I’m not mad”.

“No you’re definitely mad.” You replied pointedly.

“I’m annoyed that my business partner is talking to me outside of business.” Jungkook replied.

“But he was talking to me, not you.” You crossed your arms.

“He was doing that on purpose.” Jungkook huffed.

It was silent for a long moment as you folded your hands into your lap.

Of course you didn’t have to point it out, but truthfully it felt too ridiculous to not? “Are you jealous?”

“No.”

There was another pause.

“Why would I be jealous?”

“You tell me,” you replied, a pout on your lips, “You always do this when someone talks to me, men specifically.”

“Do you actually want an honest answer?” Jungkook looked even more annoyed, even so much as throwing you a frosty glance before his eyes returned to the road.

You blinked before a troubled frown slowly curved on your lips, you could think of several ways he’d be honest and none of them you’d be able to fully believe.

“What I want,” you took a breath, “Is to be able to have a conversation without you looking like you’re shooting daggers out of your eyes.”

“I wasn’t shooting daggers out of my eyes.”

You puffed your cheeks, “Well you claim you don’t do a lot of things, that you do in fact, do.”

“How about we just stop talking.” Jungkook replied.

You pouted but spoke no more as you yawned.

“Do you wanna go home?”

You nodded with a small groan, “Yeah, I need to take a nap,” you nodded with another yawn.

Jungkook only nodded in return, eyes occasionally glancing at you, attempting to sleep in the car, when did his life start revolving around you this much?

[81folklore]

older - LECLERC

pairings: charles leclerc x male!singer!reader (fc: luke hemmings)

summary: singer yn ln releases a love song with his boyfriend, and the public are not prepared for who it is about

authors note: this has been on my mind for SO LONG. i honestly dont like how many fics ive been doing on the same people (charles, lando etc) but whenever i go to start a new one on my list for someone else i think of something that i have to do😭 also in this reader is not a part of 5sos but close friends with the 3, wfttwtaf is readers album and older is exclusivly the readers song

authors note 2: i wanted to quickly clarify i am NOT speculating that charles or luke are gay/queer and this is not my intentions. luke obviously sings older and i find it easier to visualise it this way, while the reader in this is male, this could also be read as gn!reader. this is FICTION please do not tkae this as me speculating anything

authors note 3: i didnt really know what i was doing with this so its kind of all over the place and very rushed :/ but then again when arent my smau all over the place?? also can you tell i hate writing comments by the way i just dont😭

masterlist

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, ashtonirwin and 818,937 others

we started this song together back in 2020 and picked it back up at the end of 2022

'Older' was originally a voice memo of a 50’s-style love song that we wrote together, then forgot about. when thinking of concepts for my debut album i stumbled across the memo and fell in love with it all over again, but i put it aside yet again as to me, it deserved more than the album

the song has changed a lot from the original voice memo, but the meaning has stayed the same throughout. despite all the beauty, the ups and downs of a long-term relationship over many years, there’s inevitably going to be the worst moment of your love because one of you is going to lose each other

capturing those feelings in a song was tricky but ultimately we wrote from the heart and i think it shows in the song itself

this has always been a song between us, so having him play on this song was very importnt to me and im glad he said yes

older is now yours

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, calumhood and 1,727,338 others

im very pleased to announce a very special one off show at the Royal Albert Hall in London this November 18th. I will be playing a bunch of tracks from my debut album and may be joined to play some others aswell! Tickets on sale this monday at 10 am BST. Lots of love always, yn x

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yourusername

liked by 5sos, charles_leclerc and 2,719,936 others

thank you for an incredible night at the royal albert hall

looking back at the best night of my life, i need to thank each and every one of you who allowed this dream to come true, i will never be able to thank you guys enough

performing in my dream venue, with my favorite people in the world was something i never thought was possible and yet here i am, writing this still on my high from last night

thank you to my friends; michael, ashton and calum who took the time to come to london and perform their songs with me, thank you for always loving me and agreeing to my crazy ideas

to my team and everyone who worked to make this night as special as it could be, thank you. thank you for making my htoughts a reality and making this night as wonderful as possible

thank you to the staff who worked throughout the show to make sure everyone was safe, well and looked after. you truly do not get as much credit as you deserve and i apreciate the hard work you put in to keep everyone happy

thank you to those who joined me, i wish each and every one of you who wanted to could have been there. thank you for singing along and listening to me pour my heart and soul into my music

thank you for letting me do this x

view comments

user55: not the pcd hitting already☹️

user1: and im supposed to pretend i didnt see yn and 5sos perform os/co??

