#fic: love’s only demand is that we fall
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accio-sriracha · 22 hours ago
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The Scars Kept Hidden
A snippet from an unpublished drarry fic
Okay... @bradleysass won, I'm releasing my wip arsenal. (Definitely not just because it's easier content than actually finishing these wips...)
Enjoy this snippet from an eighth year drarry fic!!
"Where have you been?" Pansy demanded as he entered the common room, "You do realise how late it is, don't you?"
Draco waved a hand dismissively, "They aren't enforcing curfew on Eighth years, you know that."
"C'mon, Dray." Blaise sighed, standing up from his armchair, "We were worried. Where were you?"
"I was with Potter." Draco conceded, only because he knew they probably were worried.
With the amount of people out to get him, he had to be extra careful not to go out alone.
"You were with Potter?" Pansy repeated slowly, "Are you okay?"
He knew what she meant by that. Despite the concern in her eyes, he knew she was asking what he did to him.
"Oh, for the love of Salazar. I am capable of being around him without hexing him, you know?"
Pansy held up her hands, "Alright. I'm sorry." She shared a look with Blaise, "Did anything... was anything said?" She asked.
Draco cocked an eyebrow, "No, we stuck to handwritten notes the whole time, actually." He quipped.
"You know what I mean. About the- About the trial?"
This made Draco freeze, he hadn't been expecting that question,
"What about it?" He asked quietly.
"Did he say anything at all about it? About who he might have spoken for?" Blaise asked, hesitating, "Or against?"
Suddenly it all made sense. The way they were looking at him like some sort of wounded puppy. how they stayed up waiting for him to get back.
He let out an irritated laugh, dripping with venom,
"Oh, Merlin, I can't believe I didn't think to ask! Maybe next time the two of us are having a friendly chat about the war that traumatised an entire population of people, I'll be sure to bring it up. Maybe I'll even ask about his parents next, or what it was like being dead!" He snapped, turning around and marching towards the boy's dormitories.
He ignored Pansy calling after him, ignored the knocking at the door and the quiet apologies.
He couldn't believe they thought he would actually ask something like that, as if he and Potter were just dying to rehash some of the worst moments of their lives.
Draco stayed awake for a long time, his head swimming with thoughts of Harry Potter.
He couldn't help it, the way Potter had treated him like they were friends.
He knew it was only temporary, they had acted that way when they were alone, but Draco knew the glares and sarcastic comments would be back within the first five minutes of actually having class together.
"Draco?" Blaise's voice drifted through the darkness of their room late that night.
"Hmm?"
"Do you think you'll finally let Potter go this year?" He asked.
"Let him go?" Draco repeated, "How do you mean?"
"You know what I mean, Dray." He whispered.
The knowing tone of his voice made Draco's heart skip a beat.
"I'm afraid I don't, actually." He replied, attempting in vain to keep the defensive tone out of his own voice.
"Alright. Just..." He paused. Draco sat up and looked at him, his expression was worried even through the darkness, "Just try not to get hurt, yeah?" He asked.
Draco rolled his eyes, "Potter couldn't hurt me even if I was standing still and unarmed."
Blaise just shook his head quietly, a defeated sigh that said all too much falling from his lips, "Goodnight, Dray." He whispered.
"Night, Blaise." Draco turned over, pulling the covers up past his shoulders.
He couldn't remember the last time Blaise had been that serious with him and it unnerved him greatly.
He tried not to think of the implications as he drifted off to sleep.
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gojorgeous · 1 year ago
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“heatwaves”
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pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k
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Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot. 
Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way. 
But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably. 
“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.” 
You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross. 
You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before. 
Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…
“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones… 
When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing. 
Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers? 
“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man… 
You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.” 
Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused. 
You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour. 
You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen. 
“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?” 
 Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was… 
“Yes… Thank you.” 
Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”
You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…” 
“Take care.” 
Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources? 
You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think. 
You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?
You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?
You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.  
You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor. 
Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you? 
Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.
You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor. 
“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?” 
“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?” 
Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside. 
You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips. 
“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”
You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully. 
The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin. 
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost. 
“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing. 
“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.” 
That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”
He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree. 
“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground. 
“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.
He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker. 
But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it. 
“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply. 
That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?” 
You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”
His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”
You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.
That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands. 
You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”
You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right? 
You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed? 
Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power… 
“N-no–” 
A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?” 
You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper. 
Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls. 
Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard. 
“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper. 
His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.” 
Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–” 
“‘M following your scent, baby.” 
He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love. 
You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin. 
Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning. 
“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.
Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.” 
You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key. 
“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak. 
“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper. 
He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right. 
He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough. 
You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts. 
The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation. 
“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.” 
His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.
“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again. 
You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs. 
You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-” 
“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back. 
You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.” 
Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants. 
The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty. 
His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm. 
Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-
“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need. 
“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.” 
You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.
“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.” 
You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before. 
“You on birth control, baby?” 
Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…
You shake your head. “N-No…” 
There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.” 
There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively. 
“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back. 
Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name. 
“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts. 
His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me. 
“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers. 
“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now… 
Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together. 
Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.” 
You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair. 
Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones. 
“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”
You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut. 
“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed. 
His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he. 
You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does. 
His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry. 
You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.
It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.
You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision. 
His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to. 
Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.
His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here. 
His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time. 
A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.
There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.
His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?” 
Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”
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spideyjimin · 2 months ago
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✨ my all time favourites BTS fics ✨
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⟶ soo i've been really wanting to do this for a while already but i didn't really have the time to do it… soo here you have all the fics that I deeply loved & that i sometimes still read again 🫶🏼those fics are really amazing & thanks a lot to the writers for those masterpieces! 💞
sweet | ksj @oddinary4bts
⤷ Drabble of idol Jin coming back from the military and trying to sort out his situationship with the girl he left behind when he went into the military
idol!au, a bit of angst, fluff and smut
meraki | jjk @taegularities
⤷ Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.
e2l, grumpy!jk (+ photographer!jk) x sunshine!reader; fluff, smut
motherfuckin' train wreck | jjk @lovieku
⤷ when renowned fuckboy jeon jeongguk catches feelings, he loses his mind. only when it comes to you, though.
fwb au
new guy | knj @kithtaehyung
⤷ all you want to do is have a successful meeting after experiencing dwindling attendance, but the new guy is completing disrupting things... or is he?
smut ; university au ; enemies to lovers?
into it | pjm @xpeachesncream
⤷ helping your bestfriend out with his research project happens to come with more than what you bargained for. 
grad school au, idiots to lovers au, strangers to lovers au, angst, smut
bands | jjk @xpeachesncream
⤷ jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you. 
strip club/nightlife au, post grad au, fluff, angst, smut
lowkey | jjk @xpeachesncream
⤷ in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.
college au, fake dating au, friends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut
saudade | kth @chateautae
⤷ a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it’s time to find out why.
angst, smut, fluff (the holy trinity), idol!au, established relationship!au
100 km/hour | pjm @chateautae
⤷ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?
college!au, smut, pwp
fine line | jjk @soobibabe
⤷ Y/N, a 28-year-old dreamer whose plans for marriage and motherhood crumbled when her fiancé, Jae-on, decided to "see other people," leaving her adrift in a sea of unfulfilled expectations. Just as she’s about to face the cringe of attending his baby shower with his new girlfriend, her best friend Jungkook swoops in with a wild idea; why not embark on a platonic co-parenting adventure together?
romance
hazy hours | myg @borathae
⤷ part of the kinkoctober 2024
new relationship!AU, Idol!Yoongi
fxck a fxckboy | myg @yoongifis
⤷ where you sort of hooked up with one of the school’s biggest fuckboys but end up leaving him hanging and never contacting him because…well…why not? somehow the universe brought you two together and now you’re left with dealing with him because he apparently caught feelings for you.
smut, pwp
before we shatter | jjk @caramelkoo
⤷ dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.
established relationship, idol!jungkook
warm nighs & clear lines | jjk @awrkive
⤷ there haven't been a lot of people who have come into your life that became important to you – and you didn’t expect jeon jungkook to be one if it – not at all. but what started as a casual relationship turned into more than that, and now you find yourself deeply in love with him – and happily so.
or; your first "i love you" comes out completely wrong.
SMUT, fluff
all your fault | jhs @minisugakoobies
⤷ It’s all Hobi’s fault!
smut, drabble, PWP, established relationship, non-Idol!AU
muscle memory | knj @taegularities
⤷ the weather outside might be trying to chill you to your bones, but watching Namjoon's seething hot presence work out is enough to melt every little piece of you - and he sees the longing in your eyes all too soon.
establish relationship; some fluff, mostly smut
magic stick | jjk @badbtssmut
⤷ Jungkook is kinda sad because he has never been with a girl who could take him balls deep because of his size, reader doesn't believe him and she wants to see, but he tells her that he can't atm bc he's not hard. She is wearing this kinda halter top style with no bra so she looses the top and shows her tits to him and let's him touch them. After he's hard he shows her his dick and she says she's willing to try to take it all and she rides him into the sunset
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helaintoloki · 6 months ago
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Hey I want to request something since I saw your request was open. So can you do a fic where five and y/n ( they are already married) end up in the deli with the other fives.
Basically there are only few fives that have a y/n but she's died in their timeline. So basically it's just the other fives wanting to know more about her abd the fives telling their stories of their y/n
Y/n absolutely loves the attention she almost sequeled when she saw the other fives lol.
a/n: so this actually ended up turning into a more depressing piece than i planned LOL but the original intention is there
warnings: language, angst, mentions of death, light amount of fluff
summary: your search for answers leads you to a deli with multiple versions of your husband inside
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As the danger of the impending apocalypse finally begins to sink in for Five, he realizes he needs to get you somewhere safe until he figures out a way to stop the world from ending. Thus, while his siblings continued to fight off the monstrous cleanse that was Ben and Jennifer, Five quickly grabbed hold of you and jumped you both to the only place he could think of.
You stumble over your own feet as your body adjusts to being dropped into a new setting, your hand quickly raising to shield your eyes from the bright neons that hang above you as you take in your surroundings. A subway car comes to a screeching halt in front you, and before you can protest Five is quickly ushering you inside.
“Five, where are we?” You demand, completely disoriented from having been transported away from the fight without warning and preoccupied with worry at the thought of your family fighting against the Cleanse without you both present. “Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you somewhere safe where you can stay until I figure out how to undo this mess,” he instructs you hastily, his lips pulling back into an exasperated frown at your resistance to enter the subway car. He doesn’t have time for you to fight him on this, his siblings need him, and he needs you away from the fight. Though you’re skilled at combat and wickedly smart, you don’t have powers, and Five can’t risk something happening to you while he’s preoccupied with saving the world.
“You’re leaving me?!” You exclaim in distress as panic immediately begins to take over your rational mind. You push against him harder to move away from the train, but despite all your efforts the boy doesn’t budge.
“It’s only temporary, I promise you,” he assures you, and when you shove him hard in the chest once more he tightly takes hold of your hands and brings them to his lips to comfort you. “I’ll take you somewhere nice, somewhere with a beautiful house and a garden full of strawberry bushes. I found it while exploring other timelines in search of clues on how to prevent the apocalypse, I know it’s safe because I went there alone. You can stay in the house until this is all over and I’ll come back for you.”
“Five, what if…” you swallow harshly as tears begin to well in your eyes, your emotions overtaking you at the thought of this being goodbye, “…what if you don’t come back?”
Five refuses to meet your gaze when the question leaves your lips. He’d never lie to you, and he knows he can’t guarantee he’ll live long enough to join you in the peaceful timeline he’d found, but he doesn’t have the heart to voice this to you. How can he look you in your tear filled eyes and tell you that this might be the last time you’ll be together as husband and wife?
Sighing, he releases your hands in exchange for cupping your face so that he may brush away the tears that slide down your warm cheeks. He hopes that one day you’ll be able to understand that every moment leading up to this has been for you, and he would happily die a hundred times over if it meant keeping you safe. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”
You open your mouth to argue only to snap it shut when your gaze falls over his shoulder and lands on another figure in the subway. You blink away your tears to get a better view and are left speechless when you realize you’re staring back at the face of your husband.
But how can that be when he’s standing right in front of you?
Noticing your change in demeanor, Five follows your gaze and spots the lookalike that stands across the way from you both. His features contort into confusion as you both watch the second Five offer you a wave in greeting before disappearing down the stairs. Exchanging looks of uncertainty, Five and yourself immediately rush after the doppelgänger to figure out just what exactly is going on.
Your quick chase leads you both to the front doors of a deli, the dazzling sign above welcoming you warmly as you cautiously open the doors and set foot into Max’s despite Five’s protests to wait. If this other Five has the answers you need to return home safely together, then you’ll stop at nothing to get them.
Your originally confident demeanor quickly dwindles when the restaurant becomes deathly silent upon your entry. While you only expected to see one Five, you now find about twenty of them staring intently at you as you slowly walk towards the lookalike from the subway that waves you over to his table. Five is quick to rush after you and place a protective arm around your waist; you’re not the only one unsettled by their stares, and he feels uncharacteristically territorial in the presence of himself.
“Have a seat,” the subway lookalike offers with a gesture towards the empty space across from him, and you’re both quick to slide into the cushions at his command. “I’m glad you found me.”
“What is this place?” Your husband demands impatiently as another Five dressed in a waiter’s uniform approaches your table with three cups of coffee in hand.
“This is where all the Fives come after they decide to give up on figuring out a way to stop the apocalypse.”
As he speaks, a plate of pie is suddenly placed in front of you, and before you can even open your mouth to question it, the waiter offers you wink and assures you, “It’s on the house.”
Picking up the fork, your eyes widen in surprise as you realize what specific dessert has been given to you. Looking up at the Five across from you, you ask, “How did he know that-“
“Pumpkin pie is your favorite?” The lookalike finishes for you with an amused smile before leaning back to take a drink of his coffee. “We all know that, because we all know you.”
“Me?” You repeat quietly, brows drawn together in confusion as you look to your husband who seems rather displeased with all of the attention you’re getting. He never once thought to think of himself as potential competition over you, but it figures. Who better than himself to sweep you off your feet?
“Mind telling me why you all seem to have such a great interest in my wife?” Five demands with a wry smile, eyes blazing with annoyance and a subtle hint of jealousy.
“‘Your’ wife?” The Five behind the deli counter scoffs in amusement. “Take a number, pal.”
“What deli Five means to say is that each and every one of us has our own y/n in our own perspective timelines,” the boy across from you clarifies before gesturing to the the back of the shop. Your eyes widen in shock as you take in all the various pictures of yourself that line the wall from top to bottom, and it takes you a moment to process the fact that various versions of you have existed throughout time unbeknownst to you.
“My y/n was a trained assassin,” the Five at the table next to you describes with a dreamy smile before biting into his sandwich.
“Mine was sent alongside Hazel and Cha Cha to kill me,” another voices while pulling down the collar of his shirt to showcase the ghastly scar on his chest. “She gave me this along with three beautiful kids before I screwed it all up with this end of the world bullshit.”
“If you all care so much about her then why did you give up trying to save the world?” Your husband protests in agitation. Your search for answers is going absolutely nowhere, and you’re both left with more questions than solutions. If these doppelgängers were really meant to be him from different timelines, then why did they quit so easily? His sole purpose, his entire being, was doing everything in his power to ensure the safety of his family. Come hell or high water, Five would always be willing to get his hands dirty if it meant you and his siblings lived to see another day. So why weren’t they doing the same? “Why come here instead of preventing the apocalypse so she has the chance to live a safe and happy life even if it means you can’t be in it?”
A forlorn silence fills the deli at his question, and now none of the Fives can find it in themselves to look at you. Their features are almost shameful, their eyes full of guilt and their shoulders full of tension as no one dares to answer.
“When us Fives find a way to save the world, y/n is the one that pays the price,” the boy across from you discloses somberly before tilting his head to meet your gaze. Looking at you is like looking at a ghost, and he has to stop himself from reaching out to you as if you are his own. “The Handler killed my y/n after discovering my betrayal of the Commission.”
Another Five raises a woeful hand before announcing, “Viktor killed my y/n on accident with his bow after he discovered his powers.”
“My wife took a bullet for me because she thought my life was worth more than her own.”
“Dad had y/n disposed of in my timeline because he saw her as a distraction to me and my siblings.”
“Cha Cha tracked us down, found our home, and burned it to the ground with y/n still in it while I was away trying to save the world.”
You swallow harshly and ignore the knots in your stomach at hearing all the violent ways in which other versions of you had met their end. Your heart aches at learning what these men have been through and how much they’ve lost, but it also makes you begin to wonder if your fate will be worse than any story they can come up with. Sensing your discomfort, Five wraps a comforting arm around your figure and pulls you closer into his side.
“No matter how many times I traveled back to make it right, the result was the same,” the boy across from you relents in a desolate tone. “If I couldn’t even keep the most important woman in my life safe then how could I expect myself to save the world?”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” you murmur softly, taking it upon yourself to reach across for his hand and offer your comfort. “I’m sorry for all of your losses. But as a y/n myself, I don’t think she would have wanted you to give up. She would have wanted you to keep going in spite of her death because that’s what she loved about you- your strength and your resilience when it comes to saving the people you care about.”
“God, you sound just like her,” he comments with a doleful laugh before shaking his head and pulling his hand away. “Believe me, I did everything I could. But no matter what we do, there’s no escaping the apocalypse.”
“So that’s it? There’s nothing we can do?” Five retorts in disbelief. This was all a complete waste of his time. He’s nowhere near close to preventing the Cleanse, and you’re still not somewhere safe away from the impending apocalypse.
“You can enjoy the time you have left with your y/n,” the lookalike instructs firmly, the other Fives in the deli nodding along. “You got lucky, you still have your wife, so why don’t you do us all a favor and take her somewhere nice?”
“I’m not giving up on this,” your husband argues before hastily rising from his seat in the booth. “There has to be a way to save the world, and I won’t stop until I figure it out myself.”
You watch him stalk out of the deli with purpose as he slams the door open and begins to formulate his next move. The room is silent other than the bell that jingles above the door, and you take this as your cue to leave.
“I should probably go after him,” you admit with a meek smile before scooting your way out of the booth. The Five from the subway rises to meet you, and he can’t help but to carefully cup your face in his hands and admire your features for just a moment. This might be the last time he’ll ever get to see you in person, and he’d like to commit every detail of you to memory from the reflection of the light in your eye to the smell of your perfume.
“If he ever gives you any trouble, you know where to find us,” he instructs you firmly before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and releasing you from his hold. Smiling faintly, you return the gesture by chastely pressing your lips to his cheek before rushing off after your husband.
Who would have guessed that in every timeline, in every possible version of himself to exist, Five’s love for you knows no bounds.
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tender-rosiey · 5 months ago
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hello, love! i hope you're doing great! i love reading your works and thank you so much for writing such beautiful pieces 🫶🏻
soooo... i was thinking of making a request! i'm not sure if you've written about this or not and please feel free to ignore it if you're uncomfortable with writing it or if you've already written it but here's the request:
satoru with newborn twin daughters 🥹
i noticed that there are almost no twin dad gojo fics and we already know that he's a girl dad. plus, i love your writing style. hence this thought. again, thank you so much for your hard work, rose! stay hydrated and have a great day! byeeee!
twin girls (and gojo ig) — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: i cant believe it took me like 7 months to finally post this; i am so sorry 🙏 BUT i am so so happy that you like my works and srsly thank you for your sweet words. they mean the world 🥹 hope that you like this as well! have a wonderful day!! 🫶🫶
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the only thing worse than having one girl you can’t say no to is having two.
add to that the fact that satoru is already a softie when it comes to his daughters, and it’s a recipe for disaster—if you’re not there to intervene.
"papa, I want a dress!" one of your twins looks up at satoru with wide, sparkling eyes, her hands tugging at the hem of his shirt.
her sister quickly chimes in, her voice a little shyer but just as determined. "I-I want a dress too, papa!"
satoru crouches down to their level, hands on his knees as he looks between his two little girls, his white hair falling messily into his eyes.
“two dresses, huh?” his voice takes on a faux-serious tone. “what kind of dresses are we talking about?”
“sparkly!”
“twirly!”
“pink!”
“blue!”
their voices rise with excitement, and satoru’s grin only grows wider as he listens, nodding as though their demands are being carefully cataloged in his mind.
you can’t help but smile from the doorway, watching the scene unfold. his enthusiasm when it comes to them is both endearing and ridiculous.
"satoru," you call out, interrupting his train of thought. your arms are crossed, and a teasing smile plays on your lips. "we agreed they only need one dress each, remember?"
he turns toward you with a playful pout, the twins following his gaze.
