#he seems to be presenting this as just a random passing thought he had and not a real official plan for any upcoming story

[lionhanie]

the first snow (lee riwoo)

working during the holidays isn’t too bad with sanghyeok by your side 

co-worker!riwoo x gn!reader (non-idol au) 

this work is my contribution to @onedoornet’s christmas event, a very onedoor christmas! check it out here!

word count: 4.1k ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ genre: fluff

warnings: a pinch of angst i'd say (alluding to burnout/seasonal depression), reader is a people pleaser, i curse maybe twice lol, riwoo is referred to as sanghyeok! 

a/n: SORRY I KNOW CHRISTMAS IS OVER…. had fun writing it regardless :,) hope u enjoy ^^

reblogs ↺  + feedback always appreciated!

Being one of the younger workers in the office was frustrating to say the least. Pausing your work to complete trivial tasks in the middle of the workday – making copies of a meeting agenda, fetching your seniors’ morning coffees, reorganizing the ridiculously large stack of your current client’s files – the list seemed to never end. For some reason, everyone around you was conveniently occupied with something so urgent that they couldn’t attend to the matters themselves, leaving the responsibility up to you. Sometimes you felt like you spent more time faced with useless errands than doing the work you were hired to do in the first place.

You were expecting a bit more respect from your peers when you were appointed as the team leader for your company’s newest project, but you were quick to realize your naivety in the earlier group meetings, finding that no one seemed to take you seriously. You would’ve thought that because the other members on the project had years of experience on their side, surely they’d be able to hold their weight to a certain extent... Right?

Painfully enough, it was the complete opposite. You can’t count the number of times one of the more “experienced” workers asked you to repeat a detail you’d discussed just minutes prior, or proposed a suggestion that completely contradicted the end goal of your client– it was clear to you that no one saw your leadership as more than a joke, no matter how hard you tried. 

And to top it all off, your company was structured in such a way that made it nearly impossible for you to speak up against your elders. Your word as a senior associate meant close to nothing if you were going against one of the partners of the firm. It didn’t matter that you put in ten times more effort than your team members, it was almost as if they were praised according to how long they’ve been in the office.

Safe to say you were relieved when Sanghyeok was added as a member of the team you were leading on a random Tuesday afternoon. Not that you two were close by any means – the extent of your interactions consisted of small smiles exchanged in passing in the printer room or short discussions of weekend plans over coffee in the break room. Rather, you were hopeful that his addition to the project would mean someone would finally start contributing even a fraction of the work you were putting in.

Even though you dread your bi-weekly team meetings, it was so much more rewarding to at least one other person cared about the success of the project. Sanghyeok was always in his unassigned-assigned seat right by the projector, intently nodding along to your agenda and taking notes when he deemed necessary. Hell, he’d even chime in whenever someone would ask a question that was obviously answered earlier in the presentation, giving you the chance to save your breath for something that actually mattered, and shooting you a cheeky grin afterwards, clearly satisfied helping you whenever he could. 

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Four days before the deadline. . .

Everyone begins to pack up their belongings the second it hits 5:00PM, slowly but surely filing out of the office before it gets too dark. It was no surprise to see your colleagues zipping up their briefcases far earlier than you planned on clocking out; the project deadline crept up on you faster than you’d like to admit, and your mostly incompetent team forced you to work overtime a majority of the recent weeks. In any other case, you probably wouldn’t be breaking your back hunched over your keyboard hours after the sun had set, but because the project was in your name, it pained you to present a finished product you weren’t proud of. 

“You aren’t leaving yet, Y/N?” You look up from your monitor, finding Sanghyeok looking at you from across your cubicle, wrapping a plush scarf around his neck. His eyes are full of concern– he’s noticed the way you never seem to budge once your peers start going home for the night. Even on days when he logs off later than he’d initially planned to, you’re still there, typing away at your desk.

“Agh, our Y/N is always so hardworking! They never seem to leave with the rest of us,” Alvin, a senior on your project notorious for sending in half-assed work far past the deadline you set for him, comments from his seat beside you. “I could never put in as much work as you do, not when I’ve got a family waiting for me at home!” Yeah, no shit. It’s hard to believe he’s stayed at the company so long performing the same quality of work you were doing in your first year in the office.

His words stung a bit, feeling oddly bitter at the idea of someone like him having people who loved him waiting for him to return from work– Coming back home to an empty apartment late at night never used to bother you, but something about the long winter nights and freezing temperatures made it undoubtedly sad in nature. It wasn’t just the weather making your loneliness feel colder than usual. 

The smile you return is painfully fake, something Sanghyeok clocks almost immediately. He gnaws on his lip, wanting to say something to the senior, ultimately deciding to hold back on it given how new he was to the project. Maybe it wasn’t his place. He didn’t want to make things worse for you by saying something out of line. Alvin shrugs his coat onto his back, quickly leaving the premises without another word. 

“If I didn’t see you in a new outfit everyday, I’d think you slept at your desk,” Sanghyeok jokes, trying to lighten the mood. From his first meeting with the new team, he quickly learned to admire the way you seemed to take charge when you needed to. It was impressive the way you’d joined the company later than he had, and were already put in charge of such a big task. He knew exactly how it felt to deal with all the stupid tasks from the other seniors in the office, finding himself doing the same thing for weeks before you came in. 

You chuckle pitifully, mainly towards yourself. “At this point, I should stop paying rent and start living at my desk.” You groan as you take a break for a well-needed stretch, your back cracking from your poor posture. “Some days I feel like I’m in the office more than my apartment.” Your words are lighthearted, but Sanghyeok notices the underlying melancholy in your statement. 

And Sanghyeok takes his leave, only after wishing you good luck and a “get home safe” as he always does, but he can’t stop thinking about how much time you’ve been putting into your work. He’s constantly shut down whenever he asks you if there’s anything else he can help with, just wanting to take a fraction of the load off your plate.

He knows you’re doing it just to be nice. You’re the type of person to take on a burden all on your own, even if it means committing to the ungodly hours you’ve become so used to. Even on the bus ride home, Sanghyeok can’t shake your tired eyes out of his mind. For some reason, it hurts to imagine you slowly killing yourself over a silly project all because no one had the decency to bother trying when they knew you’d fix it for them anyways. He wanted to do more… No, he needed to do more. 

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Three days before the deadline. . .

Sanghyeok wonders how you’re always earlier than him when he walks into the office, finding you so put-together and diligently editing the project presentation when he’s still groggy after his commute to work. 

The workload around the holidays is never too demanding, thankfully the company’s clients normally don’t ask for much as the year comes to an end. In your case, however, all your time is spent on trying to perfect the project proposal for your overwhelmingly-nitpicky boss. You’re convinced it’s some sort of test to see how good you’d be leading a team before you get the promotion you’ve been waiting on for the past couple months. Even if you make it out of your boss’ critiques alive, you’re certain you’ve lost countless years off your life with all the stress weighing down on you. 

You lock eyes with Sanghyeok every once in a while, finding him peeking over the divider separating your desks more than normal. That’s odd. You figure it’s probably because he has a question about the numerous items that still need fixing on the project. It doesn’t occur to you that he wants to talk to you until he rises from his chair, tapping his pen on the top of your monitor to catch your attention.

“I don’t know if you saw, but I just fixed a lot of the trouble areas you mentioned in the meeting the other day,” He’s excessively clicking the pen in his free hand, feeling oddly nervous to show you his work even when he knows he did everything properly– He knows how high your expectations are when it comes to your job. “I’m pretty sure I made sure to do everything you asked for, but you might want to double-check if I missed anything.”

The gasp of relief you let out is uncharacteristically loud, so much so that it earns you a side-eye from Alvin, who was currently playing solitaire at his desk next to you. He’d just saved you hours of overtime with his work, finding everything done to a tee. “No, no, this is perfect. I was dying to fix those until I realized I forgot Christian told me to come with him for his fieldwork later and–”

“It doesn’t matter who goes with him, right? I’ll go with him instead.”

“Huh? Are you sure? I don’t mind, plus he specifically asked me so maybe–”

“Y/N, it’s fine, really! I used to go on client visits all the time before he started dragging you along with him. I’ll be okay, promise!” He’s confident in his words, reassuring you of all the concerns he knew were starting to bubble up in your head. “I know you’ve been worried about getting everything done before the deadline, you shouldn’t have to waste your precious time following him around and pretending like you care about his wife.” 

The comment makes you giggle, everyone knew the senior for the way he could go on and on about his family life knowing damn well no one was actually listening to his neverending rants. “Thank you, Sanghyeok. It means a lot, really.”  

“Maybe we’ll be able to leave at the same time today, yeah?”

 

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Two days before the deadline. . .

The following day, after everyone else in the office logged out for the night, Sanghyeok sneaks back into the office. He made it his mission to discreetly plant a care package for you while you’re busy in the printer room– It’s nothing big, no, rather just a hot cup of tea and a sandwich he’d purchased from the cafe across the street from the building. 

You’d offhandedly mentioned the way you get so immersed in your work without anyone peering over your shoulder that you forget to cater to your growing hunger, often resorting to eating instant ramen in the break room before returning to your desk. Sanghyeok knew how much the project meant to you, but that didn’t mean he was going to let you neglect your health just for a positive response from your old boss.   

You’re confused when you come back to your cubicle, finding all of your previously haphazardly scattered project papers perfectly organized in a folder by the edge of the desk. The lid was taken off the cup of tea, presumably to let it cool down a bit before drinking. Huh? The note atop the sandwich container answered the questions lingering in your mind.

hope you don’t mind me moving some stuff around on your desk :p  eat up before you get back to work! good luck y/n!  sanghyeok (  ≧ᗜ≦)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ One day before the deadline. . .

“You think Alvin will mind if I borrow his spot today?” Sanghyeok questions, swiveling around in an office chair that didn’t belong to him.

“You could probably erase all the files off his computer and he wouldn’t bat an eye,” You joke as you sort through the stacks of papers residing on your desk, looking for a particular document. “I’m convinced he gets paid to just sit there and play card games for eight hours.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him touch his keyboard.” Sanghyeok chuckles before logging into the computer beside you.

“Why’re you using his computer though? You’re not going home yet?” 

“I think it’s only fair for me to help you finish the proposal when we’re supposed to be submitting it tomorrow,” Sanghyeok answers matter-of-factly. You watch as he opens up the same powerpoint you’ve been staring at on his own monitor. It’s quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from the occasional clicks of your mouse. “...Doesn’t it get lonely working all by yourself?”

You pause to think for a moment. It’s not the worst thing in the world, you’re sure you wouldn’t be capable of doing it everyday if it was that unbearable. “No, not really. If anything, it’s nice to not have anyone pulling me away from my desk for some stupid shit– Sorry, stupid stuff.” You correct yourself. 

“I know we’re still at work and all, but you don’t need to censor yourself when it’s just us. I’m not gonna snitch on you for cursing on the clock, Y/N.” He teases, not surprised to see that you’re still in work-mode even when the office is practically empty. 

“Oops, just force of habit. I'd rather die than accidently curse in front of one of the oldies we work with,” You smile sheepishly, feeling at ease with him at your side. You’re not sure when you grew so fond of the man – maybe it’s because of how similar you are in age or the way he’s always so quick to defend you in the meeting room – but he’s always felt like more of a friend than a co-worker in times like these. “...It’s nice to have some company for a change, though. Felt like I was going insane looking at the same documents all by myself.” 

“It’s okay to admit you get lonely sometimes, Y/N.” Sanghyeok pauses his typing to look at you, his eyes soft when they meet yours. “I was thinking about it on my way home the other day, you know, the way you willingly stay in the office after everyone leaves every night. It’s hard to imagine it isn’t difficult being by yourself all the time.”

You’re silent, knowing that he’ll see through you no matter what you say. Sure, you had your fair share of moments sitting crying at your desk, in fear that your efforts wouldn’t pay off despite how much you’ve been trying, but that doesn’t mean you need his help. You made it this far all on your own, after all. 

And when you fall asleep at your desk, exhaustion finally catching up to you, Sanghyeok doesn’t hesitate to rest a sweater on your back. He knows how upset you’ll be once you wake up, bummed that you dozed off at such a crucial time, but he’s more than happy to let you sleep for a bit before gently shaking you awake after a well-deserved power nap. 

“Shit, how long was I knocked out for?” Embarrassed, you rub the sleep from your eyes, turning away to yawn. 

“It wasn’t even thirty minutes, you’ll be fine Y/N. I finished editing a section of the report while you were sleeping too.” You tap on your mouse, waking up the black screen, happy to see that a good chunk of the comments you’d made on the document were long resolved. “Can you promise me something?” 

You’re offset by the sudden serious mood lingering between you two, but you slowly nod regardless. “Even when this project is over, will you promise to come to me if you need help?” 

“I know I only joined your team recently, but I want you to know you can depend on me. It’s not fair for you to do all this on your own,” Sanghyeok can sense the way you’re processing his request in your mind, watching as you hesitate to answer. “I know it’s probably weird coming from someone who’s only been here a couple months longer than you, but I promise I’ll try my best if you ever need me.” 

“Okay.”

“...So that means you won’t try to turn me down whenever I offer to do something for you, right?” 

“Yes, Sanghyeok, I won’t turn you down when you try to help me.” You roll your eyes at him before turning back to your computer, missing the way his face lights up at your response, proudly smiling to himself. 

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The day of the deadline. . .

You’re sure you could cry tears of joy when you send the final version of your project proposal to your boss. There were a few sections you wish you had more time to perfect, but it was impossible without an extension to your deadline– There’s nothing else to do but wait until you get feedback, which is entirely out of your hands at this point. 7:15PM. It’s still two hours past the usual 5:00PM ending time, but far earlier than you’ve clocked out in the past two weeks. 

“You’re actually leaving at the same time as me? I’m not dreaming, right?” Sanghyeok pinches at his cheek, earning a giggle from you in response. 

“Well, I just forwarded all the documents to our boss. Felt like I deserved at least one early night during the holidays,” You close your eyes as you fall back in your chair, letting out a content sigh knowing there wasn’t anything else you had to do for a while. “God, I don’t know what I’d do without you, Sanghyeok.” 

He holds the door for you after you’ve both collected all of your belongings, bundled up for the harsh temperatures waiting for you outside the building. The elevator ride down is silent until the man next to you clears his throat, prompting you to look at him. “So, do you have plans tonight?”

“Ah, not really. I was planning on picking up some dinner at the convenience store before heading back to my place.” He nods, fiddling with his tie in a feeble attempt to calm down his nerves from what he was about to do. 

“Can I take you out to dinner, Y/N?” Your eyes widen slightly, unsure what to make of the question. Was he… asking you on a date right now? It wasn’t out of the ordinary for coworkers to share a meal off the clock, but the fact that it was just the two of you had your brain malfunctioning. “...You know, as a thank you for working so hard on the project! It’s the least I can do.” Sanghyeok laughed nervously, hand flying up to the back of his neck as he waited for your response. 

It doesn’t take long for you to decide your answer, nodding in confirmation, feeling slightly bashful at the sudden act of appreciation you weren’t used to receiving, especially not at work. There’s a pep in his step as he brings to you one of his favorite ramen spots, a hole-in-the-wall joint tucked away from the main streets. It’s cute, honestly. You’ve learned a lot about your coworker in recent days, but this side of him was entirely new to you. 

You’re glad you trusted his recommendations when you take your first bite, the hot broth immediately melting the chills you garnered from the short walk there. Despite this being your first interaction with Sanghyeok outside of work, there’s no awkwardness in your time spent together– Instead, a fuzzy feeling rests in your chest as you look at the man sitting across the table from you. Perhaps it’s due to the newfound absence of pressure on your back from sending in the project proposal, or maybe because it’s the first time you’ve allowed yourself a proper meal in days, but it’s a feeling you don’t wish to lose any time soon. 

Usually you’re one to rush back home immediately after dinner, not wanting to lose any second of rest you have before you’re forced to go back to the hell you call work, but you’re more than happy to accept Sanghyeok’s invitation to go to a nearby bar for some drinks following the meal you shared. It’s there you realize he’s a lot wittier than he comes off as when you’re on the clock, your cheeks aching from smiling so hard at his endless supply of jokes. 

You don’t stay there long, only garnering a couple drinks before finding yourself walking around one of the parks in the area you didn’t even know existed, gawking at the string lights adorning the trees. Work was taking up all of your attention that you didn’t even have the time to decorate your apartment for the holidays like you normally would’ve. This was the closest thing you could get, but you were far from complaining. 

“I never expected you to be like this, Sanghyeok.” You confess after coming down from the fit of laughter he’d induced with one of his stupid puns.

“What do you mean?” He asks, worried that he’d done something wrong. 

“Oh, I wasn’t trying to say anything bad! You’re just… A breath of fresh air, I guess.” Your words emit a cloud of vapor in the frigid air.  “I’m sorry I didn’t notice it sooner, I’ve been a real shut-in especially with the deadline and–”

“You don’t need to apologize for that, Y/N.” He cuts you off; he’s well aware of your tendency to apologize for things that you didn’t need to be sorry for in the first place. It was one of the only things he wished he could change about you, wanting you to give yourself more credit for the love you poured into everything you did. “I just wanted to make your life easier, I guess. Thanks for giving me the chance to do that tonight.” 

“I should really be the one thanking you. You’ve been nothing short of helpful ever since you joined our team,” Thinking back on the past couple days, Sanghyeok never once shied away from doing things to ease your burdens, even going out of his way so you could focus all your attention onto what mattered most to you. “It’s like you were some sort of holiday miracle sent to me.” 

Unwrapping the scarf from his neck, Sanghyeok carefully loops it around the back of your head, securing it snugly at the front of your jacket. “It’s freezing… You should really be layering up more.” He’s glad the lighting on the trees is too dim for you to see the blush creeping up his neck after seeing you in his clothes. He’d probably blame it on the frosty air if you called him out on it. “Ah, it’s snowing!” 

The gaze you were previously sharing is broken as you look up, crystal white snowflakes slowly sinking from the sky. It was surreal to be standing in the middle of the park, ambient light illuminating the way the snow ended their descent atop your heads, your shared laughter harmonizing at the sight.

And despite the cold weather, you felt warm standing next to him.

© lionhanie 2025 ; all rights reserved!

[mizukagami-takamagahara]

Remember this old thing???

I'm taking a crack at translating it myself.

But I'm already stuck on the first line...

"フ°ロシトです"!???! Mori, please stop using katakana out of nowhere...

[sweetshuga]

Pretty Please? 𓆩♡𓆪 CS

Warnings! Smut!, swearing, oral (f! receiving), oral (m! receiving), use of ma, confident!reader, soft!dom!chris, overstimulation n' whatnot,

Word count. 884

Note. English is not my first language! (honestly more of a warning than a note)

"Wait-" a moan escaped your mouth before you could finish your words.

"Stop squirmin’ ma," his voice muffled by your dripping core as he ate you out like a starving man.

Your back arched as you thrashed around, unable to stay still, after all, you had orgasmed who knows how many times now. Every nerve in your body was burning, your skin oversensitized from the sheer amount of back to back climaxes.

"Chris, please," his name a broken whimper on your lips as he still didn't stop despite your trembling body, instead, slowly slipped two long digits in, curling them just right as he sucked hard on your clit.

𓆩♡𓆪

You and Chris had an argument, and no, not a lover’s quarrel; you two weren’t exclusive after all.

He had stated once again that you two weren't a thing, much to your distaste. You liked him. It wasn’t a secret really, even he knew you liked him like that.

You sulked, as per usual, earning an eye roll and a scoff from Chris. He had made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want anything serious, he wasn’t ready... yet.

He had always thought you were a pretty girl. Smart and funny to boot, honestly the epitome of a desirable woman. Great personality, nice- no, perfect fucking ass, one of the things he noticed the first time he saw you around campus.

Chris wasn’t the relationship type, neither was he a player, sure, he had his fair share of girls every now and then but he was never that crazy about flings.

He couldn’t deny it, it was never a secret, he had made it clear to every girl around campus that he wasn’t the biggest fan of commitment. Scared was an understatement when it came to relationships for Chris.

He was terrified.

Though you weren’t just some random chick he wanted to play fuck and duck with; you were real, you liked him, really liked him. He couldn’t deny that fluttering feeling he got when you were around.

You were beautiful and all, that ass though damn, but even with that fluttering feeling he got with you around, he wasn’t that into you to consider working on his commitment issues for you.

The playful argument you had with Chris ended up, yet again, with you in bed with him.

𓆩♡𓆪

Back to the present, the present where your body bowed off the bed, unable to control your moans.

Your eyes rolled back in pure ecstasy, spots dancing behind it, and the noises coming out of your mouth were purely pornographic.

You had orgasmed yet again.

Almost on the verge of passing out is when Chris finally lets go of your clit with a wet pop. The poor nub swollen and oversensitized.

"Damn... you’re a mess..." a low rumble of a chuckle slipped through his pretty pink lips that now glistened with your juices.

His chin dripping with it.

"Think you broke me... dunno if I can... move," you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

"Dramatic much?" Chris chuckled huskily in amusement, his voice hoarse from disuse and desire. He watched as your eyes closed and your body went limp.

"Oh c’mon ma, don’t go passin’ out on me," he chuckled again as he shook your shoulder gently, causing you to stir.

"mm... Chris... No more." you whined quietly, not like you could speak any louder anyway.

Chris just chuckled again, "whaaat? No more?" he pouted playfully, jutting his bottom lip out dramatically.

"Gee, think you can cut me some slack? been comin’... how many times now? I can’t even remember," he chuckled again, finding your words amusing.

"Can you stop giggling for 5 seconds?" propping yourself on your elbows, as you looked at him with mock annoyance.

Your eyes darted down to his lap, the sheer size of the bulge made you feel that ache between your legs again, despite your words.

Chris seemed to have noticed your gaze. His large hand palmed himself through his loose grey sweatpants.

The pair you loved, and he knew it, that's the reason he wore it in the first place.

"Eyes up sweetheart," he joked, not breaking eye contact with you as he slowly pulled down his sweatpants.

Your eyes widened briefly as his length hit his stomach.

He had gone commando.

"C’mon, don’t look at me like that," he chuckled lowly "n’ you think you can help me with this lil’ problem?"

He noticed the hesitation in your eyes so he added quickly, "promise I won’t put it in... know you’re too sensitive right now."

A soft sigh of relief escaped your lips. "Alright, yeah, I might as well return the favor," you murmured chuckling weakly. You slowly sat up, your body still burning with the previous highs, and pushed him gently into a sitting position.

Chris watched intently, through hooded lids, as your head lowered down to his throbbing erection. His hips jerking slightly when you wrapped your plump lips around his sensitive head.

His lips parted as a low moan fell from it, throwing his head back as you took him deeper in your warm, wet mouth.

"mmh... yeah... just... just like that," he encouraged, his fingers tangling in your hair, making a make-shift ponytail, pushing your head further down, making you take more of his length.

𓆩♡𓆪

© sweetshuga

[ryukatters]

swipe right — k. bakugo x fem! reader

✮ a/n: i remember seeing a post on here a long time ago about a character making a fake tinder profile for their gf and realizing how many people want her. (if someone knows the OG post please lmk so i can link it!) so now i present to you: bakugo falling to his knees in the middle of your apartment bedroom for the exact same reason.

