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patrixjia · 2 days ago

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No Ordinary Groupie

Plot Overview: You’re Bang Chan’s groupie. It started as a no-strings-attached fling, just the thrill of being close to him after the concerts. But as the nights blur together, so do your feelings—his and yours. What began as fun and games quickly becomes something more complicated, and you’re left wondering if this was ever just about sex or if you’re falling for the one person you can’t have.

Warnings: smut, explicit content, angst, lust/passion, angry sex, emotional intensity, tension and jealousy, explicit language, a bit of degradation, happy ending

☆･ﾟ:✧☆･ﾟ:✧☆☆･ﾟ:✧☆･ﾟ:✧☆☆･ﾟ:✧☆･ﾟ:✧☆☆･ﾟ:✧☆･ﾟ:✧

It started like any other concert. The deafening music, the blinding lights, the collective energy of thousands of voices singing in unison—it all blended into one euphoric moment. But you never imagined you’d be standing here, watching him from across the room, a little too close for comfort. The sweat on his skin, the intensity in his eyes as he scanned the crowd—it was like his gaze lingered a fraction too long. Maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you, but somehow, it always felt like he was looking right at you.

You’d told yourself it was just a coincidence the first few times. You were just another fan in the crowd, right? Another face in a sea of screaming STAYs, eager for a glimpse of their idol. But now? Now you were here backstage, lingering in the shadows, waiting for him like it was your spot. You’d slipped past security more times than you cared to count, your secret handshake with the staff—one only they seemed to know—making it easier each time. You’d been to so many concerts now that your face had become familiar, and with each show, your role seemed to shift. You weren’t just a fan anymore. You were his groupie.

You never thought it would be like this. Hell, you didn’t even know what the fuck a ‘groupie’ really was until it was you—until you were the one he pulled behind closed doors, the one he made sure was always there after the show, the one who stayed when everyone else was long gone. The one he’d kiss like it meant something, only to vanish into the night, leaving you with nothing but the thudding of your heart and the memory of his touch.

It had started with stolen moments—quick glances across the stage, backstage conversations as if no one else was watching. The text messages, casual at first, but slowly, gradually becoming something more. His words would linger, text after text, like a breadcrumb trail leading you deeper into a place you weren’t sure you wanted to go. You’d told yourself you’d stay detached—that you’d just enjoy the ride, keep things light, and move on. But every time he looked at you, every time his hand brushed against yours, every time he grinned like there was a secret only the two of you knew… it became harder and harder to pretend it was just about the music.

The first time you caught his eye? It was during the encore of a show. You’d always thought of him as just another idol, another guy performing for a crowd. You’d seen plenty of famous faces before, but there was something different about him. Maybe it was the way his energy filled the entire room, the way he didn’t just perform but became the music. Maybe it was the intensity in his gaze as he swept over the crowd, his eyes scanning the sea of people until they landed on you.

You didn’t think it was anything special at first. A passing glance, nothing more. You were just another face, another member of the audience, right? But as the seconds stretched on, his gaze didn’t waver. It felt like he was staring at you—like he saw something there that you didn’t even see in yourself. And that look… it was like an unspoken promise. A silent invitation to something you couldn’t name.

After the show, you weren’t expecting anything. But somehow, you found yourself in a coffee shop the next morning, standing in line, hoping to grab a caffeine boost to get through the day. You’d been going about your usual routine, convinced that meeting him the night before was just a one-off encounter. But fate had other plans.

There he was. Chan. In the same coffee shop, no more than a few steps away. You froze, unsure if you should act like you hadn’t seen him or just pretend it wasn’t a big deal. But then, he turned, his smile wide and unbothered like this was the most normal thing in the world.

“I swear, I’m not following you,” he said, his voice light, playful, as he slid into the seat across from you like he had every right to be there.

You couldn’t help but laugh, an involuntary response to the absurdity of it all. “You’re following me now?”

He smirked, taking a sip from his coffee, looking way too comfortable for someone who was supposed to be famous. “I’m just getting coffee. You happen to be in my favorite spot.”

“Uh-huh.” You raised an eyebrow, barely containing the smile tugging at your lips. “I’m sure. You just happened to pick the same coffee shop on the same day at the same time…”

He shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Yeah, alright. You got me. But I’m glad I ran into you.”

There was no hiding the smile that broke across your face. Of course you were glad. After everything that had happened the night before, you both knew this wasn’t just a coincidence. This wasn’t just a random meeting. This was something—something that had started the night before and would continue whether you admitted it or not.

By the time you made it backstage that second night, you were already in too deep.

The whole backstage area felt like it belonged to him—every corner, every hallway, every whispered conversation. It wasn’t the music that kept you there anymore; it was him. The way he looked at you when no one else was watching. The way he touched you, lingering just a bit too long when no one was looking, his fingers brushing your skin like it was the most natural thing in the world. The way he made you feel like you weren’t just a face in the crowd, but someone who mattered to him.

And then, that first time—that first night.

You couldn’t quite remember how it happened, only that it was like everything changed in an instant. One minute, you were standing there, talking casually, as if the world hadn’t shifted under your feet. And then, the next moment, his lips were on yours, demanding, soft, and completely overwhelming. His hands were everywhere—under your shirt, pulling you close, pressing you against him like you were the only thing that mattered.

You could have stopped it. You could have pulled away, told him it was a mistake, told him you weren’t the type of girl who did this. But you didn’t. Because it felt right. In a way you couldn’t explain, it felt like this was where you were supposed to be.