“they’re my princesses, wifey! how can I deny them a little extra sparkle?” he says, completely unbothered by the parental negotiations you both agreed on just yesterday.
you raise an eyebrow, taking a few steps closer and placing a hand on his arm. “you’ll be sleeping on the couch if they come home with more than one each.”
satoru's expression shifts immediately, an exaggerated look of surrender plastered on his face as he straightens up, holding up his hands. "alright, alright. one dress each. promise."
later that evening, when you return home, your twin girls are twirling around in front of you in two dresses each—one sparkly, one twirly, naturally.
your gaze falls on satoru, who stands casually leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, whistling as if he’d done nothing wrong.
“satoru,” you pout, “I thought we had an agreement.”
he gives you a cheeky grin and a shrug, completely unbothered. “they were on sale,” he says as if that justifies everything.
the girls, oblivious to your exasperation, giggle and show off their new outfits, spinning around in excitement.
"mama, look! don't we look pretty?"
"yeah, mama! we look pretty, right?"
you press your lips into a thin line, but the fondness in your eyes betrays you. you sigh and ruffle their hair, "yes, very pretty, both of you."
the girls squeal in happiness and run around the house in their excitement. your husband nudges your arm gently with a teasing smile. you quirk an eyebrow before pushing him away with a chuckle.
you can never deny that you love seeing them so happy, even if it means satoru has bent the rules—again.
of course, life with your husband and your twin girls is a whirlwind. even bedtime is an adventure (read: a battle).
one night, the girls are bouncing off the walls in their matching pajamas, their giggles filling the room as they run circles around satoru, who’s sitting at the edge of the bed, utterly failing to get them under control.
"alright, time to settle down," he says, his tone light but lacking any real authority. the girls shake their heads as their dad is simply not cut out to be the strict parent in their eyes.
however, when he opens his arms, one of the girls takes the chance to climb his lap. his hand ruffles her hair, and she hums happily .
"papa, can we have three stories tonight?" the twin on his lap asks, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
her sister, not wanting to miss out, rushes over and clings to his other arm. "no! I want four stories!"
satoru sighs dramatically, glancing over at you for backup. you are sitting like the boss you are on the loveseat in the room. you look up when you feel your husband's eyes on you.
“they only get one story,” you remind him, trying not to laugh at his predicament.
satoru looks between the two girls, their wide eyes fixed on him. “alright, alright,” he finally concedes, holding up two fingers. “two stories. that’s my final offer.”
he hears you groan, and his heart breaks at disappointing you, but he can’t just say no to them. the twins cheer as if they’ve won a war, grabbing their favorite books from the bedside table.
it takes you a few moments before you smile helplessly as you watch him negotiate with them like it’s a high-stakes sorcery mission. it's not long before your daughters fall asleep. satoru's voice has always been comfort incarnate for them.
"you’re too soft," you tease as you walk over to him, pinching his nose—he yelps as quietly as he can, so you plant a soft kiss on his temple.
he leans into your touch for a moment, closing his eyes. "can’t help it," he mutters, "they’ve got your charm.”
afternoons are no less chaotic, especially at the park, where the twins drag satoru toward the swings, their little hands gripping his fingers as they bounce excitedly.
"papa, push me higher!" one demands, already settling onto the swing.
"me too! higher!" her sister echoes, scrambling onto the swing beside her.
satoru stands behind them, cracking his knuckles.
“higher, huh? I think I can manage that.” he gives the first swing a firm push, sending one of the twins soaring up, her laughter filling the air.
you sit on the third swing, smiling at the scene.
satoru looks over at you, his grin softening as his eyes meet yours. the way their laughter fills the atmosphere fills your heart, and you can tell that satoru feels the same.
at least, until he decides to push you and make you take full 360s on the swing.
“wow, mama is swinging!”
“in a circle!”
“satoru, I will kill you!!”
"waiting for that, wifey!"
dinner, as always, is an ongoing fight. tonight, the twins are in full protest mode against their vegetables.
"I don’t like broccoli," one twin pouts, pushing her plate away.
"me neither," her sister adds, crossing her arms as if this decision has been made final.
satoru, ever their ally in mischief, leans back in his chair, his expression far too relaxed. "well, I guess no one’s eating broccoli tonight," he says, clearly enjoying this little act of rebellion.
while you're proud of your girls backing each other up, you rather it not be right now. you shoot satoru a warning glance, shaking your head with a sigh. "they need to eat their veggies, satoru."
he shrugs, smirking lazily as he glances at the twins. “they’re gojo kids. I think they’ll survive without a little broccoli.”
the twins giggle, clearly siding with him. but you know how to play this game too; otherwise, you would have never been able to handle the man child beside you. “okay, fine,” you say with a sly smile. “no dessert if they don’t eat their veggies.”
the girls’ eyes go wide in horror, and they quickly turn to their father, their last hope. “papa, no! we want dessert!”
caught between you and the twins, satoru sighs dramatically, like he’s being asked to sacrifice everything.
“alright, alright, princesses,” he concedes, hands raised in defeat. “but you’ve gotta eat the broccoli if you want dessert. we gotta listen to mama.”
the twins reluctantly pick at their plates, eyeing the broccoli with disdain, but determined to make it to dessert.
you exchange a triumphant smile with satoru, who just rolls his eyes playfully.
and in the quieter moments, when the twins are asleep, and it’s just the two of you, he wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I don’t know how you do it,” he murmurs softly. “keeping us all in line.”
you smile, leaning into his touch, “someone’s gotta make sure we don’t end up with a house full of sparkly dresses.”
satoru laughs quietly, pulling you closer. “what can I say? I’m weak when it comes to you three.”
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do not copy or plagiarize
check out my buy me a coffee!
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inthemiddleofmae · 3 months ago
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morning embrace - paul mescal x reader
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summary - paul comes home after a run to see you making breakfast
word count: ~670
a/n: someone might have watched gladiator ii and fell in love all over again with paul then wrote this instead of writing their uni essay...hmm i wonder who that is!! here's something short n sweet i wrote to make up for the serious lack of paul/lucius fics :(
the london sky was rosy and cloudy; it was 7am on a thursday and the sun was still in the process of rising. you had the perfect view of the city out of your kitchen window, and every time you cooked in here, you reconfirmed in your head that you and paul made the right decision buying the flat almost 6 months ago. though the two of you hadn't lived there for long, it was already home.
the radio was on, as usual, and was playing quietly in the background. the sizzling of eggs and mushrooms on the frying pan quickly overpowered the vocals of a song you couldn't quite recognise.
the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the last remnants of the lavender incense that you burned before going to bed last night. this was the first thing paul smelt when he came through the door, with a slight slam and vibration alerting you to turn around. it was then that the smell of breakfast hit him. beads of sweat trickled down his thick, slightly quivered brows - evidence of his long run through the park.
"morning, love," you greeted him, your voice barely coming through the bustle of the kitchen.
paul, still catching his breath, offered a contented smile. his eyes, however, showcased a hunger not satiated by the run alone. you smiled, looking into his eyes before turning back to the stove to gently stir the almost ready mushrooms.
paul approached you and you could feel his eyes on the back of your head. the smile on your face, still present, grew even wider as you felt his larger, sweaty presence lurking over you, taking a deep inhale of the aroma coming from the pan.
"smells amazing," paul murmured, his nose now pressing gently into the curls of your hair. his voice felt like a gentle caress against what was now the morning quiet, with all other sounds falling into the background, leaving only the intimate space you both shared.
"i aim to please - especially hungry runners." you replied, a teasing glint in your eyes.
though his chest was already lightly touching your back, a magnetic pull seemingly drew the two of you even closer together. paul's arms encircled your waist, and you quickly turned the stove off, for you had expected to be distracted now that you were in the arms of your lover.
“thank you.” paul whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to the nape of your neck, making you all flustered and warm inside.
as the aroma of the now finished breakfast continued to fill the air, you turned around in paul's arms to face him. your eyes met first in a silent exchange, then you tilted you head up so your lips could meet - a fusion of passion, the sweet taste of morning, and the slightly salty taste of his sweat.
your soft fingers traced gentle patterns on paul's ever so damp chest as the two of you embraced each other, savoring the rare, quiet morning together. with your busy 9-to-5 job and paul’s demanding acting schedule, moments like this didn’t come often. but with paul on a short break and you having taken a few days off, you were determined to make the most of it. the kiss deepened as the pair of you smiled into it and slowly swayed to the melody in the background.
“you stink, paul.” you whisper after he hesitantly breaks the kiss, both of you bursting into a soft laughter.
“fuck off,” he says playfully, his arms still around your waist. “how about i eat the beautiful breakfast you made me first, and then we can both get in the shower?”
“well i’m not gonna say no to that.” you say as you raise one of your hands and begin admiring his bearded chin.
with one last peck, paul releases his hands from your waist and reaches above you to grab two plates. you can't help but feel content.
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frenchkisstheabyss · 4 months ago
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♡ Softer, Softest ♡
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♡ Pairing: mafia!boss!san x stripper!chubby!fem!reader
♡ Genre: smut/angst/fluff
♡ Summary: A fun night of stripping takes a turn when an encounter with a particularly unpleasant customer leaves you in tears, running to your boss seeking comfort and protection. Both things he’s more than willing to give.
♡ Word Count: 3.6k-ish
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♡ Warnings: explores themes of body insecurities, reader has her arm grabbed (nothing violent but brutal violence against the person who grabbed it), mentions of blood/injuries (not yours, babes), kissing, heavy body worship, san’s obsessed with you, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), clit sucking, nipple pinching, a lil manhandling, hair pulling, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, low key mirror sex, pet names (baby, pretty).
♡ A/N: Hello my loves, I wrote this little fic for any of my chubby darlings out there who might not know or might need reminding that their bodies are gorgeous, worth loving, and desirable. I also really love myself a hot criminal and who better than San? K, let me shut up now. Just know I love you. Your body’s amazing. Never forget that ❤️
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Midnight. Friday. The back alley of a strip club. The best in town. The strip club, not the alley. It’s a dark, starless night. The smell of fresh rain hangs in the air, the aftermath of a sudden downpour that left the ground slick with rain. Music from inside the club bleeds through the cracks of a heavy steel door. A neon red EXIT sign hangs overhead. The door creaks on its hinges as it swings open, sending the music blaring out into the night and with it comes a body. The blur of one at first, flying through the air, and then the weight of it. The heavy thud of bruised flesh and cracked bone colliding with the asphalt. 
The man on the ground is unremarkable, nothing about him worth noting except the mangled nose that gushes blood down his face, leaking into the cavernous gash that is his busted lip. He said the wrong thing to the wrong person and now he can’t speak at all, only mumble. A brushed leather Dolce and Gabbana shoe collides with his cheek. His blood splashes scarlet against the pitch black soles, a horrible crack emitting from his jaw as more pressure’s applied. Now this man? He’s remarkable. He’s muscular, defined in every way so that, even through his black dress shirt, you can read the broadness of his shoulders. His features are sharp and intense. The kind you either fall for or fall victim to. There’s no in between. He’s a handsome devil but a devil all the same. 
“You look like shit” San sighs, effortlessly kicking the man onto his back. He rolls his sleeves up, kneeling beside the man like a hunter inspecting its fallen prey. He stares down at him, emotionless, void of anything close to that thing we call remorse.  
The man heaves in a breath of air before coughing it back out. “Mmm s-s-sorry” he croaks, “I didn’t know she was anyone fucking special.” 
San grips the man’s face, grinning in a way that isn’t the least bit friendly. He squeezes tightly, forcing jagged teeth to press into the soft flesh of the man’s cheeks. “Well now you do.”
This is your boss and you, tucked away safe and warm in his office, are something special. But a part of you knew this already. You downplay it when the other girls point it out. You pretend not to notice the clear signs of favoritism but they’re there in even the smallest interaction between the two of you. Since day one San’s been your protector, your admirer. You’ve denied it a million times, convincing yourself you’re simply making more of things than what’s there. Still, after everything happened you couldn’t fathom running into the arms of anyone else. 
You were dancing like any other night—working your section and getting your tips—when some asshole grabbed you by the arm, demanding your presence in one of the private rooms. Usually you could count on security to drag him out but on weekends the club gets packed and things slip through the cracks. Sadly tonight you were one of them so, like a proper lady, you told him to kiss your ass and sent the tip of your stiletto crashing into his balls. You might be a stripper but that doesn’t mean you’re some thing that men can treat however they wish. It’s a lesson he had to learn the hard way and you were happy to teach it to him. Two shots past drunk and embarrassed by your rejection he snapped, spewing the most vile things you’ve ever heard about yourself—about your body. 
It isn’t news to you that you’re one of the bigger girls here. San says that’s what makes you special, why customers come in to blow a check on you and you alone. He’s right, your bank account says so. The customers love you, they eat up every inch of your plush body. By all means you should feel like the baddest bitch in this building, simply because you are, but in that moment his words had reduced you to nothing. A few seconds ago you were twirling around the pole like a goddess now you found yourself scurrying back to the dressing room with tears in your eyes. 
At least that’s where you intended to go. Somewhere along the way you changed course, riding the velvet lined elevator to the third floor where San’s office sits at the end of a long hallway. At the time you hadn’t considered how much this might escalate the situation because, quite honestly, you didn’t care. More than feeling hurt, you were pissed the fuck off. Your tears were of anger and, whether you felt it at the time or not, you wanted that motherfucker to pay for it. 
This place you work at. There’s more to it than what’s on the surface. It’s easy to get so distracted by the luxury and the lights and the pretty girls dancing that you miss the truth of it all. In fact, that’s the point, but you know a mafia front when you see one. You aren’t oblivious. You know what this is, who San is, and maybe that’s exactly why you were tapping at his door. A damsel in distress in black lace lingerie.
San’s heart dropped when he saw his favorite girl in tears. He stopped everything, sending his men away so he could place all of his focus on you. Resting his jacket over your shoulders, he gently cradled your cheeks, brushing the tears away to ask quite simply, “Who did it?” 
You explained everything, how that asshole grabbed you and the things he said, and San’s anger grew quietly, simmering beneath a surface of calm. He took a seat at his desk, setting you down comfortably in his lap, and pulled up the security cameras. “Tell me when you see him, okay, baby?” he instructed sweetly, his palm massaging the smoothness of your thigh.
You nodded, struggling to focus on the screen with his hand on your thigh and him calling you “baby”. San touching you wasn’t a rare occasion but it was always something light. A hand on the small of your back or fingertips grazing your arm. Never this purposeful—this intimate. You couldn’t help imagining how it might feel if he gripped a little harder, moved a little higher. You felt your heart begin to race, your temperature rising the longer you sat there in his lap.
“That’s him” you sniffled, spotting that familiar face on the screen. San studied the screen a moment before turning back to you. “I’ll take care of it” he promised, his hand riding your thigh and coming to rest at the gentle curve of your hip. “And no more crying, baby. You’re too pretty to cry.” Too pretty to cry? Oh, but you were crying, absolutely weeping, only between your thighs this time. 
San disappeared from the office, leaving you too lost in the lingering haze of his touch to even think about your insecurities, but that only lasted so long. Alone in the quiet of his office, the self doubt began to creep back in. You tried to distract yourself by exploring your surroundings—the impressive collection of vintage whiskey, the gorgeously framed art hanging from the walls—but nothing could distract you from how uncomfortable you’d become in your own skin. It didn’t help that the office was lined with mirrors, reflecting glimpses of your figure with every turn.
At last out of distractions, you turn to face the mirrored image of yourself, letting San’s jacket slip to the floor. You strike a pose, a half hearted copy of something cute you might do on stage, and watch the way the fat of your body squishes together here or there. You strike another then another then another but they’re there in every pose. Your face, your belly, your sides, your thighs. Your weight shows in all of them. Pinching your lower belly you think of how the other girls have had work done. Maybe if you got some done yourself…
“I left him out back. Clean him up before someone sees” San says, pushing through the door, his phone pressed to his ear. 
You jump a bit at his arrival, scrambling to grab the jacket, but San slips in behind you, closing his arms around your waist before you can retrieve your safety blanket. You tense at first but find yourself settling into his embrace as if it’s the most natural place for you to be. 
“So, what was that?” he asks, resting his chin on your shoulder. His breath tickles your neck as he inhales your perfume and the sweet scent of honey and jasmine fills his lungs. You smell as beautiful as you are, as beautiful as everything about you is. 
“How’d everything go?” you press, quick to change the subject. Noticing a series of tiny red scrapes on the knuckles of his right hand, you carefully take it into yours, assessing the damage. 
San shrugs it off like it’s nothing. It still stings but it’s far from the worst pain he’s ever felt. “I said I’d take care of it. It’s been taken care of.” 
You giggle at the contrast of something so menacing being spoken by someone so regal. “San, you make it sound like you killed him.” 
He leans into your neck, his lips grazing your skin on their way up to your ear. You shiver at the contact and his hold on you tightens, your bodies pressed flush against each other so that you can feel his bulge pressed into the plush of your ass. 
“Killed him? Almost” he whispers, “I answered your question so it’s only fair you answer mine, isn’t it? What were you doing? I came in and you were…” San pinches your belly, his fingertips planting adoration where there was once doubt. 
“I…uh…I was…” you stutter, searching your brain for a believable lie but you can’t find a single one.“There’s this doctor, a few of the girls have gone to him to get some work done, and I was just thinking, I don’t know, maybe...why am I even telling you this? You don’t care and anyway, it’s silly.”
“It is silly” he agrees, notes of that quiet, controlled anger you witnessed earlier resurfacing, “But you’re wrong to say that I don’t care. I care about how you feel about yourself, I care about you. You must know that.”
“I mean, I know you care about me. You care about all of the girls” you say, hesitant to accept this as a profession of anything in particular. 
San spins you around, pinning you between the warmth of his body and the cool mahogany of the desk. “I don’t care for any other woman the way I do you.” 
There it is, a profession of something very particular. He’d hoped that you’d seen it by now. He wonders if he didn’t do a good enough job of showing you. It’s been so long before you, years even, that he had feelings like this for anyone. The world he operates in doesn’t allow for soft spots. Soft spots are how you make mistakes and when mistakes are life or death you can’t afford to make them but he couldn’t help himself with you. You caught his eye the day you walked in for your audition and you’re all he’s been able to see since. You’re so delicate, so beautiful, a perfect contrast to the toughness of his life. It’s why he protects you—why he always will. 
“Your body…” he says, his palms racing up and down your curves, “It’s perfect. There’s nothing about it that needs fixing. If you let that doctor touch you I’ll break both of his hands.” San’s gaze is heavy with lust, months of longing just begging to be satisfied. It burns him up inside, sets fire to his very being, and being kissed by the flames of that need is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. 
“Is that the way you romance women? With threats of violence?” you tease, draping your arms across his shoulders.
“Sometimes but usually it’s like this” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours. His tongue parts your lips, twining around yours to deepen the kiss. His movements are careful and deliberate. The kiss intoxicatingly slow. 
San grabs you by the hips, lifting you onto the desk and you let out a little squeak of surprise as he sets you down. “You’re so fucking cute” he grins, spreading your thighs to fit perfectly between them. 
“You think so?” you say so innocently it only makes him want to ravage you more. 
Tangling his fingers in your hair, he tilts your head to look back at the mirror, “Don’t you?” 
An unexpected wetness soaks the lace of your panties at the sight of your shared reflection. Nothing has changed about your body. It’s the same one you were picking apart, the same one you were doubting, and San loves everything about it. He praises it with his hands, with his fingertips, with whispered confessions of everything your body needs to hear. 
”I watch you sometimes when you’re dancing” he says, effortlessly doing away with your bra, “I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help myself when you look the way you do. It’s like you’ve put a spell on me. My little witch.”
San captures one of your breasts, kneading the plump flesh in the palm of his hand. He pinches your bud between his fingers, tugging at it just enough to make your breath catch in your throat. 
“But I don’t have any magic” you whimper, tugging at the buttons of his shirt. They pop open one by one, revealing a body that had to be sculpted by some divine feminine deity. You push the fabric away, your fingertips delighting in the perfection of her creation. 
San’s free hand reaches between you, stroking your clit through your panties. He groans at how soaked you are, your juices leaking through the lace to coat his fingers in your juices. “You do have magic, baby” he whispers, tucking your panties to the side, “It’s right here.”
“Aah, Sannie” you moan, your hands sliding down his abs as his fingers stretch you open. 
Your body falls back, a sharp chill coursing through you as your bare back hits the desk. San sinks his fingers deeper into your core, his cock stiffening at the sight of your body moving as hypnotically as it does on the pole. Only now it’s for him and only him. This is how San likes it, how he’s always wanted it to be. Him with his fingers buried deep into the warmth of your pussy, your walls greedily clenching around them, and you spread out across his desk, your gorgeous body on full display and your lips spilling out moans meant for his ears alone. 
Kneeling between your legs he pulls your panties aside harder this time, nearly tearing the fabric as he knots it in his fist. He brings his thumb to your clit, toying with it just to see how your body twitches with every touch. “How can a girl be this perfect?” he says, nearly salivating, “Even your pussy’s gorgeous.” There’s an audible wet sound, another sweet whimper escaping your throat, as his fingers slip out of your core and his tongue takes its place.