✮ content/warnings: dubcon, quirkless/college! au, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, biting, bkg gets a little rough with you, and bkg's also a fucking simp but when do I ever write him as being otherwise??

✮ summary: your boyfriend decides to make a fake tinder profile for you just to see how many matches you get. he comes to a realization just how many other people want what’s already his.

✮ word count: 4.2k (i'm so sick)

Bakugo can remember how this all started. In very vivid detail, actually. He remembers because Kaminari had pissed him off so much to the extent that it took him a very substantial amount of effort to refrain from bashing his friend’s face in.

It all started during the last monthly hangout amongst Bakugo and his friends�� one day out of the month designated to make sure that they all had time to catch up with one another despite their busy schedules.

Everything was normal, with all of them getting more than enough of their fill of food and alcohol while idly playing video games and talking about random topics to fill in the silence in Kaminari’s living room. 

Perfectly normal, until Denki decided to open his stupid mouth, at least. 

He goes off on a tangent about a trend he saw on social media where someone makes a fake Tinder profile for their partner to see how many matches they’d get. He proceeds to tell Bakugo that he should try doing it, for “funsies,”— to which Bakugo scoffs at. 

“Aren’t you curious, Kacchan?” Kaminari smiles cheekily, wrapping an arm around his blond friend’s shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Bakugo’s becoming visibly more upset with every passing moment. 

“Your girlfriend is really pretty,” Mina chimes in, sticking her tongue out when Katsuki whips his head to glare at her. “I’m still surprised she’s with a grump like you.” 

Kaminari butts in, “I bet there’s a whole line of guys around the block just waiting for a chance to get with her. I mean, just look at her! Hell, I’d even let her peg m—”

For a moment, Bakugo swears he wants to bash Kaminari’s face into his flatscreen. And for a moment, he lets that impulsive thought win— getting up and grabbing two fistfuls of Denki’s shirt before promptly getting cut off by Kirishima.

“Alright alright,” Kirishima forcibly pries Bakugo off of the other blond, pushing him off to the side. “That’s enough, you two. Kaminari was just messing around. I’ll admit, it wasn’t a good joke, but no need to hurt the guy, okay Bakugo?” 

Kirishima knows that Kaminari wasn’t being that serious, but Kirishima can also admit that what he had to say held some ounce of truth. And Kirishima knows Bakugo well enough to see how your boyfriend tends to be rather skittish and protective with matters concerning you— which is exactly why Eijiro had to stop him before it was too late. He really didn’t feel like preparing for Denki’s funeral or helping hide Katsuki escape from a homicide charge.

And that was that…up until a few minutes ago.

Katsuki’s tried to forget that conversation. But try as he might, his mind betrays him and can’t help but wander back to what Denki said that night.

He trusts you of course, and has complete faith in your relationship. However, he’s curious to a fault, just about perhaps too curious for his own good. 

How badly could this end?

As it turns out, this whole scheme seems to be playing out very poorly. 

Dozens of photos of you— screenshotted from your social media accounts— fill Katsuki’s screen. He had to choose photos you uploaded yourself, because most of his photos of you were either too…suggestive or too domestic (and he wants to be the only one to see you in those moments).

He swipes through “your” profile one last time before clicking “done” to officially put you on the market. And just like that, Bakugo’s met with the faces of men who are nowhere near your level. He goes through the batch of profiles, scrutinizing each one he comes across. He’s (un)surprisingly selective with the ones he chooses to swipe right on— making sure that they’re at least somewhat conventionally attractive. To his surprise (or dread, rather), his phone pings right away with a notification from someone who swiped back. Another ping. A message. 

You free tonight? 

Bakugo scoffs. He looks through the guy’s profile— a picture of him at a party with his arms around some girls, another with him doing a victory pose presumably after hiking, and one with him holding a fish. He feels his mouth curl in disgust, about to give into the urge to reply and give this guy a piece of his mind, before he realizes he’s pretending to be you. He takes a deep breath, closes out of the app, and puts down his phone. 

He’s starting to regret this.

Bakugo’s phone has gone off 15 times in the last hour. Bakugo has also felt the need to strangle some stranger through the phone 15 times in the last hour. Your (read: his) profile has existed for less than 60 minutes, and you already have a whole address book of nobodies trying to link with you and get a quick fuck. 

He feels the familiar beginnings of a headache creeping up the back of his skull. He thinks he might need a drink. Why did he decide to do this again?

In hindsight, he probably should have known this is exactly how it was going to go down. 

What was that saying? Curiosity killed the cat?

Yeah.

He was never great at self-preservation in the first place. So this, the feeling of overwhelming jealousy, frustration, possessiveness brewing up a storm threatening to pour out of every single fiber of Bakugo’s being— was no surprise.

He watches as the numbers at the bottom of his screen increase steadily, before tapping on the star icon. 

‘99+ likes!’ it reads. Over 99 people who saw your profile and thought you were beautiful. Bakugo pales, and he can feel the cold sweat building on the nape of his neck. He grips his phone, knuckles turning white. Is he shaking from anger or nervousness?

Anger because all these guys think they even have the slightest chance with someone as amazing as you. Nervousness because what if you decide that they do? You wouldn’t actually leave him for one of these guys, right? Right?

None of these men would walk through hell and back for you. They don’t know how you like your coffee, the details of your skin care routine, how you like to binge watch shows and talk Katsuki’s ear off about them (not that he ever minded, of course). They don’t know you, not like he does. Katsuki looks at you like you hung the moon. In fact, he’s pretty convinced that you did. Everything good in his life— the warmth, the color, the joy,— is encompassed by you. He’d be damned if he lets some greasy little nobody take that from him. Because the moment Bakugo fell in love with you, you became a part of him— inextricably and indefinitely. Loving you has become so intrinsic to him, that even the mere thought of another person loving you or looking at you the same way he does has him going insane. Not that anyone could love you like he did, though. That thought brings him some comfort, but not for long. 

One last notification he sees sends him spiraling. Bakugo swears that he can see red. That’s when he deletes the app, and throws his poor phone in some random corner of the living room, which is markedly one of the smarter choices he’s made as of late. He marches to your bedroom with a fire burning in his chest. 

He stops short of the door and finds you sitting at the edge of your shared bed, fresh out of the shower. You’re applying lotion, and he watches the cream absorb into your skin wordlessly, in awe at how overwhelmingly beautiful you manage to look in the most prosaic of tasks. For a second, he almost forgets the reason he was upset in the first place.  

Your hair is still damp, water droplets accumulating at the tips, and Katsuki feels his mouth run dry the minute he watches a stray bead fall and make its way down your neck and stop perfectly in the dip of your collarbone. Your very existence is forever etched into his heart, every inch of you carved into his memory, but even still he can never get tired of looking at you. At every angle, in every lighting, he needs to see you in it. You could call him obsessed, but he’d simply laugh and agree, because what’s so wrong with that? Especially if it’s you. 

You’re one to be studied— to be adored, Katsuki thinks, to the greatest capacity. It’s what you deserve. And what better person for that task to fall upon than him?

He finds himself naturally gravitating towards you, his finger tracing the same exact path the water had carved just moments before, wordlessly. You try to pay no mind, but it’s difficult as you realize just how close Bakugo was and how your towel barely manages to cover up your most intimate parts. One wrong move and you’d be exposed. With how things were playing out, and the predatory glint in the blond’s eyes, you don’t think your boyfriend would be too perturbed with your current predicament. 

Katsuki presses a delicate kiss to your forehead before he crouches down. Suddenly, you’re at eye level with one another, his hot breath tickling your lips. You think for a moment he’s going to kiss you so you lean forward, lips waiting. But he merely grazes them before he sucks a deep bruise into the juncture of your neck, biting slightly. 

You’re barely given any time to react before he’s grabbing the hand that’s securing your towel and ripping it away, the offending garment falling off your body. Your flesh prickles with goosebumps as its exposed to the sudden chill.  It’s quickly replaced by the heat of Bakugo’s body as he pushes you lightly, your back hitting the mattress. He crawls on top of you, muscular thighs on either side of your hips, your head placed conveniently between his forearms. He’s trapped you, a nonverbal challenge for you to try and escape. 

You’re a work of art, he thinks, but much more valuable than any pièce de résistance framed in any museum. 

Beautiful, yes, but far too blank for his liking. He wants to ruin you, make you his own personal magnum opus. And so he does. 

He presses a clothed knee against your bare cunt, pressing firmly. His lips continue their assault on your neck, leaving angry purpling bruises in their wake. Rough hands find your breast, and you moan in surprise when he gives both of them a harsh squeeze as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. Katsuki kisses you like a man dying of thirst, hungry for everything you can offer him and more. It’s all too much already, the way he’s kissing you has your mind reeling, and you have to turn your head away for a moment to catch your breath. Katsuki thinks it’s a moment too long without you, so he coaxes you into locking lips with him once more. A wave of mischievousness washes over you, prompting you to take your boyfriend’s lower lip in between your teeth, biting down lightly. 

You feel his breath hitch, before he lets out a low groan as he grinds his clothed dick against your bare wetness. He returns the favor, sucking on your bottom lip before letting it go with a wet pop. He pulls back with a lazy smirk, his lips pursing together to scatter messy kisses down the base of your throat and down your chest, alternating between sucking and biting at the flesh. 

He gives you a good once-over, scanning every surface, committing them to memory. You feel the need to curl into yourself with how intensely those vermillion eyes are piercing into you, memorizing every single curve, scar, freckle like he’s done time and time again. 

He drops down to his knees, broad shoulders bullying their way in between your legs, forcibly prying them open. He grips your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh, and drags you down the mattress until your legs are dangling off the bed.

“Jesus, Kats, be more gentle.”

“Shhh. I know you like it when I’m not gentle,” he chuckles. As if to prove a point, he pulls you down even further, giving a harsh bite to your inner thigh. He smiles deviously when you yelp. You try to pull at his hair but his reflexes are too quick, pinning both of your wrists down on either side of you easily. “Besides, this is the perfect height for me to eat you out, dontcha think baby?” 

You want to chastise him for being so crass, so Katsuki, but the words die on the tip of your tongue the minute he gives a sweet, loving kiss to your clit, sucking lightly. 

“You’re mine. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this except for me.” 

You’re not entirely sure what brought this on, but you find it hard to complain when Bakugo drags his tongue from your throbbing clit to inside your pussy, drinking everything you have to offer. 

Your hands automatically try to find purchase in his blond locks, struggling against the vice grip Katsuki has on your wrists. He decides to take pity on you, loosening his hold so you can slip your hands into his hair, moaning appreciatively when he feels you tug. He rewards you by flicking his tongue on your clit over and over again, just the way you like it. He does it until your moans begin to pitch higher and higher, the same way that they do when you’re close. He doesn’t stop his ministrations even after you cum, riding out your orgasm until your thighs are shaking from overstimulation. He pulls away from you with a loud pop, taking in the sight before him. 

He runs a hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “So fucked out already and we’re barely getting started, baby.”

Your mind is barely processing his words before you feel Katsuki’s erection brush against your stomach, his clothing haphazardly discarded on the floor. He taps the head of his dick against your clit to tease you, a feeling of satisfaction swelling when you cry out from under him.  

He watches in fascination as strings of your arousal cling to him. He positions his length at your entrance, locking eyes with you as you hold your breath in anticipation. Katsuki likes you like this. Needy for him. 

 “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?” He slips into you with a stuttered groan. 

Katsuki’s always been big. You never get used to the initial stretch, no matter how many times you two fuck. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sliding in with ease from the slick of your last orgasm. It easily coats his cock as he gives a few experimental thrusts. He groans in rapture. How do you manage to feel so good every time? It’s enough to drive him insane. Perhaps he already is. 

“So fucking perfect, no wonder why all those losers want you.” He mutters out the last part, and you’re not sure if you caught that right. 

“What?” He chooses not to respond, and you aren’t given the opportunity to think any further before your legs are thrown over his shoulders, Katsuki’s weight effectively pinning you in place. The stretch knocks all the wind out of your lungs, and all you can do is cling to Katsuki, nails leaving red, angry lines on his well-defined back.

He wastes no time before he starts drilling into you, hips slotting in between your legs perfectly. The position has him pressed against your clit, and your entire body feels like it’s been set ablaze, with Katsuki holding both the power to have it burn even brighter and the ability to extinguish it. And you’re almost there, you can feel your soul slowly ascending, your room filled with hymns of pleasure, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter, threatening to unravel along with your sanity. Katsuki can feel it too— the way you’re squeezing him tighter, how your gasps and moans have climbed just a note higher, how absolutely ruined you look, how he’s responsible for your current state. Which is exactly why he wants to push it even further, he wants to see how much you’ll break for him— and only him. 

Katsuki cuts you off right before you can reach your peak, pulling out but making sure just his tip is inserted. You come to and take a look at your lover and marvel at the sight. He has a crazed look in his eyes. The way he smirks is absolutely wicked. 

You feel distraught— having been so close but having it ripped away from you. You give your boyfriend a petulant pout.

“Katsuki,” you whine, slapping a hand against his sweaty chest, “Why’d you stop? I was so close!”

“Because I didn’t want you to cum yet,” he says simply. “You’ll be good for me, yeah? I’ll give my baby what she deserves, as long as she’s good.” 

You roll your eyes, huffing. That won’t do for him.

As much as he loves seeing you indulge, he feels a need to punish you— at least a little bit to even begin to atone for being the wicked temptress you are. 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Bakugo growls, gripping your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks, causing your lips to purse slightly. “I said be good, okay? Wanna take my time with you.” 

There’s a moment of respite, until you sigh in defeat, knowing better than to argue with him lest you wanted to dig your own grave. “‘Kay, ‘ki.”

He flashes you a smile. Obedient, just how he likes you. “Good girl.”

Katsuki draws his hips back, thrusting just enough to fuck his tip into you. He’s teasing. The amount of willpower on his end it takes not to cum is nauseating. 

“You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” he rasps, one hand finding their way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. Your hands reflexively grab his wrist. 

All you can manage is a fucked out moan. Katsuki has to resist the urge to coo, about how he’s managed to turn you into a cockdrunk mess in such a short matter of time. The wave of possessiveness that’s been gnawing at the depths of his soul begins to seep out, and he’s reminded of the reason why the two of you are in this position in the first place. 

He gives your throat another squeeze and a rough slap to your clit. “C’mon princess, answer me. Say it.” He slowly adds more and more pressure until your ears grow hot and air feels like a precious commodity. 

“I-i’m pretty,” you manage to gasp out, tears spilling from your lash line as you begin to lose yourself between the space of pleasure and pain. 

Good. Always so pliant for him.

“That’s right, baby,” he concedes. “So fuckin’ beautiful.” He punctuates the last word with a deep thrust, right against that spongy spot that feels so good. You’re so sensitive that it’s enough to send you spiraling into your second orgasm, walls spasming around him uncontrollably. 

Katsuki stills, staving off his own release with all the restraint he can summon. He silently thanks whatever divine forces are out there that he didn’t cum the minute he felt the first clench of your orgasm. 

He grits his teeth as he wills himself to move, trying not to get lost in the wetness that envelops him. You’re babbling now, senseless moans filling Katsuki’s ears like a sweet melody. 

“Kats, please, I’m too sensitive—” You’re shaking now, muscles trembling with every thrust. 

“But I’m not done with you yet,” he says simply, drawing his hips back with a particularly rough thrust. You choke back whatever you were going to say with a loud cry. “What’s your color, baby?”

You take a moment to answer, brain trying to comprehend the words just uttered to you. You look at Katsuki firmly, “Green.”

“Atta girl,” he praises, the drive of his hips beginning to shallow. He’s close, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. But for you, he tries. “You’re mine, right?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, shivering as goosebumps dance across your skin. 

“Say it,” Katsuki pleads, thrusts growing sloppy by the second. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m all yours, ‘ki.” 

With that, Katsuki’s fate is sealed. He’s left groaning as a flash of pleasure shakes his very soul, filling you up with so much cum that it dribbles onto the mattress even while he’s still inside you. You follow suit, an embarrassingly obscene rhythm of squelching noises fill the silence as you spasm around his dick. He collapses on top of you, but he’s still coherent enough to not dump all his weight on you. 

Your labored breaths fill the room as the two of you come to. Katsuki pulls out of you with a wince, still a bit sensitive. He gives you a peck on the lips before he drags himself down, settling in between your legs much like he was earlier. 

You tense up, “Kats, wait—”

Any and all protests cease the moment Bakugo works his tongue inside of you, slurping lewdly as he drags out the mixture of your cum and his, swallowing. He tries not to stimulate your puffy clit in an attempt to be merciful, but you still feel yourself steadily climbing to what would be your fourth orgasm this session. While the past three have been intense and drowning, this one comes to you in waves, dull pleasure invading your senses as Katsuki continues to eat you out to clean you up. 

He pulls away when you finish, your slick and his saliva coating his chin before he wipes it off on the back of his hand. You stare at his half-hard erection with a half concerned, half quizzical look. “Do you…” you lick your lips, “need help with that? I’m a little sensitive down there  but I could use my mout—”

“Nah, I’m good babe,” he says earnestly, flashing you a smile that he only ever shows around you. “I’ll be back.” With that, your boyfriend leaves the room only to come back with a bottle of water. 

“Drink.” You comply, finishing half the bottle graciously before handing it to him. He downs the rest before he settles next to you on the bed, laying on his side. You mirror him, shifting your body so that you’re both facing each other. 

Katsuki reaches out, finger idly tracing random shapes and lines onto the bare skin on your hip. He has a pensive look on his face, one that he usually doesn’t hold after stolen moments like this; it’s an expression he wears when he’s in deep thought. 

“Baby,” you call out. His eyes snap to yours, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?”

“Whatcha thinking about?” You watch as a hesitant look flashes across your boyfriend’s face before he shakes his head.

“S’nothin’. Just thinkin’ about us two.” He speaks lightly. It’s always been difficult for him to voice his inner thoughts and feelings, so he tends to beat around the bush. You’ve learned that if you ever want something out of him, you’d have to pry a little. Katsuki always indulges you though. 

“What about us?”

“Do you- do you think you’ll ever get tired of this?” He repeats himself, clearing his throat. The question is followed by a weaker, “...of me?”

You think it’s the most ridiculous question he’s ever asked, because the answer should be obvious. “I’d never get tired of you, Katsuki. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replies automatically, “but if I ever do anything that upsets you, or if I get too much for you, or if I—” he’s rambling now. Yes, it’s difficult for Katsuki to talk about his feelings, but once you manage to get him to open up, all the walls of his self-made fortress come crashing down and it’s up to you to pick up the pieces. 

“Baby,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips, cupping his sharp jaw with one hand. “Look at me.” And he does— ruby eyes meeting yours. “I love you because you’re you. And I choose to be with you everyday. It’s not always gonna be perfect, no relationship is. But I know that I will always wake up and choose you.” 

You can see the anxiety melt away from Katsuki’s body, shoulders slumping as he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Love you too, sap,” is all he says before he’s pulling you against his chest, squeezing you into a bearhug. You two stay that way until both of you are lulled to sleep. 

You’re laying in bed with Katsuki, both of you dozing off when you hear a slight buzz from your phone on the nightstand. You squint as you try to read the notification, and make out that it’s from your friend.

Denki Kaminari: So did it work?

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, giving a quick glance over your shoulder to check on your boyfriend— fast asleep. You turn back to your phone, your thumbs making quick work at your keyboard. 

You: Just like I said it would. Thanks Denki :)

Writing belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not share my work on Tiktok.

[venusbyline]

Prince ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 08, oct.

— pairing: Aemond Targaryen x aunt!reader

— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: somnophilia

— summary: Aemond needs an heir if Aegon finally dies. Gwayne Hightower's wife is too drunk to notice his manipulation.

— word count: 1.7k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 8th day, Targcest (aunt/nephew), female!reader, Gwayne Hightower's wife!reader, dark!Aemond, somnophilia, dubcon/non-con, age gap (older woman/younger man), breeding kink, drunk sex, creampie, sexism, manipulation, fingering, infidelity & mistaken infidelity, curse words, marriage issues, dom!Aemond, sub!reader, baby fever, Aegon II Targaryen mentioned, Helaena Targaryen mentioned, Alicent Hightower mentioned, mentioned Jaehaera Targaryen, minor Gwayne Hightower x reader, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n @lina-lovebug @moonnicole

— crossposting: AO3

At the moment, Aemond Targaryen possessed everything he desires. All the power he had envied his entire childhood was now no longer just a pure stupid illusion and becoming reality. With each passing hour, he became more powerful and also more ambitious.

The hunger for power was consuming him from head to toe.

As the Prince Regent, he practically had the throne to himself. He commanded and dismantled whoever he wanted. He made the main decisions. He could demand anything, and no matter how much the Small Council questioned and irritated him, it was Aemond who had the last word. He was running the war now.

Aemond had the commoners and Lords at his feet and was also and the fear that his family felt of him. Nothing was missing in his life for now. But his brilliant mind thought far ahead of the present time. Aemond Targaryen was not just cunning and greedy. He had an incredible sense of strategy and an incredible ability to manipulate all situations.

Now that part of his revenge against Aegon was already done, he needed to focus on the present and the future, leaving the outrages of his childhood aside for a few moments.

He was the Prince Regent, perhaps the future Lord of the Seven Kingdoms if Aegon's body finally decided to give in to suffering after the severe burns.

Aemond could be the new successor to the Iron Throne very soon. And a King was nothing without an heir.

Aemond had not known you for a long time. When his uncle, Gwayne Hightower, came to King's Landing to join Aegon's army in battle, you came along with him. Aemond did not like the idea of having another noble Lady in the castle. Alicent was already a pain in the ass since he kicked her out of the Council, Helaena was being useless since Jaehaerys' murder and little Jaehaera was just a silly child. He was afraid that you would irritate his patience just like his family's women did.

However, you were too focused on worrying about your husband's safety and praying for him in the Sept along with Alicent. Aemond often found himself thinking about you more than he wanted to. The way you sighed by frustration every time Gwayne left to solve some problem with the Royal Guard... Aemond could barely hide his smirk when he realized how neglected you felt.

If it was about someone else, Aemond would say that you were just spoiled needy whore and that his uncle was right to put the safety of his family first. If it was about anyone else, Aemond would never consider giving you what you seemed to want so much when you looked at Helaena playing with Jaehaera.

He needed an heir and you wanted a child to distract yourself from the neglected marriage. There would be no better deal than that.

That night, when Ser Gwayne Hightower left your chambers early because of a random emergency, the Prince Regent could not miss the opportunity to offer you a glass of wine to drown your suffering. At first, he started a brief and respectful conversation with you, noticing how your cheeks flushed as you drank the wine.

You were not used to drinking with any man other than Gwayne, much less your own nephew. Making criticisms about Gwayne to Aemond seemed too bitter and cruel. Gwayne did not deserve all that. He was a good husband, even if the focus of his life was not on your marriage.

When Aemond brought up the conversation about the absence of children in your lives, you immediately tried to change the subject, just saying that Gwayne did not want to have babies.