And here you are again. Another concert. Another night where everything feels different. The lights are still blinding, the music still pounding in your chest, but this time, you don’t feel like you’re part of the crowd. This time, you’re his. The one he seeks out, the one he texts between shows, the one who’s always there in the background, waiting for him. It’s complicated, it’s messy, and it’s nothing like what you imagined when you first moved to Seoul.

But you can’t deny it anymore. It’s not just the music you’re here for. It’s him. And now, you’re his ‘regular groupie’. The one who knows all the backstage secrets, the one who gets special treatment, the one who stays long after the lights go out. You’re not just another fan anymore, and neither is he.

You never thought you’d be here. But then again, you never thought you’d end up falling for him.

The moment the final song ends, the roar of the crowd still vibrates through the walls of the venue. The adrenaline is thick in the air, the members still breathless from the performance, their bodies damp with sweat, grins plastered across their faces as they stumble off stage. The energy is chaotic, electric—post-show euphoria still buzzing in their veins.

You’re already waiting in the hallway leading to the dressing rooms, leaning against the wall with a casual ease that only comes from experience. This isn’t your first time here. You know exactly how this goes.

The first to spot you is Seungmin, his eyes lighting up as he jogs toward you. “Hey, look who’s here!” he calls, loud enough to get the others’ attention.

“Y/N!” Han beams, his voice slightly hoarse from performing but still bright with excitement. “How was it? Did we kill it or what?”

Felix, still buzzing with energy, practically bounces on his heels as he waits for your answer, while Hyunjin shoots you a knowing grin from behind him, tossing his sweat-damp hair out of his face.

“You guys were insane,” you say with a wide smile, your voice genuine. “Every show I go to, you just keep getting better. The energy, the performance, everything was unreal.”

Chan appears through the group, his presence like gravity, pulling your attention immediately to him. He’s still catching his breath, his hair a mess, sweat glistening on his skin, but his eyes—his eyes are locked onto you, unreadable yet intense.

Then, that smile. The slow, lazy curve of his lips, the kind that makes your stomach tighten, your pulse spike.

“Hey, beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice just low enough for you to hear over the chaos of the dressing room.

His arm finds your waist like it belongs there, fingers pressing lightly against the small of your back as he pulls you in. It’s subtle, almost casual, but the warmth of his body against yours is anything but. It’s a quiet claim, one that doesn’t need to be spoken.

The others, used to this by now, don’t bat an eye. They just keep laughing and talking, still riding the high of the show.

Then, Chan leans in just a fraction closer, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. “Come back to the dorm with us. Little afterparty, just to celebrate.”

You tilt your head slightly, meeting his gaze. There’s something behind those words—something heavier than just a casual invitation.

“And after a few drinks?” you tease, your voice low, playful.

His smirk deepens. “Something more,” he promises, fingers subtly squeezing at your waist.

You pretend to consider it for a second before giving a small nod. “Alright. You convinced me.”

From the side, Minho watches the exchange with a quiet knowing. He doesn’t say anything—doesn’t call Chan out for the way he looks at you, for the way his hands linger on you longer than necessary. He just observes, his gaze sharp, understanding something that maybe even Chan himself isn’t ready to admit.

Chan pulls away, satisfied, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something deeper, something unspoken.

“We’ll head out in a bit,” he says, turning toward the others. “Y/N will meet us there.”

You already know the drill. You can’t just walk out with them, not without risking recognition. So, as the members pile into their usual cars, you’re led to a separate vehicle—a staff car, discreet, barely noticeable.

You settle into the backseat, the events of the night replaying in your mind, but most of all—his voice, that promise lingering in the space between your ribs.

Something more.

And you wonder, not for the first time, if either of you even knows what that really means anymore.

The atmosphere in the dorm is lively, the kind of buzz that lingers long after a good show. The music is playing low in the background, the members scattered across the living room, sprawled on couches or sitting on the floor. Empty soju bottles and half-eaten snacks litter the table, proof of the celebration already in full swing.

You’re comfortably seated on the couch, a half-filled shot glass of soju in hand, the warmth of alcohol already settling pleasantly in your veins. The energy is light, effortless, the conversations flowing easily between teasing and reminiscing about the night’s performance.

“You seriously nailed that last verse, Jisung,” you say, pointing your glass at him before taking a sip. “You looked possessed out there.”

Jisung laughs, leaning back with a smug grin. “Possessed by talent, obviously.”

“Possessed by something,” Felix chimes in, making the group chuckle.

From beside you, Chan snorts, shaking his head. He’s sitting close—not close enough to be obvious, but close enough that you can feel the heat of him, the awareness that’s always there between you two. His arm is stretched over the back of the couch, fingers occasionally brushing the ends of your hair, subtle but deliberate.

You glance at him, playful. “You were good too, I guess.”

Chan scoffs, tilting his head with an amused smirk. “Guess?”

You hum, tapping a finger against your chin as if you’re in deep thought. “Yeah, I mean… you were okay,” you tease, dragging out the word just to rile him up. “Not bad for a guy pushing thirty.”

The others burst out laughing, while Chan gapes at you, feigning offense. “Are you serious right now?”

“I’m just saying,” you shrug, barely biting back your grin.

“You know what?” He leans in a little, voice low enough that only you can hear. “I’ll remember that later.”

Your stomach flips at the weight in his tone, at the underlying promise beneath his words. You tilt your head, smirking. “Oh? You gonna prove me wrong?”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head, but there’s a flicker of something dark in his eyes. “You have no idea.”

Before you can retort, Changbin—who has definitely had one too many shots of soju—suddenly flops onto the couch beside you, his broad arm slinging over your shoulders.

“You’re so fun to have around, Y/N,” he says, his voice slightly slurred but affectionate. “Seriously, why aren’t you here all the time?”