user89: CHARLES?? YN IS DATING CHARLES??

user91: AND HE CAME ON STAGE?? AND THEY PERFORMED OLDER??

user50: i cant believe i saw this all happen live

user47: THANK YOU TO WHOEVER WAS RUNING THE GRAINY LIVESTREAM I OWE YOU MY LIFE🧎🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

ashtonirwin: thank you for everything yn. youre a real life angel

user16: NO CHARLES MENTION??

user9: BESTIE HE HAS A WHOLE POST

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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, michaelclifford and 3,619,273 others

after having time to process this show, I feel so overcome with gratefulness. my music means so much to me and seeing so many people resonate with it in a live space was so special for me.

charlie, my life would literally fall apart without you and this would have never happened without you giving me the confidence to do so, i hold so much love and admiration for you

thank you for joining me on such a special night and performing our song with me, thank you for sticking with me through it all and thank you for allowing me to share this part of my life with you

i sometimes wonder where i would be if i didnt find you, if i wasnt blessed with your love. i try to think about the times before you, before us, but both feel impossible to do after feeling your love

life with you is so special and i promise to always cherish and love you

merci de m'avoir laissé vieillir avec toi, merci de m'avoir laissé t'adorer, merci de m'avoir choisi (thank you for letting me get old with you, thank you for letting me adore you, thank you for choosing me)

yn x

tagged: charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc: mon ange, je t'aimerai toujours (my angel, I will always love you)

charles_leclerc: je suis tellement privilégiée d'être celle que tu aimes🤍🤍 (I'm so privileged to be the one you love)

yourusername: vieillir avec toi ne semble pas si effrayant🖤🖤 (growing old with you doesn't seem so scary)

[merlucide]

SEA’S SECRET 3⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Notes: .. sorry for how long this took 🫠 I started writing then I stopped, then I started, then I stopped, I started— also wrote the majority of this sleepy so sorry if it’s wonky😭🙏

pairings: merman!chigiri x mayor’s daughter!reader

wc: 1.9k

warnings: reader is fem, thalassophobia(?)

chpt: 1 2 3

You had been visiting the merman almost every day since the day you two met. Over the weeks, you’d grown to know him, and he’d grown to know you. You’d share stories about your lives—your hopes and dreams, the mundane tasks of both of your lives, and so on. Each encounter was a revelation, a dance of curiosity and laughter, deepening the bond that had formed between you.

Your regular meeting spot remained by the cliffs, but you always ventured a bit further down the beach, away from prying eyes and the bustle of town. The soft whispers of the waves greeted you as you made your way to the secluded cove. Today, you carried a wicker basket, its woven fibers tightly bound with a little blue ribbon tied on the side.

As you approached the meeting space, you scanned the shimmering sea for his signature raspberry hair. Just as you were about to settle onto the rocks, his head popped out of the water, and a grin spread across your face.

“You’re late,” Hyoma remarked, feigning indignation, though the gleam in his eyes betrayed his playful demeanor.

You scoffed, a smile dancing on your lips. “Oh, am I? Ha, my sincerest apologies, my good sir.” You lifted the flap of the basket and pulled out a piece of fairly warm bread, presenting it like a prized treasure.“I hope this can excuse my tardiness,” you said warmly, placing the basket down and stepping into the cool water, your loose dress swirling around your legs.

Hyoma inched closer, propping himself up on the sandy shore, half in and half out of the water. He took the bread, inspecting it with an air of curiosity. “What is this? You eat it?” he asked, tapping the surface of the crusty loaf.

“Mhm! I made it myself—hope it’s still warm.” You boasted, pride swelling in your chest as you watched him take in the aroma of your creation.