Aemond noticed how the subject bothered you. He noticed the way you curled up on the edge of the bed and tightened your grip on the glass. Before you could think of something less uncomfortable to talk about, Aemond took control of the situation, lying about Gwayne meeting a prostitute in one of the brothels on Street of Silk.

At first, you thought he was just joking. Afterwards, you thought the Prince was lying to mock you. But when Aemond kept coming up with false explanations, you finally gave in and believed what he was saying.

He served you another five glasses of wine, putting up with your crying and drunken outbursts. Until your body finally gives up and you fall asleep.

Aemond checked more than three times to see if your chamber's door was indeed locked. When he was sure that no one would come to interrupt anytime soon, Aemond moved to the edge of his bed, kneeling down and observing your drunk and sleepy figure. He looked at your rosy face from so much wine, as well as your reddish burgundy-stained lips.

He smirked as he ran his thumb over your cheek, the soft texture of your skin being one of the most delicious things his calloused fingers had the pleasure of touching. It was so different from the brothels prostitutes. It felt innocent and pure, even though you were married and no longer a maiden.

You still had enough innocence to be worthy of carrying the possible heir to the Iron Throne.

Aemond lifted your nightgown, hearing your confused and sleepy whimper as the soft satin fabric came off and exposed your skin to the light night breeze that came through the windows.

Your face moved to the side, your sleep becoming disturbed when Aemond ripped off your underwear. The sight of your bare thighs made him growl lowly, placing his large palms around your legs, spreading them apart so he could get a better look at your cunt, already so wet that it made your pubic hairs gleam even in the dark room, lit only by the candle flames.

The prince ran his thumb between your folds to collect your essence that was leaking from the little hole, moving his hand up so he could rub your bud. You contorted your body, your drunken state preventing you from waking up for now, but your legs still shook as Aemond's finger increased the pressure applied to your clit.

When your cunt was prepared enough to at least avoid so much pain, Aemond allowed himself to waste considerable time so he could take off all the pieces of clothing he was wearing, his cock already well marked in his braies. He swallowed hard for a moment, undoing the tie and lowering the fabric. After throwing it in any corner of the room, Aemond brought his hand to his mouth to spit on the palm and rub it on his own cock, sighing at the sensation and paying special attention to the pink glans.

He rubbed himself a few times until he was hard enough, then used his free hand to spread your legs even wider. His thumb made gentle circles on your clit again, as he slowly leaned in, entering your tight cunt and letting out a growl at the overwhelming sensation.

"Fuck..." He bit his lip, arching his head up and with his eye closed, resting one hand on your waist and the other remaining caressing your bud.

It took his thick cock a few seconds to fully enter your tight walls, blood dripping from his bottom lip as he bit down to avoid too many sounds, even though your confused whimpers were starting to fill the chambers. “A-Aemond…” You opened your eyes, your vision blurred when you tried to sit up, but too weak to do anything as he thrust into you.

"Shhh, dear aunt..." He opened his one eye, giving you a breathless smirk, rubbing your pearl roughly enough to make you moan with a mixture of fear and pleasure. Gwayne had not given you enough attention during the past months, your body was desperate for any good feeling now. "Am I not making you feel good?"

You fell silent, pathetic whimpers escaping your mouth. You wanted to lie that it was not good, that you were hating it and feeling violated. That he should not do these things. That you loved your husband more than anything in the world. But what would be the point? Aemond had given you absolute certainty that Gwayne was having affairs with random women. That would explain a lot of things, including the lack of sex in your marriage since then.

Your brain was too drunk to reason what made sense and what did not, so you just nodded, affirming the pleasure he was giving you.

"Good girl... Tightening my cock with that pretty tight cunt of yours." The prince smiled with an almost sweet and affectionate way and you blushed innocently, vulnerable from the alcohol. "Do you want to continue, darling?"

You should say no. You should scream with panic for the guards to come and save you, even if no one would go against the Prince Regent's wishes. However, you should try anything to get him out of you, try anything to stop him from contaminating you. You should try to say no, but you don't want to.

"Please, nephew. Keep going..." You whimpered, your hands shaking from the drink going to his muscular shoulders and bringing him closer to you, the head of his cock hitting you deep.

Aemond chuckled at how easily you gave in, every glass of wine being worth it. You moaned beneath him like a dirty whore, but you were still as beautiful and pure like a Goddess, your cheeks flushed, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, your legs shaking... "Oh, my dear... It looks like you really want to keep going." He scoffed and you nodded silently, closing your eyes as the rhythm of his hips began to become more violent. "How about if I give you a little baby? Did you want that, aunt? To carry my heir? To finally be a mother?"

Watching you nodding with confusion and moaning his name was all Aemond needed to fill you with his seed, his cum staining your thighs as he continued fucking you even after his orgasm. He would deal with Gwayne Hightower's fate later. He was the Prince Regent, he could fake an accidental death for his uncle and marry his wife before your belly started to get big and swollen with his baby. Aemond had time to think about what to do. At the moment, all he needed was to make sure your cunt did not waste a single drop of his seed. All he needed was to make sure you were pregnant that night.

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[seumyo]

I WANT TO BE FOREVER YOUNG

PROMPT. How they mourn when you were gone too soon. You did worry about getting old, didn’t you?

FEATURING. Midoriya I., Bakugou K., Todoroki S., Shinsou H.

NOTE. I’m testing the waters with angst content + formatting style for multiple drabbles—so forgive me if it’s not that good!

MIDORIYA IZUKU — Sees you in someone else.

Midoriya Izuku found passion in teaching. It’s a life-changing job that molds each and every student into the person they want to become with the help of people like him.

His students, vibrant and full of life, were so much like his old classmates—and among them was Takashiro Ayane, her laughter light and melodic as she teased one of her friends about their clumsy landing during training.

It reminded him of someone. Someone close.

You.

And the thought always came to him, even when he didn’t mean to. Even at the most random times.

Ayane’s resemblance to you was uncanny. It wasn’t just her kindness or the gentle way she spoke; it was in the way she held herself, her subtle but unwavering resolve. Midoriya could see flashes of you in her—the friend who had once been a constant source of warmth in his turbulent journey at U.A. High.

As Ayane reached up to adjust her headband, smiling brightly, Midoriya felt a pang in his chest. The sight was like a memory brought to life, a reminder of your soft-spoken encouragement and the way she always stood firm despite her fears.

God, it felt like seeing you all over again.

“Sensei!” another student called out, pulling him back to the present. “Did you see that move? I think it might actually work in combat! Or support, if I feel like it.”

Midoriya blinked, shaking off the haze of memories. “Y-Yeah, it looked great!” he replied, mustering enthusiasm. “Your timing’s improving a lot—keep it up!”

He tried to push the thought aside, focusing on the here and now, but it was no use. The resemblance was too striking, and his heart felt heavy with the weight of unspoken grief. You were gone, after all. Gone too soon.

As the students broke into laughter again, something about the carefree sound and the dynamic of his students triggered a reflex. Without thinking, he spoke, his voice soft yet audible enough to be heard.

“[First Name], I—”

Your name left his lips before he realized it, and the world seemed to freeze. The students fell silent, their laughter replaced by curious stares. Ayane tilted her head; confusion could be seen in her face.

Midoriya’s heart sank as he realized his mistake. He quickly forced a smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I mean Takashiro,” he corrected, craning a hand to the back of his neck.

“Sorry about that. Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

The students exchanged glances, a few offering polite chuckles before moving on. The moment passed, yet for Midoriya, the weight of it lingered. He stayed behind as the students began their walk back to the main building, his gaze fixed on the ground.

Everything came flooding in his mind. Like a relentless tide that swept him away. Your jokes, your laugh, and the countless little moments that had defined your friendship.

He hadn’t spoken your name aloud in years, not since your passing. Now, saying it felt like reopening an old wound, one he had carefully avoided for so long. But he could only do so much avoidance ‘til he has to terms with it.

“Sensei?”

The gentle voice startled him, and he looked up to see Ayane standing a few steps away. Her expression was concerned; her head tilted slightly as she studied him.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly. “You seemed... distracted earlier.”

Midoriya hesitated. The words caught in his throat as he wrestled with how to respond. How could he explain to his student that she reminded him of his dead friend?

What kind of teacher would he be if he were to say that? The awful, grieving kind, he bets.

“I’m fine, Takashiro,” he said finally, forcing a smile. “Just a little tired, that’s all. You know how these long training sessions can be.”

She didn’t look entirely convinced but nodded anyway. “If you ever need to talk, Sensei... we’re here for you too. Fighting!”

“Midoriya, grow a spine! Fighting!”

Her words hit too close to home.

“Thank you,” he could only murmur.

Ayane lingered for a moment before turning to join her classmates. He remained there, rooted to the spot as the sun began to dip lower in the sky. The golden light bathed the empty training grounds, and the silence felt heavier than usual.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve tried to move on, but I see you everywhere. In everything. In everyone.”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, a mix of regret and longing washing over him. “You were right about so many things,” he continued, his voice barely audible. “I just wish you were here to see it—to see how far we’ve all come.”

But you weren’t here anymore, and that’s the problem.

Bakugou Katsuki — Mourns you longer than he’d known you.

Cemeteries never brought discomfort to Bakugou. Not until you died, that is.

The place stretches out in solemn silence; the faint rustle of leaves in the hedges are the only sounds he heard as he trudged along the familiar gravel path. His boots made dull, deliberate crunches against the fallen leaves, the heaviness of his steps matching the weight in his chest.

In his hands, he carried the usual offerings: a bouquet of red spider lilies tied neatly with a ribbon, a box of your favorite sweet treats—melon pan today—and the incense sticks he always lit with care. It had been years since your passing, but for Bakugou, the loss felt as raw as if it had been yesterday.

He approached your gravestone, its surface polished and pristine, just as he always left it. Your name was etched into the stone with delicate precision, the sight of it both grounding and crushing. As if to remind him that you weren’t coming back because you’re just here, waiting for someone to visit you.

Bakugou knelt, his movements stiff and reluctant, as though even now he couldn’t fully accept your absence. Why can’t he accept it?

“Yo, dummy,” he muttered under his breath, pulling the lilies from their wrapping and placing them carefully at the vase near the gravestone. He adjusted them twice, three times, until they looked just right. His eyes lingered on the name etched into the cold stone, a bitterness creeping into his tone.

“Brought your damn flowers again. Hope you appreciate it.”

The sarcasm in his words was thinly veiled; beneath it lay the unmistakable ache of someone who had loved and lost far too deeply.

He pulled out the incense sticks next, lighting them with a practiced flick beneath his palm. You would’ve loved to see him do it in person; maybe light up a candle or two when the power goes out during your high school dorm days. The smell of sandalwood quickly mingled with the damp earth, and Bakugou leaned back on his heels, staring at the curling smoke.

“Another week down,” he began, his voice quieter now. “Another round of saving people, making headlines, being the ‘Great Dynamight.’ ” He spat the title out like it was poison.

“It’s what you always said I’d do, isn’t it? Go big; make my mark. But, damn it, [Last Name], none of it means anything without you here to see it.”

He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as the familiar wave of guilt and frustration washed over him. His head dipped as he let out a long, ragged breath.

“I thought time was supposed to make this easier,” Bakugou admitted, his voice rough. “It’s been... what? Seven years now? And every damn day, it still feels like you’re just gonna show up out of nowhere, like you’re gonna annoy the hell outta me with one of your stupid jokes.”

The thought made his lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile, though it was laced with sadness. He could almost hear your voice—that gentle yet persistent tone you’d use whenever she tried to drag him along to something.

“C’mon, Bakugou, I’ll need someone to bail me out of jail! You’ll regret it if you don’t come along.”

And you were right. He regretted it now. Every single refusal, every grumbled excuse, every moment he could’ve spent with you and didn’t.

“You were annoying as hell,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “But you were... you were good. Too good.” His fists loosened, his hands falling limply to his sides.

“And you didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to go like that.” Bakugou remembers the time he almost stained his conduct by almost killing the villain that got to you.

It’s unfair, isn’t it? The villain got to live behind bars, while you lost yours.

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves in the trees above. Bakugou tilted his head back, glaring up at the overcast sky as though it were to blame for everything.

“They don’t tell you how much it fucking hurts,” he said bitterly. “To lose someone like you. They don’t tell you that the longer it’s been, the harder it gets, ‘cause every year just reminds me of how much more I’ve missed. How much quicker I could’ve been.”

He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small, weathered notebook. It was yours, something your family had found amongst your belongings after you passed. They wanted him to have it since his name was always frequently mentioned. The edges were frayed, the pages creased from countless readings, but it was his most treasured possession.

Bakugou would rather die than even let a single drop of water meet one of its pages.

Flipping it open, he scanned your handwriting, some neat and some looking as though you couldn’t be bothered with basic penmanship. He stopped on a page that always gutted him.

Life’s short. Spend it with the people who matter. Don’t let moments slip away! :P

His thumb brushed over the words, his jaw tightening.

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed. “You don’t have to keep reminding me, you know. I get it. Too late, but I get it.”

He placed the notebook on the gravestone, letting it rest there for a moment before tucking it back into his pocket. His hand lingered on the cold stone, his fingers tracing the engraved letters of your name.

“You were supposed to stick around,” he said softly. “Supposed to keep bugging me, keep dragging me out of my own damn head. Now I’m stuck here, talking to a rock, and it’s not the same. It’ll never be the same.”

The clouds began to part, a faint beam of sunlight breaking through and casting a soft glow over the gravestone. Bakugou stared at it, his eyes unreadable. He’s thinking.

“I’ll keep coming back,” he finally said, his voice steadier now.

“Every week, every month, every damn year. You’re not gonna be forgotten. Not by me.”

He stood slowly, his body heavy with exhaustion and grief. Adjusting the incense sticks and flowers one last time, he stepped back, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“See you next time, dummy,” he murmured, his voice low. “Don’t forget about me or whatever, whever you are.”

As Bakugou walked away, the wind carried the faint scent of incense and the quiet promise of a man who would mourn you longer than he’d ever known you.

TODOROKI SHOUTO — Learns things that reminded him of you.

Todoroki knows that he’s been busy. It’s in the way the white camellias he brought you months ago are now wilted, showing their dried-up state. His fingers brush against the wilted petals, lingering as if to apologize for not visiting sooner.

“I still remember the last thing you said to me,” he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with an ache he couldn’t quite put into words. “It wasn’t even anything serious—just you scolding me for not eating enough during lunch. You were always so good at taking care of me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

He glanced down, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint, bittersweet smile. The image of you—scolding, your hands on your hips as you tried to hide your worry—was etched so vividly into his memory that he could almost hear your voice.

Todoroki’s gaze traveled to the offerings he had brought with him: a fresh bouquet of camellia, a neatly folded scarf he had knitted in one of his new hobbies that he took up classes for, and a small pack of your favorite matcha-flavored sweets. “I know you’d laugh at me for picking up knitting,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But... it’s calming. I think you’d appreciate that. You always said I needed to find something that made me happy outside of being a hero.”

The scarf was simple, a pale green color that reminded him of the shade you loved wearing. He had spent hours perfecting it, thinking of how you might have joked about him for being so precise yet ultimately praised his effort.

“I hope you’d like it,” he whispered, setting it down carefully beside the gravestone. “I thought about giving it to someone else, but it felt wrong. It’s yours.”

Todoroki draws in a breath, closing his eyes, letting the stillness of the place envelop him. Yet in the quiet, his mind raced with so many thoughts all at once.

“I also learned how to cook,” he tells you—he tells your grave. “It’s not as good as yours, but Bakugou’s been helping.”

He thought of your childhood, how you had been his only light during the dark days of his father’s strict training. How you had been this bubbly girl that the teacher often praised, how you had stood by him when he was still new to making friends at the nursery, offering him a hand when he thought he didn’t deserve one.

“You were the best person I knew. And I pushed you away. You didn’t deserve that, [Last Name]. You were my friend when I didn’t know how to be one back.”

The pain of those words hung heavy in the air, and Todoroki’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. He had spent years replaying your interactions, wishing he had done things differently. If he had done things differently, you would’ve been here, probably teasing him for taking up chopstick-making classes.

“I was so angry back then,” he confessed, his gaze fixed on the gravestone. “At my father, at myself, at the world. And I took it out on you, the one person who never stopped trying to help me. I told myself I didn’t need anyone, but... I needed you.”

Another tear slipped down his cheek, and he hastily wiped it away, frustrated by the way his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He was the Number Two Hero now, a symbol of strength and perseverance. Yet here, in front of you, he felt like the lost, broken little boy that longed for his first friend.

“I need you now, please.”

The sound of a bird chirping nearby pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced up at the sky. The sun was setting, casting a hue that reminded him of your warmth.

You did like sunsets, didn’t you?

“You’d probably scold me for crying,” he said with a faint chuckle, though his voice still wavered. “You always hated seeing me upset. But I think it’s okay this time. You’re worth crying over.”

He knelt down again, his fingers brushing over the engraved letters of your name.

“Shoucchan! You can’t cry! We can be partners—the best partners!”

Yes, partners. The best partners for as long as you’ll have him.

“I’m trying to live the way you wanted me to,” he continued. “To find happiness outside of being a hero. To be someone you’d be proud of. But it’s hard, [Last Name]. It’s hard without you.”

He stayed there for what felt like hours, speaking to you as though you were sitting beside him, as though your gentle presence could somehow reach across the veil of death. He told you about his hero work, about the classes he was taking, about the little moments of joy he tried to find in a life that often felt too heavy.

Finally, as the sun dipped below the horizon, he rose to his feet. His knees ached from kneeling for so long, but he barely noticed.

“I’ll come back,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the tears that still shimmered in his eyes. “And I won’t let you wait so long again. Next time, I’ll bring something better than just a flower. Maybe one of those awful paintings you always said I should make.”

As he turned to leave, he hesitated, glancing back at the gravestone one last time. As if you’d be there with open arms, waiting for him.

“Thank you,” he whispered, the words carrying a weight that only you could understand.

He walked away slowly, the sound of his footsteps fading into the stillness. The cemetery grew quiet once more, the only reminder of his visit the small offerings left behind—silent testaments to a bond that even death could not sever.

SHINSOU HITOSHI — Avoidance by all means necessary, until he finally caves in.

If you were to ask Shinsou what his prized possession was, he’ll tell you that it’s a shoe box. A shoe box that seemed to hold the world—your world, with remnants of a friendship that had lasted his entire life—a lifetime with you.

Shinsou sat on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands hovering over the box as though touching it might shatter him. He had been avoiding this moment for weeks. The funeral had been a blur, the condolences—a cacophony of words that didn’t mean anything because he knew that they couldn’t possibly understand how it feels. Everyone seemed to know the right things to say, except him.

All he had wanted was for you to be there, to laugh at how awkward he was with the whole ordeal.

Now, it was just silence.

With a deep breath, he finally reached into the box, pulling out the first item: a knitted scarf, a rich shade of violet. It was slightly uneven, the handiwork amateur at best, but it was one of the first gifts you’d ever made for him. He could still remember your smile when you handed it over during your middle school years.

“I thought it’d look good on you,” you had said, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Don’t laugh! It’s my first try. Nuh uh, I’m taking this back—Hitoshi!”

He hadn’t laughed. Ok, maybe just a quiet chuckle, but he had worn it every winter since.

He leaned forward again, staring into the box. Inside were the tokens of a life intertwined with his—handmade crafts, small souvenirs, and letters tied with ribbons in colors you knew he liked. Each item was a story, a piece of you you had given him, never expecting you would be taken away so soon.

He gently picked up a small ceramic cat figurine, its paint slightly chipped. It was from one of your family trips abroad.

“I saw this and thought of you!”

Younger Shinsou blinked, confused.

“Me?”

You nodded. “You’re like this cat. All serious, but secretly soft and comforting.”

Shinsou chuckled softly at the memory, though the sound was tinged with sadness. He had teased you for it back then, calling it tacky, but it had ended up on his desk at home. Now, it felt like a sacred relic.

Setting the figurine down, he reached for another item. Shinsou pulled out a small, framed photo of the two of you at a summer festival. He was scowling at the camera while you grinned beside him, holding up two sticks of cotton candy. It was one of the rare times you had dragged him out, insisting he needed to “experience life beyond his walls” when he just wanted to sleep in.

He’d go to every summer festival in the country—even if it meant losing sleep—as long as he gets to do it with you.

The frame trembled slightly in his grip as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

He pulls out a well-worn journal. It was yours. He hesitated, knowing that opening it would feel both comforting and unbearably painful. After a moment, he gave in, flipping through the pages.

Inside were your thoughts—notes about school, sketches of the two of them, and half-finished poems you had written during quiet afternoons.

The prince has been so stressed lately.

I wish I could take it all away.

He deserves the world, but he won’t let himself believe it.

Maybe one day he’ll see himself the way I do.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. You had always been like that—putting everyone else first, even when you had your own struggles. He closed the journal and held it to his chest, his breath shaky.

“I should’ve told you,” he whispered. “I should’ve told you how much you meant to me.”

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally spilled over, sliding down his cheeks as he sat there in the coming twilight. He thought back to the nights they had spent stargazing, sharing their dreams and fears. You had been his constant, his answer, his light, even when he didn’t know he needed one.

His phone buzzed again, a reminder that the world kept moving even when his had stopped. He glanced at the screen—it was a message from his secretary.

Meeting tomorrow at 9, Sir. You told me to remind you.

Shinsou scoffed bitterly, tossing the phone aside. Work didn’t matter right now. Nothing did.

He looked back into the box and pulled out a small, intricately folded paper crane. He had almost forgotten about it. It was from your high school years, during a particularly tough exam season.

“This is for luck,” you had said, carefully handing it to him with an awed expression. “And if it doesn’t work, at least it’s cute, right?”

He remembered stuffing it into his pocket, too embarrassed to admit how much it meant to him at the time. Now, it felt like a lifeline.

As he unfolded the crane carefully, a note inside revealed itself. The ink was slightly faded, but your handwriting was unmistakable.

You’re going to be amazing. Always.

A choked sob escaped him, and he clenched the note tightly in his fist. You had believed in him, even when he hadn’t believed in himself. He wished he could’ve seen this sooner.

When it got dark, Shinsou didn’t bother turning on the lights. The silence felt appropriate—a space for his grief to exist without judgment.

“I miss you,” he confessed, his voice trembling. “I don’t even know how to keep going without you.”

He glanced at the small collection of gifts and letters spread out on the table. Each one was a reminder of the life you two had shared—a life you had enriched with your thoughtfulness and love.

Though the pain was overwhelming, Shinsou knew he couldn’t let your memory fade. You had given him so much, and the least he could do was honor you by living the way you would have wanted—fully and without regret.

“I’ll keep going,” he said softly, almost as if speaking to you. “You’d probably get mad if I slept in.”

The room remained quiet, save for the faint sound of the wind outside. But for Shinsou, it felt as though you were still there, your presence lingering in every corner of his heart.