You chuckle, leaning into his side without much thought. “Because I have a job, Binnie.”

He makes a dismissive sound, tightening his hold around you in a half-hug. “Your job should be hanging out with us.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, amused, but doesn’t say anything. Jisung snickers behind his glass.

You just shake your head, entertained. “Oh yeah? I should just quit and become your full-time party companion?”

“Yes!” Changbin exclaims, grinning. His hand slides down to your waist, resting there casually, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns over the fabric of your shirt. It’s nothing too much, nothing you haven’t seen before—Changbin is always like this when he drinks, all warm affection and teddy bear energy.

So you don’t think anything of it. You indulge him, letting him rest his head against yours, laughing when he dramatically sighs and says something about how comfortable you are.

But you don’t see the way Chan’s jaw tenses.

He’s watching. Burning.

The fingers resting on the couch behind you curl into a fist. His easygoing posture remains the same, but there’s a tightness to his shoulders, a flicker of something sharp in his expression.

Because he knows what Changbin is doing.

It’s not random, not just the usual drunk affection. No, Changbin is making a point—a very deliberate one. Because unlike you, he knows exactly how deep this runs for Chan.

And Chan hates it.

Hates how easily you lean into it. Hates how you laugh, how you let Changbin touch you so freely. Hates how unbothered you look—how it doesn’t even register to you that this might be a problem.

Because to you, this is just fun.

But to him?

This is his worst fucking nightmare unfolding in real-time.

Still, he doesn’t say anything.

Not yet.

He just grips his shot glass a little too tight, jaw clenched, the warmth in his veins now burning.

And the worst part?

Changbin smirks at him from over your shoulder.

Like he knows.

Like he’s challenging him.

And fuck—Chan hates losing.

Changbin hasn’t moved from your side. If anything, he’s only gotten bolder, the soju clearly fueling his every action.

His fingers, once resting innocently at your waist, now trace absentminded patterns over your hip. His arm around you lingers a little too long, his body leaning into yours just enough that the line between friendly and something else starts to blur.

And then there’s the flirting.

“Come on, Y/N,” Changbin says, voice playful, slurred just enough to be noticeable. “You sure you don’t wanna quit your job and just be my personal cheerleader?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Oh? Yours specifically?”

“Obviously,” he grins. “I’d treat you right, you know? Spoil you. Carry you around the house if you’re too tired. You’d never have to lift a finger.”

From across the room, Jisung snorts. “Dude, you can barely carry your own weight when you’re drunk, let’s be serious.”

Changbin ignores him, his focus entirely on you. “Think about it, though,” he hums, his fingers lightly drumming against your thigh now, his voice dipping into something suggestive. “Bet you’d love the attention.”

You scoff, nudging him playfully. “You’re full of shit, Binnie.”

But you’re smiling, entertained by his antics. Because to you, this is just how he is—warm, affectionate, a little ridiculous when he drinks.

You don’t notice the way the room has shifted.

The way everyone has gone quiet.

The way Chan hasn’t said a single fucking word.

But the others? They see it.

Felix glances between the two of you and Chan, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Jisung raises an eyebrow, like he’s waiting for the inevitable.

And Minho—Minho just sighs, shaking his head slightly, because he knows. Knows exactly what Changbin is doing.

And he knows exactly why it’s working.

Because across from you, Chan is seething.

His fingers grip his shot glass so tightly his knuckles have gone white. His jaw is locked, his breathing slow and measured, like he’s forcing himself to keep it together.

But his eyes.

His eyes are burning, locked onto every single movement, every single touch, every single word that leaves Changbin’s mouth.

And then, Changbin—fucking Changbin—takes it one step further.

He turns his head, leans in just a little closer, his lips near your ear as he murmurs, “Or maybe you already like all the attention you’re getting, huh?”

And that’s it.

There’s the sharp, sudden scrape of glass against wood as Chan slams his drink onto the table, standing up so abruptly that the entire room freezes.

His chair scrapes back against the floor, his movements tight, controlled—but his expression?

Fury.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

The words slice through the air, low and dangerous, his voice taut with restrained anger.

You blink, startled, finally looking up at him. “What?”

But Chan isn’t looking at you.

He’s staring directly at Changbin, his eyes dark, his body tense, barely keeping himself in check.

Changbin, to his credit, doesn’t back down. If anything, he looks satisfied, like he’s been waiting for this.

“What?” he echoes, feigning confusion. “What’s the big deal, hyung?” His voice is light, taunting. “I mean… after all, you’re just fucking, right? That’s what you said. Or what?”

Silence.

A thick, suffocating silence that stretches through the room.

Chan’s entire body locks up.

And the worst part?

You feel everything shift.

Because the way Chan stiffens—the way his breath catches—tells you everything.

This isn’t just about Changbin being drunk.

This isn’t about harmless flirting.

This is about something else entirely.

And suddenly, you get it.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

The tension in the room is thick, suffocating.

No one moves. No one breathes.

And then—Chan laughs.

But it’s not his usual laugh. It’s not warm, not full of amusement.

No, this is something sharp, something bitter, something that barely conceals the sheer rage simmering beneath his skin.

He tilts his head slightly, his jaw clenched so tightly you can practically hear his teeth grinding together. His hands ball into fists at his sides, muscles tensed like a predator about to pounce.

“Say that again,” Chan says, his voice dangerously low.

His tone makes the hairs on your arms stand up.

Changbin leans back slightly, but his expression is unapologetic, his mouth curling into something almost challenging. “I said,” he repeats, slow, deliberate, “what’s the big deal, huh? You’re just fucking, right? That’s what you said. Or what?”

The second time he says it, the words sting.