“San, wait…” you beg, grabbing at his hair, but you’re too late. Your attempt at pacing yourself is useless. His tongue’s already filling the space between your walls, wiggling and curling against your sweet spot. His dark hair knots around your fingers, your hips raising to ride every wave his tongue sends washing over you. 
San drags his tongue up through your petal soft folds, swirling it around your clit before diving into you again. He suckles at your clit, gently at first then faster, more ravenous. His gaze flicks up to you, taking in the way your belly jiggles and your breasts bounce. He’s drunk on your juices, already addicted to the way you coat his tongue. You taste like heaven and look like it too. It takes all of the self control he has to pry his mouth free of your pussy, snatching your panties down as he does. 
Standing back up, he grips your thighs, spreading you open to watch the arousal drip from your pussy, leaving pretty little drops on his desk. Your eyes are glued to him as he unzips his pants, letting his cock fall right between your legs. The swollen tip throbs against your lower belly, leaking precum, warm and sticky, on your skin. You rock your hips, clenching around air, craving friction from that deliciously veiny cock of his. 
“You want it, baby?” San teases, tapping the head of his cock against your clit. His length slips between your folds. They’re so smooth, so slick. Toying with your pussy’s like splashing in a lake. You’re wet enough to drown in.
“I want it, Sannie, aah, fuck…” you moan, your eyes widening at the realization that his tip’s pressed to your entrance now, stretching you the faintest bit. 
“Then tell me how perfect your body is. Tell me you love it.” He pushes in an inch more, stopping to leave your hole spread wide around his cock, still needy and deprived. 
The stretch has the room spinning, a single taste of him already making you want more. “My body’s, mmph, beautiful” you manage as he gradually feeds you more of him, “I love it.”
“Don’t stop. Keep telling me. Make me believe you” San demands, thrusting into you so hard that he bottoms out. 
You cry out at the force of the thrust, your lashes fluttering away tears, “I love, aah, my body. I love my body. It’s beautiful. It’s…it’s…”
Tucking his hands behind your knees, San pushes them to your chest, snapping his hips against you hard enough that your thighs jiggle around him. All of you does. Every stroke of his cock makes you tremble and he’s hardly able to keep still himself. You’re so tightly wound around his cock that he can feel all the finer details of your walls. They’re glued to him, sucking him in every time he even thinks about pulling back. 
Through heavy lids you watch the man you’ve only ever known to be a mountain crumble to pieces all because of you. San’s muscles are slick with sweat and a glossy haze dances over his eyes. His fingers are digging into your thighs, completely devouring them. He does what he can to swallow his moans but it’s impossible when you’re making him feel like his entire soul’s being snatched from his body. 
“You feel so fucking good” he grunts, planting breathless kisses up your leg, “Come here.”
San props your ankles up on his shoulders, hooking an arm around you and sitting you up so that you’re close enough to kiss. He grinds against your sweet spot, forcing his tongue down your throat so that every moan you set free echoes between his cheeks. Gripping the back of your neck, he slams into you, harder, faster, forcing your body to give into him. He fucks you until your eyes are rolling back, your mind too blank to recall anything that happened before this moment. There’s no thought of the incident, no thought of your insecurities. High on euphoria, your body feels beautiful, every inch of it. 
“S-San…” you whine, a familiar pressure building behind your belly. Your fingers begin to tingle as they cling to his muscles, searching for any stability they can reach. 
“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he coos, not letting up on you, not even for a second.
Pulling his arm away he lets you fall back on the desk. With one hand cupping your breast and the other circling your clit, he watches you fall apart in the palms of his hands. For so long he’s had to watch you from afar, pretending that he wasn’t utterly obsessed with you, but now you’re all his. His pretty, moaning, teary eyed girl pouring your cum down his cock while you repeat his name like it’s the only word you know. He’s so singularly focused on watching you hit your high that his own takes him by surprise. 
Grabbing him by the wrist, you lock eyes, a weak smile forming on your lips. “Fill me up, Sannie” you whisper, your voice sexy even in its brokenness.
San’s body shudders and you feel a new fullness inside of you. The warmth pools deep within you at first, cascading down your walls the more he empties himself into you. “Fuck, baby” he pants, catching himself before his body doubles over. He came so hard his ears are ringing and holding onto you is all he can do not to fall. You sit up to stroke his cheek and he kisses your wrist lovingly. You stare into each other’s eyes for a minute that lasts an eternity, letting yourselves get lost in one another’s gaze. 
San breaks the trance with a kiss, holding you like one would the most precious thing they own. “Tell me, baby, how do you feel now?” 
You contemplate his question, your attention drifting back to the reflection in the mirror. It’s all there. Your face, your belly, your sides, your thighs, and San looking at you like you’re the prettiest girl in the world. You turn back to him with a smile, “Beautiful.”
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sexlapis · 1 year ago
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so how about toji and y/n go to a game together and end up on kiss cam oooooo 🎀🎀🎀
꩜ cw : short fic, fluff, kisses, basically a relationship announcement to the whole world
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toji has once again dragged you out to one of these basketball games he loves so much. you for one, do not care about basketball one bit, you think it’s boring and find yourself trying not to fall asleep when toji watches it on television.
so there you are, sitting in the crowd next toji, looking at your nails while toji drinks a cup of beer in typical sport fan fashion. it was halftime, so the crowd’s cheers and volume had died down a bit. until now.
you hear cheering and you look up, mildly uninterested but still curious as to what’s happening. you look around. and then you look at the big plasma screen.
on display is you and toji, in two love hearts, with the title “KISSCAM”.
your eyes widen. how did they even know you’d both be here? you tried so hard to keep a low profile.
when the audience seems to recognise who you both are, the screams and shouts only grew louder, pressuring you both to kiss.
you sigh and turn to toji, who’s already looking at you. he tilts his head. you looked so nervous despite being a famous actress and you clearly don’t want to do any major PDA right now, so he just leans down and pecks your cheek. you bite your lip, looking down shyly at your hands.
the crows woos a little, disappointed in the lack of making out but they move on.
you sit back, relieved that the attention is no longer on you both.
you celebrated too soon.
five minutes later, the kisscam is back on the two of you, urging you both to kiss with your lips.
“oh brother..” toji huffs, scratching the back of his head and turns to you. “y’know we can always leave.”
“nah, it’s fine.” clearing your throat, patience wearing thin. “it’s just a little kiss. not a big deal.”
you sit up and kiss his cheek and toji looks a little shocked, but tries to shrug it off by smugly nodding and smirking. you roll your eyes and smack his shoulder. the crowd cheers and the camera goes onto another couples to terrorise, but everyone still wants you both to kiss.
then, near the end of the half time, the kisscam is on you and toji again. but now your patience is all dried up, these people are annoying you, the crowd is too loud and this game is boring.
toji starts shaking his head at the camera. “yeah, i don’t think-”
“c’mere.” you demand firmly, grabbing toji by the back of his head and pressing you lips onto his. toji almost jolts but then just accepts your unexpected advance.
the crowd screaming and cheering louder this time, finally satisfied with the blatant display of affection.
you pull away, out of breath and annoyed.
“you happy now?!” you ask, shouting to the camera. “gosh.”
toji sits with beer in hand, flabbergasted, face pink and hair askew. he smiles, nodding happily and looking around raising his eyebrows, making sure everybody saw what just transpired and sits back in his seat, waiting for the game to start again.
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a/n: 🥸
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obsessedwhyyes · 2 months ago
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The Fool
Summary: As you lie, nestled into Astarion’s chest, he considers his feelings - his damned, complicated feelings.
Alternatively, Astarion experiences all 5 stages of grief in 10 minutes.
Rating: T Word Count: 816 Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Content: First person Astarion POV, fluff and angst, rather a lot of angst actually, feelings denial, Astarion needs a hug, cuddling, Astarion's simple plan beginning to fall apart.
Want to hear this fic read aloud with absolutely pristine acting by the incredibly talented CurlyChops on AO3? Have a listen here!
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A/N: You know when you’re lying in bed, unable to sleep until you write down that idea that’s managed to worm its way into your brain at unspeakable hours of the night? Here we have a slightly angsty drabble that decided to do just that! After the reception to the Gale first person POV, I wanted to try my hand at an Astarion POV. Hopefully you enjoy!
A fool lies in this tent.
Look at you, nestled into my side, sleeping peacefully against my chest as if a vampire’s embrace is the safest place in all the realms. Utterly ridiculous. So trusting, so… pliant. All according to plan, really. I set the trap - a few choice words here, a few lingering touches there - and you walked right into it. Just like I knew you would.
Just like all the others do.
Well, not quite like all the others. You actually believe there's something redeemable in me, don't you? How deliciously naïve.
Do you even realise what you've fallen for? What I am? A monster, a liar, a parasite. Oh, my dear, the fool you are.
Though I suppose your particular brand of foolishness has its… uses. Your blind faith in my redemption is almost charming.
No. Not charming. It’s pathetic. Pathetically predictable. It can’t be charming. Because, if it is, I’m no better than the fool I mock.
You shift slightly in your sleep, and I resist the urge to recoil. This charade - this playing at romance, at desire - it shouldn’t affect me so. I’m above this. I’ve spent centuries perfecting the art of manipulation, of taking what I need. It was supposed to be easy: charm you, bed you, and secure my safety. A means to an end. But as I lay here, with your warmth pressed against me, my chest begins to tighten. Not in fear or hunger, but in something… complicated.
Anger begins to burn at the back of my throat. Good. Anger is familiar. It’s safer, easier to control.
This is your fault, you know. No, worse - it’s mine. My fault that I have been reduced to this - a creature desperate enough to sell the only scraps of autonomy I have left. You think this closeness is love, don’t you? But it’s not. It’s survival. It has always been survival.
But then again… 
You’re not like the others at all, are you? Those who took without asking, without care. Your touch is… gentle. Always so damnably gentle. You’ve never grabbed, never demanded, never treated me like a thing to be used. With you, it hasn’t all been… bad. No, that’s not right - it’s been tolerable. Almost pleasant at times, really. Your touch doesn’t make my skin crawl; your voice doesn’t grate on my nerves. I tell myself it’s because you’re useful. That’s all this is. 
That’s all it can ever be.
If I were to tell you the truth, what would you do? If I were to push you away, would you stay? If I were to let you in, would you hurt me? These questions gnaw at me, demanding answers I don't have. 
Answers I don't want.
Even now, as you sleep, your fingers rest light as feathers on my chest. It’s maddening. Infuriating. How dare you? How dare you make this difficult? This was supposed to be simple. You were supposed to be simple. 
I could kill you right now, you know. One quick movement, and all these feelings would disappear with you. Never again would you look at me like I'm something precious, something worth saving, like I’m–
“... Astarion,” you mumble drearily in your sleep.
Hells.
I should leave. I should push you away, remind you that I am not something to hold on to.
But I don’t move. 
Instead, I stay. Because the truth, the awful, unbearable truth, is that I don’t want to lose this. The selfish man I am.
A sigh escapes me. 
It’s exhausting. I’m exhausted. 
Gods, what an absolute mess you’ve made of my carefully laid plans. I find myself watching you sleep, counting your breaths, fighting the urge to brush that strand of hair from your face.
When did this happen? When did I start to care whether you lived or died beyond your usefulness to me?
I hate this. I hate that you’ve made me feel anything at all, but more than that, I hate myself for not hating it more. The way you defend me, the way you’ve never once looked at me with disgust or fear… it’s terrifying.
You’re terrifying.
Yet I can't bear to give it away.
Your fingers curl into my shirt in your sleep, and I find myself pulling you closer despite every screaming instinct to push you away. Protecting you, as if I have any right to do so. As if I deserve the way you lean into my touch, trust in my words, believe in my capacity for - dare I say it - goodness. As if I deserve any of this.
The moonlight filtering through the tent catches on your sleeping face, and something inside me breaks. Or perhaps it's finally mending. I'm not sure I know the difference anymore.
A bitter laugh escapes my lips, so soft I’m certain it won’t wake you. How poetic. How utterly absurd.
You, the fool, who dared to fall for me. 
And I, the greater fool for letting you.
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Masterlist can be found here!
No Pressure Tags: @roguishcat, @davenswitcher, @silverfangmarks, @sparrowbard, @chonkercatto, @stokzr , @trafalgarussy , @asterordinary , @bite-me-tonight , @transparentkittenheart , @bg3-fanfic-reblogs
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myclovernew · 1 month ago
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hate you, love you [lee myung-gi]
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⟢ pairing: myung-gi x fem!reader (basically replacing junhee as player 222 sorry jo yuri my queen)
⟢ fluff but a little steamy near the end...
⟢ word count: 4k
⟢ a/n: hai everyone this is my first ever fic here on tumblr and i haven't written anything in over four years so i apologize if the writing is terrible LOL squid game and myung-gi brainrot had me down BAD
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the annoyingly cheerful music blaring at what felt like 7 in the morning woke me up. the last thing i could remember before falling asleep was getting into a white semi-van driven by a man in a red hoodie whose face i couldn't quite make out. so where in the hell was i now?
blinking a couple times before rubbing one eye, i slowly slid up to the point where i could feel the cold, metal backboard of the bed i was in through the thin polyester jacket i had on. that's when i realized i was in a completely different outfit than the one i had on the night before. looking around, i noticed others slowly waking, everyone in the same outfit as mine with only a slight difference. we were all numbered, and my number was 222.
a guy who was in the bed directly in front of mine started waking up at that moment, mumbling something incoherent to himself and then letting out a huge sigh. the number on the back of his jacket was 333. only when he turned slightly to his left is when i realized; i'd recognize that side profile anywhere.
"lee my-" before i could even finish calling out his name, the speaker sent out feedback indicating the start of something unknown. everyone was awake at this point, walking towards the center pool of people.
that's when an alarm went off, and an automatic door let in a group of eerily mysterious people dressed in pink jumpsuits, their faces covered by black masks with either squares or circles painted on them in white.
"i would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you," one of the square guards started. i was watching from the foot of my bed, trying to scan the crowd to navigate that piece of shit. i can't believe that asshole is here too, i thought to myself while half paying attention to whatever the square guy is saying.
"everyone here will participate in six different games over six days." games? what are we in, grade school? "those who win all six games will receive a handsome cash prize."
now that's what i wanted to hear. when that salesman looking guy approached me a week ago, he had me play a game of ddakji, which i was a natural at. so of course i beat him on the first round. he gave me 100,000 won as a prize and a rustic brown business card with only a number on the back. i debated on calling the ominous number for days on end, but the final straw was having all 58 of my calls to that asshole myung-gi ignored. he had "borrowed" 500,000 won from me to kickstart a stock he was investing in and just never paid me back. a couple of weeks after was when i found out his dumbass had led a bunch of his stream viewers to invest in the wrong coin, causing a lot of not-so-happy, middle aged men struggling to make ends meet to go after him.
anyway, i was determined to make him pay.
a couple of people from the huge crowd started yelling out remarks, demanding for answers.
"what happened to my clothes?" "did you kidnap us?" "why are you wearing a mask?" "show your face!"
then one person started asking for their phone, insisting that they had to check the crypto market.
"player 333, lee myung-gi," the square guard had declared. my head immediately snapped up, eyes glued to the screen that had just turned on. a video of myung-gi started playing and it was him being embarrassingly bad at the same game of ddakji i had played with the salesman. i couldn't help but laugh to myself as hundreds of people watched him get slapped, how humiliating.
"current debt levels, 1.8 billion won." oh you had to be joking.
that made the measly 500,000 won he owed me look like nothing. no wonder he was ignoring my calls, the loser had absolutely no means of paying me back, let alone getting rid of his own debt.
i lost sight of myung-gi when the guards had us line up and sign what looked like a consent form to play the games. it seemed a bit excessive, but i guess they had to keep it all professional. we then had our photos taken before being led up multiple flights of pink, maze-like stairs.
all at once, three giant doors opened up to a large, sand-filled area. the guards instructed us to go in and stand behind the red line drawn on the ground. at the very end of the field was an enlarged cartoonish doll. what could we possibly be doing here?
i looked around for myung-gi again, hoping to catch him by surprise when he saw my face afters months of ignoring me.
"the first game is red light, green light," a woman's voice iterated through the speakers. red light, green light? i hadn't played that since i was a kid. "cross the finish line before the five minutes are up. if you do, you pass."
this honestly felt like a joke. why were we getting paid to play children's games?
"everyone!" i squinted my eyes to see a middle-aged man, his number being 456, run to the middle of the crowd. "everyone, pay attention!" he was waving his arms like a mad man to try and get everyone to listen to him.
"this is not just a game!" what?
"if you lose, you die!" there's no way that was true. did he mean get eliminated? they wouldn't really kill us, would they? i looked around to watch everyone else's expressions. some started visibly shaking, others shaking their heads in pure disbelief.
at that moment, the robotic doll turned around and put her hand up to her eyes.
"let the game begin."
the first "red light, green light" was said and everyone began to move. as soon as the doll stopped to look around, i stayed as still as possible. the man from earlier was still yelling at everyone to freeze, and something in me started to believe in what he was saying about the game. as i froze in place, i scanned the people around me. 239, 009, 176, 028, and 333. found you.
the next "red light, green light" played and i ran towards myung-gi. he might've been a crypto bro who practically lived at the pc cafe, but damn he was a fast runner. the next couple of "red light, green light's" went off and i was just about a feet behind him now. that's when a loud "bang" echoed throughout the hall. a gun shot. more gun shots sounded, followed by ear-piercing screams. stay still, stay still, i thought to myself.
then it went silent. everyone who was still alive was frozen in their places, not even moving when the doll said "red light, green light." my eyes focused on myung-gi. he was breathing so heavily i could hear him.
"red light, green light." the man from earlier, player 456, was the only one to move as he ran past all of us. "red light, green light." he moved a bit further, with his back facing us.
"the doll detects motion," he yelled out as he had one hand behind his back, moving it around to prove what he was saying was true. so as long as the doll couldn't physically see me moving, i would be fine.
"we're running out of time. we have to move!" shit.
"red light, green light." everyone moved then, finding someone bigger than them to hide behind. i was still behind myung-gi, who i admit was shorter than most guys here, but then again so was i. we were almost by the finish line, with a little less than a minute left.
"red light, green light." we moved again in a synced matter. but just as the doll was about to turn her head, myung-gi tripped on someone's foot. he's going to die, i thought. without thinking, i put out my arm, and grasped onto the back of his jacket.
"don't. move," i whisper-yelled, my teeth gritting against each other. myung-gi didn't make a sound.
"red light, green light," i let go and he regained his balance, the two of us crossing the finish line. i bent over, my hands resting on my knees as i tried to breathe normally again.
"y/n?" myung-gi questioned. i looked back up to him, scanning his face. as much as he was confused as to why i was here, he also looked relieved to see a familiar face.
"aren't you going to thank me?" i retorted. i did just save his life.
"oh, yeah," he said, his hand reaching the back of his head, "thank you. seriously." i sighed and gave him a slight nod. frankly, i was too exhausted and too desperate to get out of this place to even demand for my money back from him right now. he opened his mouth again, like he had something to say, but got quickly distracted by the ceiling of the arena slowly closing in. the game was over.
the guards had us all walk back into the room we woke up in. it was eerily quiet; people were scared for their lives. i just wanted to go home. i didn't even care about the money anymore. why would any of this even matter if i didn't make it out alive?
everyone made it back inside as the guards followed behind the last couple of players, stopping in front of the door they first walked out of. some of the players ran down to the middle of the floor and started kneeling to the ground, rubbing their hands profusely, begging to be saved.
"we are not trying to hurt you. we are only presenting you with an opportunity," the square guard declared.
"clause three of the consent form!" i turned around to look at the player that yelled this out. it was the same man that was helping everyone in the last game, player 456. "the games may be terminated upon a majority vote. correct?"
oh thank god. we actually had a chance at getting out of here before they had us all killed.
that's when the room went dim, and a golden piggy bank was slowly let down from the ceiling. even i was mesmerized, my eyes glued to the stacks of money falling into it. the guard then explained there was a sum of 9.1 billion won in the bank, and if we all wanted to leave now, it would be split by all current players. murmurs erupted, some people wanting to stay and play more games for the sum to rise, while others still wanted to leave.
"now, let's begin the vote."
the guards started calling out player numbers, starting from the last number, 456. the first vote was an X. each player received a tag with either an X or an O, indicating what they had voted for.
"player 333." i watched as myung-gi emerged from the crowd, and walked towards the buttons. i swear to god.
the sound of the button went off and so did a flash of blue light. he picked O.
he barely even made it through the first game without my help, yet he wanted to stay and continue playing? i scoffed to myself, he really did only care about himself.