SEUMYO © 2025, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[tokeposts]

all this time | touya todoroki

pairing. touya todoroki x gn!reader

genre. fluff, longing, mutual pining, high school to college au, kinda childhood freinds, no quirks au

notes. heavily inspired by more than friends by quin xcii. also merry christmas here's loser boy touya idk 😭

1k | Meeting Touya at a party years after high school was purely chance, but everything that followed afterwards seemed like fate.

back | masterlist | next

The party is in full swing, music pulsing through the house as people move about with drinks in hand, random laughter and voices mingling with the thrum of the bass. Touya stands alone in the kitchen, nursing a half-empty Solo cup, the condensation cool against his fingers. He leans against the counter, his usual smirk nowhere to be found, replaced by a frown tugging at his lips.

His thoughts are hazy— a combination of alcohol and something sharper, something harder to ignore. It’s not just the drinks making him feel this way.

No, you slip in a while ago, a quiet commotion in your own right. The way you carry yourself— effortless, magnetic— still turns heads, still commands attention without even trying. Your laugh floats above the music, light and easy, a stark contrast to the thorns tightening around his throat.

It’s been years. Years. He’s 23 now, for god’s sake, and yet in this moment, he feels like the awkward high schooler he used to be, fumbling for words he never had the courage to say. Seeing you again has him spiraling, a strange mix of nerves and longing crashing into him. It makes his throat tight and his chest ache.

Back then, he’d heard the rumors— people whispered that you might have liked him. He hadn’t believed them, of course. How could you, of all people, be interested in him? The boy who stuck to his close-knit group of misfits, spent Friday nights dying his hair and practicing his eyeliner.

And yet… there had been moments. Moments that felt like more than coincidence. Lingering glances across crowded hallways. The brush of your hand against his during group projects. The way your voice softened, just slightly, whenever you said his name. He should’ve known. Secretly, he had hoped.

But he’d convinced himself it was all in his head.

And then came that night.

It was the final hoorah as seniors— the last chance to say goodbye before everyone went their separate ways. The loud music thumped, red Solo cups were passed around, and somehow, the two of you found yourselves in a quiet corner of the house. He remembers the eye contact, the soft laughter, how you’d smile at every sarcastic remark he made, only to shoot back with a clever retort of your own.

Then, you grinned, wrapping your hand in his and leading him upstairs. Standing in the doorway of some random bedroom, you locked eyes with him. There was no mistaking the look in your gaze: the smirk, thick with unspoken tension— an invitation meant only for him.

In that moment, everything clicked into place. The ‘subtle’ compliments about his eyes, the way you’d let only him copy your homework, the invites to join you on the rooftop for lunch.

You felt it too.

And it made him want to throw up. No— he didn’t follow. Instead, he stayed behind, heart pounding in his chest, convincing himself to walk away from what might have been his only real chance.

And by the time Toga had finally talked some sense into him, you were gone.

“Touya?” Your voice pulls him back to the present. “Wow, it’s been so long.”

You stand in front of him, a small smile tugging at your lips, teasing yet familiar. The years have only made you more captivating, and he hates how easily you can disarm him.

“You here alone?” you tease, tilting your head. You busy yourself by opening the fridge, lazily scanning the contents inside. No shocker that it’s filled to the brim with cheap booze. The fridge light frames your features perfectly, and for a second, his brain goes blank. “Didn’t peg you for the party type.”

He shakes his head and chuckles, trying to shake off the weight of his memories. “Yeah, Keigo’s here… somewhere.”

He swishes his cup again, looking anywhere but in your eyes. You lean in, your voice dropping to a low murmur. “Keigo.”

He doesn’t like how the name rolls off your tongue so easily. He hates even more when your lips curl into a knowing grin. “Oh, the blond one, right? Captain of the hockey team?”

Touya nods, not wanting to test his luck by speaking. No, he’s too afraid he’ll give everything away. That somehow, you could just tell he’s simmering in self-pity, just by speaking.

You always had a way of simply knowing him, after all.

There’s a moment of silence. His blue eyes dart anywhere but at you. It’s so unlike him that you chuckle, dry and tense. The Touya you remember was quite the chatterbox, never hesitating to let his opinions be known, especially about things he was truly passionate about. The soft sound makes him sigh and clutch his drink even tighter—out of nervousness, maybe? He doesn’t know.

You sigh. “Y’know, you’ve been staring at me all night.”

Touya’s breath hitches. It’s been years. You’ve changed in all the places that matter— your smile brighter, your words bolder. Six fucking years, and you seem like an entirely different person. He chuckles.

This is it.

Another chance.

“Been thinking about stuff,” he admits, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “’Bout some things back in high school.”

Your eyes search his, the playful edge fading. “That so?”

“Yeah,” he mutters, dragging a shaky hand through his hair. “I should’ve… I should’ve gone with you back then.” His voice cracks, mentally cursing the alcohol. If you noticed his nerves, you’re doing a damn good job at hiding it. He clears his throat, swishing his drink once more. “I knew what you wanted, but I convinced myself that you couldn’t possibly…”

You’re quiet for a moment, then smile—a real, genuine smile. “Well,” you say, stepping closer, “you’re not in high school anymore, Touya.”

His pulse quickens as your hand brushes against his, your fingers lightly tracing the back of his hand. He remembers the party when you were seniors—deja vu.

“No,” he murmurs, his voice steady now. “We’re not.”

The tension between you crackles, years of unspoken words and missed chances hanging in the air. This time, he’s not going to run. You’ve changed, and so has he.

“Come with me,” you say, your tone leaving no room for argument.

And for once, he didn’t hesitate.

taglist: @commonmisery @nobodybutnnoorr @jastoo46 @jkovlr @bun-raine @beckixwsm

[f1fnatic]

LIAR ⤿ c. sainz 55

→ ( in which. . . ) you and carlos have been dating for three years. carlos started to grow distant. after charles shows you a picture of his infidelity, you catch him in the act after a day at work.

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) written

→ ( pairing. . . ) cheater!carlos sainz x longtime!girlfriend!reader

→ (content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) mentions of sex, language, yelling, cheating, alcohol consumption, angst

→ ( author's note. . . ) this was my first time writing angst/cheating. it was fun experimenting with this type of writing. i hope you enjoy! see end for more.

→ ( masterlist )

"you fucking liar!" echoed through the otherwise quiet apartment. hurried footsteps sounded from the hallway, another pair following the first close behind. was this what everything came to? walking out on your supposed soulmate after years together? how did you get here? and what did you do to deserve this?

one week prior ↴

you had noticed the distance growing. carlos was becoming closed off and almost secretive. he didn't confide in you as much as he used to. you didn't think twice about it and assumed it was something to do with work. ferrari had been going through a rough patch, both him and charles struggling to start or finish a race for the past three weeks.

you understood how stressful being a driver was. you had been around formula 1 for a while now, because of him. you and carlos met when he drove for redbull, in 2015. the two of you started dating shortly after in 2017.

you were always there for him, through thick and thin. through the blood, sweat, and tears. after every win, podium, loss, dnf, dns, etc. you understood how hard it was for him to perform well but not get the results wanted.

so, when you received a picture of carlos with another woman, a blond, on his lap, hands on his shoulders and lips touching, you were livid. charles had sent it to you, with a simple caption that read "i am sorry." it was the after-party of a not-so-successful qatar grand prix.

rage, confusion, sadness, and disgust coursed through your veins. the thought of him finding comfort in a woman who wasn't you made you sick. your hands shook, eyes blurred, and breath quickened.

you could not believe that carlos would ever cheat, especially on you. you had given him everything. love, attention, comfort, and compassion. and this is what he gave you in return? you had sacrificed so much to make him happy. you felt useless. had you thrown away six years of your life just to get cheated on? did he feel guilty? did he regret his choice to kiss a random girl? thoughts sped through your mind.

what did you do until he got home? your apartment no longer felt like a home. it felt gross and unnatural to be in there. to think that the person you shared it with was sharing a different room across the world. did he share your bed with someone else as well? the pictures of the two of you that hung on the wall seemed to mock you.

every passing minute became more and more painful. could you act like everything was fine when he eventually did get home? or would you lose it immediately the second he walked in through the front door?

unfortunately, you knew that only time would tell.

present day ↴

today was the day that carlos got home. you were at work, trying to distract yourself from the inevitable conflict about to occur. you reached the front door of your shared apartment. shaking hands held the key and you placed it in the lock and turned it. pushing open the door, the apartment was quiet, suspiciously quiet.

you noticed that the kitchen was a mess. plates and cooking utensils were in the sink, dirty and waiting to be washed. two wine glasses left discarded on the quartz bar. a bottle of red cabernet left opened and almost empty. one of the glasses had lipstick stains littered around the rim.

your heartbeat quickened. adrenaline began to pump through your body. you quickly toed off your shoes, and your feet ached after a long day. you also discarded your purse and jacket, making your way to your and carlos' bedroom.

as you got closer, you heard moaning. your heart dropped to your stomach. you opened the door as soon as you reached it. low and behold, it was carlos and the same blond from the picture that charles sent you. the blond was on top of carlos, head back and mouth open in euphoria. carlos had the same expression as her on his face.

tears immediately welled in your eyes and quickly fell. you felt defeated. it was one thing to see a picture of your boyfriend kissing another girl, but to catch him with that same girl in the bed that you shared, in the same bed that he fucked you in, was different.

finally, carlos opened his eyes and noticed you in the doorway. his hands found the blond's hips to stop her from moving. his eyes widened with guilt and surprise; mouth wide open in shock.

"y-y/n?!" he shouted. the blond turned to look at you and god, she was pretty. you partially understood why he did it. she covered herself with one of the loose sheets and unstrattled carlos, allowing him to get up.

"y/n, i can explain-" he starts.

"explain what, carlos?!" you shout, cutting him off. "how on earth can you explain me walking in on you fucking another girl in our bed?!"

"it was a simple mistake, mi amor, that's all." he tried to reason, smiling meekly. the nickname that once held so much love now held nothing. the name that made butterflies flutter in your stomach now made them sink.

"you fucking liar!" you screamed. "this was on purpose!" it echoed through the now quiet apartment. you turned your back on the pair and walked away. your hurried footsteps sounded from the hallway, carlos' pair following yours closely behind.

"y/n, stop!" he yelled, grabbing your wrist and turning you around to face him.

"do not fucking touch me!" you say, yanking your wrist from his grip. the complete and utter audacity he had to try to attempt to explain why he cheated. "was i not enough for you? did i do something wrong? did i not fuck you the right way? did i not get you off fast enough? huh, carlos? what made you decide to throw away six years together huh? six fucking years!"

carlos stares at you, his brown eyes that you thought were breathtaking were now filling you with disdain. "tell me carlos!"

"i-i don't know why," he stutters, turning his gaze to the floor, taking a sudden interest in the hardwood paneling. "you were enough, you still are enough. please y/n, we can move past this. i was drunk and stupid, my judgement was clouded." he tries to reason, reaching to grab both of your hands.

"no, stop it. no amount of time can get me to forgive you for this. i will never forgive you, carlos." you said his name with such disgust that he flinched. "charles showed me a picture of you kissing her in qatar in a bar during an after-party. i have known for a week. but to think that you would take her into our home and fuck her?"

"wait, wait, wait. charles texted you?" carlos questioned. there was anger present in his voice. "why the fuck did he text you?" it seemed that he was upset at the fact that charles told you he cheated.

i scoff, crossing my arms. "unbelievable, you are unbelievable. you cheated on me and you are caught up on the fact that your teammate texted me proof? how much of an egotistical cunt do you have to be?"

"me? i'm the unbelievable one? you're the one walking out on me because of a stupid, drunken mistake." he says nonchalantly, glossing over the insult. it's almost like he didn't care that your relationship was ending.

"fuck you, carlos. i am done. we are done. do not call me, do not try to find me to convince me to come back to you." the tears were flowing vigorously down your cheeks. you knew your makeup was running, but you didn't care. "i am fucking done. thanks for nothing. i hope have fun fucking that slut and that you are happy with the choice you made." you finish, walking away through the home that once brought you so much joy to be in.

you gathered your things. purse, shoes, phone, coat, and keys. you would get everything else later. you opened the door and then slammed it once stepping outside. it was then when every emotion hit you at once. violent sobs wracked your body making you shake. you slid down the door hugging yourself. you could not believe it. you don't know if you ever would.

after eventually calming down, you decide to call the one person who made you aware of this whole situation. you clicked on his contact's name and then the call button. you placed your phone on your ear to hear two rings before he picked up.

"hello? y/n? why are you calling." asked the voice.

"charles," you pause. the question of 'was this a good idea?' ran through your head. but, at this point you didn't care. carlos and what he thought was the least of your worries. "i need you to pick me up."

low key happy with this one, wrote it last night and like where it went. i think i might turn it into a charles x reader :P let me know in the comments if you want that :) thank you for reading! as usual, feedback and requests are welcome; make sure to leave a comment and kudos! (only if you want :P)

[sesshous]

how many geniuses does it take to realise his feelings aren’t just platonic? just one, but he needs to have some sense bonked into him certain architect [alhaitham x reader]

summary: alhaitham is oblivious to his feelings, kaveh smacks some sense into him

genre: fluff (no prns)

a/n: i love really intelligent men who are really dumb at feelings

dates between alhaitham and you were common.

… dates?

no, that’s what kaveh called alhaitham’s outings with you

and having to argue with tell kaveh time and time again that, no, the time you and him spend together is not ‘romantic’. it’s not a big deal and alhaitham doesn’t know why kaveh is making it one.

“why can’t you just admit that you have feelings for-”

“spending time with someone does not indicate romantic feelings.” 

“then how come you don’t go out of your way to spend time with anyone else? how about all the times tighnari, cyno and i have invited you out with us, but you never seem to want to join- and you know what? more than half the times we have to drag you out with us! would it kill you to at least try and become more sociable? all i’m saying is that…” kaveh rambling at this point, and truthfully all alhaitham wants is this conversation to be concluded.

“i simply don’t feel like going.”

“oh, but you’ll join a certain someone instead…”

alhaitham could argue that he technically does spend time with people. at work that is. having to go to meetings and having to receive paperwork from scholars and akademiya students counts as social interaction, but kaveh states that no, he’s not spending his free time with them, so that doesn’t count.

kaveh could argue that, well, who else does he always gets dinner with on the weekends? who else does he get presents for? who else does he willing go out of his way to help with no gain on his behalf?

alhaitham thinks it’s silly. getting dinner with you has become a part of his routine at this point (but he does like to hear about what you have gotten up to during the week.) 

and that jewellery set you took a liking too was a bit out of your price range (he thought the colour would look lovely on you). 

or using his own library card to borrow a book from the akademiya’s library that you wanted to read wasn’t an issue to him (now that he thinks about it, he should write you an authorisation pass to be able to use the library...)

“so you both think the time you spend together isn’t romantic?”

kaveh think’s this is the most surprised he has ever seen alhaitham been - eyes wide open and with no response to try and rebuttal against kaveh’s point, he can’t help but give alhaitham a knowing smirk as a ‘gotcha’ moment.

… did you view the time you and him spent together as romantic? alhaitham has never thought about that. and if you do, why haven’t you confessed yet? you’ve known each other for a long time, are you just too nervous? too shy? too scared of being rejected? you didn’t seem nervous around him, and you definitely weren't shy and if you confessed, alhaitham thinks he wouldn’t reject you-

oh.

oh.

alhaitham knows he’s smart, but for him to come to that realisation so late, he can’t help but be a little embarrassed.

and when he thinks about it, logically his feelings for you does make sense. 

who else leaves him random snacks with little motivational sticky notes in his office? (he really doesn’t do much hard work throughout the day, but he appreciates the gesture.) 

who else always brings him back little trinkets from their commissions? (he had to clear out a drawer in his room to make space. and yes, he has even kept all the ‘cool’ rocks you’ve given him.)

who else is get’s visibly happy when he comes into view? (even when just passing by, you never fail to give him a cheery smile with an overly-enthusiastic wave.)

it’s you.

it’s always you.

and while he dreads to admit it, kaveh is right for once.

he does like you. a bit more than he thought he did.

[mytaiyakeylover]

—𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

—ft: seishiro nagi x gn!reader, sae itoshi x gn!reader

—warnings: none, just some cursing on sae’s part.

𝚜𝚎𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚘 𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚒

seishiro is so lazy. the only time he ever decides to eat is whenever you agree to spoon-feed him. this boy is such a big baby, like, omg! he can't literally do anything without needing you to be there 25/8. and even then, he's not going to do much unless you put in just as much effort (if not more). don’t be mad! he just really enjoys being with you, and your presence is truly the only thing that can make this baby boy at least somewhat interested in whatever it is that you are doing. even in life-threatening situations like starvation.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Reo furrowed his eyebrows as he watched the white haired boy still very much occupied with the game in his hands. Seishiro hadn’t even glanced at his plate, let alone touched it.

“Come on, Nagi!” The boy exclaimed, his purple-colored eyes glaring at Nagi with a slight hint of annoyance. "We have practice today. You have to eat at least something," he added, feeling his left eyebrow twitch at the other’s response.

“But it’s such a hassle,” he mumbled, grayish eyes sparing one single glance at the food on his plate before going back to his game. The slightly shorter boy huffed at that. Sometimes he just couldn’t help but feel like he’s so done with this guy. Seishiro wasn’t exactly making things easier for him either, but he guessed it was a part of his charm.

Sighing dramatically, the boy with purple hair suddenly lifted himself from his seat and leaned slightly forward over the table. He took the other boy's knife and fork before cutting a piece of meat. However, it wasn't until a few seconds had passed that Seishiro finally acknowledged the food presented before him.

“Let me feed you, if you're going to continue being such a baby,” a pregnant pause soon followed as Reo muttered those words. Yet, instead of receiving the response that he’d been hoping for, it was one that almost made him scream at the top of his lungs.

“I want (Y/n)-chan to feed me.”

“Well, (Y/n)-chan is not here!”

𝚜𝚊𝚎 𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚜𝚑𝚒

this arrogant boy can’t physically stomach any food that has not been cooked by you and you alone. i swear! this has never been an issue before, until sae met you. now, he can't even distinguish between luxurious dishes and the ones that we ordinary humans eat. in his opinion, they all fall into the category of “peasant foods” and he will fr glare eye daggers at anyone who even dares to say otherwise.

“What the fuck is this?”

Ryusei stifled a laugh as he heard the boy from his right. His pink eyes observed the midfielder in amusement as the other boy stared at the food presented before him with nothing but pure disdain. The blonde and pink haired boy didn’t want to admit it, but a part of him was quite surprised as he thought those rumors about Sae being an abnormally picky eater were absolute bullshit.

Now it seemed they were not, because never had he ever seen the boy look at something with that much disgust. Not even at Ryusei himself.

“Something wrong?” The horny demon had the audacity to smirk as he feigned obliviousness. Sae narrowed his eyes dangerously at the other boy, right eyebrow twitching in annoyance. Sighing at Ryusei’s dumb antics, the reddish-brown haired boy pinched the bridge of his nose before sending the aforementioned an unimpressed look.

“I said: What the fuck is this?”

A sudden gasp escaped the tanned boy’s lips as he sent the other a look of bewilderment. “How can you not recognize the cooking of your oh so beloved s/o?”

“You’re telling me that (Y/n) was the one who made this disgusting, repulsive, nauseating, stomach-churning thing called food?”

There was a moment of silence, tension growing thicker by each passing second. The stare down between pink and teal so intense that random passers-by were too afraid to get caught in the crossfire to as much as walk past them.

However, as soon as the tension appeared, it quickly dissipated. Ryusei's expression exuded nothing but sheer brattiness, and Sae felt a strong headache coming on, anticipating where this was headed.

“Y’know, what you said just now really hurt my ego.”

[lemon-russ]

Your lion fic was beautiful. May I request more? Anything will do really. But here are my requests.

Lion angrily jerking it after experiencing one (1) emotion

Lion aggressively cuddling you. You're not hurt or sick or have lost feeling in your lower body temporarily, he just wants to be close to you. And be an ass about it.

You wear his legion colours/symbols and he gets really horny.

40k Lion reminiscing about an old lover from 30k (using that term loosely, they were probably just fuck buddies) and maybe they meet again in 40k. Let's say a perpetual reader.

Anyway these are just my brainworms. Feel free to ignore.

And yes, I am aware I have a thing for stoic men losing it and being absolute freaks. I am currently in search for a good therapist.

Sorry for the delay, but I feel adjacent to a human today, so I finally finished this! Also the way you presented it made me snort laugh haha, the kind message into "angrily jerking it" lmfao

Anyway here's The Lion straight jorkin' it (I like all your suggestions and might come back to the colors one especially!)

Tags: @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye @lisikk

Thanks @squishyowl for the dividers!

Lion El'Jonson X Fem!Reader

CW: Lion straight up jorkin' it. That's all.

Stupid woman, Lion thought, slamming his chamber doors closed.

He started angrily undoing the belt of his tunic as he marched to his bed, fingers frustratingly fumbling the latch in a hurry.

Stupid, infuriating woman.

Guilliman had sent a representative to give The Lion updates about some missions the Ultramarines had been on, just the average doldrum of war talk. But the representative he sent was his little Ambassador pet.

“My Lord?” You had said, looking up at him between explaining supply lines, “You seem very tired. Did you not rest well?”

He’d been shocked by the simple question. He had indeed been without a proper rest for a bit too long. But, no one ever asked such things about him. He was a god to most baselines, infallible and untiring, beyond mortal needs. But you spent a majority of your time around his brother, so of course you could read him better than a random serf could. And you’d been… concerned. For him.

“Wh- I…” he had stuttered, caught off guard. That annoyed him. Being flustered by a tiny baseline woman’s concern for him annoyed him. The pang of unnameable emotion that shot through him annoyed him. The sudden pulse of pressure below his stomach, especially annoyed him.

“Don’t be daft woman-” he had spat back. You’d just smiled softly at the verbal attack, soft eyes scanning his face, studying the circles forming under his eyes. Then for some warp damned reason, you had gone and made him a cup of recaff. You placed it in front of the flabbergasted Primarch and returned to explaining your papers like nothing had passed.

Stupid woman.

The minute you’d given him a quick aquillan salute and been on your way out the door, He had turned on his heel and stormed off to his quarters, leaving confused serfs in his wake as he pushed them aside, some even falling to the floor. “No one disturb me.” He had growled, stalling their pursuit of him.

He finally pulled his pants down, holding his tunic aside as he knelt on his bed. That feeling that you had invoked in him had shot right between his legs. The whole rest of the meeting, he was struggling to focus on anything but how hard you had made him.

He grasped himself, groaning at the friction at last as he stroked. Your image assaulted his mind. You leaning over the table just enough that he could see down the far too loose tunic dress you wore. He growled remembering that glimpse of your breasts, infuriatingly framed in ultramarine blue. It should have been HIS colors.

He grasped himself tighter as he assailed his aching cock, falling back on his pillows. It should be Dark Angels green you were in. No- it should be nothing at all. You should be naked in his bed. You should be panting in his lap-

His hips bucked himself fruitlessly into his hand at the image. Your sweet face, flush and gasping as you rode him. Did you look at Guilliman the way you’d looked up at him? Did you fetch him drinks when you noticed he was worn? The thought enraged The Lion. How dare you go back to the Macragge’s Honour, back to anywhere but his bed.