Because now you’re fully aware—of the way Chan’s fists are shaking, of the barely contained fury in his eyes, of the way his entire body looks like it’s about to snap.

But most of all—you’re aware of your own reaction.

Of the way your stomach twists.

Of the way your chest tightens.

Because it’s true.

That’s what Chan’s always said. That’s the unspoken rule between you two, the line that’s been drawn and reinforced over and over again.

And yet—he’s standing there, looking like he wants to fucking kill Changbin for just saying it out loud.

The air crackles, seconds stretching into an eternity.

And then—Chan moves.

Faster than you can register, he lunges.

The table between them rattles as Chan grabs a fistful of Changbin’s shirt, yanking him forward, their faces inches apart.

“You think you’re funny?” Chan growls, voice thick with barely contained rage. “You think this is a fucking joke?”

Changbin’s smirk falters slightly, but he doesn’t look scared. If anything, he looks vindicated.

“Oh, I know it’s not a joke,” he says, his voice lower now, something pointed in it. “But you keep acting like it is. Maybe it’s time you fucking admit it, Chan.”

Chan’s nostrils flare, his fingers tightening in Changbin’s shirt.

“Chan,” Minho warns, standing now, his voice calm but firm.

But Chan isn’t listening. His breathing is heavy, his entire body coiled, seething with something primal.

And then—Changbin glances at you.

Right at you.

And his next words are for you, not Chan.

“You really think this is just sex?” Changbin asks, voice quieter, almost pitying. “Because if you do—” His gaze flicks back to Chan, and he smirks. “Then why is he about to beat my ass over it?”

Something cracks in Chan’s expression.

Like something inside him has just snapped open, raw and exposed.

You feel it happen.

And it makes your heart fucking race.

Before anyone can react, Chan lets go of Changbin’s shirt—but only to turn on you.

The shift is instant. One second, he’s staring Changbin down like he’s about to throw a punch—the next, he’s grabbing your wrist, tight, his grip possessive.

Your breath catches.

“Come with me,” Chan says, voice low, rough—demanding.

You freeze. “Chan—”

“Now.”

The authority in his tone leaves no room for argument. He’s not asking.

And you—fuck, you should resist. You should say something, should call him out for how he’s acting.

But you don’t.

Because the way he’s looking at you—the fire in his eyes, the sheer desperation laced beneath the anger—sends a rush of heat down your spine so intense it almost knocks the air out of you.

So when he pulls you toward his room, his grip unrelenting, his movements rough, you don’t fight it.

You follow.

And the moment the door slams shut behind you, you know exactly what’s coming next.

And fuck—you want it.

The second the door slams shut, Chan has you.

Your back barely hits the wood before his mouth is on you, crushing against yours in a kiss that is desperate, furious, all teeth and tongue and raw need.

You gasp into it, barely able to keep up as his hands roam—gripping your waist, sliding up your sides, pressing you against the door like he needs you there.

And fuck—you feel it.

The anger. The frustration. The jealousy that’s been burning in him, now spilling out in the way he holds you, in the way he devours you.

This isn’t just sex.

This is a claim.

You barely have a second to process before he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head against the door, his breath hot against your mouth.

“You think this is just fucking?” he growls, his voice rough, dangerous. “That what you think, huh?”

Your breath hitches.

“Chan—”

“Answer me.”

You swallow, your body burning beneath his touch. “I—”

But you can’t. You can’t answer, because you don’t know.

Because the way he’s looking at you right now—like he needs you, like he hates that he needs you—makes your head spin.

His grip on your wrists tightens, his body pressing flush against yours, pinning you there.

“Changbin touches you once,” he grits out, his jaw clenched, “and suddenly you forget who you belong to?”

Your stomach drops.

Your lips part, but no words come out.

And Chan notices.

His eyes flick between yours, something dark flashing in them—something possessive, something dangerous.

“That it?” he breathes, his voice low, pressing in even closer. “Say it.”

Your body shudders.

Because you can’t.

Because the moment you open your mouth, the only thing that comes out is a ragged, “Chan—”

And that’s all it takes.

Something inside him fucking snaps.

Suddenly, his grip breaks—only for his hands to move fast, dragging down your arms, over your shoulders, grabbing your hips as he spins you around, pressing your front against the door now, his chest firm against your back.

“You want me to remind you?” he murmurs darkly against your ear, his hands sliding under your shirt now, gripping at your bare skin. “Want me to show you?”

Your breath stutters, your fingers flexing against the door.

“Chan—”

“Say yes,” he rasps. “Say fucking yes.”

And fuck—fuck—you do.

“Yes.”

And then?

All hell fucking breaks loose.

The second the word yes leaves your lips, Chan moves.

His hands yank at your clothes, his patience completely shattered. The shirt you’re wearing is gone in seconds, peeled off like it’s offended him just by existing. His fingers dig into your waist, pressing you harder against the door, making sure you feel just how much he wants this—wants you.

“Fucking teasing me all night,” he grits against your ear, his breath hot, his tone dangerous. “Letting him put his fucking hands on you like it’s nothing.”

You shudder, your forehead falling against the door as his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants, dragging them down your hips, leaving you bare.

“I—”

“You what?” he interrupts, his palm smacking against your thigh before gripping at the flesh, kneading hard. “Didn’t notice? Didn’t think it was a big deal?”

You whimper at the sheer possessiveness laced in his voice, at the way his hands are claiming you.

“Didn’t think it’d fucking matter,” you gasp, your cheek pressing against the cool wood.

Chan laughs—but it’s dark, bitter.

“Didn’t think it’d matter?” His teeth graze the shell of your ear before he bites down, just hard enough to make you gasp. “Look at where you fucking are right now, baby. Look at what I’m about to do to you.”