He took a cautious bite, his sharp teeth sinking into the crisp yet soft dough. Instantly, his eyes widened, and his fins expanded in delight. 

“Glad you like it,” you laughed, watching him eagerly take another bite, bits of bread clinging to his cheeks.

“Do oo havph moor?” Hyoma snaps his head to you, his slitted pupils widening and cheeks puffed out as he spoke. You couldn’t help but beam at the sight.

“Why, yes, I do! But don’t eat it too fast; it’ll upset your stomach if you gobble it down,” you replied, pulling out a second loaf from your basket.

As you stood there, watching him scarf down your bread, you studied the way his fins perked up after every bite, how his gills flared in and out with each breath. his dazzling tail swayed against the gentle waves, and his hair was perfectly messy. If you looked close enough you would see tiny shells tucked away in his braid. 

“Thanks for the bread,” Hyoma said, rinsing his hands in the sea. “I don’t have anything to give you in return..”

“Ah, it’s no worries! I don’t need anything, really; I’m just glad you like my bread,” you replied, a warm smile lighting up your face.

“Tomorrow I’ll bring you something,” he promised, his gaze locking onto your e/c eyes, sincerity shimmering in the depths of his slitted pupils.

You smiled, shaking your head. “Alright then, thank you.”

Hyoma grinned, his demeanor brightening as he slid back into the sea. “Bring more bread.”

You chuckled and nodded, watching him disappear beneath the waves, the water rippling gently in his wake.

The next day, you were determined to make an even more delicious bread than before, it would be the perfect loaf of bread. As you kneaded the dough, your hands working rhythmically, you could almost picture his delighted expression when he tasted your creation again.

“Goodness, Miss L/N, you’re making more bread? The two loaves you made yesterday weren’t enough?” Aya remarked softly, a hint of mischief in her tone as she wiped her hands on a dishcloth.

“A-Ah well, I believe I’ve perfected my recipe and wanted to try again,” you replied, rolling the dough against your palms with care.

Aya smiled, her warmth radiating through the kitchen. “Your bread is just fine already, miss. Your husband will most definitely love the meals you’ll make.”

Ah, husband. The word echoed in your mind. “Haha… yes, I’d hope he would.” Even with Aya, you couldn’t escape the pressure of being wed. The expectations hung like a heavy cloud over your head.

Noticing the change in your mood, Aya softly bowed her head. “Ah, forgive me for mentioning that, Miss. You really mustn’t worry too much about that. You still have plenty of time before you are to find a husband,” she reassured you, hoping to ease your mind.

You have confided in Aya, how that isn’t what you want, and that you don’t even know what you want! She does her best to console you, but she doesn’t entirely understand. To Aya, it seemed like a luxury to have handsome, wealthy men lining up for your hand, but for you, it felt absolutely suffocating.

Hours passed, and finally, with a larger loaf nestled securely in your basket, you made your way back to the cliffs. As you sat down on one of the sun-warmed rocks, fiddling with the ribbon tied around the basket, you couldn’t help but notice he was a bit late this time. Normally, when you two met, he’d be waiting under the waves for you.

Just as you were beginning to worry, ripples formed closer to you, and there he was. Hyoma swam over, crawling up the beach just enough to stay halfway in the water. He held a brown sack in his hands, a soft expression on his face.

“Oh? What’s this?” you asked, gesturing to his bag with your eyes.

“I told you I was going to give you a gift in return for your bread—and you brought more, right?” he confirms, tone becoming more serious.

You tapped your basket’s side and murmured a soft ‘yes’ in response, earning a joyful flick of his fins.

“Now, I wasn’t sure what to give you… but I hope this will suffice,” Hyoma said, his voice tinged with nervousness. He pulled out a necklace from his sack, a string of pearls and smaller shells adorned with small starfish, and a sand dollar in the middle. It was so pretty, so dramatic, and so different. Out of all the gold and silver jewelry you had been given from your parents and suitors, this was the most beautiful of them all.