He gripped the sheets, yanking at his tunic as he frustratedly picked up speed, ignoring the slight soreness from his calloused palm attacking his cock without anything to help the friction. It wouldn’t be an issue if it was you on him instead. He bet you were plenty slick, and tight-

He felt his balls start to tighten, drawing in a hissing, ragged gasp through grit teeth. His bed creaked with the cadence of his hips jerking up into his fist. You should be here. You should be wrapped around him, holding on for your life as he used you like a cocksleeve- he imagined your small hands splayed over his stomach for balance, trying desperately to hold yourself down against his bouncing.

He fisted his cock faster, frustrated by the sub-par sensation of his own rough skin, barely slicked with his pre-cum as he drove himself forcefully toward an orgasm. He was frustrated he’d immediately given in to such base instincts. He was Frustrated you could drive him to this with one little question, with one sweet look.

His mind flooded with the image of you giving him that little smile, eyes soft and concerned in defiance of his sharp words-

He let out a snarl as the heat in him snapped, shooting his spend over his stomach in jerking pulses. A few more hard pumps on his cock drained him, shuddering and mind blank, before he collapsed back on the bed, legs shaking and ragged gasps wracking his lungs.

He lay panting, covered in his own seed, twitching his hips up in the aftershocks. This was your fault. You stupid, damnable woman.

He groaned and let his arm fall to his side as the sensations eased from his need-drunk mind.

He had a very stern demand to draft. If his brother wanted him to keep playing nice- which he had been, he’d been very cooperative he thought, he earned some credit- If Guilliman wanted Lion to keep his word about their plans and supplies and defenses-

Then the cost was merely one insignificant little diplomat woman.

[hopelessromantic5]

Merthur with King Arthur and pre-Court Sorcerer Merlin.

(Don’t worry though, when this is continued, he will be given his rightful place.

If I have to write it a thousand times, I will see Merlin get his happy ending, dammit.)

“Um. Merlin?”

The manservant had been daydreaming again.

It was honestly getting out of hand.

Two moons had passed since Merlin finally told Arthur about the magic.

It went better than expected.

A great deal better.

He didn’t even really seem surprised. If Merlin could count on himself as a reliable narrator of the story, he would say he saw relief flicker across Arthur’s face before he began asking questions. But Merlin was basically imploding on the inside and terrified that he was about to lose his best friend and his home in one fell swoop, so he might’ve imagined it.

Thankfully, Arthur seemed more anxious for answers than anything. He wanted to understand. After a week of catching him up on the last five years of their lives, magic included, Arthur seemed at peace with it.

A week later was when control began slipping from Merlin’s grasp, ever so slightly. Arthur came to him on a random day in the spring, and nonchalantly said he had some documents he’d like Merlin to read over. Make sure they were presentable for council.

Merlin thought nothing of it, he’d done it countless times thus far, and was secretly looking forward to proof reading speeches for the rest of his life.

You can imagine the shock when he approached the desk and found a repeal of the magic ban. Sitting there, in the sun, in Arthur’s perfect penmanship.

Merlin began weeping.

He could almost hear in his head,

“Don’t be a such a girl, Merlin.”

But it never came.

Instead, the King silently joined him by the desk, and embraced him, for maybe the second time in all of existence.

They hugged like they were trying to meld themselves together.

Arthur had one broad arm wrapped behind Merlin’s neck and the other locking him in by his lower back.

They were two pieces that somehow fit perfectly together.

Merlin hid his, probably unsightly, face in Arthur’s neck and willed the tears to stop themselves falling.

A few heartbeats later Arthur whispered,

“I’m so sorry, Merlin.”

Merlin involuntarily scrunched his eyebrows at that. Yet, he did not let go. He did not want to leave, not yet.

“Why are you apologizing?”

A whisper came back,

“I hate to see you cry.”

Merlin wished on every star in the heavens, that he could’ve seen Arthur, in that moment.

But he would not let go. Not until his King did.

At present, things were moving along very well with the repeal. Especially among the townspeople, who are more than welcoming towards the Kingdom’s new citizens.

However, Merlin found himself with a whole new set of challenges.

Merlin was definitely not staring at Arthur as he shuffled through reports at his desk. Though, the sun was casting the perfect halo on his blonde head. It painted a picture that was wholly ethereal, calming.

When Arthur looked up from his papers suddenly, Merlin went back to his polishing like he never stopped.

Because he didn’t, of course.

That would be inappropriate.

That’s when he heard,

“Um. Merlin?”

The raven boy’s head snapped up from the sword in his lap, and found amusement in his King’s eyes.

“What?” He was skeptical, narrowing his gaze.

“Are you planning on turning my chambers into the Royal Gardens or is this your only idea on how to spruce up the place?”

“What on Earth are you-“ spinning around in his chair, he finally saw it.

Vines wearing tiny purple flowers were slowly crawling their way up the bed-posts; bigger, colorful flowers were beginning to bloom from the cracks in the stone floor.

This is not good.

“Uh, I have to-“ he huffed, placing the sword in his seat and running for the door. “I need to go, sire.”

“Merlin, what are you-“

“I think I’m coming down with something. I’m just gonna go see Gaius about it.” Before he closed the door behind him he yelled “I’ll be back with dinner.”

And then he was gone.

[pattypanini]

Sam Kiszka x Reader  Temptations

Summary: After a concert with your shitty boyfriend, a trip backstage with Sam doesn't seem too bad?

Word Count: 7.5k

Taglist for Oneshots

A/N: First off, we are veryyyy sorry. Marley and I have had the busiest summers everrr. But we are back at school! Which means we can grind on this tumblr account again! We started this during the summer and just have now finished it, along with LAYLOM and many more one shots which we plan on posting. We hope you take this one shot as an apology. Expect more to come very soon!!!! Love, Sam and Marley <3

Warnings: 18+, Slight cheating (this will not be for everyone) SMUT, penetrative sex, fingering, degrading, hickeys, dirty talk, slight submissive/dom, flirting, slapping, mentions of pregnancy, slight coercion.

PRECEDE WITH CAUTION. THIS IS NOT FOR EVERYONE!

Y/N's POV

It was your boyfriend’s idea to go out tonight. He said something about “being in a new city and having to hit up all the hot spots”. But you couldn’t really care less. You were more excited about the concert you two would be attending tomorrow. But him being the sweetest boy he is, you caved and somehow ended up in this random bar in Charleston.

You are sitting beside your boyfriend, Lucas, at the barstools lining the bar sipping on a margarita. You fiddle with the hem of your floral sundress, just barely paying attention to Lucas’s aimless chatter. You weren’t bored per say, but you’d rather be cuddled up in the hotel room watching some cheesy movie. 

“You excited for the concert tomorrow?” Lucas asks after taking a sip of his beer, a smile plastered across his tanned face. He runs his hand through his chestnut hair, gorgeous blue eyes piercing right through you. Man, are you lucky. Even after a rocky year and a half this man still somehow manages to give you butterflies. 

“Of course I am. I have been looking forward to it for the past six months.” Six excruciatingly long months of waiting. You take another sip of your drink before continuing, “Thank you for buying the tickets, honey.” You smile at him, reaching your hand out to rub his arm.

He had purchased the tickets as an anniversary gift, and it was arguably one of the best presents you had ever received, seeing that most of his gifts were half-assed. He knew how much you loved Greta Van Fleet and was thoughtful enough to get tickets as soon as they went on sale. 

“Of course baby. Anything for the best girl in the world. I’m super pumped too ya know.” He lifts your hand off of his arm, bringing it to his mouth to place a light kiss on it. He places it back down on your thigh, his hand lingering on yours. 

You give him a look of warning, but he still proceeds trailing his hand up your inner thigh. 

“Lucas, come on. We’re in public, have some decency.” You peel his hand off of you, placing it back in his own lap. 

“Stop being such a bitch, can’t you ever have fun?” He snaps back with a roll of his eyes. 

You shrug off his hostile words, because it was nothing you weren’t used to. A few minutes pass by, neither of you talking to the other. 

You’re starting to get a little hungry, so you convince Lucas to order some appetizers. You both decide on some mozzarella sticks and fried pickles. As he is grabbing the bartender's attention, you hear the door open. 

It wasn’t a super busy bar, you always tried to find little hidden gems in the area and this was one of them. As the door opens, four very familiar looking men come walking through the door.

Holy shit. 

Greta Van Fleet is walking into the bar you are in, and no one even knows who they are. They make their way to the bar and not a single person bats an eye. You blink a few times just to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. Nope, not deceiving. 

You stare off into space, trying to stay calm about the situation at hand but you are quickly caught. 

“Y/n. Y/n? Are you listening?” Waving his hand in front of your face. 

You snap yourself out of your trance. “Yeah. Yeah, it's just uh… I think Greta Van Fleet just walked in.” His eyes widen as he whips around in the barstool to look over his shoulder. 

“That's definitely them babe, go over say something.”

“No no no, I am not doing that. They probably don’t want to be bothered” You shake your head. 

Lucas smiles at you, knowing how nervous you are just being in the same room as them.

“What if I go with you?” He reaches to his left, grabbing your hands in his. 

“Okay fine, but you have to stay with me.” You stand up from the bar seat, feeling as if you could fall over at any moment. Your shaky legs start making their way over to them, you can hear Lucas’s steps from behind you. 

They are within six feet now, your heart is pounding in your chest. Now or never. You decide to approach Sam first considering he looked to be the one least occupied. 

“Hey, you’re Sam from Greta Van Fleet.” Your mouth somehow forms the words. 

Sam turns towards you, giving you a slow look up and down before saying a thing, but his body said so much. “I am, you can call me Sammy though, beautiful. What’s your name?”

“Um, Y/n.” You were feeling your cheeks burn hotter and hotter with each second passing. Beautiful? What the actual fuck. 

“Ah, nice to meet you y/n, and what’s your brother's name?”

“Oh, uh, he’s my boyfriend. This is Lucas.” Lucas reaches his hand out to shake Sam’s, and Sam returns with a weak, uninterested shake back. 

“Ha, well I assumed you were related, seeing that you look similar.” You’ve never gotten that one before. “I mean you would have gotten the good genes if it was true.” What is up with this guy? 

“So are you from around here?” He looks directly at you, only wanting your answer.

“No, we're not, we're from Virginia. We’re just visiting for the concert actually.” You smile, feeling bashful that you’re talking to the Sam Kiszka right now.

“Ohh, that’s awesome. Hey boys, this lovely lady is going to be at our concert tomorrow.” He says to the rest of them, pointing at you. Lucas is still awkwardly standing behind you.

“How wonderful, where will you be sitting?” Josh asks, reaching out to softly shake your hand. 

“Well we won’t be on the floor, if it was up to me we would be but Lucas got the tickets for our anniversary. But we're still pretty close, on the left third row up.”

“Jeez man can’t even get her closer seats.” Sam says under his breath, which is quickly shut down when Jake elbows him for his spoiled behavior. 

Lucas just laughs at what he thinks is a joke. Poor boy, how stupid and clueless.

“Oh babe I think the appetizers are coming soon, I’ll go wait for them. As long as you are okay with that?” Lucas reaches for your hand, making sure you are calm and comfortable.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good I’ll be over soon.” You smile at him as he makes his way back over. Sam on the other hand was staring him down as he made his way back to the other side of the bar. 

You didn’t know what to say to any of them, you’ve dreamed of a moment like this but now that it’s actually happening you don’t know what to say. 

“Um, am I able to get a picture with all of you, this is like crazy to me.” They all nod and smile and you ask the bartender to take your picture. The boys push you to the middle, surrounding you. Sam stands directly to your left, and Jake to your right, while Josh and Danny stand on both ends. 

Jake places a hand on your shoulder, pulling you in. As the bartender is about to take the picture Sam places a hand around your waist, pulling you in his way. 

You feel a rush of butterflies fly through your stomach as you feel his fingers press harder into your side. After a few photos everyone disperses and takes their seat. You wanted to leave them be but also wanted to stay around a little longer. 

“Hey Sam, do you think I could get a photo with just you? I don’t like picking favorites but…,” you bring your hand up to his ear as if you were telling him a dirty little secret, whispering,” …you're definitely mine.” 

With a smirk plastered across his face he stands back up grabbing the phone and handing it to Josh. 

Just like before his large hands make its way back to the familiar spot it just was on. You lean into him, trying to look as natural as possible. After a short moment of Josh taking at least 20 photos he hands you back your phone, but Sam never lets you out of his grip. Instead he pulls you closer, his face next to your ear.

“I wanna see you after the concert tomorrow, got it?” You didn’t know what to say, you stared at him thinking that you misheard. “Now go back to your ‘boyfriend’ and let him think you're his for one more night.” Sam releases his grip, sending you off with a smile and wave.

What? Your mind was racing a million miles a minute, not sure what to think about everything that happened in the span of only 10 minutes. You shakily walk back over to Lucas where he and your appetizers were waiting. 

“So how was it? I know you didn’t want me to leave but you looked awfully comfortable over there.” Taking a bite of the mozzarella sticks, he's now scowling at you.

“It was awesome! I talked to all of them and got some pictures.” You pull your phone out showing him the group photo you took, leaving your one on one photo with Sam out of the conversation. 

“Wow that's so cool, babe.” He is barely listening, sounding like he's never been more bored in his life. 

“So cool,” you think in your head about how you want to bring up the fact that you were asked backstage. “Oh and Sam said he wants to see me after the concert.” 

“Oh wow babe, maybe he’ll wanna talk to us and we can get some autographs.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You stirred your drink thinking about the events of tonight. Your heart still palpitating from the unexpected interaction from only moments ago. Much has happened on your trip to Charleston, and it has barely just begun. 

—

You stand in the foggy bathroom of the hotel room you and Lucas were staying in for the weekend. It’s a nice, clean hotel room, nothing super spectacular though. But you didn’t mind. You take a long everything shower and are feeling ready for the night.

You slip on your tight black dress, wrapping your silver belt around your waist. You decide to do your hair next, opting for some simple curls. You do a bold, glittery silver makeup look. You finally tug on your black heeled boots. You begin to walk out of the bathroom, but then remember you didn’t put any perfume on. You go back into the bathroom to spray a generous amount onto your body, ya know, just in case.

You knew it was silly to think that anything would even happen between the two of you , but it’s every girl's dream. And maybe it’s bad to think while having a boyfriend but, who wouldn’t have a one night stand with one of the boys, right? It’s like a hall pass.

You rush out to the main room, not wanting to be late. Lucas is already sitting on the bed waiting for you. You grab a small bag with the necessities and check yourself over in the mirror.

You can see Lucas’s reflection in the mirror, his gaze solely focused on your ass and how it fits in your dress. “Damn, babygirl. You look smokin’.” 

“Thanks babe, we should probably get going. I don't want to be late.” You begin to walk over to the door to leave, but Lucas is still sitting on the bed. “Ya coming?” You question him, god he can be so fucking annoying sometimes. 

“I mean we won’t be too late, why don’t you come back over?” He smirks, patting on the bed.

“No Lucas, come on. I want to go.” You cross your arms in front of you, waiting for him.

“God you’re so fucking insufferable sometimes y/n. A guy can’t even get fucking laid?.” Lucas pushes off the bed and grabs the keys.

Lucas was very sexually driven. He always was. You both met on Tinder and all it was supposed to be was a one night stand, but it slowly turned into more. And while you loved him for how sweet he was, there was always the other side of him that you wish didn't exist. 

“Okay Lucas, whatever. Be angry that I don’t want to have fucking sex with you right now when we have somewhere to be.” You roll your eyes and roughly pull open the door leading out to the hall. 

—

After what felt like the longest drive ever, filled with silence and anger, you make it to the arena. Lucas went straight to his seat while you made your way to the merch stand. You tried to go as long as you could without having to be with him. When you heard music start to play you quickly rushed to your seat to watch the openers. 

Your seats were good, you could see the stage perfectly. After the openers finish up, you wait anxiously in your seat for Greta to come on. You find it hard to believe you’re about to see Sam again and you wonder if he would be able to see you too. You hope he did. You also hope that he will remember what he said last night at the bar. But knowing how busy their lives are, your hope of meeting him backstage was feeling less of a reality.

You hear the orchestra music begin to lull and you know they are coming on any minute now. The moment of tension between you and Lucas subsides, and you both begin to feel the excitement.

The crowd is cheering so loudly you think your eardrums might burst. The curtain falls and suddenly there stands the man you were in a scandalous conversation with.  

The boys take their places on stage and the opening notes ring throughout the arena. You couldn’t believe how close you are to him. You knew the seats were close but this is closer than you thought.

There was a perfect view of Sam’s side profile. His perfect side profile, perfect body, perfect hair, perfect fucking everything. After all the attention you had got from Sam last night you were feeling jealous of the girls closer to him. At some points you had forgotten that Lucas was even with you, until you felt his hand snake around you making you feel strange. 

You gently shrug his hand off of you, wanting to dance and sing along without him being all over you. He immediately makes a sour face accompanied with a disbelieving scowl. He takes a large gulp of his beer, deciding to finally mind his own business. Your gaze travels right back to Sam, his hair now a little damp from his sweat. 

He looks over at your section and you swear he gives you a flirty, little wink. Sure, maybe you are being a tad delusional but he does know where you are sitting and last night he was being quite cheeky with you.

As the show went on you shared more than a few glances, some lasting more than expected, and because of that someone was getting very jealous. Everytime Sam would look at you Lucas would roll his eyes and take a big swig of his drink. But you didn’t care, you were too in the moment to realize. 

As the show comes to an end, you take your seat, not knowing if you should leave. I mean sure Sam said he wanted to see you again, but he could just be saying that to everyone. But you couldn’t lose the opportunity. 

Lucas finishes his drink and digs the keys out of his pocket. “Alright let's go y/n, I couldn’t have you before the show but I sure as hell can after.” He says giving you a flirty look.

“Um Lucas, don’t you remember? Sam wanted to take me backstage. I can’t miss this opportunity.” You hold your ground, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh my god y/n give me a break. He’s not going to do that, and even if he did I wouldn’t let you. Not after all the looks you were giving him.”

“So what I’m gathering from that is you don’t trust me?!” You furrow your eyebrows at him in pure anger. You had tried your best all night to suppress your irritation, but now he was working on your last nerve. 

“That’s not what I-” He starts.

“Just save it. You’ve been acting like an ass to me all night. I was just trying to enjoy the concert. Besides, this is a fucking anniversary present anyway and you’re treating me like I’m a child.” 

“Excuse me ma'am.” You hear a voice come from the floor down below you. A large man in a security shirt looks up to you and Lucas. “Sam Kiszka asked to see you backstage if you are willing to follow me.”

“Omg yes definitely-” You start before you’re interrupted.

“No, y/n, you are not going.” Lucas cuts you off before you could say anymore, while grabbing onto your arm rather forcefully. 

“Um yes I am. This is once in a lifetime Lucas, I won’t let you ruin this for me just because you're jealous and wanna go home to get your dick sucked. You can go, I'll get an Uber back to the hotel.” You grab your bag and begin to make your way to the stairs before you're grabbed again.

“You think you’re gonna be with him all night or something? Honestly go ahead y/n. Go fuck him, you obviously want to be with him more than me tonight. I should have known you were such a bitch.” He begins to walk away and towards the exit and you just let him. He just couldn’t stand being happy for you. 

You’d have a conversation with Lucas at some point, but you are a little more focused on the fact that Sam Kiszka is waiting for you backstage currently. 

You turn to face the security guy with an apologetic look, “I’m so sorry about him. I’d love to go backstage.” You give him a sweet smile in which he returns. 

“No problem, ma’am. Follow me right this way.” He leads you down the steps onto the floor and walks you to the back of the stage. The nerves were building up as was the anticipation of seeing Sam again. And he requested to see you.

You walk past all the backstage workers beginning to pack up the stage equipment, not a trace of any Greta Van Fleet member. You still find it hard to believe this was even happening right now, and who knows what's going to happen when you reach Sam. The fact you just had a severe argument with your boyfriend only minutes ago, and not even knowing where the two of you stood at the moment, complicated things even more. 

The security guard stops just short of a black door, labeled with the name Sam Kiszka.”Feel free to knock on the door ma’am, he's just inside.” He points in the direction of the door, smiles, and then turns to walk away. He didn’t even give you a chance to thank him, before he was out of sight. You’re left alone now, in front of Sam’s door. You take a deep breath trying to steady yourself before you knock.

You feel your hand shake as you bring your fist to the door, rapping your knuckles against it. After a few moments you hear the door knob jiggle. Oh my god. There he is, again.

His body still glistening with sweat as he opens the door for you, smirking looking down at you. He plops down onto the couch in the corner, patting the cushion next to him. “Sit down babydoll, I wanna hear your thoughts.” You take a seat beside him. He drapes his arms across the back of the couch, brushing your hair in the process. 

“Um It was really good. It was hard to take my eyes off you, you did amazing.” You realize his gaze on you, making you nervous and shift in your seat.

“I’m so happy you liked it.” Taking a piece of your hair, and twirling it in his fingers. “So what about, hm Linus? Luke, I don't care to remember. Where is he?”

“Oh Lucas, well he wasn’t invited back, which is fine he understands. Well…not really, but it’s fine. He’s been a real dick all night anyways so the time away from him is good.” You feel the anger rising back up again just from the simple thought of Lucas right now. 

“He’s no good for you babydoll, you need someone to treat you right. Make you feel good, make you happy.” His hand that was once gently intertwined in your hair is now grasped around the back of your neck.

You shift to face him.“Do I? And who do you suppose could do that for me?” He is so fucking bold, and apparently so were you with this newfound confidence. 

“Look right in front of you babe.” His lips form a straight line, his eyebrows practically raised to his hairline.

“Sam, I have a boyfriend.” The devil on your shoulder is so badly telling you to give into him. 

“And? I’m so much better than him y/n, open your eyes. Like seriously, what does he have that I don’t, because it doesn’t seem like much. Last time I checked he wasn’t a musician in a popular rock band who also happens to be a millionaire.”

Such a cocky fucking man. But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

“Well he pays for our rent, makes dinner once a week...lots of stuff.” You are trying to convince yourself. It's not really working.

“Baby, if you were mine you’d have your own house, never cook another day in your life, and have anything you fucking want.” His eyes were staring right into yours, he looked…serious? Fuck, why universe do you have to make things so goddamn difficult.  

“Maybe I don’t care about the money, I care about the love. Could you even do that?”

Sam stares at you, deciding his answer in his own head. “How would you feel if I kissed you, then you can decide if I ‘love’ the way you want babydoll.”

“Well I wouldn’t feel a thing because I wholeheartedly love my boyfriend.”

Are you really going to do this right now? Cheat on your boyfriend. You’ve never been a cheater, why start now? Maybe it’s because Sam Kiszka hasn’t been begging for your attention before. 

His grip around the back of your neck tightens to bring you closer to him, your lips only a few inches apart. You stay like that for a few seconds but it feels like hours with the need for him pulsing through you. 

Before you knew it his lips quickly attached to yours, his lips were so soft and plump. He pulls away to look at you. “Feel anything?” He questions with a cocky ass look on his face. His stupid, pretty face.  

“I wish I could tell you I did, but I didn’t.” You were most definitely lying, trying to convince yourself that there was nothing there. You felt guilty, but that guilt was being covered by the lust filling the air. The need for Sam was far too powerful, you didn’t want anyone else. 