His hands are everywhere—gripping, marking, making sure you feel him. His breath is ragged, his movements rough, his usual careful touches completely gone.

Because tonight isn’t about taking it slow.

It’s about making a fucking point.

You belong to him.

And by the time he’s done with you—you won’t forget it again.

Chan’s hands are everywhere—gripping, pulling, forcing you closer to him with each sharp motion. He’s barely holding on to the last sliver of control, and it’s obvious in the way his fingers dig into your skin, the way his breath comes out in heavy, uneven pants.

His mouth trails down your neck, biting harshly at your skin, marking you like a fucking claim.

“You think you can tease me like that?” he spits, his voice hoarse with frustration. “Think you can let him touch you and nothing’s going to happen? You really think you’re just gonna waltz in here and walk out untouched?”

The anger in his tone is palpable, each word hitting you like a blow, each word reminding you how much he wants this, how much he’s burning for it.

You can barely hold yourself steady against the door. His hands are pulling at your underwear, tossing it aside with the same force as the rest of your clothes, stripping you of any semblance of control.

You’re shaking, your mind spinning as you finally understand the depth of his frustration. This is no longer about just sex—it’s about him needing to own you in the worst way possible. He’s not asking for permission. He’s demanding it.

His fingers slide between your legs, making you flinch at the roughness of the touch. He’s not being gentle. He’s not being careful. He’s giving you exactly what you’ve awakened in him—a need, a hunger that won’t be tamed.

“You’re mine,” he growls, voice low and dark. “Mine to fuck, mine to touch. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You gasp, his fingers moving faster now, pushing you closer to the edge with each rough motion, but you don’t know if it’s because of him or the frustration rising inside you.

“Chan—please…” You don’t know if you’re begging for mercy or for more, but he’s not stopping.

“You want it? Want me to fuck you like you’re begging for it?” He growls, his hands pulling at your hips, guiding you to him. The heat from his body feels like a furnace behind you, and you’re desperate for it, desperate to feel all of him.

Without warning, he slams into you—hard, unforgiving.

You moan, your hands scrambling against the door for balance as he begins a pace that’s frantic, angry. There’s no rhythm, no gentleness. Just a fucking need to feel you, to claim you, to show you who you belong to.

Each thrust is a punishment. Each movement feels like an explosion of frustration, of desire that has finally been set free. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, but it’s not enough to calm the storm between you.

The only thing that matters is the sound of his voice—growling, demanding, pushing you to the edge of everything.

His hands grab your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck, his mouth now ravaging your skin like he’s trying to mark you for good. His words are gritted out in between thrusts, filled with venom and need.

“You think you’re just gonna walk away from me? Think I’ll let you leave here, like nothing ever happened?” His voice drops lower, almost a whisper. “You’re fucking wrong.”

You can barely breathe, your body giving in to him, to the need, to the rage he’s pouring into you. The heat between you is suffocating, overwhelming.

You’re his. In this moment, you’re nothing but his.

And when the pressure builds to a point where you can’t take it anymore, you give in, your body shattering around him, your fingers gripping at the door for dear life.

But he doesn’t stop.

He keeps fucking you, pulling you back into him with an intensity that makes everything burn.

You hear him curse under his breath, and with a final, powerful thrust, he follows, his body jerking against yours as he holds you tight, like he’s afraid to let go, afraid to lose the one thing that’s finally his.

The two of you are left panting, sweating, your bodies still locked together.

And as he pulls away slightly, his hands find your hips again, guiding you back toward the door.

Neither of you says a word. Not yet.

The silence between you is heavy. Too heavy.

But Chan doesn’t look at you with the same anger anymore. There’s something darker in his eyes, something that hasn’t quite settled yet.

And you know.

This isn’t over.

Chan’s hands are back on you before you can even catch your breath. He grabs your arm, tugging you towards the bed with a force that makes your heart race. He’s silent, but the anger in his eyes is louder than any words he could say. There’s no softness in the way he touches you, no tenderness, just an urgency that makes everything else disappear.

He doesn’t give you a moment to think before he’s pushing you down onto the mattress, positioning you with a swift, almost harsh movement. The edge of the bed digs into your knees, and you don’t have the chance to protest before he’s behind you, his hands gripping your hips to steady you.

“You don’t get to act like this,” he growls, voice thick with frustration. There’s no hesitation, no slowing down, and it’s clear this is no longer about lust—it’s about something deeper, something darker, something that’s been simmering beneath the surface for way too long.

You feel the cool air against your skin as he presses against you, his body hard and unforgiving. His breath is hot on your neck as he speaks again, each word a harsh reminder of everything that’s been building.

“Thought you could just waltz in here and let him put his hands on you,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “Thought you could just—”

Before he can finish the thought, he thrusts into you, a sharp, punishing movement that makes your body stiffen in response. The pain is quick, the intensity raw, and there’s no gentleness in his touch—this is his punishment. For everything.

His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you back against him, and the way he moves is rough—demanding, punishing, as if he’s trying to carve the frustration out of him.

You can’t breathe properly, every thrust pushing you further down, the bed creaking beneath you, but it’s almost impossible to focus on anything other than the overwhelming force with which he’s taking you.

“This is what happens when you act like a slut,” he growls, each word punctuated by a brutal thrust. “You think I wouldn’t notice?”

You want to answer, want to push back, but your words get caught in your throat as he pulls you back to him again. You’re lost in this—lost in the anger, the tension, the sheer intensity of what he’s doing.

His grip on you doesn’t loosen. It tightens with every movement, as if he’s afraid to let you go. His body presses against yours, his breath ragged in your ear, his voice demanding, possessive.