"player 222." it was finally my turn. i walked up to the voting stand, confident in my answer. i hit the X button and received my tag. walking back to the group of other X voters, i looked over at myung-gi standing on the opposite side who was also watching me from afar. i narrowed my eyes and made a face full of utter disgust and disappointment, then looked away. in that moment, i regretted saving him at all.
the voting ended shortly, the O's winning by one point. we really had to stay and play another game. it was absurd to me, all these people being blinded by the money after seeing firsthand how one wrong move could literally get you killed.
food service happened after the voting and each person was given a meal. i walked back to my bed and opened up the metal box to find a layer of white rice, topped with an egg, sausage, and picked radish. it honestly wasn't bad at all. i was eating peacefully before myung-gi walked up, holding out his box of food and resting his arms on the foot of my bed.
"you want the radish? i know it's your favorite," i looked up at him, mid-chew of a mouthful of rice and egg. the radish was my favorite, but i was surprised he remembered that at all. without saying anything back, because i was still mad at him, i took the pieces of radish out of his box and put it in mine.
"are you mad at me?" i looked up from my food again. he could not be serious. we were making eye contact now, but the purple-ish, blue ring forming around his left eye caught my attention.
"what happened to your eye?" i asked, ignoring his initial question. i don't even know why i brought it up, i could care less about this asshole.
"don't worry about it." say less! i went back to eating my food, myung-gi still hovering, waiting for the answer to his question. i gave him a "what?" look with a shoulder shrug and seems like he took that for an answer because he turned back around and started walking away without saying another word.
i looked toward his direction ever so often after finishing up my meal. he really was a loser and didn't have anyone else here, not even someone to team up with. he sat straight up on his bed, poking at the rice with his spoon. a couple of hours passed by, and it was soon bedtime. the lights in the room dimmed and everyone was in their beds by this point. i pulled the thin cotton blanket over me and readjusted my pillow so it was leaning a bit against the bed board. i lay there on my back with my hands intertwined across my chest, closed my eyes and desperately tried to fall asleep. but it was one of those nights where your eyes were sleeping, and your body wasn't. hours passed and i was still awake. i tried turning to my side, readjusting my pillow again, but nothing worked. at a loss, i just kept my eyes open and stared at the bottom of the bed above mine.
the older gentleman to my right was snoring like there was no tomorrow, and a woman in her mid-20s to my left kept turning around every 5 minutes. even if i did manage to fall asleep, i probably would've woken up because of one or the other. that's when i heard someone nearby talking, or it was more of a loud whisper. i sat right up on my bed to figure out where the noise was coming from, only to see the source was right in front of me.
myung-gi was talking... but to himself? i slowly peeled the blanket off of myself and threw both legs over the edge of my bed. i stepped on my shoes without properly putting them on, and walked towards his bed, making sure not to make anymore noise that could wake up anyone else. i watched as myung-gi continued to blurt out sentences and random words in his sleep, but i couldn't quite make out what he was actually saying. his eyes were fully closed, but his eyebrows were at a slight furrow with sweat beading on his forehead. he looked like he was burning up. without even realizing, i reached my hand out to his forehead, hovering just an inch above it. i didn't even need to make contact with his skin to know he had a fever. i retracted my hand and bent down to my feet to fully put on my shoes before walking over to the door that led to the restroom. a guard was standing by the door and it took me a good 10 minutes for him to let me use the restroom, finally convincing him by saying it was that time of the month.
i grabbed a long piece of a paper towel, folded it, and let it run under the cold water for a bit. i walked back out the door without the guard noticing the paper towel in my hand and made it back to myung-gi, who was thankfully still asleep. i reached out my arms to place the towel on his forehead, but before i could take them back, myung-gi's hand wrapped around my left wrist. his eyes were slightly open, but i couldn't quite tell if he was actually awake or not.
"stay," he croaked, his voice coming out raspy. i stood there unsure what to do and his grasp still on my arm. "please."
well it's not like i could fall asleep anyway. i used my feet to take off my shoes and climbed into his bed, using his arm as a pillow. i cautiously turned to slightly face him, but myung-gi looked like he had already fallen back asleep. i turned back around, closed my eyes, and without even knowing it, fell asleep right then.
i felt warmer than usual as i started waking up to the same music that played when i first got here. eyes still closed, i turned over to my right side and felt even warmer. it was a nice feeling and i wanted to stay here just for a couple more minutes.
the chatter from the people around me woke me up. vision still blurry, i blinked profusely to make sure i wasn't hallucinating. i was looking straight at myung-gi, our faces almost an inch apart. his eyes were still closed and i could even hear his heartbeat; we were that close. we were also under the same blanket now, not knowing how i even got to that position considering he was hogging the thing when i first laid down.
i didn't know what to do. i didn't want to move now because then he'd wake up and i'd have to confront him. i just kept looking at his face, focusing on the bruise from yesterday, which was now a little darker in color. he didn't look like he still had a fever, but something in me wanted to check anyway. i freed my left arm from my own grip and slowly raised it up to his forehead, but before i could even check, myung-gi opened his eyes. i quickly dropped my hand and closed my eyes, pretending like i had never even woken.
fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit.
then i heard him starting to laugh, myung-gi was laughing at me. i peeked one eye open and he started to laugh even harder. now i felt myself heating up. guards please take me now, just take me now. as i was about to say something, myung-gi used the blanket to cover me entirely and pulled me in even closer.
"what the fuck are you do-" i tried to get out, but my voice got muffled by the blanket as he brought me in even closer. oh my god i thought i was going to explode.
"you hiding something under that blanket?" a voice questioned from outside. i took that as my queue to stay as silent as possible.
"no, why would i be?" myung-gi answered back.
"don't talk back to me, fucker. unless you want a matching black eye." oh, so this must've been the person that beat the shit out of myung-gi yesterday. myung-gi didn't respond this time, but i could feel his arm around me loosen as the footsteps got further away. i reached for the rim of the blanket and pulled it back down enough for my face to show. that was a bad idea, because i was just about touching his chest now.
"if you wanted a hug you could've just said so," he said sarcastically, a one-sided grin forming on his face as he looked down at me.
"in your dreams," i said, all flustered. i quickly pushed myself away before he could pull anything else and practically stumbled out of the bed. i didn't even look back as i put on my shoes and walked out to regroup with the rest of the players.
they had us get into groups of five for the second game, making it a game based on team effort. i teamed up with four older guys, one of them being player 456 from earlier. i was glad i didn't end up with myung-gi this game, because honestly i didn't know how to face him after last night. but i still found myself glancing over at him throughout the game to make sure he was still alive.
we both got through the second game, but it was still silence between us. i didn't go up to him and neither did he try and talk to me. i couldn't fall asleep that night either, but i didn't dare get out of my bed.
the next game came around quickly. i stuck with the group i had made during the previous game, and we quickly got the hang of this new game. we were placed onto a merry-go-round like platform and spun around until the music stopped. the speaker would blurt out a number and the same amount of people would need to run and find a room to stay in. if the room had more or less people than the number that was said, you would die. as a group of 5, we got through teams of 3 and 6 pretty easily. but then the speaker called out 2. i looked up as everyone paired up, and i had no one. my mind went fuzzy, everyone was running around screaming and looking for their friends. i felt like i was going to faint until i felt someone grab onto my wrist and started to drag me off the platform. i picked up on the pace and ran like my life depended on it, because it did.
we ran into a purple room and shut the door. my back was pinned to the wall as myung-gi still held onto my wrist. we were both trying to catch our breath, but then he leaned in closer. my body froze and we were only inches apart again. i was looking into his eyes, then panned down to his lips, just to trace back up to his eyes again. the door clicked shut and we were stuck in here. together.
in that moment, i felt his lips touch mine. i closed my eyes as i let myself melt into the kiss. he let go of my wrist and positioned one hand at my waist while the other creeped up the back of my neck. i could feel my shirt fleeting as his fingertips made contact with my skin ever so lightly. my hands made their way up his chest as i gripped onto his shirt and pulled him in even closer, deepening the kiss and eliciting a whiny moan from him. i wanted this to go on forever.
the door made another clicking sound, letting us know we could go back out. i loosened my grip before myung-gi could get his hand up any higher under my shirt.
"we have to," i let out, mid-kiss, "go." we both came to a stop then, realizing we had to go back out onto the platform. i quickly straightened up my shirt with my hands and reached up to myung-gi's hair which was looking all disheveled now to smooth it back out into his natural middle part.
"we're not done yet," he whispered into my ear as we walked out the door, parting ways once again.
that's when i knew i'd be getting a good night's sleep tonight.
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miumura · 8 months ago
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ᯓ VILLAIN NEVER DIES — HEESEUNG FIC ๋࣭
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SYNOPSIS Heeseung was great at his job—you knew that as one of the biggest villains. So, without a doubt, he was going to have you cornered. At a weakened state, Heeseung tried to save you, rather than killing you. Why? Because he loves you.
PAIRING hero!heeseung x villain-gn!reader
𓍼 WARNINGS profanity, violence, quite graphic? ( blood /cuts / blade ; just more detailed ), both are in visible pain
GENRE a little enemies to lovers action, forbidden love, betrayal, angst, comfort (?) — WORD COUNT 1.8K+ ( 1855 )
NOTE no joke i woke up from a nap and started writing away 😅 BUT WOOOO FIRST HERO X VILLAIN FIC 🗣️ i actually had fun writing this one 🫡 !! maybe i should write more stuff like this … thinking about it !
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“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, taking a look at your surroundings once again. You took the wrong exit out of the building, feeling yourself panic. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Placing your hand over the fresh wound on your arm, you winced, uttering a series of curses under your breath. The footsteps drew nearer, and you found yourself trapped. "Oh, is our most dangerous and scary villain stuck?" You turned to see the city's proclaimed "best" hero, Lee Heeseung.
“Fucking hell,” you whispered, but it was loud enough for Heeseung to hear, making him break into a smirk. You backed away—only to fall onto the boxes behind you, making you close your eyes due to the stinging pain.
“You’re weaker than I thought,” You hear Heeseung’s footsteps approaching you, and you flutter your eyes open, only to see him with a huge smirk while holding a blade to your throat. “This is the villain everyone in the city fears about?”
"You're quite the cocky hero, huh?" You retort, maintaining unwavering eye contact. In response, he just offers a serene smile, seemingly unruffled by the exchange.
“Not cocky, just simply telling the truth. You’re less stronger than the other villains I’ve been able to take out myself.”
Now that pissed you off. Just as you were about to grab his arm, he pushed you down again, making you wince one more time. The pain from you colliding with the wall during the chase was coming back to you again.
You glanced at him, breathing heavily after your rough collision with the boxes behind you. The unmistakable sting of glass shards embedded in your skin added to your discomfort, each movement sending sharp jolts of pain through your body. “What makes me so different from the other villains?” you demanded, locking eyes with Heeseung as he stood over you.
Seizing the moment, you grabbed onto his arm with all the strength you could muster, pulling the blade he wielded closer to your shoulder. The sharp point of the weapon had already pierced your skin, drawing a thin line of blood. You pressed his hand down harder, feeling the cold steel bite deeper. Despite your effort to provoke him, Heeseung resisted, his grip tightening as he fought to stop you.
"Stop this," Heeseung said, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. His eyes searched yours, looking for something beyond the rage and defiance.
“I think we both know the answer to that, don’t we?” you said, pushing the blade even deeper into your shoulder. The pain was excruciating, but you refused to drop this act. “You love me.”
“Shut up,” Heeseung snapped, his voice filled with a mix of anger and desperation.
But you could see the truth in his eyes. Despite the pain and the blood, you pressed on, your voice trembling. “Admit it, Heeseung. You can’t stand the thought of losing me.”
“Stop it,” he snarled, trying to pull the blade away, but you held firm, forcing him to face the reality he was denying. “I can easily take you out now.”
His voice was filled with frustration, but also filled with conflict. You clearly knew he was faltering, he just didn’t want to admit it as the supposed hero he was.
"Then why don't you?" you shot back, your voice steady despite the searing pain. "You already have me here, clearly at a weak point."
Heeseung's grip on the blade tightened momentarily, his knuckles white. But instead of pressing forward, he hesitated, his eyes searching yours.
"Because," he finally said, his voice low and filled with emotion, "I can't bring myself to do it. No matter how much I try, I can't see you as just a villain. You're more than that to me."
"You're weak," you taunted, though your words lacked the usual venom. You needed to understand his hesitance, to push him to reveal the truth.
"The most wanted villain is in your hands, and yet you can’t take them out because of your feelings?" You scoffed, incredulous at how he continued to play the hero. "I didn’t know you were such a softie."
"Call me a softie then," Heeseung replied, his voice steady but filled with earnestness. "Throw all the insults you want at me—just remove the blade, please. I beg of you."
You hesitated, your grip on the blade faltering. His plea caught you off guard, the raw emotion in his eyes breaking through your defenses. For a moment, the lines between hero and villain blurred, leaving just two people caught in a complex web of emotions.
"Why should I?" you challenged, trying to regain control of the situation. "Why should I trust you?"
"Because this isn't who you are," Heeseung said softly, his eyes searching for yours. "You’re not just a villain. I see the conflict in you, the struggle. You don’t want to hurt people. And deep down, I think you don’t want to hurt me."
“Yeah right,” you said with a shaky breath, you slowly released the blade, the weight of it falling from your hand. The pain in your shoulder was still there, but the intensity of the moment overshadowed it. “As if you can change me.”
Heeseung immediately tended to your wound, tearing another strip from his clothing to staunch the bleeding. His touch was tender, careful not to cause you more pain. "Thank you," he murmured, relief evident in his voice.
"You keep letting me off easy. I know you’re a better hero than this," you said, your voice edged with frustration and disbelief.
Heeseung sighed, his expression conflicted. "Maybe I’m not the hero you think I am," he admitted, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions. "Maybe it’s my tendency of wanting to save all kinds of people. Good or not."
You stared at him, caught off guard by his words. "What are you saying, Heeseung? That you think I can be saved?"
"I know you can be," he replied, his voice firm with conviction. "I've seen the good in you, and we both know that. You can keep lying to yourself, but we both feel something for each other.”
“Shut up,” you managed to wince as he wrapped your arm, the pain from your injury mingling with the turmoil of your emotions.
Heeseung paused for a moment, his fingers gentle but steady as he continued to bandage your wound. "Deny it all you want," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "But it’s the truth. And deep down, you know it too."
You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore the warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his eyes. "Why are you doing this?" you asked, your voice strained. "Why not just kill me, end this once and for all?"
"Because I can’t," Heeseung said, his voice breaking with the weight of his emotions.
"Then you’ll fail your mission. Your main goal," you coughed out, the effort sending a jolt of pain through your shoulder. "Getting rid of me."
Heeseung’s grip tightened slightly on the bandage, his eyes hardening with resolve. "No," he said firmly, shaking his head. "My mission is to protect this city, to save lives. And that includes you."
You scoffed, "You can’t save everyone, Heeseung. Sometimes, you have to let go."
"I’m not letting go of you," he replied, his voice fierce. "Not now, not ever."
"Why?" you demanded, frustration and confusion mingling with the pain. "Why can’t you just do your job and get rid of me?"
"Because," Heeseung said, his voice softening, "you’re not just a mission to me. You’re someone I care about. And I refuse to believe that you’re beyond saving."
Your breath caught in your throat, the sincerity in his eyes almost too much to bear. "You’re risking everything for me," you whispered. "For what? A chance that I might change?"
"Yes," Heeseung said without hesitation. "I believe in that chance. I believe in you."
You shut your eyes, refusing to speak anymore. You knew if you continued, your facade would crumble, and you wouldn’t want to appear weak in front of a hero who claimed to have so much faith in you.
"You sure have some nerve to have faith in someone like me," you muttered bitterly, keeping your eyes closed.
"So what?" Heeseung replied, his voice unwavering. "Everyone deserves a chance at redemption, regardless of their past."
"A villain never dies," you retorted, your tone laced with defiance.
"What—" Heeseung started, but you cut him off before he could finish his thought. Without hesitation, you seized the blade he had discarded on the side and lunged at him, stabbing him in the side. He gasped in shock and pain, his eyes widening with betrayal as he stumbled back, clutching his wound.
For a moment, you stood frozen, watching as the reality of what you had done sank in. Heeseung’s expression was a mixture of shock, hurt, and disbelief, and each emotion felt like a dagger to your own heart.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat. But your apology fell on deaf ears as Heeseung staggered backwards, his eyes never leaving yours.
You knew you felt terrible, and you usually don’t.
You can’t.
Emotions were supposed to be reserved for the weak, for those who had the luxury of feeling. All you had left in you was hatred. And you knew Heeseung didn’t believe that though. He just had seen you like everyone else, a person with emotions and feelings.
But you can’t listen to him. You’ve already fallen so deep in your ways. You couldn’t allow yourself to believe in that possibility. You had fallen too deep into your ways, too far gone to be saved, even if he claimed otherwise.
"YN, why?" Heeseung's voice rang out behind you, filled with hurt and confusion.
"A villain never dies, Heeseung," you replied coldly, steeling yourself against the emotions threatening to surface. You reverted to the persona you had carefully crafted. “Did I just not tell you that?”
"Next time, get me with no intentions to keep me alive," you added, your voice devoid of any warmth or remorse.
"But—" Heeseung started, but you cut him off, your frustration bubbling to the surface.
"Heeseung, you’re smarter than this," you said sharply, your tone cutting through the night air like a knife. Before you could lose your resolve, you turned away, the pain of your actions heavy in your heart.
But before you could disappear into the darkness, you paused, turning back to face him one last time. "You’ve built up this fantasy, thinking we could make things work just because I’ve opened up to you a couple of times," you said, your voice tinged with bitterness. "And even if you want to change things, no one can approve of us. I’ve done too much harm, and you have to stop me from hurting your people."
You looked at him, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. "Villains and heroes are never meant to be together," you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “You know that very well.”
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💬 : too much angst lately sorry guys ive been going thru it 😣 fluff soon !!!! (maybe)
ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz
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mingi-s-dimples · 3 months ago
Text
Outage - Yunsan
KINKTOBER DAY 19, REQ. BY anon
~"Can you write a college au fic where Yunho and San are best friends living next door to the (fem)reader's apartment/ dorm. Both of them like the reader and they ended having a threesome at the guys' place (maybe she goes to their dorm during a power outage cause she's scared, you can decide the reason she's there). I'd like for the reader to be a virgin, whereas the guys are a bit more experienced. Yunho is a mean, rough dom while San is a softer, gentler dom and they work together to give the reader multiple orgasms in various positions." - I'm so sorry ml I would add all the details but it's gonna occupy all the space :<
pairing: yunho x reader x san
genre: 18+, filth, college au
summary: oops, energy's out on your floor. What a good night to go over at your besties, to finish your study session. Yeah, right.. you studied, for sure.. how to give a bj.
wc: 5.8k
warnings: college au, best friends, big dick!yunsan, reader is a virgin, finger sucking, fingering, multiple orgasms (A LOT OF THEM), like 3 orgasms by fingering and one by fucking for reader and yunsan having like two each... so lots of cummm, overstim, dacryphilia, bj, double penetration, yunho is a rougher dom than san, marking (LOOOTSSS OF ITTT), lots of eye contact, praising, pet names (sweetie, love, sweetheart, princess), unprotected, completely consensual, for sure forgot something, unedited might edit later.
Author's Note: it legitimately took me 5 days to finish this fic 🧍‍♀️ but it has 5.8k words so ig it's pretty expected 💁‍♀️. It is as detailed as I could write it, my love.. I hope you like it. Pls let me know if you did by completing the request form or by sending me an ask to my inbox! 🥰 I loved writing it, ngl... Enjoy, guys !!
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the members in any way.
The cool evening air nipped at your cheeks as you walked down the hallway of your apartment building with San and Yunho, your books and notebooks bundled tightly in your arms. Despite the demands of your classes, the three of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm this semester, balancing study sessions with countless inside jokes, late-night ramen runs, and endless laughter. Living in the same building, with you just a few doors down from their shared dorm, had only solidified the bond between you.
"So," Yunho said, glancing down at you with a teasing smile as you reached the door to their place, "how much of Professor Lee’s reading did you actually finish last night?"
You groaned, letting your head fall back dramatically. "Please don’t remind me. I got, like, halfway before I passed out.”
San chuckled, brushing his shoulder against yours. “That’s better than Yunho and me. We didn’t even crack the book open.”
Yunho put his hands up in mock defense. “Hey, I never claimed I was on top of things! Besides, I was too busy helping San fix that stupid coffee machine he broke.”
San rolled his eyes, nudging him. “You’re the one who insisted on trying to ‘hack’ it to make double shots.”
“Details, details.” Yunho gave you both an exaggerated shrug, making you laugh.
As the three of you lingered in the hallway, the faint warmth of your playful banter started to drift. There was a stack of assignments waiting to be tackled, so after a few more exchanges, you decided to head to your own dorm.
"Alright, we’ve procrastinated long enough," you sighed. "I’ll see you guys later?"
San nodded, grinning. “We’ll probably still be awake at 2 a.m. if you wanna come back and cram together.”