Next thing you know your lips are back on his, this time with more urgency. You lean further into him as his tongue teases at your lips, begging for entrance. You part your lips for him allowing his tongue to slide against yours. Your hands make their way to the back of his head, lightly tugging at his coffee colored hair. 

A light moan slips from your mouth at the feeling of his lips against yours, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Sam. 

“You’re such a bad liar. You can keep saying you don’t feel anything but your body can’t lie baby.” His hands trail down your body making you shiver. “So touched starved. Lucas doesn’t do anything to you does he? Surely he doesn’t please you the way you want, huh? I could do so much better for you babydoll.”

“Not recently. I mean he’s always begging for it and I usually give in but it always sucks. It’s half assed and always for his pleasure. He’s sweet sometimes but all he ever thinks about is sex. It’s hard to see the good in a relationship when the bad outweighs the good.”

Sam’s hands rub up and down your thighs, giving you comfort in the moment. 

“I mean even today he tried to fuck right before we left and when I was about to come back here he was arguing about going back and fucking then, like god if you’re going to insist on fucking all the time at least make it decent.” You realized how loud and aggressive you had gotten during your one sided conversation. “I’m sorry that’s probably more than you wanted to know.”

“No, it's all good babydoll. I could tell you didn’t like him all that much at the bar. But I could tell how much you were feeling up on me.” Smirking at you. If you were trying to have a serious conversation with Lucas and he did that you’d probably smack him, but when Sam does it, it turns you on. “You can act like you're not feeling it, but I can tell.” Before you can register, you're being brought up onto Sam’s lap, straddling him on the couch. 

“Y/n, I’ll treat you so right babygirl. With me, you’d never have to worry about anything ever again.” His hands are trailing up and down over your ass, you instinctively grind down into his lap. Sam sucks in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. “Goddamn, if you keep that up I’ll cum in my fucking pants.”  

“Mmm, that would be kinda fun, wouldn’t it? Ya know…if I made you cum in your pants.” You smirk at him as you grind your hips again. 

“Stop teasing.” He hisses through his teeth, grabbing at your hips to still them. 

“Fine, I won’t.” You get off his lap, kneeling in front of him and unzip his jeans. Sam’s hands connect to your hair as you release him from his jeans, only his boxers hiding his cock from your sight. Before you could fully make your way off the floor Sam was ripping off your belt and pulling your dress above your head. 

You feel the cold air hit your now bare chest, your nipples instantly hardening. You can sense Sam’s eyes on you and you finally look up to meet his gaze. 

“Well, well, well. Would you look at that?” His eyes scan over your chest as you settle yourself back down on his lap. 

“Like what you see?” You challenge him, leaning over so your tits are directly in front of his face. 

His hands reach down to the waistband of his boxers and swiftly pull them down. His cock slaps against his stomach and you can feel the saliva collecting in your mouth, you have to physically stop yourself from drooling. “I don’t know, you tell me.” His voice is low and husky, he’s incredibly turned on. You can tell because his cock looks like it's practically aching, a bead of precum collecting on his swollen tip. 

Almost subconsciously you begin to make your way down onto your knees, but before you could take him in he grabs a chunk of your hair, pulling you up to meet his gaze. “Oh no honey that's not how this works. I don’t know what Lucas makes you do but you come first, in more than one way.”

“But… I want to…” You look at him like a lost puppy, you were taken off guard. I mean, yeah, you were used to sucking Lucas’s dick with nothing in return, that’s all you’ve known for the past year and a half, why would you expect anything different now. 

“Well maybe I wanna please you y/n. Just accept that babydoll, not everyone is as selfish as him.” He leans forward on the couch taking your hips into his hands pulling you closer to him. 

His lips graze over your stomach leaving soft, feather light kisses. Your hands travel to the back of his head to clutch onto his long hair. 

“Lay down on the couch for me, peach.” He looks up at you from his sitting position, his eyes darkened and lust-filled. You immediately obey him, finally allowing yourself to give into his ministrations. Taking a seat on the couch, Sam gently pushes you down, your back hitting the leather cushions.

Your body laid out for him, completely vulnerable. He hovers himself over you, mouth connecting to your neck and leaving light kisses down to the top of your tits. “Can I leave marks, let Lucas know whose you are?”

“You’re implying that I'm yours, Sammy?” You smirk at him, running your hands up and down his bare chest. 

“Oh peach, you’ve been mine from the moment I laid eyes on you.” He leans down to place a kiss on your lips. 

You immediately melt into him, his lips so soft and plump. Your hands wrap around his neck pulling him down closer, bringing his hips flush with yours. He deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing at your lips begging for entrance. You part your lips allowing his tongue to slide across yours. 

A tiny moan escapes from your mouth, causing Sam to pull away. “Fuck, those little noises you’re making are so pretty baby. Keep doing it and I’m gonna fuck you straight out of your relationship.”

“Do it, fuck me so hard I forget about my stupid boyfriend.” Your hands scratch at his scalp and gently pull at the strands of his long hair. “Sammy…”

“What peach?” He lightly drags his hand up the curve of your hip and over your waist to grab at your tits. 

You look over at the vanity mirror against the wall, in the corner of the room. “I…” You trail off, lost in space, letting your imagination run wild with all the possibilities. “I need you to fuck me over by that mirror.” 

He follows your line of sight, a smirk appearing on his face once he realizes. “What a dirty girl. Fine, you wanna act like a slut, you’ll get fucked like a slut too.” Before you could register what was happening Sam grabbed your hand and brought you to the vanity. 

Sam pushed you face down onto the counter, bringing you close to the mirror. Sam’s hands grab onto your ass, watching as your face distorted in pain. 

His hands linger on the waistband of your panties. His fingers slip under the fabric and release with a harsh snap against your skin. “Fuck…” You squeak out. 

“Mmm, the prettiest peach. But, I think these need to come off,” He says, rubbing his large hand over your ass cheek before tugging down your underwear, letting them pool at your feet. “That’s much better, I need to see my girl completely when I fuck her.”

Sam’s fingers drag over your slit, feeling your pool of wetness. “Damn baby, who got you like this.” Whispering into your ear. “It wasn’t Lucas, was it?” He grabs your chin, forcing eye contact in the mirror. “Was it?” You watch his reflection as his jaw clenches. 

“No Sam, it was you, only you.” You practically whimper out. God, you were a mess for this man.

Sam grins, feeling proud of what he caused. “Good, now I think I need to get a taste before you’re not able to hold yourself up.” 

Sam kneels behind you to become eye level with your cunt. His eyes rake over your slick folds as he lets out a low groan. “Fuck, peach. Can’t believe all of this is for me.” His fingers lightly play with your folds before you feel his tongue lick a slow, long stripe up your pussy. 

“Shit…” You huff out, his warm tongue taking you by surprise. He continues on with a few more licks up your slit, before he pulls away. 

“Aw, someone liked that. You that deprived baby? Lucas not know how to please a woman like you? I mean he’s just a boy after all, you need a real man, like me.” He chuckles a little at his own words. You can feel the anger starting to boil. 

You whip your head around causing him to fall back onto his hands. “Stop fucking bringing him up.” You spit at him. “I don’t give a shit about him and I’ve been dreading the fact I have to go back to that hotel room when his asshole self is there.”

“Feisty little thing aren't you?” He smirks up at you, nothing but pure enjoyment plastered across his face. “You’re quite cute when you’re angry, peach.” Sam pushes your hair behind your ear. “Plus what makes you think you have to go back to him. I'm all yours.” He smiles sweetly at you. A moment of silence passes.

“Sam just shut your goddamn mouth for once.” You shoot him a venomous glare. “Fuck me. Right. Now. I can’t wait any longer.” Maybe you were begging, but you couldn’t care less you were drunk off this man. 

You see Sam rise from his knees in the mirror to stand behind you. He leans over to whisper in your ear, “You’re going to regret speaking to me like that, peach.” 

“Am I? That’s funny. I’m just wondering why your dick still isn’t inside of me.” You make eye contact with him through the reflection, you narrow your eyes at him. “You know what… maybe I’ll go get Danny to finish the job.” You turn around to start walking away before Sam grabs around your waist. 

“Oh, I don’t think so.” He presses a wet kiss to the side of your neck. “Danny is…preoccupied right now anyway.” 

He pulls your body back over to the vanity, his hand flattening itself over your back to push your face back down onto the cool counter. 

He leans down, his lips right against your ear, “Besides, you’ll never want another man after I’m finished with you.” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. Jake actually seems like he would be amazing in bed. More mature. More experienced. Yeah, maybe you’ve fucked a lot of girls but was it even good anyway?” 

“Shut your mouth or I’ll shut you up with my cock.” His cheeks are flushed red, your bodies radiating so much heat. 

“Maybe, I want that.” 

“Slut.” Without warning, he is slamming his cock inside of you giving you little time to adjust. “You wanna act like you can take me, then take me. Take me like the slut you are.” 

Sam pumps in and out of you, slowly getting you used to his large cock.

“Holy shit Sam, you’re so big.” You grab onto the sides of the vanity, attempting to steady yourself. 

“I’m sure it feels huge compared to whatever you’re used to.” He laughs under his breath, and you immediately turn around and stand up to face him. 

Your jaw clenches before you’re absolutely laying into him. Your faces are only inches apart. “What did I tell you about bringing his goddamn name up. I don’t want to fucking think about him you asshole.” 

“Well, I mean… I didn’t say his name.” He smirks and that’s exactly what sends you over the edge. Your hands land on his chest pushing him backwards. He stumbles back, landing in a seating position on the couch, looking up at you in awe.      

“If you keep testing me you’re not going to find me so peachy anymore.” You warn, your body looming over him. You begin to straddle him, lining him up with your core. “Now let’s see if you can handle me Sammy.” 

You lower yourself down on him, his hands instinctively grasp at your hips to guide you.

“Fuck y/n, you’re so tight. Shit-” You squeeze around him, causing his grip to tighten on you. A hiss slips passed his lips and before you know it he’s meeting you halfway, thrusting up into you. 

His hands travel up your sides to caress your tits. He takes your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, rolling it in the most delicious way. Your head falls back, but you continue to grind against him. “Sammy…”

“What peach?” He sounds breathless and completely fucked out. 

“You feel so incredible. The- shit. The… fucking best I’ve ever had.” You pant out, your hands grasping at his hair. 

“I don’t doubt that peach.” Smirking, looking deep into your soul.

You grab a chunk of his hair, exposing his neck. “You’re acting pretty fucking cocky for not doing much yet Sammy. I don’t even feel close yet, I could go for hours.

“You’ll be going for hours whether you come or not baby.” He says, grabbing your hair exposing your neck, leaving a deep purple mark on the side of your neck. 

“God…” You moan out, causing him to smirk. He peels you off of him and next thing you know he's roughly flipping you onto your back.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, y/n.” He hovers over your body, his dick in hand pumping frantically. 

“Put it back in, Sammy.” You whine out in the most despairing tone.

“Fuck peach, you’re desperate for me.” He smirks down at you clearly enjoying the situation you two are in. “I know how bad you want it, you gotta beg for it though. Show me how bad you want it.” He begins dragging his cock through your folds, staring deep into your eyes.

The only thing that manages to come out of your mouth is a high-pitched moan. 

“That won’t cut it, peach, use your goddamn words.” He slaps his dick against your pussy, causing your body to squirm. He reaches his free hand out to drag down your body landing on your hip. He leans down to whisper in your ear, “You know you want this cock so bad, just give it up.” 

You roll your eyes at him, but then your eyes trail down to his rock hard length resting in his hand. You have to physically stop yourself from drooling. And as if you couldn’t get any wetter you feel another rush of wetness coat your pussy. 

“I think you want it just as bad as I do Sam, so why don’t you just give it up?” Reaching down, smearing the pre-cum from his tip onto your thumb, and bringing it to your mouth. 

His breath hitches and you can see the wheels turning in his mind. He spreads your legs further apart, your one leg now draped along the back of the couch, centering himself in between your legs, gently sliding himself into you yet again. 

You both let out a sigh of relief. You can’t help but chuckle a little. 

“Why are you laughing peach?” He asks you but still continues on with his slow yet deep thrusts. 

“Just find it funny how you wanted me to beg so bad, but you’re the one that ended up caving first.” You whimper out. 

Before getting another word out, a swift slap is delivered across your cheek. “I don’t want to hear another fucking word from you, got it?” He says through gritted teeth, with a dark glare that could stop anyone in their tracks. His large veiny hand covers your mouth before Sam completely demolishes your pussy.

He attacks hard and fast, giving you no time to get comfortable. After a few minutes, Sam’s movements start to get sloppy.

“Fuck, I’m so close peach. Shit, so so tight, fuck. So pretty mama. Prettiest fucking pussy.” His eyes are screwed shut and you can’t help but admire him.l 

You knew he wasn’t lying from the nonsense leaving his mouth. 

You grab his wrist, pulling his hand off your mouth. “Cum in me Sammy, I’m on the pill. Get me pregnant for all I care.”

“Yeah? I wouldn’t mind that. You being my baby mama.” His breath hitches and you can tell he’s right there. 

“Cum for me Sam, I know you want to cum in my tight pussy, just give it to me.” You squeeze around him and that is his breaking point.

“Fuck, fuck. I’m coming- shit.” He is drilling into you and before you know it you’re feeling his hot liquid flood your pussy. “Take it y/n, take it all…” After he comes down, he finishes off with a few more thrusts. Sam holds himself up on the couch before pulling himself out. 

You were so close, but you weren’t able to finish in time.

“That was so fucking good y/n.”

“I’m sure it was.” Still you lay there unsatisfied.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well I’m sure it would feel good, you know, if I would have came.” Sam’s face turns bright red, feeling embarrassed. 

“I thought- well, I figured…”

“Sam” you cut him off. “Finish the job, or I’ll assume what I did when I first walked in here, that you’re all talk and no game.”

Before you could say anything more, Sam pries your legs open, exposing his cum dripping down your folds. Sam inserts his fingers, curling upward to reach your g-spot.

“Oh fuck Sam, right there. Fuck your cum back into me.”

“Yeah I’m sure you would like that. Better chance of getting you pregnant, right?” He adds his thumb, swirling circles onto your clit. 

Your body is thrashing around at this point, your hands searching for anything to grab onto, ultimately landing in Sam’s hair again.

You tug harshly on his dark brown locks and immediately you see the results of your actions. Sam’s eyes roll back into his head, “Fuck, you wanna try and make me cum again or something.” 

“Hmm, I wouldn’t mind that.” You smile up at him. 

You look right at Sam as he bites his plump bottom lip. “You're close.” 

“H-how do you know that?” You grip tighter on his hair. 

“I feel you squeezing my fingers Peach, I’m very familiar with the way women react to me when they’re close.” He drives his thick fingers even deeper and you are nearing your end, exactly as he expected. 

“I feel so fucking good, I could almost-” You trail off, your orgasm overtaking you. 

“You could almost, what?” 

You feel the intense buildup, before the euphoric release. Small spurts of your juices cover Sam’s hand and splashes up onto his chest. “Oh God.” You don’t realize your grip on Sam’s hair until you come back down, but he doesn’t even seem to mind. His eyes were full of pure admiration. 

“Holy shit, y/n. That was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He pulls you up to straddle his lap, resting your head on his sweat glistening chest. 

“I could say the same thing about you.” 

You feel a feeling of euphoria, but now without the distraction you’re feeling very stressed. You knew that you had just fucked someone who was not the man you came to the concert with. But was it over before you came back here? You dealt with him for too long, and you knew that after this you could never go back to a man who treats you like an object. 

“Hey peach?” Sam looks down at you laying on his chest. 

“Hm?” You look up at him and a sweet smile spreads across his beautiful face. 

“You don’t deserve to be treated the way he treats you. You deserve to be treated like a queen. To be appreciated and loved, whether that’s from me or not.” His hand is stroking at your hair now in an attempt to comfort you. 

“I know I should, and I know what I did tonight wasn’t right, but I think it’s what I needed to realize what I deserve.” 

“Listen, I don’t know how to go about this from here. I wanna give you my number though, I don’t know just in case you wanna talk. Or if I’m in the area and need a date with a hot babe.” You chuckle at his words, feeling appreciated.

“I think I’d love that Sam. Thank you for tonight, seriously. I don’t think I’ll ever go to a concert that tops this one.” You can’t wipe your smile off your face.

“I know you won’t peach. Plus I don’t want anyone else bringing you backstage. You’re mine.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TAGLIST: @peaceloveunitygvf @jordie-gvf @Gretavanhockey @Mama-likes72 @mar-rein12 @jennabobenasblog @terry-66 @traffic-was-a-b1tch 

[i2ycat]

— the ‘us’ theory

pairing sunoo x fem!reader synopsis after years of no contact, a sudden rekindling in your relationship with sunoo makes sparks soar higher than they’ve ever gone. it’s hard not to see just how much you missed being around your old best friend again genre slight angst, fluff, childhood best friends to lovers, college au word count 4.3k (was only supposed to be arnd 600, idk what happened LOL) warnings wrote this on 1% brain cells so please excuse if it seems like the plot is underdeveloped and pacing is weird, i know nothing ab mortal kombat, semi-proofread main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

You’ve known Sunoo since forever. From the moment you took your first baby step to the moment you got absolutely hammered by another girl in your grade, Sunoo had been right by your side, from kindergarten all the way to primary school.

It was weird not to see your brooding self beside the beaming boy, seeing as you guys never separated from each other for even a second. It made your parents think the both of you had separation anxiety, always throwing tantrums whenever the other wasn’t around.

But that was only until primary school.

By the time secondary school rolled around, you naturally started to drift apart. Being in the year above him, he stuck to his own group of friends, while you had yours. You had easily accepted the course that your relationship with Sunoo was headed off to, wanting to fit in with the rest of your ‘ew juniors’-minded clique so badly, because who hung out with juniors anyways?

It didn’t help that, not soon after, your father was stationed to a different department of the company on the other side of the world. You felt sad leaving everything you knew behind, all the familiar places, but you were also 13 and ready to be anywhere but the place you had been confined to. It felt exhilarating to finally leave everything behind — not that you had much to begin with. It’s always been just your mother, your father, and you.

Sunoo was out of the conversation by the time you turned 16. He became just someone you’d remember in passing; your parents bringing him up every now and then, but you never dwelled on the thought of him for too long.

By the time you were 19, you could barely remember what he even looked like, given that you'd only seen up until his pre-puberty phase: toothy grins, chubby cheeks, and all.

So imagine your shock when a taller, more mature shell of a man presents himself in front of you, claiming to be the Kim Sunoo you’ve already forgotten all about.

“Don’t you remember me? I’m Kim Sunoo!”

You met him by complete chance.

The last time you heard of Sunoo was when your mom broke the news on a random Sunday night that the Kim family would be permanently moving to Japan, and that was three years ago.

“Cmon, I’ve known you for, like, 13 years.” He clicks his tongue.

“Yeah, I guessed. I’m just shocked to see you here.”

“What? Is seeing a young man shopping for groceries so hard to believe?” He jokes, taking a pack of ramen noodles from the shelf and placing it carefully into his cart.

“It’s not that.” You chuckle. “I thought you moved to Japan?”

“Well, I can’t really be leeching off my parents forever.”

He’s got more wit to him than you remember.

“Right,” You quickly reply, unconsciously walking the rest of the noodles and pasta aisle at the same pace that he is.

“Wow, even after all these years, you’re still the same old Y/n I used to know.” He smiles at you, the apples of his cheeks tinting a light pink under the blindingly white LED lights overhead. It suddenly brought you back to times of playing together in the playground after school, the summer rays rendering the both of you sweaty messes while your mothers talked about adult gossip somewhere in the distance. The simpler times, when fitting into social circles barely even mattered yet.

“Am I supposed to be offended?” As you arrive closer to the snack aisle, you start to grab at items not scribbled on your sad excuse of a grocery list. You should really stop doing that; you mentally chide yourself.

“Maybe. Depends on how you take it.” He shrugs. “Doritos?” You shake your head.

Silence starts to permeate the air between the both of you, save for some random Nirvana tune playing faintly in the background. It wasn’t awkward per se, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either; rather, it sat right in the middle.

You’ve known Sunoo for 13 whole years of your younger adolescent days, but right now, it feels like you’ve just met him for the first time. Technically you are, after a few years that is, but maybe it was just you and your ineptitude for social interactions. Chae was right, you really should socialize with people more.

A beat or two passes by, “Are you free tomorrow by any chance?” Sunoo turns to you, bright eyes boring into yours.

“Why?”

“I just moved here like a week ago, and I have absolutely no friends.” He pouts, “Mind giving an old friend company on his own birthday?”

“It’s your birthday?” You stop in your tracks.

“Tomorrow, yeah.”

“Okay. Just send me the address.” You take out your phone to hand him, “You’re not just about to lure and kill me right?”

“Now why would I do that?” He lifts his eyebrows at you as he keys in his phone number, naming himself ‘no.1 childhood best friend’ in the process.

“You can never be too sure nowadays.”

“Yeah, as if I would kill my only friend in this entire city.” He retorts, fingers brushing yours ever-so-slightly as he hands you back your phone.

—

Seeing the bare-bones state that Sunoo’s box apartment was in made you feel for him. You’d already spent your early teens adjusting to the chaos that New York was, and you’ve acclimated to it by now, with the help of your parents, of course, but Sunoo, on the other hand? He came completely alone, with a singular suitcase in tow. It ignited a sense of protectiveness towards him. The same way it was when you were younger.

Sunoo was always one of the more smaller and younger children in the kindergarten, but that only made him more loved by the teachers and other caretakers. Memories resurfaced of how everyone would coo whenever Sunoo showed his signature smile, silently wishing they had a kid as endearing as Sunoo. They’d bring extra just for him, and Sunoo, being the sweet kid he was, basked in all of it blissfully.

The rest of the older kids didn’t like how Sunoo hogged all the adult’s attention, so they would constantly pick at him during play time, behind the knowledge of the teachers. Since you were a year older and much taller than Sunoo then, you always felt the instinctive need to step in and protect him from all of it, even getting sucker punched in the face for him one time. You chuckle at the distinct memory of Sunoo crying in the sidelines whilst you laid on the mat, a comically large bandage plastered on your cheek.

“What’s so funny?” Sunoo sticks his head out from the cupboard, eyeing your figure on the couch.

“I’m laughing at the fact that you at least have a couch.” You pat the space next to you.

“Hey, you can’t judge. I just moved here, and I don’t know where anything is anymore.” He says this as he pours room-temperature orange juice into plastic cups. “Happy birthday to me.” He sighs, handing you one.

“This is actually really sad.” You take a single sip out of the clear cup before setting it down on the arm of Sunoo’s sofa that was more like a loveseat if anything. “And I’m not just talking about the orange juice.”

“At least I’m not alone!”

“Why’d you move here anyway? I’m sure there’s better places than big ole overpriced New York.” You bring up a leg to get comfortable, and Sunoo does the same, his knee lightly grazing yours in the process.

“You wouldn’t wanna hear it.” He sighs.

“No, tell me!”

“It’s stupid.”