“You don’t walk away from me,” he spits, the words almost a command, a declaration of his need, his desire, his control.

The rawness of the moment, the way he’s fucking you in such a frantic, desperate way, makes everything inside you twist, your body responding to his anger, to the heat, to the frustration.

And when he finally speaks again, his voice lower this time, softer almost, it feels like the weight of the moment hits you. “You’re mine. Don’t forget it.”

As the tension between you both builds, Chan’s movements become more frantic, more desperate. The anger, the frustration, the unspoken emotions—everything is tangled together in this moment. And as his body presses into yours with a final, powerful thrust, a gasp escapes your lips. His name slips out in a breathless moan, and everything inside you breaks, the pressure, the need, the raw energy finally unraveling.

He follows right behind you, his body tense and straining as he shudders, pushing himself deeper with one last, heavy motion. His hands dig into your sides, holding you in place as he rides out the last waves of his release, his breath harsh in your ear. The world seems to slow down as you both find your rhythm, as the energy between you finally begins to settle.

Chan, still pressed against your back, stays there for a moment, both of you still tangled together, unable to move just yet. His fingers slowly loosen their grip on your waist, but he doesn’t let go. The weight of his body on yours is comforting, almost possessive, and his breath fans over your ear.

“You feel that?” he murmurs, voice rough and low, like he’s barely holding it together. His lips brush against your neck, leaving a trail of heat behind. “I fucking love fucking you.”

The words hang in the air, loaded with meaning, and the rawness of the moment lingers as the intensity of the night finally starts to settle.

He pulls away just enough to look at you, his gaze heavy, his chest still heaving from the intensity of it all. There’s something in his eyes—something possessive, something soft, but raw all at once. He’s still trying to piece together the storm that just passed between you both.

He doesn’t move right away. Neither of you does. And even though the anger has died down, the connection is undeniable now, clearer than ever.

As Chan pulls away, the silence between you both feels heavier than the storm of emotions that just ravaged the room. Your heart is still pounding, your skin flushed, but there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Everything is so intense, and yet there’s something lingering that feels like it should have been addressed—something more.

You push yourself up, your legs shaky as you sit on the edge of the bed, the cool air feeling sharp against your heated skin. The satisfaction from moments ago seems to slip away, replaced by something darker, something uncertain. You want to understand, but you can’t.

Your voice trembles, shaky with frustration, as the tears start to pool behind your eyes. You look at him, his gaze still soft but guarded, his chest rising and falling with every breath. But you can’t ignore the feeling creeping up inside you—the anger, the confusion, the hurt.

“That’s all?” You say, your voice tight. “You just love fucking me?”

The words taste bitter in your mouth, like they don’t even belong to you. You never thought you’d be the one asking these questions, and yet, here you are, lost in the aftermath of his raw need.

Chan’s silence stretches, his jaw clenching, eyes still on you, but it’s like he’s struggling to form an answer. He’s not the one caught in the mess this time—it’s you.

“I don’t fucking understand, Chan!” You stand up now, unable to stay still, your body trembling with frustration. “We do this over and over, but you don’t even talk about it. Don’t even acknowledge it.”

Your hands curl into fists at your sides. “What the fuck, baby?!” The words escape in a rush, the emotion finally pouring out of you. You’re not even sure if you’re angry or heartbroken, but your voice cracks as the tears finally spill over. “What are we doing? What do you want from me?”

You wipe your face, your hands shaking. “Am I just a fucking game to you, Chan? Is that it?” Your breath hitches. “Because I can’t— I can’t do this anymore if you don’t—”

That’s when he moves. Fast, like he can’t stand seeing you like this anymore. His hand reaches out, gripping your wrist to pull you towards him with a desperation you weren’t expecting. He’s on his knees in front of you now, his face inches from yours. His voice is low, strained, a mix of frustration and something softer, something deeper.

“No,” he breathes out. His eyes lock onto yours, and there’s an intensity in them that makes your heart stop. “No.” He presses his forehead to yours, both of you breathing heavily. “It’s not like that.” His voice cracks with the weight of the words he’s finally letting slip.

“I don’t fucking know how to say this,” he admits, his hands shaking slightly as they rest on your waist. His thumb brushes against your skin, almost like he’s grounding himself. “But this… this isn’t just about sex. It never was. I—”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes softer now, full of that raw vulnerability that he’s rarely shown. “I care about you, Y/N.”

You feel your chest tighten at the confession, the weight of it crashing into you. It’s almost too much to process, too sudden. You’re a mess, your tears still fresh on your cheeks, but there’s something in the way he’s looking at you now that’s different. Something that finally feels real.

“I can’t just fuck you and let you walk away,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “You mean something to me. You’ve always meant something.”

Your heart flutters, but you’re still confused. “Then why the hell do you keep doing this? Why push me away?”

Chan’s expression softens even more, and his hands come up to cup your face gently, wiping away the remnants of your tears. “Because I’m scared, okay?” He finally admits, his voice shaky. “I don’t know what to do with this. With us.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but silence. It’s thick, but there’s a vulnerability there that wasn’t before. You’re both breathing heavily, still trying to understand what just happened, what you’ve just confessed to each other.

“I’ve never been good at this… at feeling things, Y/N.” His voice is almost apologetic. “But I can’t lie anymore. I want you. I want more than just the fucking. But I don’t know how to make you understand that.”

You stay quiet, letting his words sink in. You’re still processing everything, but it’s clear that the anger between you is shifting into something else. Something that feels real.

“So, what now?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper, your heart still racing but lighter now, finally beginning to understand the rawness of it all.