Yunho gave a wink. “Or if you get bored, you know where to find us.”
“Noted,” you replied with a smirk, giving them a small wave as you turned and walked down the hall to your door.
Inside, your dorm room was quiet, lit only by the faint amber glow of your desk lamp. You settled in, organizing your textbooks and notes, trying to get into the right mindset to finally tackle your assignments. An hour ticked by, then another, and you began to make progress. But just as you were reaching the last few pages of your reading, the lights suddenly flickered. Then, with a low hum, everything went dark.
You stared at the darkness for a moment, blinking in surprise. The hallway lights were out too, leaving your entire floor eerily quiet and still. You grabbed your phone and quickly typed out a message to Yunho and San:
“Hey, my power just went out… Can I come over and finish my work? I can’t see anything here.”
The reply was almost instant. Yunho’s text popped up first: “Definitely! We’ll keep the lights on for you.”
San’s text followed a second later. “Come on over. We’ll even share the snacks.”
You smiled at their texts and went on packing everything you needed. Pens, the highlighters you always used for your notes, notebooks, textbooks… everything you thought you’d need. As you went out the door and locked it, you smiled and turned on the phone flashlight and went up the stairs to their dorm.
When you arrived at their room, Yunho opened the door with a grin, his eyes sparkling as he held it wide for you to enter. Inside, the room was cozy and warmly lit, shadows casting soft outlines across their books and scattered notes. The faint scent of coffee and something sweet lingered, wrapping you in an inviting warmth that made the tension from your dark, quiet room dissipate.
You placed your things on the table and settled into a chair, and before you even had a chance to fully adjust, Yunho shifted beside you. He leaned over, feigning interest in your notes, though his attention clearly lingered on you more than your work. His arm brushed yours, his fingers lightly grazing the edge of your hand, sending a gentle warmth up your arm.
“Feels better here, doesn’t it?” he murmured, his voice soft, almost inviting you to agree.
You nodded, trying to focus on the pages in front of you, but the warmth of his presence was impossible to ignore.
“Definitely feels better than sitting alone in the dark,” you whispered, a small smile creeping onto your face.
From the other side, San watched with a relaxed smile, sliding his chair closer. He rested a hand on the back of your seat, his fingers just barely skimming your shoulder, his touch grounding and comforting.
“Good thing you have us,” San murmured, his thumb brushing softly along the curve of your shoulder. The warmth in his voice, usually playful, was softer, almost reverent. He looked at you with a gentleness that made your heart flutter, his touch a calming presence that drew you in.
The room filled with a quiet, intimate energy as you all fell into a natural silence, the rustling of paper and the faint click of a pen the only sounds. But gradually, the space between you felt like it was diminishing, your awareness of their proximity deepening with every gentle touch and sidelong glance.
Yunho’s fingers began a slow trail along the length of your arm, a feather-light touch that made your pulse race, yet somehow left you craving more. His gaze held yours, warm and open, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
“You’re too quiet now,” he teased softly. “Usually you can’t stop talking.”
The words sent a shiver through you, and you managed a soft laugh, your voice barely above a whisper. “Guess I’m… distracted.”
San’s hand moved, his fingers brushing along your shoulder as his gaze softened. He looked at you for a moment, his usual grin replaced by a serious, thoughtful expression. “Well,” he murmured, “we don’t mind sharing a little… distraction.”
Surrounded by them both, you felt the pull of their closeness, each touch deepening the quiet understanding between you. The night continued in gentle, charged stillness, their presence speaking louder than words as you sat together, enveloped in warmth, comfort, and something that felt undeniably right.
The quiet atmosphere began to thrum with anticipation, an unspoken intensity filling the air as Yunho’s gaze lingered on yours, searching. He finally took a deep breath, and his voice, usually bright and playful, softened with a serious edge.
“I think we need to tell you something,” Yunho said, his fingers still tracing light circles on your arm, sending ripples of warmth through your skin. You looked up, curiosity and apprehension mingling in your expression.
He glanced at San, who gave him a subtle nod, his eyes holding a similar warmth as he looked at you. Yunho took another breath, a little unsteady, then met your eyes again.
“We both… like you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of his words echoed in your heart. “San and I… we’ve talked about this, and we know it’s unusual, but neither of us could ignore how we feel.”
San moved closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder, his touch both reassuring and grounding. “We want you to know that we’re here for you, together… if you’d want that too.” His voice was low and steady, but you could see the hint of vulnerability in his gaze as he waited for your reaction.
Your heart raced, the reality of their words sinking in, a warmth blossoming in your chest. You found yourself nodding, a small smile breaking across your lips as you whispered, “Yes, I… I want that too.”
A flicker of mischief sparked in Yunho’s eyes as he leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss to your temple. “You should know… we’ll take good care of you.” Then he paused, noticing the slight blush on your cheeks, the way your gaze shifted shyly downward.
“Actually, there’s something you should know too…” you whispered, the words tumbling out, heart racing as you admitted, “I’m… not experienced. I haven't, uh - had sex.. before.”
Yunho’s expression softened, a gentle laugh escaping him as he reached out to cup your cheek, his touch warm and steady. “Then, we’ll take it slow,” he promised, his voice tender. He looked over to San, who nodded with a smirk and a glint in his eye. “We’ll make sure you’re… well taken care of,” Yunho murmured, the reassurance in his words filling you with a sense of warmth and trust.
Yunho’s fingers slid down, grazing your jawline, his touch electrifying as he closed the distance between you. The air felt thick, charged, as if any moment of hesitation had melted away, replaced by something deeper, more primal. His eyes, dark with intent, flickered over your face, taking in every inch of your expression, every shallow breath. He leaned closer, his gaze settling on your lips, and you felt yourself drawn toward him, as if his very presence held you captive.
Just as his lips brushed yours, San’s hands found your waist, pulling you gently back against him. His warmth enveloped you, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned down, pressing a feather-light kiss below your ear. “We’ll go at your pace,” he whispered, his voice a soft promise, yet laced with that familiar teasing edge. His lips trailed along the curve of your neck, slow and deliberate, as Yunho’s fingers found their way to your hair, tilting your face back to meet his gaze.
“Are you still nervous?” Yunho murmured, his voice rich and warm. His eyes softened with understanding, yet there was an undeniable impatience simmering beneath, a quiet hunger that made your breath catch. You shook your head, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips, and Yunho’s own smirk grew as he finally, slowly, closed the last bit of space between you.
The kiss was tender at first, a gentle exploration, but you felt the fire building with each second. Yunho’s hands, no longer hesitant, traced down your back, drawing you closer as if he couldn’t bear the distance any longer. San’s grip on your waist tightened, his mouth pressing firmer against your neck, his breath sending a thrill down your spine. He sucked dark marks all over your back and shoulders, soft whines escaping your slowly rising chest. Every inch of you was surrounded by their warmth, their presence, until all you could feel was them, grounding you, igniting you, and filling you with a new, intoxicating sense of belonging.
“We've been waiting for this… y/n. For a looong time..” San whispered in your ear from behind, tracing his fingers on your body. He looked up at Yunho and gave him an understanding nod, to which Yunho pulled back, “Yes, sweetie.. you with that little smile of yours… and face. personality of yours…”.
In an instant, San lifted you up, his arms steady and strong as he carried you over to the bed, the movement gentle but filled with a kind of care that made your heart skip a beat. He laid you down with the utmost tenderness, settling behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His hold was warm, comforting, and his fingers traced soft, delicate patterns along your arm, grounding you in this moment.
With San pressed against your back, Yunho moved to the edge of the bed, crawling forward to face you. His gaze held a softness that made you feel cherished, and as he took in every detail of your face, his smile was both gentle and captivating.
“You’re beautiful,” Yunho murmured, his voice low but full of sincerity. His fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, tucking it carefully behind your ear. “Everything about you… just perfect.”
A blush crept into your cheeks at his words, and you looked down for a moment, but Yunho tilted your chin up, bringing your gaze back to his. “Hey, don’t hide from us now,” he whispered, his thumb brushing softly along your jawline. “We want to see you… all of you.”
Behind you, San nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his breath warm as he held you closer. “Yunho’s right,” he murmured, his tone soft yet intense. “We’ve been drawn to you for so long… more than we ever let on.” His arms tightened around you, the embrace protective and reassuring, grounding you in their presence. His lips found their way again on your neck, right under your jaw, where he marked you again. He was just oh-so-thirsty for you.
Yunho leaned closer, his forehead almost resting against yours, his voice a soft murmur. “It’s always been you. The way you laugh, the way you care about people… you’re everything we could have asked for.”
The gentle pressure of their touch, the way they held you so close, filled you with a warmth that ran deeper than anything you’d known. Their affection, their sincerity—it was as if they’d been holding onto these feelings for so long, waiting for the perfect moment to share them with you.
San’s hand moved slowly, gently intertwining his fingers with yours, his breath soft against your ear as he whispered, “We’re right here, and we’re not going anywhere.”
In their embrace, you felt safe, cherished, and undeniably loved, wrapped in the warmth of their closeness and the quiet intimacy of the moment.
Yunho’s eyes met yours, a hint of mischief glinting in his gaze as he leaned down, his lips brushing just below your collarbone. His fingers grazed along your shoulders, and he let his lips linger, pressing warm, slow kisses down the curve of your neck, making his way lower. Each touch felt like a silent promise, but there was something more deliberate in the way his lips marked your skin. The heat of his breath traced down to your collarbone, and as he pressed against you, his hands held you firmly in place.
With a quiet murmur, Yunho drew back slightly, his mouth leaving a faint, warm imprint on your skin, and turned to glance at San. His smile was laced with both a challenge and a hint of possessiveness. “I’m marking her everywhere,” he said, his voice low and edged with a playful intensity. “Let’s see who makes her feel it more.”
San smirked, his fingers still intertwined with yours, while Yunho’s hand found its way to your thigh. His touch was steady, almost firm, and he pushed your legs apart, creating space between you, his gaze tracing over your form with clear appreciation. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, the words gentle against the intensity of his actions. His fingers slid along the soft skin of your thigh, a hint of roughness to his touch that made your heart race. Every glance, every touch, held a kind of reverence as if he was both admiring and claiming you all at once.
Yunho’s eyes never left yours as his lips began to trail slowly downward, warm and intentional, leaving a path of tender heat across your skin. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them just enough to make space as he leaned in, his lips pressing along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Each kiss was slow, deliberate, and every now and then he would pause, sucking gently at the delicate skin until he left a faint, possessive mark in his wake. His fingers tightened slightly around your thighs, grounding you in the sensation of his touch as he worked his way upward.
Behind you, San’s hand moved to your neck, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your jaw before he tilted your chin up, his own mouth finding its way to the curve of your throat. The warmth of his breath brushed against your skin as he pressed a gentle, lingering kiss just below your jawline. “Just let us show you,” he murmured softly, his tone filled with affection, his fingers moving to caress the sensitive skin beneath your ear.
San’s hold on your jaw made your head tilt back slightly, and you felt Yunho’s mouth on your thighs, trailing upward with unhurried intensity, marking you as he went, savoring each touch. The way they held you—San’s protective yet gentle hold from behind and Yunho’s firm, claiming presence from the front—made your heart race, filling you with an undeniable sense of being cherished, their attention leaving you breathless in the quiet warmth of their embrace.
San’s breath grew heavier behind you, and you could feel the unmistakable heat of his cock pressing firmly against your lower back, his restraint slipping with every moment. His hands moved to your waist, fingers tightening as he pulled you up, shifting you to sit fully on his lap. The sensation of him beneath you sent a warm blush to your cheeks, and you smiled, caught off guard yet undeniably drawn to the warmth and intensity of his touch.
Meanwhile, Yunho was still focused on you, his lips grazing along the sensitive skin of your thighs, leaving small marks that trailed upward, each one deliberate, each one claiming. His hands roamed softly along your legs as he pressed one last kiss to your inner thigh before he pulled back, catching sight of the subtle evidence of your own arousal against the linen beneath you. A playful smirk tugged at his lips, and he looked up, meeting your gaze with a glint of mischief.
Without breaking eye contact, Yunho’s hand moved slowly, confidently, his fingers trailing along your inner thigh before reaching that sensitive place, his touch both gentle and intentional. His fingers explored with careful precision, his eyes watching your every reaction, savoring the way you responded to each movement. San’s hands remained steady at your waist, anchoring you in place as Yunho leaned in, his gaze filled with both admiration and a playful challenge, entirely focused on you, caught in the moment they shared with you.
“You’re so wet already… I can see that you love being marked, is that right?” Yunho asked, his finger pressing against your clit, keeping eye contact with you. “Tell me, sweetie. You wanted this too, mm?” two of his fingers found it’s way in, your head falling back on San’s shoulder as you felt Yunho’s fingers curling inside you. He started to finger you, his long, slender fingers hitting spots you’d never thought would arouse you but here you were.. between the two men you’ve always dreamed of.
“Yunho.. let’s take turns, shall we?” San said from behind, your eyes widened at his words. What did he mean by.. take turns..? you asked yourself.
He smiled at San’s words. “Yeah, sure.. why not. But first, let me have my way with her..” Yunho said and curled his fingers inside you, hitting your g spot a couple of times, moans escaping your throat. “Then.. you can have your way with her and.. “ he circled your clit with his thumb, making you bite your lip, “we can both have our way with her.” San scoffed from behind, approvingly.
“Now.. let's see how much you can handle, sweetheart.” the taller one whispered and he worked both of his hands around your folds. His right hand was 2 fingers deep inside you, finger fucking you rapidly, building your orgasm, while his other hand had the thumb onto your clit, rubbing it in circles, sometimes putting pressure on it. You squirmed and squirmed in front of him and above San, until you basically couldn't take it anymore.
“Y-yunho..!” you started, but words dissipated fast.
“What, princess?” he smiled at you, your face flustered.
“I-i.. ngh.. gotta-” you moaned out the last word, head falling back once again onto San's chest.
“Use your words, pretty girl.”
“I- gotta… c-cum! Yunho, p-please…” you pleaded, eyes teary from being stretched out by his fingers.
Yunho’s smirk grew, his fingers maintaining that perfect, teasing rhythm. He watched you closely, keeping eye contact, catching each hitch in your breath, each tremble, like he was savoring every second. “There we go, princess” he murmured, his tone turning a touch more commanding. “Let it all out…” Yunho said and pressed all your sweet spots until you squirmed over his hand and came all over, creaming on his fingers.
San’s hold tightened from behind, his hands firm on your waist, pulling you slightly against him. “You think you can handle more, princess?” His voice had a rougher edge now, the soft amusement shifting to something more intense.
“Y-yes.. please..” you whispered, voice low and quiet.
“Then.. show us just how much you can take it, sweetheart.”
Yunho’s fingers pressed deeper for a moment, coaxing a soft sound from you that only seemed to encourage them. “Look at you, so eager,” he murmured, his voice velvet-smooth but with a hint of challenge. “We’re not even close to done with you, sweetheart.”
“C'mon, San.. come here. Switch with me.” the taller one said and lifted you, putting you down in his lap, right against his hard cock. He was.. way lengthier than San was but.. San was.. girthier, you'd say? Either way, you were slightly scared of how painfully pleasurable it was gonna be.
You were already out of it. Face sweaty, flustered, eyes teary and legs trembling, but they were not yet done. San's hand ran between your legs, his fingers tracing your thighs. He lubed them up on your own juices then pushed them in, his fingers girthier than Yunho's. Two fingers of his feeling like 3 of Yunho's, you felt yourself being stretched out even more than before. You were close to your high again, even faster than before as you were already aroused.
“You look so beautiful like this, my princes…” San said and sucked a mark on your thigh. Surprised, you moaned pushing your head back into Yunho's buff chest. His right hand went under your chin and slowly pulled your mouth to his, going in for a kiss. At first, it was a soft, tender one. Then, as your moans and whines grew more often and his groans revrebrating through your body, the kiss deepened and the knot in your belly started to feel tighter and tighter, until San curled his fingers into your g-spot and clit at the same time and you beautifully came onto his fingers for the 2nd time in a row.
“That's it, sweetheart…” San whispered
Yunho continued from behind, “Such a good girl..”
How Yunho called you sent a shiver down your spine. Yunho lifted you up onto his lap, sitting you straight.
“One more, sweetie? We promise it's the last one…” he said.
“H-uh? I-” you couldn't even talk, but you nodded your head in approval. The boys looked at each other, giving understanding stares. San pulled you to his chest, placing you on his thigh. You were basically sitting sideways on his lap, your legs spread out evenly. Yunho came under your left leg, in the same position San was. They both pulled your legs outwards slightly, resting on one another's thighs. (it's like they're really close to each other and she's sitting on both men's thighs, left leg over Yunho's entire leg and right one over San's).
They held you promptly and their fingers traveled over your body, Yunho’s hand resting on your waist, San's on your breasts.
“Are you ready, our princess?” San asked.
You nodded. That was it.
“Hold your legs and spread out, darling.”
Both men's fingers went for your hole, a loud moan escaping your throat as you felt both men stretching you in opposite directions. One another was softly pulling towards themselves, inserting each of them two of their fingers, as deep as possible.
They took their time, as if savoring the moment as much as you, their breaths steady and close to your ear, a soft warmth reminding you that they were fully present. Their fingers moved with an intimacy that spoke volumes, every subtle yet harsh movement letting you feel how attuned they were to every reaction, every moan, whine you made.
Their touch became more focused, the rhythm of their fingers overwhelming as you felt the tension building deep within you. San’s voice was a soft murmur by your ear, encouraging you, each word melting into the warmth of his breath, heightening every sensation. Yunho’s grip on your waist steadied you, his thumb brushing along your side in tender, grounding strokes, keeping you fully present in the moment.
And then, with a final, gentle touch, the wave overtook you, breaking over you like a rush of warmth. Your body trembled in their embrace, your breaths mingling with theirs as they held you through every second, their hands offering steady reassurance as the sensations washed over you in gentle waves.
As you came down from your high, tears formed in your eyes from the overstimulation. You came all over their hands and linen for the 3rd time, biting your lips in pleasure.
They put you down slowly on the bed, then both sat right in front of you on their knees. Their cocks were dripping continuously with precum, hard and throbbing, waiting for action.
“Goddammit… you look so pretty like this. Teary eyes.. all fucked out and flushed and we didn't even fuck you yet. Yunho, isn't she perfect like this? Imagine her after we fuck her… oh god.” San said, carresing your cheek as he wiped off some tears.
Yunho’s eyes darkened, a low, breathless chuckle escaping his lips as he took in the sight of you, utterly captivated. He ran his fingers along your trembling jawline, thumb grazing over your lips. “Perfect doesn’t even cover it,” he murmured, voice laced with a deep, possessive edge. “But I don’t think I can wait any longer to see just how beautiful you’ll look after… Come here.”
He stood, pulling you gently toward the edge of the bed, eyes never leaving yours. “Right here," he instructed, his gaze commanding, leaving no room for hesitation. "Let’s see just how pretty you can be for us.”
He raised his brow at his cock, but backed off for a second. He looked at you, and then at San.
San smirked as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with intensity as he took in the sight of you kneeling so prettily on the edge of the bed, exactly where he wanted you. One knee pressed beside your thigh, he leaned in close, the warmth of his breath brushing your skin as he lifted his hand toward your lips.
Keeping steady eye contact, he raised his brows and tilted his head slightly. “Open,” he instructed softly, his voice commanding yet gentle, coaxing you to follow his lead. As your lips parted, he slipped two fingers past them, a glint of satisfaction in his gaze. “Good girl. Now, close around them… slowly, just like that.”
His fingers rested on your tongue, and he watched, completely focused, guiding you with a calm authority. “Suck, nice and easy," he whispered, his voice darkening, "let your tongue glide over them… there you go.” His eyes flickered with approval, and he leaned in just a little closer, his thumb brushing your chin as he murmured, “Show me how well you can listen.”
As you sucked on his fingers, coating them in your own saliva, he smiled at you, satisfied with your work. He then inserted one more finger, your tongue immediately moving and slurping around. After he was more than satisfied with it, he pulled out with a slight popping sound and backed off. He patted Yunho on the chest, who has been lazily stroking his length, looking at the two of you.
“Just in time.. I was going insane back here.” Yunho got closer to you, one of his hand tangling in your hair softly. “Open up, darling. Don't make me wait,” he said and tapped your lower lip with the tip of his cock, to which you opened your mouth and slowly took in his length. The corners of your lips stung as he slowly thrusted in your mouth, hurrying you to adjust to his size.
Yunho's breathing grew heavier as he watched you, his gaze dark and focused. Each slow movement seemed to be its own silent command, urging you to take more of him. His fingers tangled further in your hair, his grip firm yet tender.
You felt your cheeks hollow slightly as you adjusted to his size, your lips stretching around him in a way that sent a heated thrill through both of you. A soft whine slipped past your lips when he pulled back slightly, leaving you wanting more.