“I won’t judge. Pinky promise.” You bring your pinky rings towards his, locking them.

“I actually moved here for you.” He says it so softly that you thought you had misheard.

“Sorry, I think I misheard.”

“Nah, I think you heard correctly.” He bends down to grab a forkful of noodles, the one he bought yesterday, and moans gleefully at the bundles of flavour exploding in his mouth, “Woah. I think this might be my new favourite ramen.”

“Wait, you’re not being serious, are you?” Sunoo shakes his head at you, his cheeks blowing up as noodles enter his mouth, strand by strand. “Are you stupid?” You completely drop the smile you had been sporting just a minute ago, beyond baffled by Sunoo’s lack of critical thinking.

“Gosh, Sunoo! What would you have done if I hadn’t run into you last night? What if I already moved to a different state? A different country even?!”

“My mom is still in contact with yours, so I’m pretty sure I would’ve ended up at your front door anyway." He nonchalantly answers, shrugging his shoulders the way he always does.

You’ve completely forgotten how Sunoo was always the free spirit in your dynamic, doing anything and everything he wanted without ever thinking about the after. He always downplayed the severity of the consequences, only thinking about the moment and living in it blissfully.

Just a few days prior to your drift apart, Sunoo had dragged you out of your 6th grade classroom just before recess ended and towards the outdoor basketball court. A little mat had been planted on the grass, with what you could recognise as Sunoo’s lunch box set neatly on top.

He had asked you to skip class with him, a kind of celebration on the last day of school. Thanks to him, you were absolutely horrified to come home that day, while him, on the other hand, was not the slightest bit concerned.

“Why? Just why? We haven’t talked for, what, 6 years? And suddenly you move 13 hours away from home to be in the same city that I am?” You were fuming, and for a reason you weren’t too sure about yourself.

Maybe it was the knowledge that he had been thinking about you even after your drift apart, while you were not. Maybe it was the guilt of being the one to instigate the drift in the first place, but he still made his way towards you.

“I’m not too sure either.” He places the chopsticks on the makeshift coffee table. “But at least you’re here, and I’m not alone on my birthday.” He offers you a cheeky grin, one that reaches his eyes, and it almost instantly gives you whiplash.

“You’re driving me crazy here, Sunoo.”

“You said you wouldn’t judge and… it’s still my birthday, ya’know.” He pouts, cocking his head to the side in an attempt to soothe your bubbling anger with his biggest weapon — his face. “Can you stop being your practical self for just a second?” His tone was light, and his eyes were pleading.

He probably still remembered your weakness for pretty faces, and was taking advantage of that at the most convenient of times.

Damn Sunoo and damn pretty privilege.

—

After Sunoo’s semi-successful birthday party—his words, not yours—he’s been sticking to you like glue. He practically lives in your apartment with how much time he spends there. Even when you’re out for classes or errands, he'll take it upon himself to make himself feel at home. You practically spent every second of every day with him, just like it used to be when you were younger.

Your mother was overly ecstatic to find out that you had rekindled your friendship with Sunoo — almost so ecstatic in fact that it alarmed you just a tad bit, scared that she might try to set you up with her best friend’s only son.

She had even suggested that the both of you live together to save costs, she says. You weren’t entirely sold on that fact, seeing as you still wanted your semblance of privacy and freedom in your own home, but with the rising rent prices these days, it wasn’t really a choice now, was it?

“My mother says we should move in together.” You say this over a plate of scrambled eggs, one that Sunoo had so graciously offered to cook.

“I’m sorry?” Sunoo chokes on his cup of black tea.

“I mean, our dynamic is pretty good. You finish things that I don’t. I say it’s a pretty good match.”

Over the course of the last few months that you’ve been on-off living with Sunoo, you learned that he has a habit of picking up things that you’ve left aside to be forgotten. One instance of this was when you found your incomplete knitting project in Sunoo’s more nimble hands, working away while on his spot on your couch.

He explained that seeing things unfinished was a big pet peeve of his, and it usually works in your favour anyway.

“Yeah, but what about my apartment?”

“You say that as if you don’t basically already live here.” You pick up a piece of egg with your fork to bring it to your mouth.

“I guess, yeah, but..." His words trail off. “Never mind.”

“But what, Sun?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, taking a big gulp of his tea before setting the cup back down onto your wooden table, the one Sunoo had picked alongside some other furniture pieces that now scattered your flat.

“You better give up that act now because you know how stubborn I can get.” You peg the fork at him in a faux effort to assert intimidation. Not that you could be any more intimidating with your furrowed eyebrows and grim expression.

“It’s just...”

“Just?”

Sunoo ultimately sighs, picking up his plate to bring to the sink and turning his back towards you. “I would love to live together, really." He starts off. “But what if you bring other guys over? I don’t think I could handle that.”

“That’s it? You’re flattering me by even thinking I can pull guys.” You laugh as you make your way towards Sunoo with an empty plate in your hands. “Sun, there’s nothing to worry about, but I’ll make sure to let you know beforehand if I ever do.”

“That’s not what I was implying.” Sunoo keeps his voice low and whisper-like, almost like he doesn’t want you to hear, but you do anyway.

“Okay, then what do you mean?”

“I’m saying that I think I like you.” He takes a deep breath, finding it hard to formulate words from his thoughts. “I... I just... When we were 13, when we started drifting apart, I felt so lost and confused. I didn’t want to be like those movie cliches, losing my best friend because of high school or whatever.” He doesn’t look up from the dishes in front of him; instead, he focuses on mindlessly scrubbing the mug.

“I followed you here because, even after six long years, you were still my number one. I missed your presence. I always wondered when you would contact me again, but that never happened. I guess I was also too scared to talk to you first, so that’s that.” He continues. “I don’t want to burden you with my feelings any more than they already are, and if we officially, actually lived together, I don’t think my heart could handle all that.”

To say you were speechless was an understatement. You stared at him long enough to see dots, and yet you couldn’t think of anything to say.

Sunoo liked you. The little boy from kindergarten that you promised to protect liked you. Your best friend up until you were 13 liked you?

“Sun...” You start off but can never seem to find a proper end to your sentence.

“You don’t have to answer me right now. Or, as a matter of fact, you don’t even have to accept it. I just thought you should know since you proposed we live together.” He washes the foam away, setting the clean dishes on the drying rack. “I’ll take my leave now.” He smiles at you, and by the time the door closes behind him, you’re still standing frozen.

You don’t know what to do with this information. Yeah, Sunoo was cute, and you had a soft spot for him, but that doesn’t mean you like him. He grew up well, but that doesn’t mean you no longer saw him as the boy you needed to protect from the world. It was all a clash of thoughts, really.

—

A week had gone by since you texted Sunoo back, saying that you needed space to think. But you weren’t really using the time to think at all; you were actually doing quite well at doing the exact opposite.

“Chae, come on! That’s cheating!” You yell, aggressively pressing away at the console for your Omni-Man to dodge Kung Lao’s wrath.

“No, you just suck.” Chae sticks her tongue out at you. And after a few moments of tense silence, “Aaaand, K.O!” She cheers in your face while you pan at the bold K.O. letterings on the screen in admission of defeat.

“I’ll beat you next time.”

“Oh baby, there won’t be a next time until you sort out whatever it is you’re worrying about first.” She takes the console from your hands and sets it back in its original place under the divider of her TV set. “Now, talk to me.” She says this as she takes a seat beside you.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Yeah, sure, as if you're coming here at 1 a.m. on a Wednesday night, even when you have classes tomorrow, is because of nothing.”

“I just couldn’t sleep. That’s all.”

“I’m going to go bald from all the stress you’re giving me.” She tugs harshly at her shoulder-length hair. “See this?!”

Your laugh echoes in Chaewon’s humble apartment, which overlooks the entirety of New York with the perfect view — one that her life as a social media influencer is able to afford. At times like these, you felt like you were her sugar baby, leeching off her big-time success like the broke college student you are.

“You’re being overly dramatic.”

"Yeah, and sometimes I wish you were more like me. Give me the damn drama!” She drapes herself all over you, head resting on your bare legs.

“Okay, fine!”

“Good.” She finally grins, taking a bag of popcorn from the table and tossing it into her mouth one by one, occasionally offering one to you.

“You remember Sunoo?”

“The one you cried about when you first met me?”

“I wasn’t crying!”

“Yeah, sure you weren’t.” She grimaces at you.

“Okay, but that was when I was 14, so it doesn’t count.”

“Whatever, whatever. Just continue!” Chaewon switches her position to comfortably sit face-to-face with you, her eyes wide and full of anticipation.

“A few months ago, I met him at the supermarket, the one you tell me to never go to.”

“What?! And you’re only telling me this now?!” Her voice was piercing, and it made your ears almost bleed onto her velvet-carpeted floor. Judging from her reaction, she was probably more concerned about the fact that you went to the only supermarket in the city she told you not to ever step foot into, rather than not having told her about your meeting with Sunoo there.

“Just let me finish, yeah?” Chaewon quips out a small apology before you continue, “And after that, we started hanging out here and there, ya'know, the whole old childhood friends shebang. It was great, honestly. He’s great company, and as you said, I was socialising with other people!”

“But?”

“How’d you know there’s a ‘but’?”

“There is always a ‘but’, my dear Y/n.”

You clear your throat. “He confessed to me just a week ago, after I had proposed to live together, ya'know, to save on costs.”

“You, what now?”

“Not everyone is as rich as you are, Chae; we grass-rooted people need to save money somehow.”

“You know that’s not what I meant!”

“Ugh, it’s stupid, I know! But my mother suggested it, and I was like, ‘Oh, that’s a good idea!’” At this point, the bag of popcorn lays haphazardly on the floor, forgotten as you contemplate all your decisions with Chaewon clinging onto your side, koala style.

“Do you like him back?”

“I haven’t really thought about it before then.” You honestly say, “He has always just been ‘the younger boy who needs protecting’ to me.”

“He’s his own grown person now, Y/n.” She reminds you.

“I know. I just think he’s cute, is all.”

“How about this? You give him a chance to try and swoon you over; if it doesn’t work out, then you guys can pretend as if nothing ever happened!” She claps her hands together, as if she had just won a Nobel Prize for solving global warming. “You’re killing two birds with one stone!”

“I don’t think that’s how the saying is supposed to work.”

"Oh, who gives a fuck? YOLO.”

—

Chaewon’s advice to just yolo the fuck out of everything sticks to you more than you’d like to admit. It echoes in your mind when you’re taking the subway all the way to Sunoo’s apartment, echoes even louder as you stand in front of his door, and echoes almost deafeningly as you knock twice on it.

In about half a heartbeat, Sunoo opens his door with an urgency you could barely register in your haze of emotions. You felt bad after having practically ghosted him for a week straight after his confession, and even worse now that you could tell he was losing sleep over it. His hair was tousled into a mess that made it seem as if he had just gotten out of bed, even if it was already 3 p.m.

“Hey.” You greet, your lips pursed into a tight smile.

“Hey.” He greets her back.

“Can I come in? Or, is it a bad time? I’m not really too sure why I came in the first place.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come in.” He steps aside to make space for you to enter his home.

The last time you’ve been here was the night after you first met him — the day of his birthday. It’s less barren than you remembered, with pops of colour in random corners that somehow represented his sporadic personality perfectly.

“I see you finally did some decorating.”

“I mean, it’s already been more than a few months since I’ve moved here; it’d be weird if I didn’t.” His voice is groggy and still laced with sleep, but you don’t comment on it, instead sucking in a deep breath.

“I wanted to, um, get back to you.” You play with your fingers, picking at the skin. “And, uh, give you an answer. Well, it’s not really an answer, but you get what I mean.”

“Yeah.”

The both of you still stood just beyond his doorway; the faint playing of the TV in the background didn’t help to ease your racing heart. In your two years of being a young adult, you hadn’t found the opportunity to really sit down and find love, given that school had always been your top priority. So when you find yourself in such situations—not that you ever do—you're rendered a blubbering mess.

You’ve practiced this many times before with Chaewon, but it feels even more nerve-wracking now that the man in all his drowsy glory is standing right in front of you.

“We can try.” You start off. “I mean it as in, you can try courting me or whatever, and if it doesn’t work out, we can pretend as if nothing ever happened.” His lack of reply gives you time to really take a good look at Sunoo, now that the weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You’ve said what you wanted to say.

At an arm's-length distance, Sunoo is the textbook definition of attractive. He’s a head taller than you, has broad shoulders, and has a pretty face. His lips were full, his nose was tall, and his eyes were a golden brown colour. What was not to like about him? You just had to accept that he was no longer the Kim Sunoo from kindergarten. He was no longer the same young Sunoo who constantly needed your help.

“Really? You’d let me court you?” His face is bright with hope, and you nod to it wordlessly. “As in, you’d let me take you out on dates and stuff?”

You can’t help the chuckle that lets out, especially endeared by his enthusiasm. “Yes, Sun.”

—

BONUS!

It has been exactly a year since Sunoo had courted and officially asked you out. It wasn’t hard to fall for him because you already had an inkling that you had unresolved feelings for him anyway. The moving in part went as smoothly as it could, save for the slight mishap with Sunoo’s landlord, but with the help of your mother, everything was resolved soon after.

Sunoo lays peacefully on the sofa, soaking in the sunshine that filters through the blinds. He was practically in heaven right now.

“Kim Sunoo!” Your voice reverberates throughout the entirety of your shared apartment.

“Uh-oh, not the government name.” Sunoo looks up from his phone to see you standing in the hallway, hand tucked under your arms, with an expression that reminded him slightly of the French bulldog he’d seen on his morning walk. “Yes, baby?”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me! You let Luna sleep on the bed after she had her walk?!”

“Oh.”

“Oh!” You mimic him.

“I’m sorry, baby. She looked so sad sleeping on the floor by herself, so I just invited her to the bed.”

“Yeah, now her paw prints are all over the white sheets! Couldn’t you have at least cleaned her before you decided to do that?” As if Luna had heard her parents arguing from inside the room, she waddles out, footsteps padding down on the wooden floor, making it her mission to soothe her parents with just her existence alone.

Luna barks, grabbing both of your attention. You immediately lean down to pick Luna up, cooing at her before glaring at Sunoo, “You better wash the sheets.”

Sunoo stares at the both of you, dumbfounded. He thought he saw Luna smirking at him, so he blinked once and then twice, only for you and your baby to disappear as you walked towards the bathroom, your voice echoing as you continued to baby-talk to Luna.

Even with your overbearing practicality and new spoiled baby to take care of, he’d never regret asking his mom about you that one fateful night.

© i2ycat 2024 idk why the first half got me thinking i was gonna write a murder mystery fic HELPP. i swear it’s just romance 😞 also this is straight dogwater, i’m so sorry idk what i was writing…

[neocrias]

Talk fast, romance!

synopsis: you and minghao know that your one-night heated romance won't last, but you're both okay with that. at least for a while.

pairing: minghao x gn reader

wc: 3,7 k

genre/aus: fluff; suggestive

warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, slightly suggestive, cursing (reader swears a lot), slightly based on the song "talk fast" by 5sos

— C'mon, this is boring, you can admit it. — The boy you just met whispers, a fainting smile in his plump lips - those which you've been staring at for the last half an hour, at least that was harsh to admit. The party was, indeed, boring, and the guy in front of you has been the only amusement you've had this night so far.

— I'm not saying it's not! I know it is. — You surrender, letting out an embarrassed laugh. — I'm just not sure I want to run away with... someone.

— With a stranger, you mean. — He implies, raising one of his eyebrows. You feel your cheeks heating, and you're glad about the very dim lights of the house you too are in, or else he'd see your messy state towards him. — I know it's weird, sorry, I shouldn't have asked.

— No! It's not that, it's just... — You start, wanting to explain yourself. You take a deep breath and stare at the dark pair of eyes in front of you. He's been so reliable the whole night, ever since he approached you for the first time when he saw you standing there, completely dislocated.

"I think my friends lowkey hate me", he said, scooching closer to you. "They just left me in the most dull party in the world."

It didn't seem like he was talking to you specifically, but more like a general affirmation out of despair. Nevertheless, you laughed at his situation, making him stare at you.

"Same."

"I'm Minghao." he presented himself, smiling at you, probably happy for the response.

"Hi, Minghao. So... you also made bad decisions tonight?"

"You have no idea."

Since this, you've talked about numerous topics, all diverse and different from the other. It was impressive: you two just clicked. It was as if something sparked between the two bored and self-sufficient souls of that party, and you started having more fun than you've had in like, weeks.

And now, he was kind of suggesting that you two make another bad decision that night: leave. Although you felt like Minghao could not be a bad person at all, you still had an uncertainty about this. What if...?

— It's just that... I don't usually, you know. — You try yet again to explain, feeling a wave of embarrassment rush through you. Thank God you had some drinks earlier that evening in the hope of enjoying this lame-ass party, because now they could help bring you courage to say the words: — I don't usually sleep with guys like that. In the same night.

I mean, you kind of wanted that. Maybe pass through it for the first time. Minghao made you feel it: he was just so interesting and attractive. You didn't feel ready yet, though, and your lack of one-night stand experiences made you nervous enough to overthink that. At least for now.

— Oh... — He opened his mouth, searching for words. — I was thinking of maybe getting some drinks or eating something...like, when I asked.

Then you wanted to dunk your head in the nearest trash can - but even that you couldn't do, since a random guy just threw up in the one next to you. He wasn't asking you for that, silly. How could you even think about it?

— I-I'm sorry, I thought-

— It's fine. — He shrugs, trying his best not to make the conversation even weirder. — I'm kind of flattered that you considered me for that, and don't get me wrong, you're totally my type, I just wasn't thinking of rushing things like that for now.

You laugh nervously, itching the back of your hand a little. Well, at least you know you're totally his type now. Points for me!

— I guess I ruined the conversation, right? — You joke, trying to ease things.

— You know how you could fix it? By letting me take you to this nice food stand I know. — Minghao offers once more.

You didn't know it yet, but he was completely mesmerized by you. Never in his life he felt this instant chemistry with someone else, and he hoped entirely that you felt at least a little like that too, so that you both could just drop that horrendous party that Seungcheol insisted on him going to and hit the road to anywhere you could keep your witty conversation.

You were quick, smart and laughed at his jokes. He had to spend more time with you - in an actually habitable place - even if it was just for the rest of the night. Or he knew he'd regret it forever.

— Yeah, let's just go.

— You can bring a friend if you prefer...wait, really!? — Minghao interrupts himself at your acceptance, smiling widely.

— Sure. I'm hungry and this party sucks, I mean, who made this playlist?

— Thank God. — He rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand, starting to lead you out of there. — And it was Hoshi, by the way.

— Who?

— My friend is in charge of DJing. He's just never done it before. — Minghao flashes you a last smile before turning his back to you, pulling you through the immensity of people glued together. You throw out a little laugh and let yourself be pulled away to what could be either the best night of your life or something you'd regret immensely.

The feeling of Minghao's hand in yours makes your body shriek in euphoria. The heat of the place, combined with the heat of the contact made you feel secure. Yeah, it's definitely going to be the first alternative.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

— I swear it was right here. — Minghao emphasizes, pointing at the ground next to him. You smile, a bit shy. After so much swearing, you knew he wasn't lying, but it was still a little odd that the first place he wanted to take you to was a totally empty street. — Man, they serve the best tteokbokki in town, I can't believe they're not here tonight out of all nights.

— It's fine, we could go somewhere else.

— I'm so sorry about that. — He shrugs, defeated. — If you want to just go home, I understand-

The boy is interrupted by some loud laughter followed by other big laughter and people's sounds. He carefully moves to glance behind, and your attention goes to the unlit alley adjacent to the street you both were at. Minghao raises an eyebrow, smiling at you and running to grab your hand once again that night.

He pulls you through the alley and you take a deep breath, fully trusting the guy leading you.

You pass through the dark small street only to be greeted with countless colorful lights. A whole avenue completely filled with food trucks and food stands, people all over the place, laughing, eating, and having fun. The smokes coming out of barbecue stands and fires lit through the estabilishments heat the cold of the evening and you feel almost overwhelmed when Minghao turns to you, smiling proudly.

— I told you so.

Your mouth opens completely, half by shock and half because you were really starving. All the different smells, the sights of food, the neon lights that surrounded the buildings around you and the colorful tents full of people were a blast to your senses, and seeing Minghao all smiley was definitely a plus - he looked so cute.

You shake your own thoughts, trying to be rational for the first time in the night. It’s fine, this was an adventure with a pretty guy - but it won’t last forever. It’s likely that the both of you don’t ever get to see or talk to each other again after this night, so keeping your hopes on the low is the intelligent decision to make now. After all, this is what relationships are now - how would you know that Minghao actually wanted more from you than just a nice evening? He probably wouldn’t, anyways.

“That’s okay”, you think, letting him guide you through the stands as you barely have time to contemplate the vision passing right behind you, “I’ll take what I can get from this.”

The boy stops all of a sudden, causing you to almost bump into him. Minghao closes his eyes as he absorbs the familiar smell of his favorite street-food and you can swear his skin glows more than it seemed like at the party - or maybe that’s just an effect of the iridescent street. 

— We’re here. — He affirms, smiling. You smile back, looking at the small orange tent with a metal small truck underneath. An elderly lady hummed silently as she flipped the sticks of tteokbokki on the spicy sauce of her improvised kitchen. The smell was, indeed, amazing, and the vapor coming out of the fire she had lit made your face heat up a little bit as you approached the stand.

Minghao made the order for you, adding some beverages and other couple snacks. Both you and him decided to skip the alcohol, since the drinks you’ve had at the party were already sinking in, and being drunk in the middle of the street wasn’t exactly what you wished for.

And down deep, you hoped that Minghao skipped the alcohol for the sole reason of remembering the night. And remembering you. But you tried not to feed these ideas.

— Shit. — You distractedly whimper as the rice dough fills your mouth, completely steaming and completely spicy. Minghao widens his eyes, pouting a little in your direction as he helps you blow the stick once more, in hopes of making it colder and edible. After you can finally cool off your mouth, you let out some laughter, being followed by the boy in front of you.

— Hey, be careful. — He warns, half kind and half teasing. You feel the pit of your stomach bubbling with something, but you try to believe it was just the hot food entering your systems. — So, what do you think? — Minghao points at the place surrounding you, and you almost sigh in contemplation.

— So much better than that damn party. — It’s all you can say, receiving a loud and gorgeous laugh from him. — And the food is great, too.

— I knew you’d like it. — He smiles tenderly. — Everyone does.

You hum in response, nodding as you take another bite from the stick. Minghao watches you intently, somewhat mesmerized that he had the guts to ask you out so suddenly. He wasn’t used to being a rushed or impatient person. He felt a little weird, but in a nice way he couldn’t really explain.

— Twenty-one question game. — He suggests before he can even stop himself. Your shy smile reveals you liked his idea, and Minghao shifts in the small bench of the tent to take a better look at you. — Favorite color?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

— Your oldest memory? — Minghao asks, strolling casually next to you through the familiar alley you’ve passed before. After some more eating and drinking, such as countless games and questions that turned infinite - since none of you were tired of hearing each other - you decided to head somewhere else. Where? You still had no idea. 