Chan takes a deep breath, his fingers gently cupping your face as his eyes trace over every detail of your expression. He can see the vulnerability, the confusion, and the hope all mixed together in your gaze. He knows this moment—this conversation—is the turning point, and he wants to make sure he doesn’t screw it up.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before lowering his lips to your jaw, placing gentle, lingering kisses along the sensitive skin there. His hands slip around your waist, guiding you back onto the bed with careful, deliberate movements. His body hovers above yours, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from him, but not pressing—just enough to keep the connection. His gaze is soft now, steady, as he speaks again, voice lower, softer than before.

“Now,” he murmurs, his lips grazing your neck as he speaks, “now you let me take you out on a proper date.” His breath is warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as his hands trail down to your hips, gently caressing the curves of your body. “I’ll buy you flowers,” he continues, his words a whisper against your skin, “take you to a nice place to eat… and we’ll see from there.”

You close your eyes for a moment, the tenderness of his words colliding with the warmth of his touch. It’s so different from the rawness of before—so much gentler, more vulnerable. And something about it makes you give in, your body relaxing beneath his touch, your fingers curling into the sheets.

“I never thought I’d hear that from you,” you say with a soft laugh, a playful edge creeping into your voice despite the emotion you still feel in the pit of your stomach. “A date… flowers? You sure you’re not just saying that to get in my good graces?”

His lips pull into a smirk as he pulls away slightly to look at you, his gaze filled with amusement. He leans in again, kissing your neck softly before brushing his lips against your ear. “Trust me, I’m not that smooth,” he says, his voice teasing, yet sincere. His hands move back up your body, gently running along your arms, the touch almost too tender compared to the previous moments. “I’m just trying to make this right.”

You feel your heart flutter again, his affection suddenly making you feel like you’re the only person in the world. Chan isn’t just saying these things—he’s showing you, in the way he holds you, in the way his touch is no longer rough but soft, deliberate. His hands caress your arms and shoulders, a gentle reminder that the anger has melted away, replaced by something deeper. You meet his eyes again, allowing yourself to fall into this moment with him.

“You always know how to make me feel conflicted,” you say, your lips curling into a smile despite yourself. You run your fingers through his hair, just to feel him a little closer, to keep this connection.

He chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. “I’m full of surprises,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. His lips trail down to your collarbone, his hands now resting lightly on your waist as if holding you in place, not to restrain you but to keep you with him. “But seriously, Y/N… I don’t want to keep pretending like this is just a thing that happens. You deserve more. And I want to give you more.”

His words strike you deeper than you expect, and you let out a small breath, the weight of everything sinking in. The sincerity in his voice, in his touch—it’s enough to make your chest tighten with a mix of emotions.

“Then show me,” you whisper, meeting his gaze again. “Show me you mean it.”

He nods, his hand gently brushing the side of your face as he moves even closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, not desperate or angry, but slow, tender. It’s a kiss that feels like an unspoken promise, something more than just the heat between you. It feels like the beginning of something new, something real.

He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you still tangled together in the quiet aftermath of everything. “I’ll take you anywhere you want, Y/N. Just say the word,” he says, his voice soft and sincere. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght

#bang chan #stray kids #skz #bang chan fanfic #skz smut #kpop smut #bang chan smut #stray kids fanfic #bang chan x y/n #bang chan skz #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan stray kids

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cherie-doll · 21 hours ago

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Hi! I hope you’re doing really, really well, beautiful. So, I was wondering if you could write something about what the COD guys would be like on their wedding day. Maybe how their weddings would go—whether they’d be big or small, or where they’d get married? I’ll leave it up to your imagination. Thanks so much!!!🤍💌^^

what a lovely thing to imagine <3

(sorry i am getting to these so late, i've been so incredibly busy bc i forget that im somehow an adult and i have to do adult things, there's just kind of a lot on my plate rn, if only y’all could see the mess my desk is in with trying to write and the paperwork everywhere but this was so fun to write tysm for this ask <33)

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Their Wedding Day

༢ུ· Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

I'd like to think that Price would have a pretty big wedding, I mean just think of all the people he knows and has met along the years coming to celebrate this day, there's some people he's close with and even consider his family, of course they won't miss out on this opportunity to be there for him, the speeches would take forever because everyone wants to say something

He's just so happy on this day that he can't think of anything else, he doesn't care about whether the wedding is at a venue, church, barn, outdoors, he just cares that everything turns out alright, so he'll be perfectly fine if you decide to go with something simpler

If you're nervous while walking down the aisle he'll be waiting for you at the altar, smiling and looking at you the entire time, gazes meeting and transmitting a warmth and calming energy that everything has and will turn out just how you want it

He just considers himself the luckiest man alive to be able to marry you

Ghost

His wedding wouldn't be big, something on the more average/small size, he has his close friends by his side and doesn't want to bother inviting anyone else he hasn't talked to in the past year, he knows exactly who truly cares and who deserves to be there

He'd groan seeing Johnny stand up to give a speech knowing he's about to sit through some embarrassingly horrid stories this man is about to spill

That is unless you have a lot of people you know, he wouldn't be at all against you inviting your share of people to the wedding he just doesn't want the reception to last too long to the point he's feeling more drained or stressed on the joyous occasion

After the ceremony and eating he'd be fine for MAYBE three hours max before suggesting y'all sneak off and just go to your room for the night, doesn't give a single fuck that it's his wedding he's going to let the guests have their fun while you have yours a little earlier than what you planned

Soap

He'd be nervous on the day, he's standing there, nervously smiling as he fidgets with his fingers, fixing his tie, his eyes wandering about the room until he hears the crowd gasp and he looks to the other side and sees you standing there, he is in awe of how you look, and when you get to stand in front of him he tells you how breathtaking you look, you jokingly ask if you don't always look breathtaking and he responds that you look especially radiant today