He chuckled, a low, knowing sound. “You feel so good, princess.." he murmured, his voice thick with restraint, though his eyes told a different story. You responded with a light hum, the vibrations adding to the tension building between you both. As his pace quickened, your hands found their way to his hips, steadying yourself as he guided you closer to his peak, mouth fucking you rapidly, feeling every corner of your mouth.
With one final, harsh thrust, Yunho’s breaths became uneven, his fingers tightening in your hair as his focus blurred, surrendering to the intensity of the moment. His low, rough voice spilled out in a shuddered exhale as he came. He looked down at you and nodded, urging you to slurp everything, “swallow, sweetheart.” and you did as told.
Just as you felt Yunho’s hand leave your hair, San took his place before you. He offered a playful smile.
Slowly, you welcomed him, the slight stretch challenging yet thrilling, but you never looked away. His hand reached forward as a tear slipped from the corner of your eye, a silent promise of reassurance as he swept his thumb gently across your cheek. With each slow movement, his thumb remained there, resting on your face.
“Fuck.. you didn't lie at all, man…” his head lolled back, biting his lip, “when you said she feels good..”
San’s breaths quickened as he found a rhythm, but he kept his focus on you, reading every reaction, every subtle change in your expression. He couldn't wait anymore. He wanted to cum and that was it. His hand pushed your head on his cock, making you gag and slightly choke on it. As he did that a couple of times he came right down your throat, urging you to swallow his load. It took him a couple of moments to release everything, your eyes teary as he kept his cock down your throat until the end.
“Damn.. that was hot” Yunho said from behind, his cock hard again, heavy in his hand.
“Princess.. would you be able to endure one round of… both of us fucking you, hm?” Yunho said, both men standing in front of you, keeping eye contact. “I just can't wait for my turn, you know?” he continued.
“I-uh” you hesitated for a second, but smiled and nodded shyly, looking up at him.
“That's our girl, man… look at her. Already flushed and ravished, but still wants more? Such a good girl…” San said and pushed you on the bed, crawling under you. He held you close to his chest as he moved up slightly and rested his back against the headboard. Yunho came from behind and kneeled right behind you, his hands resting on your waist.
“Are you ready, love?” he said from behind, your eyes looking into San's, not knowing what to expect. You nodded, and San was the first one to act. He thrusted as slow as possible in your cunt, your hands gripping the headboard as he let you get accustomed to his size. A loud moan escaped your throat, words stuttering as he started to keep up on a pace. Yunho did the same after he let you get used to San and as he started to softly fuck you, your eyes teared up and drops of tears fell onto San's chest. He wiped them off, in awe of your reactions and fucked you. harshness betraying his neediness for you.
“Fuck, you're so tight…” he said and his hands drove up and down on your back, trying to soothe you.
San’s hand gently caressed your cheek as you locked eyes with him, feeling his heartbeat strong and steady beneath you. His thumb traced over your cheekbone, wiping away any lingering tears "You’re incredible," he murmured softly, voice thick with admiration.
Behind you, Yunho’s hands remained anchored on your waist, fingers pressing into you in a grounding way. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “You’re doing so well.” His tone was a blend of awe and satisfaction, his voice rough but filled with warmth that made you feel completely safe.
As they both moved with you, their rhythm became an unspoken exchange, synchronized in a way that felt almost effortless. You could feel the tension building in each of them, both of them on the edge, breaths deepening as they drew nearer to their highs. San’s grip on your thighs tightened, his knuckles grazing your skin, grounding you both as he savored every second. Yunho’s hand slipped up your back in a soothing motion, his rough exhale brushing against your shoulder, each of them close to finishing.
As they fucked you for a couple of times, you came unannounced, your aching walls tightening around their cocks. Surprised, both San and Yunho came down from their high simultaneously, their huge loads filling both of your holes to the brim. They fucked you through your orgasms and slowly came down to a stop.
Yunho slowly pulled back, exhaling a long, satisfied breath. His hand lingered on your back for a moment, his thumb tracing gentle circles, grounding both of you in the moment. He offered you a soft, tender smile, cheeks flushed and breathing deeply. San's arms wrapped tightly around you, pulling you close to his chest as he settled back.
“You did so well,” Yunho murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple, his voice low and full of pride. His fingers brushed along your cheek with a feather-light touch, his gaze filled with awe. “You’re so beautiful, love… can’t believe how lucky we are.”
San pressed his lips to the top of your head, his grip tightening around you as he whispered, “Such a good girl.” His fingers traced soothing patterns along your back. “Every bit of you is incredible, you know that?”
The two of them exchanged a quiet smile over you, their gazes warm. They both leaned in, pressing gentle kisses to your cheeks, to your forehead, each one tender, grounding, letting you know how much you were cherished.
“Let's get you washed up, alright?” San said and lifted you, carrying you to the bathroom and placing you down.
“T-thank you.. it was in-incredible.” you finally managed to form a sentence, both boys looking contently in your eyes. They smiled at your words and San gave you a hand, holding you tight while the taller one turned on the shower.
NETWORKS:
@blossomnet
@illusionnet
PERMANENT TAGLIST:
@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @woolysium @peachy-bell26 @memorabxlia @atiny1
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chantersboard · 9 months ago
Text
Lovely To Be Rained On With You
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Summary: 3K. Reader and Joel rush to find shelter from the storm
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, post-outbreak, oral f!receiving, unprotected PIV, creampie
A/N: okay I have spent so much time on here reading other Joel fics and enjoying myself so I kinda wanted to give back. but first of all I need to get three things off my chest. one, it's been a long time since I've written anything. two, this is my first writing The Last of Us. three, and probably most important as I beg for kindness, it's my first time writing smut. this has been sitting in my docs for too long so Imma just press post and walk away. enjoy! AO3
EDIT: This was a one shot that got continued! You can find it here: Lovely To Sleep With You
The weather was changing rapidly. Not long ago it had only been partly cloudy, but now, for as far as the eye could see, the sky was one massive, threatening cloud. The leaves danced on their branches as the gusting wind flowed through them; their rustling a constant melody accompanied by the quickening beat of two pairs of boots.
Tightening the grip on your rifle, you look up at the darkening sky. The weapon could protect you from a lot, but not from this. It had been four days since you left camp and it was still another day’s walk until you returned. 
There was no outrunning this storm.
A few feet ahead of you Joel Miller marches onward, his broad frame and long legs setting a rapid pace you struggle to keep up with. The pack on your back is overfilled and heavy with recently looted goods. It causes your steps to be slow, more cautious and measured. 
You take a deep breath, “Joel…?” you begin. You’re both thinking it. Someone has to say it out loud. “It’s gonna pour in any minute.”
His graying curls dance along with the leaves in the wind. He steps over a fallen tree then turns and offers his hand to help you over. You graciously accept it, sliding your fingers over his calloused hand. The weight of the bag digs into your shoulders as you step over. Had it not been for the heavy sack you would have been closer to camp by now, but those supplies are the sole reason the two of you journeyed so far away.
“I know,” he says as you join him on the other side of the log. 
“We’re too far from camp—”
“I know,” he repeats, his brows furrowing. He scouts the distance, bright eyes scanning left and right, through the trees and beyond. A bead of sweat slowly falls down his face, the unseasonable hot May weather demanding to be acknowledged.
“There was a cabin…” he trails off, lost in thought. You look ahead, only seeing trees. “D’you remember? Was it before or after all those alliums we saw?”
You think back and try to remember this area from a few days ago but a lot had happened since: Joel injured his shoulder wrestling with a jammed door; you found and promptly devoured a can of ravioli; there were two separate attacks with solitary infected; finding the motherlode of supplies in what looked like a doomsday prepper’s basement; oh, and then there was last night. 
Still riding the high of finding all those medical supplies and ammunition (and a bottle of bourbon), the two of you spent last evening in high spirits. You shared stories and laughed and drank. Joel hummed a tune that had you swaying your hips and smiling towards the obsidian sky. For a moment things felt so easy and normal. 
At some point that night, with only a sliver of the moon in the sky, you stumbled in the darkness and fell into Joel’s arms. You had looked up at him, your hand rested on his strong chest as you breathed in the scent of him. Your body tingled where his hands pressed into your waist. The stars twinkled above him as he smiled crookedly and whispered, “y’okay, sweetheart?” and you nearly confessed. Nearly told him how you truly felt about him. Nearly revealed you knew he watched you when he thought you couldn’t see. 
Nearly kissed his gorgeous face. 
But then he dropped his hands, the magic of the moment gone, and you swallowed your feelings. You fell asleep last night wishing things were different. Wishing Joel was yours. 
A single raindrop plopping on your forehead brings you back to the present. “We saw the cabin first,” you recall. “And then the flowers.”
Joel nods, walking forward even faster than he had before. He too must have felt a raindrop. 
The two of you continue onwards, the sky teasing you with singular drops of rain as you migrant the woodsy terrain. It doesn’t take long until you see them in the distance. 
Alliums. The purple flowers, towering high on skinny stalks, sway in the wind. The bulbous plant, petals like bursting fireworks, are scattered across the field. The sight of them brings you relief. It shouldn’t be much longer until you find the cabin. 
Just as you walk past the last bunch of flowers the sky begins to open up. The rain comes softly at first. Small drops that slide off your skin and moisten your clothing. Foolishly, you believe if it continues like this you’ll be fine. But as lightning shoots across the sky and thunder shakes your body, the drops grow heavier, their frequency increasing. 
The rain continues to fall harder as you trek on. The sound of water blanketing the land drowns out everything else. Joel turns and looks behind at you, his normally bouncy hair weighted down and plastered to his face. Another clap of thunder rings as the rain soaks through you. It seeps all the layers of your clothing, through your jeans, through your socks, pooling in your boots. 
Walking is becoming more difficult as your boots sink into the mud, your clothes are soaked through and heavy and your cumbersome backpack doesn’t help. You’re about to yell ahead, tell Joel it doesn’t even matter anymore, that you’re too tired, but then you see the cabin. 
It’s a tiny little thing. The sheltered patio leads into one cozy room. To your right is a kitchenette, directly in front of you is a small living space, and further back, against the wall rests a bed. There’s a closed off area there as well, presumably a bathroom. 
Joel crosses the cabin, his hand resting on the pistol holstered to his hip, and peers into the smaller room. His posture relaxes and he gives a quick nod. The cabin is safe. 
You rest your rifle against the wall by the door and unceremoniously drop your bag. Relief spreads through your bones. You arch your back and stretch your arms upwards, pulling the muscles along your spine. You glance across the room and there it is again—Joel is watching you. His eyes travel your body and linger where your soaked top clings to your chest.
He’s lost in the sight of you. You raise your arms higher, his gaze warming your cheeks and your core, and you push your chest further out to taunt him. The wet fabric is unforgiving and you're sure he can see your hardened nipples even from across the room. 
You decide to break the silence. “You think it will last long?”
Joel snaps to attention, his eyes finding yours as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Huh? What was that?”
“The storm,” you pause to lick your lips. “Do you think it’ll last long?”
Joel sets his backpack down at the head of the bed. “Not too sure,” he looks past you out the window at the turbulent weather, “regardless, we should stay here for the night.” He opens his bag and begins to rummage through it. 
You nod as you walk over to the foot of bed. With your back facing him you sit on the edge. “In that case I’m gonna get out of these clothes.”
You wrap your fingers under the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head. You toss the clothing and it lands with a loud slap on the wooden floor. After kicking off your boots and socks you lift your hips off the bed enough to push your jeans to your thighs. You struggle to get the tight and stiff wet denim off your legs. 
You lean back on your forearms and look behind at Joel. He’s suddenly very interested in his bag. You watch as he digs around, the muscles in his arms pressing against his tee. His face is glistening wet and it highlights the slope of his nose and the curve of his jaw. He’s just as handsome as always. 
“Hey, Joel?” You bite your lip and wait for his attention. 
His hands still as he looks down at you. “Yes, sweetheart?”
The endearment makes your heart swell. You swing your dangling legs. “Can you help me out of these? They’re giving me trouble.”
He looks at the jeans halfway down your thighs. You’ve changed in front of Joel before but after last night, after spending so much time alone with him, things have gotten intimate.  You feel exposed half undressed in your mismatched undergarments, but it’s also exciting and your breath quickens under Joel’s glare. 
“Yeah, I can help,” he nearly whispers. He drops his bag on the floor, the stuff within no longer important, and rounds the bed. You lift your legs when he gets close and await his touch. 
He holds your ankles first. Gathering the material there, he attempts to pull, but the jeans barely move. So his hands climb up, over your calves, then behind your knees, and when they reach your thighs he pauses. He hooks onto the edge of the material, his thick fingers touching your bare skin, and pulls.
The jeans start to give way. As he tugs your body jostles, your breasts bouncing lightly in your worn bra, each jerk becoming more arousing. Once he’s peeled your pants off he discards them onto the floor along with your shirt. 
“There ya go,” he says as he comes between your legs and leans in. “Will you be needin’ anything else?”
He looks at you, his eyes intense and questioning. He’s so close you can feel his body heat, even with his cool wet shirt brushing against your bare torso. A flash of lightning briefly brightens the room. You swallow hard and wait for the resounding thunder. You won’t repeat last night. You won’t let this moment pass. 
“Kiss me,” you whisper. 
And suddenly Joel’s lips are pressed against yours. He kisses you hungrily, mashing himself against you, finally feeding the longing you’ve both felt for some time. You part your mouth and allow his tongue entry as you melt into him. You explore each other, your hands running along his chest as you’re rendered breathless under his kissing. Your fingers tangle in his shirt. You pull at the fabric wanting to feel his skin against yours. 
Joel breaks from the heated kiss and straightens his body. His eyes are dark and filled with lust as he yanks his shirt off. You watch him as you scoot back on the bed and fully lay down. He kicks off his boots and undoes his belt and jeans. His body is strong from years of manual labor. There’s a line of hair on his soft belly that trails under his boxers.  
“What else do you need, sweetheart?”
You can’t tell if the roaring in your ears is the sound of the rain or of your quickly beating heart. Joel waits for your answer as he unclips the gun holster from his belt and rests it on the floor. His hardening cock springs free when he drops his pants and boxers. 
He strokes himself slowly and you watch as his cock gets harder in his grasp. You rub your thighs together, desperately seeking relief for the growing ache between your legs. You unclasp your bra and cup your breasts. Joel softly grunts when you pinch your nipples between your fingers. 
The sight of him bare and beautiful leaves you breathless. He looks so handsome with his hair slicked back and glossy from the rain. The sight of his cock, hard and ready for you, sets you on fire. He licks his lips and all you can think about is those lips on you. On your mouth, on your tits, on your cunt. You have never wanted someone so badly. 
“You, Joel,” you finally say. “I need you.”
He smiles at your answer and makes his way onto the bed. He takes his time crawling up to you, planting kisses along the way. He pauses when he meets the apex of your legs. 
His fingers curl around the band of your panties and he pulls them down and off. You open your legs, inviting him in, so desperate for his touch. 
He looks up with hungry eyes. “I want to taste you,” he says as his fingers part your pussy lips, opening you even further for him. 
Joel opens his mouth and presses his tongue against your cunt. He licks up, takes his time savoring you until he passes over your sensitive bundle of nerves. The sensation has you moaning and lifting your hips to meet his mouth. 
“Oh, Joel,” you whine as he continues sucking and licking you, alternating between the flat of his tongue and the point of his tip. One of his large fingers finds the entrance to your hole and pushes inside. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me already,” he mumbles into your folds. “One of my fingers isn’t enough, is it?”
Your hands run through his hair as he inserts another finger inside you, your walls clenching around him. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them into the spot within you that has you moaning his name. 
Your pleasure grows as Joel finds his rhythm, his mouth and hand working together to bring you closer and closer to orgasm. 
“Please, Joel,” you’re begging, pleading with him. “Don’t stop! I’m so close, please don’t stop!”
So he doesn’t. His moans join your screams of pleasure until the pressure in your core finally snaps. Your back arches and your legs shake as your orgasm rips through you. Joel’s fingers continue to work through your high, prolonging your pleasure until your legs relax and your grip loosens from his hair. 
“Fuck,” you exhale as Joel crawls up, his strong body caging around you. He leans into you, the touch of his skin on yours and the weight of him soothing your body. He nestles his face into the crook of your neck as one of his hands squeezes your breast, his fingers playfully twisting your nipple. 
He’s planting kisses on you again, on your neck, along your jaw, then on your lips. You moan when you taste your own release on his tongue as he slips it between your lips. You spread your legs further underneath him, a fire burning in your core that only he can put out. His cock rests thick and hard between you. 
“I still need you,” you whisper, lifting your hips to grind yourself against the length of him. You need all of him, every pound and every inch. You need his touch, his lips, his moans. You need him around you. You need him in you. 
He grunts as you rub against him, your wet hole eager to be filled. 
“I need you too,” he whispers back as he reaches in between your bodies. He grabs himself and aligns the thick head of his cock at your entrance. 
You whimper as he slowly pushes himself inside you. Inch by inch your walls stretch to accommodate his shaft. Seeds of pleasure start to grow when he’s fully inserted into you. 
Joel stills inside you and looks into your eyes. His face is twisted in bliss. “Goddamn, your pussy is squeezing me so tight,” he rasps. He sharply exhales when you flex your cunt around him. 
You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. He begins to pump his hips then, making soft shallow thrusts until he’s gotten used to the feeling of you. He moans into your mouth as he picks up the pace, nearly pulling himself out of you entirely before plummeting back into your depths. 
His dick is intoxicating. Waves of pleasure wash over you each time he rams himself deep in you. He fills you completely, your wet hole stretching around the length of him. 
Joel begins stroking faster, his hips snapping into you at a blinding pace. Your fingers dig into his back when he rocks into the spot that makes you arch your back and moan his name. 
He smiles, satisfied with the pleasure his cock gives you. “Right there?” He asks as he continues to mercilessly drill into you, pounding your sweet spot over and over again. 
“Yea—oh my god, Joel—yes!”
He’s already pushing you towards your next orgasm and he can sense it. He repositions your bodies, folding you nearly in half as he brings your knees up. 
You scream out as the altered position lets him stroke deeper inside you. His cock hits your cervix, pain and pleasure meshing together, forcing you closer to the edge. 
“You like that, sweetheart?” Joel asks as your moans increase in volume. “Look at your pretty pussy juices making a mess… so fucking wet.”
You look down where the two of you are connected. You watch as he disappears inside you and then reappears again, shiny with your slick. The image makes your head spin. 
“I… oh fuck! I’m gonna… I’m gonna—”
“You’re gonna cum on my cock for me? Huh?” His strokes are becoming more erratic, his own orgasm approaching. “Gonna let me feel that pussy grip my dick while you cum?”
Joel’s filthy words combined with his dick destroying your cunt sends you over. You yell out as your orgasm knocks over you. Your pussy pulsates around Joel, pushing him over the edge. You milk his cock as he cums, his dick twitching inside you as his warm seed fills your hole. 
The two of you lay there a while, Joel softening inside you as his body envelopes yours. When your body has relaxed and your breathing has slowed Joel softly presses his lips to yours. He rises and slowly pulls out. You feel your combined arousal spill out of you once he’s completely out of the warmth of your cunt. You immediately miss the fullness he gave you when he rolls over to lay beside you. 
The storm continues on outside. Fat raindrops pellet the cabin and the wind rattles the windows. Staying in was a good call, the sky was already darkening with the approaching night. 
You look over to Joel. His eyes are closed, his face is soft and relaxed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so calm before.
“Y’okay, sweetheart,” you ask, mirroring Joel’s words from last night. 
Joel chuckles as he intertwines his fingers in yours. “Yeah. I am now.”