— Well…I remember my old house’s garden very vividly. And butterflies I guess. — You let yourself be surrounded by the darkness of the narrow street, distancing yourself from the noises and lights of the food market. The nocturne air turns colder as you both walk, and you glance at the full moon above you. 

— Gosh, you’re so cute. — Minghao giggled, amused. You try to repress a smile, but fail.

— What’s your oldest memory? — You change the topic of the conversation, turning to look at Minghao abruptly. Not expecting your agility, Minghao is caught by surprise when you bump into his chest, tripping and almost falling to the ground. He is quick to hold onto one of your wrists, pulling you closer by the waist. 

He barely reacts to your proximity, still smiling fondly until he realizes the dubious smile you had in your lips as you analyzed his face so closely. Minghao’s smile disappears little by little, focusing too much on your lips and in the fresh air surrounding you both in the empty alley as your breaths mixed slowly. 

You lift your chin slightly to deviate your look from his lips to his eyes, but Minghao is faster and leans on, brushing your lips softly as he waits for confirmation. You close the space between you, taking his lips on yours fully and eagerly as his grip on your wrist turns lighter, releasing your hand to grab your face. His other hand stops at your waist, caressing the spot as he pulls you even closer, feeling your bodies completely glued together.

Your lips move in sync and you could swear at this moment you’ve never felt this much chemistry with anyone else - it’s as if a new world revealed itself to you through Minghao’s grasp on you. You pull some strands of his hair as your hands run through his neck, making him shudder. Without noticing it, he softly led you until your back met one of the walls of the alley. The pressure against you helped you regain forces, deepening the kiss and earning a groan from Minghao.

Your hands were quick, and so were your heartbeats. Minghao’s hand that relaxed at your waist fell silently to your ass, grabbing it slowly while waiting for a refusal or a complaint that didn’t come. At this point, he could genuinely take you home. You’d say yes. Fuck if you weren’t into one-night stands. Fuck everything. You were enjoying this night much more than you could’ve ever imagined and you didn’t want it to end.

A loud metallic noise echoed right next to you both, startling you. Minghao suddenly distanced himself to take a look at whoever had interrupted you and you almost cursed at the cold that you felt without him. Your eyes widened, feeling the embarrassment for being caught in such a delicate situation.

That was when your vision settled on a small, furry thing, clumsy between the trash cans. 

— Fuck. — You bring your hand to your chest, feeling your blood flowing through every vein. — It’s a kitten. Cute. — You try to shake away the awkwardness as Minghao turns back at you to release the most adorable laugh you’ve ever heard coming through someone’s lips. The lips you’ve just kissed.

Suddenly, your heart skips a beat. How could he be so endearing? And you didn’t even know him!

— My grandmother knitting. — He blurts out, smiling at you as he backs away to give you some space. — The oldest memory, I mean.

— Perfect. — You smile in amusement, straightening up and distancing yourself from the wall behind you. 

— Shall we go? — He suggests opening the path for you. 

— Wait, I know a place close to here! — You exclaimed, excited. Minghao just nodded as you took the lead this time. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

— I don’t think this is going to work… — Minghao pronounces it rationally, but a bit of apprehension escapes from his mouth, making you giggle. You turn to look at him, clumsily walking down through the rocks of the small hill. You extend one of your hands, offering help, but Minghao does not accept it, promising he’s fine. 

You finish your way down, getting to your secret spot as the boy behind you follows. The small pavement below the bridge was perfect to watch the late night city lights reflected through the thin river that passed right through it. With a sigh, Minghao stops by your side, careful not to fall into the water as he adapts.

— That’s definitely…a new perspective. — He comments, approving your location. — I’m usually on top of it. — He points at the bridge above, perfectly shielding you both in its arched form. 

He could see the charm in the place. You could basically see all the city from below, but no one could see you. It felt comfortable. It also felt secretive, and that helped the tingling sensation he kept on feeling all the time he looked at you - it’s almost as if you two were the only people in the world on that night.  

You breathe in the humid air, feeling it through your lungs as you enjoy the silence with Minghao. None of you said a word, but you also didn’t feel like you needed to. It was comfortable to be like this.

— I’ve never done anything like this before. — You suddenly confess, feeling easy next to the boy you had just met. The phrase was suspended into the air, but Minghao got it perfectly.

— Me neither. — He agreed, resolute. 

And with that, both of you understood how special that night was. That sank into your heart, and you felt a deep urge for it not to end - which was impossible, considering the fast pace with which the hours went by. You felt a shiver through your spine, and caressed your own arms for heat. Minghao was fast to remove his own jacket and carefully put it around your shoulders, letting his hands rest in there for a few seconds. You glanced at him from up close, and he softly touched your chin, lifting it tenderly. He closed his eyes, feeling your scent and resting your foreheads together for a while. You also closed your eyes, embracing the feeling of the night - “if this is bound to end soon, I might as well live it fully”. You were the first one to initiate the kiss. 

Differently from earlier, this kiss was truer, more calm and experienced than rushed and passionate. Your lips looked for each other as if they’ve been familiar for a whole lifetime. Jesus, how could you feel like this over a guy you met hours ago?

— Can we go to my place? — Minghao urged in a whisper as he broke the kiss first. You could not help but to widen your eyes at his proposition, feeling odd this time. — Trust me.

And you did. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It was a different view of the city, for sure. Not that you were enjoying it that much from where you were at - after all, Minghao’s lap wasn’t exactly a tourist point, “but it could be…”

You moved in a hurry, your legs on both sides of his seated figure in the sun lounger as you pressed your bodies together once more. The air from the top of the building should be cold, but you couldn’t feel it if your life depended on it. Not with all the heat surrounding the both of you.

When Minghao invited you to his place, he made a risky move. You felt like accepting anything at that point, but his offer ended up being much more gentle - and now you were at the rooftop of his apartment, all alone, being nothing but gentle. 

Your dress was a mess of wrinkles by now, and his jacket was long gone, thrown somewhere on the dirty floor of the open place. And, once again, your lips were on his. And you didn’t want to let it go for the world.

Your hands move fast through his torso and chest, exploring it through the fabric of his t-shirt as he presses his fingers on your waist like you are going to escape at any moment. You move your hips, feeling a heat growing in your stomach at every second now, and even though you didn’t do anything yet, you feel like you could burst.

With a soft whimper, you gasp for air, ending the kiss for a few seconds as you look at Minghao’s big eyes and swollen lips. He looks like a perfect picture, but something glowing on him catches your attention. The sunlight, coming right from behind you. 

— The sun is rising! — You exclaim, excited, turning to look at the beautiful scene that unveils before your eyes, you snug next to Minghao in the sun lounger, trying to watch the mix of colors.

— I know. He does it everyday. — Minghao groans, frustrated by the lack of contact, making you laugh. You scooch even closer, leaning your head on his chest as you circle his waist with one of your arms.

You peacefully watch the sun coming up, little by little, minutes that seem like long hours. You feel Minghao’s breath above you, and his lips hover on the top of your head, leaving there a small kiss. 

That’s when you realize: the night is over, and so is the dream, and so is whatever that you and Minghao had. You could talk again, you could meet through your mutual friends, but nothing would ever be this again. No night could ever be like this one. And it was over, forever.

You feel like watering your eyes because of this could freak him out. You aren’t even sure if he felt the same about you, and you don’t want to ruin the beautiful evening you guys had because of your own internal drama. Maybe he just saw you as this random girl he made out with for the night, and that’d be fine too - but you felt a tiny bit of that magical feeling tearing apart.

— I… I have to go to work. — You mumbled, decided. Minghao stiffened below you, and you felt his grip on your waist tighten a little. 

— Oh, I see… — He whispers back, clearly affected, but still not letting you go. Minghao tried to come up with millions of rational and healthy reasons for you to stay - but none of them worked, and he couldn't just say the truth: that he really wanted you to stay. That he wanted to pass the day with you, and the next night too. That’d be crazy, desperate even, and he didn’t want to freak you out. 

So he finally gives in, loosening the grip on you, and trying not to look devastated while doing it so. Your heart sinks feeling his hand move away, but you try to hold the disappointment in your face.

“What did you think?”, you ask yourself, “that he’d ask you to stay after you throw the most irrefutable fact on his face? that he, a rational and cool guy as he is, would ask you to skip work and stay with him?”

— I’m sorry, but… — Minghao starts, clumsily, as you tidy your clothes, ready to stand up. — Can’t you stay? I mean, do you really have to go? — He sounded hopeful. Sad, but careful.

Your eyes meet his and a silent plea fills the air as your heart races once again.

— Fuck, no. — You sigh, giving in. — I don’t.

Your smiles widen, and the morning breeze swifts gently as you feel a different type of feeling flowing. 

Work can wait for a while.

[hazz-a-bear]

SWEET DREAMS, wen junhui

♡⸝⸝ when you want nothing more than to just close your eyes and go to sleep after weeks of restless exhaustion, Junhui is the only one who's actually capable of lulling you to a slumber at the end of the day.

.ᐟ fluff. comfort. reader has a bad case of insomnia. mention of sexual acts ( just mentioned, not described in detail )

a/n: another junhui one shot because I'm such a sucker for soft junhui. Don't forget to leave feedback <3

masterlist | taglist

It was almost two in the morning. 

After a long day of Jun at practices and you at work, the two of you had finally gotten home to have some shitty take-out food and got ready for bed at around eleven thirty. You and Jun finished your nighttime routine - which was as usual, Jun taking his time with the self-care ritual and you watching him with confused eyes - and got into bed. Now that was almost two hours ago.

Almost half asleep after finishing his skin care, Jun had put out the candle that sat by your bed and turned off the light before laying down next to you. Even if he was falling asleep by the mere second that passed, he had still shuffled close to you, pressing a quick kiss into your forehead and another one to your lips before almost falling on top of your shoulder. As soon as his head was nestled in the familiar spot in your shoulder, Jun's eyes had shut ( as close as they could be obviously ), the day's exhaustion catching up to him. Soon, he was out like a light in the dark.

You, however, have been wide awake since the moment you got into bed.

The fact that sleeping has always been a challenge for you isn't a secret to Jun. He's very well aware of how you've been a target of heavy insomnia since a teenager - never actually been helped out of it. So, wakeful nights without a wink of sleep were rather familiar to both of you since the start of your relationship.

Jun found out about it on a random Thursday when he had decided to spend the night at your apartment for the first time. He came across a couple of medicines that you kept on your nightstand before turning to you with those big eyes of his - confused and questions swimming through them. Very casually, while folding some t-shirts from your laundry, you mentioned your condition. 

The first couple of times he caught you awake in the middle of the night, he suggested going to a doctor to seek medical help, an idea you had turned down almost immediately. "Baby, why?" He had asked you with a pout present in his voice. You couldn't do anything other than smile at him before asking him why he thought the medicine he found was sitting untouched on the nightstand.

After that, Jun went into a spiral of online research about this behind your back. And then in a silent attempt to make it easier for you, he started trying various methods to get you to your sleep a little bit more.

He started with buying candles, and incense sticks and lighting them around your house, hoping it'll get you to relax and eventually drift you off into a slumber. But as he anticipated, it never seemed to work. Whenever he was staying over after that, he started to turn off the lights in your apartment a little earlier to try and lure you into going to bed earlier. However, now, almost six months later, none of his antics worked on you. Jun had been quite sad to see all his plans fail right before his eyes, but you were just too immune to anything at this point.

So eventually, Jun had nothing else to do other than settle down with the idea of you enduring the burden of this sleepless state. Nevertheless, he didn't stop trying to help out however he could.

Even after long days of hard work, Jun would try to stay up with you as long as he could after getting to bed, swearing to wait until you fell asleep. Yet, it always made you upset to see him lay awake knowing he was more exhausted than you and needed his rest for the next day. So as much as you hated to, you had to talk to him about how you didn't want him damaging his sleep schedule just because you were struggling with yours.

After so many hours and days trying to convince him, Jun finally settled with the routine of going to bed together where you'd stay talking until he fell asleep and then go on your phone, reading or listening to something for the rest of the night. The majority of the time, you two followed that routine. But once in a while, you would feel Jun stirring from his sleep at ungodly hours and catch you still awake - resulting in a very whiney Jun trying to lament you into falling asleep as well.

And today, not-so-surprisingly, is one of those days.

When you feel the first surge of movements, you're on your side with your back to Junhui. His arm which was initially thrown across your waist had fallen into the mattress between you, losing grasp when you turned to your side earlier. Your phone is in your hands, the screen in the lowest setting of brightness while you play you'd taken a liking to.

Assuming Jun is just shifting in his sleep, you continue to pay attention to your phone. But you're proven wrong when an arm is suddenly thrown around your waist, settling on your stomach with fingers warm against your skin. Your hands automatically halt on your screen at the movement. Assuming Junhui must have stirred awake by himself. You quickly check the time - 2.03 a.m

"You're awake"

Junhui mumbles into your hair in a groggy voice, clearly still half deep in his sleep. You could only still in his hold for a second before letting out a hum into the darkness around you. The familiar sound of a sigh leaving his lips is an apparent confirmation that he's not exactly happy about waking up to you still lying in bed, phone in hand and far away from actually getting some rest.

"Sweetheart," He tries, voice persistent. "You're going to destroy your eyes"

"I'm not"

You reply to him with a mumble of your lips, eyes still set on completing whatever level of the game you're playing right now. You feel the way Junhui shuffle behind you, now a little more awake as he brings up an arm over your hip to pull you closer to his body. You let yourself be dragged in his arms, Junhui almost draped across your back now. You can feel his breath hot in your ear and his legs tangling with yours as his warmth surrounds you like an octopus. You faintly feel his lips pressing softly to the back of your head before he sits up on his side, bringing up his hand to brush your hair away from your neck. Then a fleeting kiss is pressed to your temple as Junhui lets his lips rest there.

"Yn, baby" He sighs and you know he's not going to give up the fight he's started until you put down your phone and close your eyes. "Can we put the phone away? That's enough for the night, don't you think?"

When he receives no answer from you, Junhui taps your stomach in hopes of getting your attention. "You should try to get a little more sleep, baby"

You finally turn your face towards where he's hovering over for a brief second before turning back to the device. "I can't, Jun. I tried"

"But baby" You can now hear the slightest bit of frustration laced in his voice. "Let's lie down and try a little more, yeah? It's really late, yn. I'll pat your back too"

The screen changes in front of your eyes, letting you know that you've finished this level and requesting you to continue to the next one. Over your shoulder, you can almost feel the way Junhui watches as you click on it.

"I did, Jun. I tried. We came to bed at eleven something, you know? It's past two now"

Jun seems to recognize the tone of your voice, equally as tired and weary in exhaustion. And god forbid he understands when you say you tried your best.

If there was anyone who understood your condition and knew that it has never been easy for you to just effortlessly fall asleep despite being as exhausted as you are - it was Junhui. He knows how even on the days when you just want to close your eyes, turn off your mind and just sleep, you still have to stick to lying there without even a wink whatsoever. It had been a long time since he realized that you're as equally as tired of being like this, opting to try out different things to try and get better. Yet the lack of effective results or any sign of recovery only discouraged you more and more - finally settling in your gut in heavy defeat.

Junhui knows you've reached a certain point of insomnia when you refuse to even get into your bed - wanting to lounge around while staring into a void as a way to prevail through the night. Some nights he would find you curled up on the couch with tears running down from your lifeless eyes as you gaze ahead with an empty glance. There have been days when he would give up his own rest to hold you as you cried, just wanting to keep you close to him and offer you a chance to rest your eyes.

Junhui is very well aware that this isn't something you'd chosen to weather and that you're trying your best to overcome it. And he does his very best to help you like the angel he is.

His solutions usually vary from small gestures like changing the sheets or spraying his perfume on the pillowcases. Sometimes he would bring large scented candles home, always lighting them up around the house and trying to get you to relax. And sometimes he would even just take the bait, push you into the mattress and fuck you into a senseless sleep himself.

Yet, even after all this time, seeing you on the brink of breaking down, rest nowhere near you while you strain yourself day after day without a proper good night's sleep - it breaks him. His heart hurts at the heartbreaking sight of you curled up in the sheets, eyes still open and bouncing off of the screen in front of you.

"What do I need to do, baby? Tell me" He sighs softly, running his fingers down your side as he watches you press away at the game with expert taps. "You haven't gotten any proper rest for this entire week and I'm so so worried, love"

"You don't have to do anything, Jun. It's fine. I'm fine" You murmur, words barely audible. "Go back to sleep, okay? I know you're tired"

You're partially surprised when he goes silent after that, his breathing the only sound that falls on your ears. You expected him to put up another fight and argue against how he doesn't give a shit about his exhaustion any more than yours. But knowing him so well to the point you two are basically merged, you can tell that Junhui is still wide awake despite falling quiet.

Junhui's uneven breath hit your ear in a warm huff of air, tickling your skin lightly. You can tell that he's frustrated by the way he breathes alone. You understand that all he wants right now is to just get you to close your eyes and then his own. But you let your mind pay attention to the game instead of Jun, purely because you knew it would be useless anyway to even try at this point.

Not even two minutes later, the screen flashes with the notification of the completion of yet another level. But before you could even think about continuing, a hand is dashing over your shoulder and grabbing your phone - taking you by utter surprise.

A loud cry of protest leaves your mouth as you immediately sit up once the phone is snatched out of your hand - or at least you try to. Junhui is faster than you though. He's getting up in a flash before he's almost flinging your phone to a corner in your room, his other hand shooting to pin you to the bed by a palm against your face. Pushed right back against the mattress, You struggle against Junhui, who turns to you and almost lays himself completely over your body, trapping you underneath him.

You try to thrash around under him, trying to push the mess of long limbs and fluffy hair off of you but Junhui is one strong guy. He barely shifts when you claw at his skin and try to peel him off of you.

"Jun, get the fuck off of me" You grit through your teeth. "Why did you- ugh, get up, holy shit. Stop-"

After almost a cycle of you screaming for him to scramble away, trying to push him off and reach for the phone yourself - you give up. It's only when Junhui's one hundred per cent sure you are not going to fight back, he finally gets up.

He holds his upper body over your face, peering down at you with his starry eyes as his arms bracket your face. Your own hands come up to hold his forearms, eyes fitting over his as the two of you gaze into each other's faces silently.

It's in instances like this with rushed movements, and panicked conversations does it dawns on you how pretty your boyfriend actually is. His face looming over yours, illuminated by the city lights that seep into your room, hair falling over his forehead in short bangs and sleepy eyes boring into yours - you actually concede why you call him the absolute light of your life.

You only realize tears are running down your face when Junhui dips down to press a kiss against your cheek. Bringing up a hand and balancing himself on the other, he wipes the tear off with a delicate swipe of his thumb over your cheekbone.

"It's okay. I've got you, baby"

The gentle tone in his voice makes you want to cry even more. You can feel all the pent-up exhaustion and frustration finally overflowing the walls built around you when you look into Junhui's eyes - ever so understanding and gentle. When you tip over the edge, he's right there to catch you in his arms in a warm embrace. Junhui dips down to press his lips against your forehead and leaves a trail of kisses against your hairline as you cry out your frustrations under him. Tears dribble out the corner of your eyes, trickling down the sides of your face until the patch of sheet by your ears is damp with your distress.

"I wanna sleep, Jun. I just want - want to sleep. I'm so tired"

Junhui continues to wipe off every tear that trails down your cheeks, his own heart breaking at the sound of your sobbing helplessly, begging for a break from your restless shape. He mumbles reassurances into your skin in the form of softly pressed kisses. His lips are hot against your skin, a contrast to your icy cold skin.

When your cries finally smooth out into silent hiccups, Junhui moves to brush a bit of hair away from your face before leaning down and pressing his lips square against yours. Junhui had always kissed you with so much passion - as if he was trying to convey all the love in his heart through one press of his lips on yours. Junhui kisses like every brush of your lips is going to be his last - mouth numb on yours as he tries to indulge the whole being that is you in the couple of seconds he's got his lips on your skin.

"I wish I could take away all your pain. I really wish I could" The words Junhui mumbles into your lips are barely audible. But somehow, you hear him perfectly fine, eyes watering again when you open your eyes to see him staring at you with the most sincere and softest gaze. His eyes are hooded, exhaustion pulling at the strings of the conscious state he's in - yet Junhui takes his sweet time to rake his eyes over your face, and press a couple more kisses into your lips before lying down next to you.

As soon as his back hits the mattress, you're being tugged into his arms.

Slowly and carefully, Junhui guides you to lie down on his shoulder, face pressed into his neck and hand coming up to rest against his chest. One of Junhui's hands is around you, holding you close to his body with enough strength in a blind attempt to make sure you don't dare escape his embrace at any point. His other arms comes over your shoulder to cuddle you closer, drawing patterns into your skin once he's got you all settled against him.

The familiar silence surrounds the two of you - just like the darkness that envelopes almost all of your room. Yet the quietness is interrupted when you open your mouth in a heavy exhale after a while.

"Jun" You speak into the silence, voice somewhat meek and receiving a familiar hum as a reply. "I'm sorry"

You can almost picture the way his mouth opens in an automatic reassurance, promising him that you didn't have to apologize for something that is completely out of hand. But you decide to beat him to it and continue with your words.

"I know you want me to tell you when I'm not feeling okay but I can't do that to you, Jun. Especially because I know how tired you are. You drain yourself at practices every single day and it makes me feel so shitty when I see you trying to stay awake for me even when you want nothing more than to crash and pass out at the end of the day. I'm sorry, Junhui. I really am"

Junhui sighs from above you, hands tightening against your frame a little bit. "Sweetheart, I'm not going to talk to you about how you have nothing to apologize for because you already know that well enough. But yn, baby, I just want you to get the rest your body needs. You drain yourself at work almost as much as me and it breaks me to know you're struggling by yourself like this. I just want you to be comfortable, yn - the healthiest you, that's what I want"

"I don't care if my sleep schedule gets messed up if it means my baby is finally able to get all the rest she needs, okay? You're so strong, love, you are. But this has been going on for long enough for me to lose my mind over. I want to help you, baby. I want to be able to hold you and tell you that it's okay - that you'll be fine. I'm always here with you baby, I love you so so much"

"Junnie?" You call out once he has finished his monologue with a faint kiss to the crown of your head. The low hum you get in return makes Junhui's chest rumble under your skin.

"Yeah, baby?"

"I don't deserve you"

Junhui almost chuckles in your ear, making you look up at him with a confused gaze. The smile he sends your way is almost blinding against the darkness in the room. "Yes, you do, baby. Yes you do"

Once the silence around them wraps the room for the nth time that night, you feel the weariness of days and the mental exhaustion from your work finally settles deep in your gut. You let yourself be pulled tighter against Junhui's chest for the rest of the night. He let his fingers slowly run up and down your back, trying to slowly coax you into a very much-needed sleep. The light scrape of his blunt nails against your back always helps you fall into a very comfortable headspace.

"I love you, Jun. So much"

"Sleep for me, okay? I love you too, a crazy amount, baby. it drives me insane sometimes"

Junhui once again pressed a light confession of love in the form of a long kiss to the crown of your head before he finally let his own eyes slip shut - his mind hoping it would not take you a lot of time to fall into a slumber of your own after everything you had gone through.

thank you.