“Mermaids my age wear necklaces like these; I guess they’re pretty popular,” he said shyly, his gaze lowering. “So if it doesn’t meet your standards— I wasn’t sure what would be a good gift for your bread—”

“It’s perfect,” you interrupted, holding the necklace delicately, your fingers grazing over the divots of the sand dollar. “It’s absolutely beautiful-  Goodness, Hyoma, this is gorgeous!”

He could feel his cheeks warming under your admiration. “I-I’m glad… I helped make it.”

You looked at him, eyes wide with surprise. “You made this?”

His fins opened wider, and he darted his eyes around nervously. “Well, I mean— yes, I guess. Not all of it; I just found the shells or whatever. My friend actually made the necklace.”

(He’s had this necklace for a while, just wasn’t sure if he should give it two you for not) don’t alter this !!

You beamed at him. “Thank you, I love it.” You smiled warmly, putting the necklace on.

“Now give me the bread,” he said, his expression shifting to serious.

You laughed, pulling the loaf from your basket handing it to him, which he eagerly accepted.

Hyoma’s fins perked up, “Oh- I’ve told you before I like to collect human things that have sunk—“ he said dumping his brown sack onto the shore, and a variety of trinkets spilled out.

“Can you tell me what they are?” Hyoma asked, his curiosity piqued as he eyed the assortment.

You focused on the items, examining the ordinary yet intriguing objects. “This is a pocket watch, or a clock. You can tell the time with it, but this one is broken from getting wet,” you explained, closing the lid of the watch with a soft laugh.

“I thought maybe it was part of a lady’s necklace or something,” Hyoma murmured, munching on his bread.

As you went over the other items, you pointed out coins, compasses, and various bits of metal, each with its own story and history.

“This is the last one,” he said, handing you a small metal cylinder covered in rust with tiny bumps along its surface. It took you a second to realize what it was—it was the inside of a music box, and it looked like it had seen better days.

You rinsed it off in the water, trying to free it from the sand stuck between the gears. “I don’t have a clue what that is, to be honest,” Hyoma stated, eyeing the metal contraption with intrigue.

After scratching off some rust and turning the crank, a rough but lovely tune played into the air.

Hyoma’s eyes expanded, and his fins flared as he stared at your hands in awe. You finished the tune and handed it to him, who took his turn first playing with it. The rusty-yet delicate notes echoed softly in the air, mixing with the gentle sound of waves lapping at the shore.

“I’m surprised it even works,” you smiled, watching Hyoma spin the shaft. 

He played around with it, the sweet melody filling the space around you. You found yourself playing with the shells on your necklace, lost in the moment. The music floated in the air, weaving a spell of comfort and connection between you.

But alas, all good things must come to an end. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, Hyoma gathered his belongings and shuffled back into the soft waves. You waved goodbye, promising to see him soon.

Hyoma swam away from the cliffs, diving deeper into the clear sea. His shimmering scales caught the last remnants of moonlight filtering through the water.

After some time, he finally made it back to where he called home. Surrounded by coral and sea life in every direction, Hyoma felt a sense of belonging, yet his heart tugged toward the surface. Most mermaids stayed in groups and traveled together, which made Hyoma a bit of an odd one out. He had a ‘group’ but was more independent, more curious of what was above the surface. 

All mermaids are curious, no doubt, but most ignore their curiosity out of fear of being caught. No one knows about Hyoma’s trips to the surface, not his friends or family, and he intends to keep it that way. Well, intended. 

As he entered his hidden cave surrounded by seaweed and clams, he dumped out his sack, placing his trinkets back with the others. But he didn’t expect to be met with two mermen floating in the entrance.

“You’ve been going to the surface this whole time?!” A blue-haired merman exclaimed, absolutely dumbfounded.

“Ooohoohooh~ You’re breaking the rules, y’know~,” The other friend giggled, his yellow eyes sparkling mischievously.

Well, the cats out the bag now.

pt 4 (not here yet!)

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @sharkissm @luvingshidou @kurona-theshark@soleilonthesun @duckydee-0 @someprettyname @thebestsetter @ih8tegeography @rinitoshisgirl @lobster3713 @thebestsetter

help I wasn’t sure how to end this 😭 sorry if this didn’t meet ur expectations dawgs 💔

Made Oct 5th 2024