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abbyshands · 1 year ago
Note
Good nigth darling,you're okay?can we have more nerdy!abby pleaase i beg you 🙏🙏🙏(srry for my inglish)
teach me
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└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
a/n; hello, my love! i’m good, and i hope you are too! of course EEK i was going to write more for her anyway, i love a nerdy girl. also this is cut off asf I’M SORRY i’m tired, maybe i’ll do a part 2 if y’all ask <3
synopsis; you’ve never been good at science, let alone college biology. when your professor all but forced you to get a tutor, who should you end up with but your nerdy girlfriend, who has a very unique way of getting you to study?
pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader
warnings; abby uses baby/princess, use of a strap-on, cockwarming + edging (kinda), abby refers to the strap as her dick and it’s referred to as her dick/cock, choking, spanking, degradation (ish. abby’s tone is just mean), anddd i prob missed smt so lmk <3
wc; 2.2k
p.s.; ALSO this is was ib an ellie fic i saw bro idk where tf it is 😭 searching for it tho. i js remember it was nerdy ellie. it was so good BUT LIKE WHERE IS ITTT idk i’ll link it here if i find it
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
you’ve always sucked at science. biology, chemistry, whatever the hell it was, it had never been your cup of tea.
your professor had not so kindly recommended you get a tutor. otherwise, your grades would decline (more than they already were, that is). you didn't want a tutor, let alone for it to be someone you didn't know. you were already feeling awkward enough having to have someone tutor you at all—you couldn't imagine if it was by an unfamiliar.
that's where abby came in.
abby anderson was your girlfriend, and she was a nerd. like, cliche movie nerd. if you couldn't find her in her dorm, with you, or in class, she was at the library, doing homework until she couldn't anymore. she was a coffee addict with how late she was up each evening, study sessions, unnecessarily reviewing, and, again, homework.
let's just say, abby anderson would do crazy things for an a.
you didn't necessarily want to have abby as your tutor. for some reason, it was embarrassing to you. you had already felt that way when you told her you needed one at all. it would be 10x worse if she would be the one doing it.
not only that, the focus.
how the fuck were you going to focus when you have abby fucking anderson in front of you? when your mind races with memories of her fucking you from behind, or kissing down your neck, or making you the wettest you've ever been, just by being alive?
you weren't.
but abby was persistent. you had originally said no when she first asked to tutor you, but when the guy who was supposed to tutor you didn't even show for your first session, it was no longer a request.
it was a demand.
you were sitting beside abby in her dorm, working on an assignment for your biology class that was due the following day. you had taken up to ten breaks by now, and it had only been an hour and a half or so.
abby pushed her glasses up on her face as she looked over at you, eyebrow raised. you had been dozing off, elbow on the desk and chin on your palm as your eyes began to fall shut.
"hey," abby snapped her large hand in front of your face, making your eyes open again just as quickly as it had happened. "are you listening to me?"
no.
"yeah. yeah, sorry, i just, um—dna and rna. that's what we're learning now, right?" you ask confusedly, doing your best to make it seem like you know what you’re talking about.
but the look on abby's face tells you all you need to know.
"mhm, like, ten minutes ago," abby hums a bit annoyedly, and you can't help but let out a sigh. it's bad enough you have to be here at all, but letting abby down, or worse, pissing her off, was the last thing you wanted to do. “you're never going to learn if you don't put any effort in," she sighs.
“c’mon, abs,” you whined as you set your pencil aside, putting your head down on the desk, eyes on abby. the blonde set her own pen down with a small shake of the head, expression unreadable. “i can’t do this anymore,” you said dramatically. abby rolled her eyes.
“what’s wrong now?” abby asked, but it’s not like she really wanted to know the answer. you knew how seriously abby took her own schoolwork, which may be the reason she was annoyed that you didn’t. but you just weren’t like that.
“none of this makes sense. i can’t remember a thing we go over. god, i hate biology,” you complained once more, looking away from abby.
abby sighed as she put a hand on your shoulder. as much as she wanted to be annoyed, she loved you, and she knew full well that even if you were smart, biology was your worst class.
“what can i do to help, baby? flashcards, d’you want me to quiz you? what do you need?” abby asked as she moved her hand to your back, rubbing it. you shrugged.
“i dunno. i don’t think any of that stuff is going to help me, abby. my memory’s—not that good,” you lamely huffed, but it was true. your memory was best when it came down to the things you cared for. college biology was not one of them.
“hm,” abby hummed. it took a beat, a small pause. but then, abby’s perked eyebrows told you that she had just gotten an idea, and so did the way her plump lips curled into a grin.
“i think i know what’ll do the trick.”
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
that’s how you ended up on abby’s lap, her cock buried deep inside of you as she gripped you by the bottom. abby’s way of bettering your sour memory came in the form of one of the most agonizing experiences you had ever had.
“how does dna differ from rna?” abby asks you casually, as if she isn’t filling you to the brim. you feel your face getting hot, bottom lip bitten down on as you look at her nervously.
“u- uhm. d- dna has a d- double helix model, fuck,” you whine. you must be at least a little correct, because abby bucks her hips up into you, causing the silicone dildo to move inside of you. “rna’s single, a- and involved in a different process than dna.”
“attagirl,” abby praised. it’s then that she grabbed you by the ass, hard, and forced you to ride up to the top of her dick, just before she’s slamming you back down. for only a few seconds, you gain some pleasure by moving your body like that, or abby doing it for you, that is.
but then, she’s robbing it away from you, just like that.
“a- abby, please, c’mon,” you whimper. this had been going on for a third of an hour or so. abby would ask you a question from the deck of index cards she had made for you, and you would answer. simple, right?
wrong.
because here's the thing: she wouldn’t move unless you answered her, and it had to be correct. and if not?
smack.
abby's large hand comes down on your ass as if to shut you up. really, it doesn't. you let out a moan as she then grabs your ass again, not giving a care to how sore you may be.
because she's already slapped you way too many times to count.
“don't act like this isn't for your own good," she says firmly, reprimanding you. "you got that one wrong last time. and we’re not going to stop until you’ve got that whole fucking deck memorized, you got that?” she asks, signaling to the forgotten pile of index cards on the desk behind you. you whine, body too achy for abby to deny her.
“f- fine," you whine, because who the hell would you be to say no?
“good girl," abby praises as she rubs her hands over your bottom, caressing you in a loving manner, a wide difference to the way she was addressing you mere seconds before. "now, can you tell me what a neuron is?”
doing your best to not focus on the feeling inside you, you nod, and easily answer. “a- a neuron—" you huff. "is a specialized cell.”
abby moves her hands to your hips and pushed you up, so that you're around halfway down on her cock. you let out a small shudder, but it must mean you're correct. “and what’s it do?” abby then asks.
to some degree.
but you know this one. after all, it was one of the last cards you looked at in the deck. so, you respond, “transmit.”
abby moves you up more, and this time, she brings one of her hands up to cup your tit. she plays with your nipple if only for a second, causing you to let out a low moan. but just when you think she's going to keep going, of course, she doesn't.
“transmit what?” she asks firmly as her fingers caress your rib cage, and it's all you can do not to roll your eyes.
“nerve impulses," you say a bit too fast, eager to have her hands back on you. your neediness helped you on that one. "i- it’s the basic unit of the nervous system," you add, for good measure.
"that's right, princess," abby smirked, course she did. she had always had way too much fun when she was driving you crazy during sex. this was no different.
but you're pleased to find yourself rewarded, because abby allows you to ride her again. you move up and down a little quickly, scared that your girlfriend will rob you of the feeling before it's even begun. abby begins to rub your clit as she gazes at you fucking yourself on her dick, way too needy for her touch.
"eager girl," abby cooed, rubbing her index on your clit in quick circles. "so needy for my cock, aren't you?"
"yes," you huff out fast, eyes closing shut at the feeling under you.
"too bad."
abby shoves you all the way back down her dick, so that you're all the way back down at the base. it pleasures you for only a second, before the feeling vanishes, just like that.
"abby, f- fuck," you groan annoyedly, body begging for a release you know abby won't give you unless you do what she tells you to do.
and she doesn't like your words.
abby grabs you by the neck, forcing you to look at her as you roll your eyes in the brattiest manner she's ever seen from you. "look at me. look at me when i'm talking to you," and she uses that tone you know she only uses when she's not playing games, barking your full name out at the end like the word pains her tongue.
once she's got your eyes on her, she speaks once more. "if you really want this dick, and i know you do, you're gonna take what i give you like the good girl you are. that clear?"
you keep your eyes on her, scared of what will happen if you don't, face hot as you answer. "y- yes, ma'am."
"primary use of the kidneys?" abby asks, not even giving you praise for obeying her. but you're not at all surprised by that: if there was one thing about abby, she did not like your bratty side.
this time, unlike what abby's asked you before, you can't remember the answer to this. like, at all. you fumble with it for a second, digging through your head for what it could be. but you don't get a response.
"i- i don't know," you dumbly stutter, genuinely unsure of what to say. abby isn't having it, obviously, because one mlre spank is coming down onto your ass before you know it.
"f- fuck!" you whine brokenly, head rocking back, and bottom sore from each hit abby's given you. she doesn't seem to care.
"yes, you do," she all but growls at you, and you think of your real class all too quickly, like she's your professor. "we went over this. so fucking tell me," she says, and it only makes your abdomen churn more.
and fill with butterflies.
“s- something to do with b- blood pressure, right? c- controlling it? please say yes," you were begging more to yourself than to abby, not even sure where that answer came from.
“mhm, and what else?" she coos, doing what she's done a million times before: moving you halfway up her cock.
"i- i don't know, abs. can't remember," you mutter, and really, how could you by now?
it looks like abby is feeling a little generous this time, because she helps you along. "what’s it do to your body, princess? begins with an 'r',” she asked.
even when your brain begins to fog up with all of the questions in your head, and what's happening besides that, it seems to click for you when abby says the letter 'r.' “r- regulates it? th- the fluid balance?”
“mhm," abby says with a small nod of approval, even kissing your chest this time as a reward.
"there’s my smart girl.”
and it goes on like that forever, question, answer, question, answer. sometimes, you got abby's cock easily. most times, you weren't so lucky.
your eyes are drooping, body aching and face hot as you stutter out the answer to the final card in the deck. once you do, you let out a deep, long exhale, which makes abby chuckle.
"see, pretty girl? wasn't that bad, was it?" abby coos, putting her hand up to cup your cheek. obviously, you want to say no. but after all of this, it was too risky to be bratty to abby. so you shake your head.
and you hadn’t even finished yet.
"n- no, it was—fine," you lie, and abby knows you are. but she doesn't ask about it, knowing full well how much she's done to you already.
"look on the good side.”
“you'll remember better now, won't you?"
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
reblogs are very much welcomed <3
———
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oneheda · 2 months ago
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hello !! may i ask a neteyam fic wherein nete has been trying to win the reader's (s/o) affection again for days and reader just saying "hmp" or ignoring him because of something that he did that made her feel upset :-P silly && comfort pls! :3c
THE RISK. | ➶ neteyam sully
── .✦ a: ONE-SHOT
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w.c: 3.9k
pairing: neteyam x fem!na’vi!reader (aged up characters for plot purposes!)
story description: ever since olo'eyktan training cruelly took away a significant amount of time with you, neteyam has been desperately trying to win back your warmth and affection after he’s met with cold steel from your hurt. his longing for your touch and care only deepened from within as time and your silent resentment—a reflection of the quiet yearning that had you undoubtedly tethered to him—had kept you two apart.
contains: established relationship, slight angst that ends with silly fluff (lots!) <3, or otherwise known as hurt/comfort, teyam’ gifting you tons of flowers, him being obsessed with you, calling you yawne a lot, you guys’ chasing each other, falling into a river, being wet (oh.) and in love!!
warning(s): quite suggestive towards the end, but still very PG! 😏
a/n: omg this request is soooo cute and such an imaginable trope for neteyam, given that we all know if he stayed in omatikaya he’d be so busy training for olo’eyktan likeeee? i’ve read so many one-shots with the reader being mad at him before, and him making up for it, and i loved every single one. so, i’m so excited to try this one out in my writing style and mind! +while planning this i kept thinking about—what would you as his omatikayan lover be like? wouldn’t you be hesitant about falling too deep in love with him, knowing you’d miss his busy ahh sooo bad because he’s away like almost all the time? isn’t that risky? seriously, kudos to all those who take that risk IRL fr. ✊🏻
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It started with flowers. Not just one or two, but a small, growing pile of them. Each time you turned around, there’d be another tucked behind your ear, balanced on your hammock, woven into a little bracelet left near your food.
Neteyam had been relentless in his attempts to win back your affection over the past few days. It wasn’t as though you didn’t love him because you did, with every fiber of your being. But you were still upset about the argument you’d had earlier in the week. The argument arose from the widening distance between you, a gap carved by the relentless demands of his role as the future Olo’eyktan. You nodded as he explained, telling him you understood—because you truly did. Every decision he made was for the good of the clan, for a future that included you, too. But understanding didn’t soften the ache in your chest. It didn’t quiet the longing for the moments that used to be yours alone.
You didn’t want to seem selfish, didn’t want to feel like a burden, like someone relegated to the edges of his life. But how could you not yearn for him when he was the very heart of your own?
You didn’t need grand gestures or impossible promised, just to feel like you mattered, like the bond you shared wasn’t something easily pushed aside. It wasn’t too much to hope for, was it? If it was, he shouldn’t have assured you that time would always find a way to make room for the two of you.
He shouldn’t have told you he could love you without limits.
Still, you weren’t angry, just quietly hurt. So, you let him sit with the weight of your silence for a little while longer, unsure if he truly understood how deeply you longed for his presence. If he cared, he would be honest. He would decide whether he could meet you where you stood or not.
And Neteyam, true to form, was determined to make the effort.
At communal dinner, he hovered like a shadow, his golden eyes constantly flicking toward you. You pretended not to notice, focusing instead on your food, the stars overhead, and occasionally the random crack in the floor. Anywhere but his face. Neteyam, however, was not easily giving in. With a deep breath, he reached over, gently prying your hands apart from where they were clasped in your lap. His large, warm palms enveloped yours, his thumbs brushing softly against your skin. You stiffened but didn’t pull away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of melting under his touch.
“Yawne (beloved),” he whispered, voice low enough that only you could hear over the chatter of the gathering. His brows knit together in concern. “Are you still upset? I’m sorry, okay? I’ll make it right. Just give me time for a few weeks.”
But your only response was a soft huff as you turned your attention to your plate. His ears drooped slightly, and his shoulders sagged, but he didn’t give up.
Neteyam had taken to foraging during his hunting trips, returning with blooms in every color he could find. Each one seemed chosen with care, as if he had combed through Pandora’s vast forest just to find the perfect match for you. This morning, you found a particularly delicate one—a deep blue petal with flecks of gold, so soft it felt like velvet—waiting for you beside your water. Its placement wasn’t accidental; he’d laid it carefully, as though it were a gift meant to soothe whatever rift had come between you.
“Do you like it?” His voice, deep and warm, came from behind you, startling you slightly.
You turned, fingers curling instinctively around the flower. He was leaning casually against a tree, his bow slung over his shoulder and his skin dappled in the soft morning light. He looked relaxed, but his twitching ears and the slight shift in his tail gave him away.
You rolled the flower between your fingers, trying not to let your heart leap at the sight of him. “It’s pretty.” Your voice was nonchalant, almost dismissive, but your gaze lingered on him for a moment too long.
He smiled, slow and knowing, but didn’t press further. Instead, he stepped closer, his shadow falling over you. “Pretty, huh?” he murmured, his tone teasing but soft. “Just pretty? I thought it was beautiful. Like you.”
You scoffed lightly, a weak attempt to mask the heat rising in your cheeks. “Is that what you’re doing now? Comparing me to flowers?”
Neteyam tilted his head, a playful glint in his golden eyes. “Only the rarest ones.” His voice dropped just slightly, and the way he looked at you made your stomach flip.
You tried to turn your attention back to the flower, but his presence was impossible to ignore. He crouched in front of you, his movements unhurried and fluid, and his hand reached out to tilt your chin up gently.
“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “I don’t just bring these to make you smile. I bring them because I want you to know I think of you. Always. Even when I’m away.”
For once, you didn’t have a clever reply. And he smiled, small and boyish, as if your mere attention was like handing him all the stars in the sky. “You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered. “I already know.”
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That night, during the clan’s celebration, you spotted him at the edge of the gathering. The music swelled, and instead of joining the other warriors in the dance, Neteyam was there, balancing precariously on a low branch. His arms flailed dramatically, as though he were imitating a bird taking flight.
You cocked an eyebrow and took a few slow steps toward him. “Is this what future Olo’eyktan training looks like? Because if it is, we’re doomed.”
He turned sharply at the sound of your voice, pretending to wobble before hopping down with an exaggerated flourish, landing directly in front of you. His grin was wide and unapologetic.
“I’m trying to make you laugh,” he admitted shamelessly, his amber eyes bright. “I’ve missed your laugh, yawne.”
You tried to hold firm, but when he clumsily twirled and struck a ridiculous pose, your laughter broke free. He straightened, a little victorious puff to his chest.
“There it is,” he teased gently, his chest still puffed out with mock pride. “I knew it was still in there.”
Your resolve cracked, but you still rolled your eyes for good measure. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re worth it,” he said without hesitation, so sincere and immediate that it caught you off guard. He extended his hand toward you, palm up to offer you a dance but he didn’t push. He just waited, his presence steady and patient.
“I’m still mad at you, you know,” you muttered, more for yourself than for him. You didn’t move, but your fingers tightened slightly around your forearms.
“I know,” he said gently, his voice low enough that only you could hear it over the celebration. “And I’ll keep earning back every bit of you until you’re not.”
For a moment, you hesitated, your heart warring with your pride. Slowly, your arms loosened, and though you didn’t take his hand, you let it rest there between you, a quiet truce in the making.
“Said you’d earn it back, huh?” The teasing tone in your voice had a sharp edge, and you couldn’t help the way it made his eyes sparkle with mischief. He tilted his head, a playful glint in his gaze, as if trying to predict your next move. “Then prove it.”
Without another word, you turned on your heel and dashed into the back of the forest, heart pounding with the rush of adrenaline. The sounds of the celebration faded behind you, replaced by the rustling of leaves beneath your feet. You couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up from your chest as you glanced back over your shoulder. “Catch me if you can!”
His reaction was instant, his own laugh ringing out through the air as his long legs carried him quickly in pursuit. Neteyam’s voice came, warm with determination, but also with a clear, boyish excitement. “Oh, you know I will.”
You risked another glance behind you and saw him gaining, the playful smirk on his lips matching the wild spark in his eyes like a predator closing in on its prey. The challenge, the thrill. It was all there in his gaze.
You’d darted across the massive branch that spanned the glowing, bioluminescent river below. Your heart raced as you pushed yourself faster, the wind rushing past your ears, but it only made the sounds of your laughter spill out even louder.
It felt like freedom, like nothing in the world could touch you in this moment.
But just as you rounded a turn on the massive branch, his speed bested yours. Toned arms circled around your slim waist, pulling you back against him with such effortless power that it knocked the breath from your lungs. You gasped, his chest firm against your back, his body radiating warmth in the cool, humid air.
The glowing river far below shimmered with blues and greens, but the only thing you could focus on was him. Neteyam’s breath tickled your ear, unsteady from the chase but layered with soft, husky laughter that sent shivers racing down your spine.
“You’re not getting from me away that easily, yawne.” he murmured, his voice triumphant, teasing, as his arms held you close. His arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer, and you swore you could feel every inch of him pressing against you. His heat, his scent, the way his hands seemed to burn through your skin.
Neteyam's breath brushed over your ear, warm and unstead, sending a hum of heat through your veins as the hairs on the back of your neck rose. You fought to steady yourself, but it was impossible. Your knees felt weak as a warmth blossomed in the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t just from the chase anymore. It was from the way he held you, so firmly, with the way his lips lingered so close to the curve of your neck so teasingly that left you dizzy in his hold. He chuckled once again as if hinting at the promise of laughter and surprises yet to come.
Before you could retort, before you could even think, he moved; both of you toppling sideways off the branch. You barely had time to gasp as he leapt, carrying you with him into the air. The drop lasted only seconds before you plunged into the river below, the cool water swallowing you both in a burst of bubbles and bioluminescent light.
You surfaced with a gasp, your laughter echoing across the glowing expanse as you pushed the wet strands of hair from your face. “Neteyam!” you exclaimed, half scolding, half incredulous.
He emerged just beside you, grinning like a mischievous child, his braids dripping water and his golden eyes sparkling. “You looked like you needed to cool off,” he teased, his voice thick with playful arrogance.
Well, you did need to cool off the hotness in your core… but this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind.
Without hesitation, you launched a spray of cool water at him, the droplets shimmering with the river’s glow as they scattered in radiant arcs. His reaction was instant; a burst of deep, joyful laughter that echoed through the humid air, rich and unrestrained. The playful challenge sparked an electric excitement between you, drawing you both into a frenzy of splashing and dodging. The world then began to blur into the glowing water and your shared laughter, a symphony of carefree chaos where nothing else mattered but this moment.
You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this alive, this carefree.
Eventually, your laughter guys laughter faded into breathless quiet. His eyes found yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to still. He moved closer, his face only inches from yours now, his wet skin glistening faintly in the river’s glow.
You let out a little laugh, your fingers finding it’s way on his chest, not sure whether to pull away or pull him closer. "You're insufferable, you know that?"
“I’m yours,” he corrected, his voice low and serious for just a moment as he stared deeply into your eyes, drowning in them as if they were the river instead. “And I’m never letting you go.”
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Soon enough, Neteyam’s once-constant efforts seemed to slip away, fading into nothing more than fleeting memories. His presence, once a constant source of warmth, began to diminish with every passing day. The flowers he had once brought you—each one an offering of love and hope—became fewer and fewer, as if the color was draining from both the blooms and the moments you shared.
Once again, you understood and didn’t blame him, or at least told yourself. After all, your own responsibilities as a healer had grown burdensome, the increasing frequency of skirmishes and the unrelenting demand for resources leaving you with little time for anything else. Your days blurred into a haze of tending wounds and gathering herbs, each task an anchor that dragged you further from the quiet joys you once had even with yourself.
The strain of hunting weighed heavily on Neteyam too. Gone were the days when he would wander through Pandora’s vibrant forest, carefully selecting the most beautiful flowers to weave into thoughtful bouquets. Now, even the act of picking a single bloom seemed beyond his reach, a bittersweet reminder of the tenderness that had once come so effortlessly.
The communal dinners you had once savored together became strained, short-lived affairs. He would excuse himself early, his duties as the future Olo’eyktan demanding his attention, dragging him away before the last bite of food could even be tasted. He needed rest, they said, to prepare for the challenges ahead. And though you understood, the weight of his absence pressed heavier on your chest with every night he left, his absence a constant ache. The time you once had—those stolen moments of laughter, of closeness, of being seen—became rare, almost impossible to hold onto. The spaces between you grew longer, the silences more deafening.
You began to wonder if this was just how it had to be now. If love, no matter how deep, could survive when it was stretched thin by duty and distance. But fear began to creep in, insidious and unwelcome. It was twofold: the fear of losing Neteyam to the weight of his future, and the fear of losing yourself entirely to the relentless tide of duty.
It seemed that love or leisure took a backseat and only the ceaseless demands of survival drove up-front. Maybe, maybe, everything was silently nearing the end of you and him.
You missed him, so very much. But a part of you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of your pride or admit just how much you missed him. Perhaps you thought you were being unreasonable, that it shouldn’t hurt this much when he wasn’t around. So you turned away from him, convincing yourself that this distance was dignified, that it was better to seem indifferent than desperate.
Yet deep down, the fear gnawed at you. You were terrified of being too much, of clinging too tightly to the man destined to lead and maybe eventually leave you like he always did. Either due to the familiar duties or worse, death. If you moved closer, if you let yourself reach for him, you feared you wouldn’t be able to let go. And worse, you feared the day would come when you’d find yourself begging, pleading for him not to leave, not to hurt you ever again, and that would shatter you in a way you weren’t sure you could survive.
You awoke one day after he finally joined you in your hammock for the first time in many nights, and as expected, the warmth of his body pressed against yours was gone, leaving only the faintest memory, as fragile as dew kissed by the morning sun. Could it have been just a dream? The thought clawed at you. You hoped not, but the possibility felt plausible. After all, exhaustion had blurred the lines between reality and fantasy. Perhaps your sleep-deprived mind had conjured it all: the weight of his arms around you, the gentle press of his lips, the whispered words.
But just as the doubt began to settle, a soft rustle pulled your thoughts back to the present. The sound grew louder, and you turned your head to see the heart of the matter approaching your hammock once again. Neteyam.
The warrior, as if returning from a long combat, emerged from the soft morning light, his smile radiant and disarming, as if the very sight of you was the highlight of his day. In his hands, he held a woven pouch, bursting with herbs and dried flowers, their scents already filling the air between you.
“For your hammock,” he said, his voice warm and full of affection. He knelt in front of you, holding it out with both hands like an offering. “So that it smells like the forest… and not, you know.” His grin widened, boyish and unguarded, as if he couldn’t help but tease you just a little.
You blinked at him, surprised. “Did you… make this?”
“Of course,” he said proudly, a light laugh escaping his lips. “Well, okay, I asked Grandmother for help. But I picked the flowers myself. Only the best ones, paskalin (sweet berry).”
You brought the pouch to your nose, inhaling deeply. The scent was a perfect blend of calming herbs, delicate flowers, and something distinctly him—earthy, grounding, and utterly familiar.
“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. For once, you didn’t try to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “But it’s so early. How’d you find the time?”
Neteyam’s eyes softened as he looked at you, and he reached out, brushing his fingers gently against yours. “Yawne,” he began, his voice steady and full of conviction, “I will always find time for you. Even when I’m busy, even when it feels like the world is pulling us in every direction, you are the first thing on my mind. And I pray you never have to wait so long for me again.”
Before you could respond, he leaned closer, his smile deepening. “It’s always going to be me at the end of the line, no matter what. Remember that for me, please?”
And as if he knew what you had been thinking, his words hit you like a wave, sweeping away most of your doubt like it always did. Before it inevitably crept back in, of course. Yet something entirely else stirred within you as Neteyam leaned in closer. His proximity was disarming, his golden eyes holding you unexpectedly captive. His scent, warm and woodsy, wrapped around you like a second skin, and the sight of him this close—lips parted slightly, his sharp jawline catching the soft morning light—sent a shiver down your spine.
You nodded slowly, but it was more out of reflex than control. Your hands tightened around the woven pouch, clutching it as though it could tether you to reality, though your mind was already spinning. Your breath hitched, heart thundering in your chest as you couldn’t ignore how weak you felt under his gaze, knees threatening to buckle even though you were sitting.
He tilted his head, studying you with a faint smile tugging at his lips, so achingly handsome that it sent heat rushing through your cheeks.
“Yawne,” he murmured softly, his voice like a caress, “Are you alright?”
Your throat felt dry, and you cursed your inability to speak. You could feel the burn low in your core, an ache you didn’t know how to soothe, and you prayed he didn’t notice the flush creeping up your neck. But the way his eyes flickered over you—intently, as though he could read every thought you didn’t dare say aloud—made you wonder if he already knew.
“I, uh… I’m fine,” you managed to whisper, though your voice wavered, betraying you. But you summoned a smile for his grace, despite it all, “Thank you, Ma’ Teyam. For this, for everything.”
“Always welcome.” His smile grew, softer now, but laced with that teasing edge he reserved just for you. “Are you sure you’re alright?” His tone was light, but his hand reached out, fingers brushing against the side of your hip down to your thigh. The simple contact made you feel as though your whole body was alight. It was maddening how much power he held over you, how even a fleeting touch could leave you unraveling. You wanted to look away, to collect yourself, but the way he was looking at you—with that intoxicating mix of love and desire—had you rooted to the spot.
“Because,” he added, leaning in just enough for his breath to ghost across your lips, “you look like you’re about to fall apart. And, paskalin, I’m not sure if I should hold you… or let you crumble, just so I can pick up every piece.”
His words sent your mind spinning, and you realized then that you weren’t sure whether you wanted to push him away or pull him closer. All you knew was that the heat of him, the weight of his gaze, was utterly consuming, and despite yourself, you wanted to burn.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
Instantly, you demanded, “Pick me up. Bring me to your tent.”
There was no hesitation, no need for clarification. He knew exactly what you were asking, and it sent a flicker of something dangerous and thrilling through his golden eyes. His lips curved into a knowing smile, one that made your stomach flutter and your breath catch in your throat.
Without a word, Neteyam scooped you up effortlessly, his hands firm against your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The ease with which he held you made you feel small and completely at his mercy, and it only heightened the ache that had been building inside you for far too long.
“Missed me that much, huh?” he murmured, his voice a low, velvety tease as his forehead brushed against yours. The warmth of his breath danced across your skin, igniting every nerve as you struggled to keep your composure. “Almost thought you’d never ask…”
Your fingers threaded into his braids, pulling him just a little closer, your lips barely a breath apart. “Don’t make me regret this, ‘Teyam,” you whispered, though the tremor in your voice betrayed the longing you’d been trying to keep hidden.
“Regret?” He chuckled, a sound so rich and full it made your head spin. “Yawne, you’re about to remember why you never could.”
He carried you swiftly, his steps purposeful as the tension between you crackled like the air before a storm. Every glance he stole, every squeeze of his hands against you, eventually ended with a peck on your lips. And by the time he reached his tent, Neteyam set you down carefully, his eyes burning into yours with an intensity that stole your breath.
His thumb brushed along your cheek, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent chills down your spine. “Loving me might be dangerous, syulang (flower),” he said, his lips ghosting against yours, “but you’re the bravest thing I’ve ever known.”
And in that instant, you knew. You were going to fall for the risk of wanting him as long as you wake, no matter how perilous the drop.
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AHHHH thank you for reading!! once again—likes, comments and reblogs are very deeply appreciated. 💞💞
i was wondering, should i have made them kiss? but then i was like nahhhhhhhhhh. i like how the story points to how love can be shown beyond just mere physicality (even if it gets suggestive at some point). it’s cute, don’t you think??
ANYWAYSS, i hope you guys enjoyed and thank you so much @aamircoeur for the request! i’ve definitely gotten a few in the mailbox lately & i’d love for more because i’m on a looooong vacation so i would love to write while i’m free!! if you have any ideas (esp your craziest / complicated ones as long as it’s PG) send em right up! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
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scarletwinterxx · 8 days ago
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i only think of you, will we be together soon? - choi seungcheol scenario
soooo hellooo ~ this is just a quick epilogue/pt 2 of the seungcheol scenario i wrote, you can read it here. I just thought i should atleast write their first kiss🥺🥺🥺 and it's soooo cute. anyways i hope you like it🤍
for my other svt fics, check them here
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)
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It was an unusual sight—Seungcheol sleeping in on a weekend.
Usually, he'd be up early, either at the gym or getting a head start on errands. But today, he was sprawled across his bed, face buried in his pillow, the blanket barely covering his bare back. His room was dim, the only light filtering through the gap in his curtains.
When you let yourself into his apartment, calling out his name and getting no response, you knew exactly where to find him. Quietly opening the door to his bedroom, you peeked in, finding him sound asleep. His hair was a mess, his broad shoulders rising and falling with his deep breaths.
A mischievous grin spread across your face. Creeping toward the bed, you carefully climbed onto it, trying not to wake him too soon. Then, without warning, you flopped onto his back, draping yourself over him like a blanket.
"Cheol," you called softly, your voice sing-song as you poked his shoulder. "Wake up~."
He groaned into his pillow, his voice muffled but clearly displeased. "Five more minutes..."
"Nope," you chirped, wiggling a little to get comfortable on top of him. "I need you to drive me somewhere!"
He cracked one eye open, groaning again as he turned his head slightly. "Where?" His voice was raspy, thick with sleep, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing.
"The dog café!" you announced, resting your chin on his shoulder. "I’ve been wanting to go, and you promised you’d take me!"
He sighed dramatically, though there was no real annoyance behind it. "Why can’t you let me sleep in peace?"
"Because you’re Seungcheol, and you love me,"
The smile on your face growing, since that moment at the beach there's this blanket of unspoken feelings that doesn't really need to said because at the end of the day he knows you and you know him.
At that, he cracked a small smile, though his eyes were still closed. "You’re lucky I do."
He shifted beneath you, effortlessly flipping over so you were lying on his chest instead of his back. His arms lazily wrapped around you, trapping you in place.
"Cheol, you’re supposed to be getting up," you protested, though you didn’t try to move
"Mm," he hummed, pulling you closer. "Five minutes. Then we’ll go to your dog café."
"That’s what you said before!"
He chuckled, his deep laugh rumbling through his chest. "Yeah, but this time I mean it."
You sighed, knowing you weren’t going to win. But as he held you, his warmth and steady heartbeat lulling you into comfort, you figured maybe five more minutes wouldn’t hurt.
After Seungcheol finally got out of bed (which, in reality, took more than just five minutes), the two of you headed out to the dog café you’d been pestering him about all week. He still looked groggy as he drove, his hair tousled and his hoodie lazily thrown on.
"You’re lucky I like dogs," he muttered, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as you excitedly bounced in the passenger seat.
"You’re lucky you like *me*," you shot back with a grin, hugging your knees to your chest as you turned to face him.
He just shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
When you arrived, the café was bustling with happy barks and wagging tails. The moment you stepped inside, a small golden retriever puppy trotted up to you, wagging its tail so hard it looked like it might take off.
"Oh my God, Cheol, look at this baby!" you squealed, crouching down to pet the dog. The puppy immediately rolled onto its back, demanding belly rubs, which you happily obliged.
Seungcheol stood nearby, watching you with a fond expression as you giggled and cooed over the dog. "You’re worse than the dogs," he teased, crossing his arms.
"Excuse me? They’re adorable!" you retorted, looking up at him from your spot on the floor.
He crouched down beside you, scratching behind the puppy’s ears. "Yeah, they are," he admitted, his voice softer now.
You spent the next hour playing with various dogs, from energetic beagles to sleepy bulldogs, while Seungcheol alternated between joining in and watching you from a distance. At one point, a particularly bold corgi jumped into his lap, and you nearly cried laughing at the sight of big, tough Seungcheol awkwardly trying to balance the squirming dog.
"Cheol, you look so cute," you teased, snapping a picture on your phone.
He gave you a mock glare. "Delete that."
"Nope," you said, grinning mischievously.
When it was finally time to leave, you reluctantly said goodbye to the dogs, practically dragging your feet as Seungcheol led you back to the car.
"Happy now?" he asked as he opened the passenger door for you
"Very," you said, your face still lit up with joy.
As he got into the driver’s seat, he glanced over at you, shaking his head with a smile. "You’re such a kid."
"And yet, here you are," you replied, sticking your tongue out at him.
He laughed, shaking his head again. "Yeah, here I am," he said softly, as if to himself.
Then, with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the console, he added, "Let me know when you want to go again."
Your heart fluttered a little at his words, but you played it off, leaning your head back against the seat with a satisfied sigh. "You’re the best, Cheol."
He didn’t say anything, but the smile on his face as he drove you home spoke volumes.
Since he went with you to the dog cafe, it only felt right to go with him too if he wants to do something he likes. Unlucky for you, Seungcheol lives an active lifestyle.
Seungcheol chuckled as he watched you trudge behind him on the trail, your arms crossed and a dramatic pout plastered on your face.
The usually peaceful sound of nature was interrupted by the crunch of your footsteps and the occasional sigh you let out. He stopped to let you catch up, turning to look at your grumpy expression.
“You hate it that much?” he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face.
You nodded like a child, your bottom lip jutting out even more. “I hate it,” you grumbled. “The bugs, the sweating, the uphill part—ugh, especially the uphill part.”
He laughed softly and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You could’ve just said so, baby. I wouldn’t have forced you.”
You shook your head, looking down at the ground. “But you wanted me to join you,” you mumbled. “And you always try out my hobbies, so I figured I should try yours too.”
Seungcheol’s grin softened into something warmer as he stepped closer, his hands gently settling on your shoulders. “Yah,” he said, his tone tender, “you didn’t have to do this just for me. I don’t want you to be miserable.”
“I’m not miserable,” you argued halfheartedly, though your pout betrayed you. “I’m just… not enjoying it.”
That made him laugh again. He bent down slightly to meet your eyes. “Let’s turn back, hmm? We can go grab something to eat instead. How does that sound?”
Your eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Really? You’re not upset?”
“How could I be upset when you’re this cute?” he said, pinching your cheek lightly. “You tried for me, and that means a lot. But next time, I’ll make sure we do something we both enjoy.”
You smiled, your pout finally replaced with a more genuine expression. “Okay. But no more hiking.”
“No more hiking,” he promised, taking your hand as the two of you turned back down the trail. “But I’ll probably still tease you about this for the rest of your life.”
“Cheol!” You groaned, and he laughed, his grip on your hand tightening as he led you back toward the car, already thinking of how to spoil you for putting up with his hobby.
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It was one of those rare, lazy afternoons when the group was hanging out at Jeonghan’s place, sprawled across his living room in varying states of relaxation.
You were sitting cross-legged on the couch, quietly sipping on your drink, while Seungcheol sat beside you, one arm casually slung across the back of the couch, his fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder.
Jeonghan, ever the instigator, watched the two of you with a knowing glint in his eyes. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he smirked. “So,” he started, drawing out the word like it was some grand announcement. “Are you two, like, officially a couple now?”
You froze mid-sip, eyes darting to Seungcheol. He didn’t even flinch, just let out a small exhale through his nose as if he’d been expecting the question.
“I mean...” he began, his voice trailing off as he scratched the back of his neck, his gaze flicking to you for a split second before settling back on Jeonghan.
“What kind of answer is that?” Jeonghan said, feigning exasperation. “You either are or you aren’t.”
Seungkwan, perched on the armrest of a nearby chair, chimed in, his grin wide. “Yeah, hyung, spill it. The suspense is killing us.”
You shifted uncomfortably, suddenly hyperaware of Seungcheol’s hand now fully resting on your shoulder. “I—uh—” you stammered, unsure of what to say.
Seungcheol finally turned his head to look at you, his expression softening in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “Whatever she wants us to be,” he said simply, his tone steady but laced with something unspoken.
The room went silent for a beat before Jeonghan groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “That’s not an answer, Cheol!”
Seungkwan burst into laughter, clapping his hands. “I swear, you two are impossible.”
You felt your cheeks heat up, but Seungcheol just chuckled, his thumb brushing lightly against your shoulder in reassurance.
“I think we’re doing just fine,” he said calmly, shooting Jeonghan a pointed look that clearly said, *drop it.*
Jeonghan raised his hands in surrender, though the smirk never left his face. “Fine, fine. But don’t think I’m not keeping an eye on you two.”
As the conversation shifted to another topic, you glanced at Seungcheol, your lips twitching into a small, shy smile. He caught your gaze and leaned in slightly, his voice low enough for only you to hear.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’ve got this... whatever *this* is.”
And somehow, that was all the reassurance you needed.
Later he drives you home, the hum of the car engine was the only sound filling the space between you and Seungcheol. The evening air was cool, and the faint smell of his cologne lingered in the car, you fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket you were wearing, the fabric too big for you but warm and comforting, much like the man sitting next to you.
“So…” you started, your voice timid, breaking the silence. “Are we like… what are we…”
You trailed off, unsure how to word the question that had been buzzing in your head since Jeonghan’s teasing earlier.
Seungcheol glanced at you briefly, his expression calm, but you could see the flicker of something softer in his eyes. He kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the armrest. “You don’t have to overthink their question,” he said gently. “No rush…”
“Yeah, but I want to know too,” you mumbled quietly, almost shyly, cutting him off before he could finish.
His grip on the wheel tightened just a fraction, and he let out a soft exhale. He pulled the car to a stop at a red light, finally turning his full attention to you.
You were twiddling with the sleeve of his jacket, your fingers nervously tugging at the fabric. That familiar pout was back, the one he could never seem to resist.
“Y/N…” he started, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.
You peeked up at him, your eyes big and vulnerable, and it hit him again—how deep he was, how there was no getting out of this even if he wanted to.
“You really want to know?” he asked, his voice dipping lower.
You nodded, your teeth catching your bottom lip nervously.
He leaned back in his seat, his gaze steady on yours. “You’re…” He hesitated for a brief second before letting the words fall out. “You’re the person I think about first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. You’re the one I’d drop everything for, no questions asked. And you’re the only one I want sitting next to me, wearing my jacket, pouting at me like that.”
Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by his sudden honesty.
“So, what are we?” he continued, his lips quirking into the smallest smile. “We’re whatever you want us to be. But if it’s up to me…” He reached out, his hand gently brushing against yours. “We’re already everything.”
You felt your cheeks heat up, his words wrapping around your heart like a warm blanket. “Cheol…”
The light turned green, but he didn’t move the car immediately, his eyes still locked on you. “So?” he prompted, his tone lighter now. “What are we, Y/N?”
You gave him a shy smile, your fingers brushing against his. “I think we’re everything too,” you whispered.
He grinned then, that dimpled, boyish grin that made your chest feel tight. “Good,” he said simply, as if that was all he needed to hear.
And with that, he shifted gears and drove on, the air between you lighter but filled with an unspoken promise.
The quiet of the evening wrapped around you both as Seungcheol walked you to your apartment. The city was alive in the distance, but here, on the dimly lit stairs leading to your door, it was just the two of you.
You stopped at the top, turning to him as he stood a step below, his broad shoulders at perfect height for you to wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers naturally found their way to the ends of his hair, twisting the soft strands between them.
He looked up at you, his dark eyes warm and fond, his dimples making an appearance as he gave you that small, knowing smile. “What?” he asked, his voice quiet but teasing, like he already knew what you were going to say.
You smiled back, tilting your head slightly as if studying his face. “Nothing,” you said, your voice soft, your heart full. “I love you.”
For a moment, his smile faltered—not from doubt, but from the overwhelming warmth that bloomed across his chest.
Then, without hesitation, he leaned closer, the space between you shrinking as his lips brushed yours in the softest, most tender kiss. It wasn’t rushed or uncertain. It was steady and gentle, like the beginning of something infinite.
He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his hand lifting to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice low but certain.
You couldn’t help but smile again, leaning into his touch, your forehead resting lightly against his. “Good,” you whispered, your fingers still playing with his hair.
His lips quirked into another grin, his dimples deepening. “Good,” he echoed softly, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. Then he kisses you again.
And in that quiet moment, on the top of those stairs, it was as though the rest of the world ceased to exist. There was just you, Seungcheol, and the unspoken promise that this—whatever it was—was everything you’d both ever need.
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