He's so lost in your eyes that when he has to answer "I do" he doesn't even hear the question, his mind not registering anything other than how stunning you look, the crowd laughs when he has to snap out of it and stammer an "I do"

When he goes in for the kiss he goes a bit too far and it almost turns into a heated kiss but you have to tap his shoulder reminding him that there's probably a kid or two among the guests

He is so happy he doesn't even care who is or isn't amongst the crowd, that lame ex of yours who somehow snuck in when you didn't even invite him? He barely bats and eye at it and just pulled you close for a kiss whenever they came near

Gaz

Both of you just keep sharing deep, meaningful looks as you see all the people you're the closest with arriving, he probably gets emotional when he was trying his best trying to keep it in and not lose it while he listened to your say your vows, especially when you momentary look up at him to say it

And he's waiting for when the officiant says he can kiss you so he can reach out, one arm around your waist and another cupping your face as he places a tender kiss on your lips just so when he pulls back you see the brightest smile on his face

I think a beach wedding would be ideal for him, idk he just seems like the outdoorsy type, and this is the best place he could come up with when asked where he'd like to get married, that or maybe in the mountains where he can see the beautiful scenery as you say yours vows

He'd love it if you watched the sunset together that day, as if nature were also sealing this promise between you, the scenery would one day serve as a nostalgic memory on which he can think back fondly of, everything from the soft breeze in the air, whether it be the sound of waves crashing as they reach his feet at the beach or the smell of pine trees in the mountainside

Roach

Omg y'all would would the cutest outdoor wedding, just imagine having it in a garden or by a beautiful lake with the golden sun that shines not in a harsh way but instead in a pleasant manner

And you both have your little quirks added in here and there, you compliment each other super well in that aspect that it's not even seen as unusual if the other references something because you totally get it

He'd have imagined this a million times, the night before he rehearsed his vows over and over again, he doesn't look up quotes or what to say, no this man lies on the floor and waits for the words to come to him, and the phrases that he writes come so naturally that he's having a hard time keeping it on only one sheet of paper

He'd probably go off the script, saying more than he intended until you're having to control yourself before you tackle and press kisses all over his face from now much you love him

He closes his eyes and feels incredibly lucky to have lived long enough to meet you and survive long enough through those missions to earn his moment of happiness that he hopes will last for the rest of his life

Alejandro

Have you heard of Mexican weddings? Anyone who finds out about the wedding is attending even if they weren’t originally invited and that last bit of dancing and drinking? It could go on until the next day

Forget getting any sleep, there is so much to stress over because the amount of people arriving could almost count for a festival itself, so much food is being prepared for all the guests that it’s overwhelming

And Alejandro would love every second of it, it’s all fun having so many people come together to celebrate and wish you all a happy marriage

The ideal place for Alejandro to get married would be at a cathedral, obviously it's only an option but it's where he's remembered weddings traditionally taking place at since he was a kid, he's always imagined it'd be him one day walking through those doors after getting married and having people throw rice at him as a newlywed

He behaves himself most of the time but as the evening turns into night his fingertips brush along your sides and you feel his breath on your nape as he whispers naughty things into your ears

Rudy

I'd like to imagine that Rudy would let you invite as many or as little people as you'd like, he wouldn't put a limit to any of it, and when you start getting stressed over wedding preparations he's able to just hold your hands in his and remind you how lucky he is to have you marry him, that anything will do and that it will all be a memory one day, so why worry and instead focus on making it a delightful one?

And after all the partying and celebrating, you're both left standing there alone in the venue, he takes your hand gently, his eyes gazing softly into yours as you dance to a song that he saved for only the two of you to dance to alone, I can imagine it being a song you listened to on the first date as he drove you home and now it's playing on your wedding day

You've probably held hands all day, from the moment you joined hands when at the altar, to walking down the aisle, to entering the dance floor for the first dance, and while you're both off to the side just sipping your drinks and still holding hands

But he wants to take a moment after all the guests have left to bask in this moment and soak in the feeling, asking you if everything turned out to your liking, just imagine laying in his arms as he holds you and you're both stargazing; a serene end to your night

Phillip Graves

The biggest, fattest wedding you can think of, everyone and their mothers are there, or in this case his Shadows and possibly anyone who's had at least one interaction with him, he's practically announcing it to the entire world

And I may be stereotypical when I say this but it's a barn wedding, the amount of times I've seen southern people go for barn weddings is insane I can't- my old riding place hosted those

It's beautiful nonetheless, he doesn't care who ends up going or not but all his Shadows are more than enthusiastic to celebrate with their boss, they've been teasing him nonstop since they found out he was dating you and now they won't stop especially since you're getting married

Tons of gifts and presents that you receive you swear you probably won't ever have to buy anything ever again, this is THE wedding that no wedding you've attended before or you'll attend in the future will ever compare to, it's that picture perfect that the venue owners ask to use the pictures on their website for advertisement

Makarov

I really feel like he'd be more the type to have it be a private wedding, that doesn't mean it isn't luxurious if anything he doesn't have a budget at all when trying to make you happy, he just leaves all the choices up to you, as long as you don't get stressed, the actual wedding planning is left to a wedding planner he hires you just have to sit there, look pretty and choose what ribbons you think would go best with the theme

As the wedding date approaches he gets more serious, and you worry he'd rethinking this whole thing or maybe he's stressed? On the day of turns out he had planned surprise after surprise for you, even though you thought you had been the one to choose most of the wedding theme and decoration turns out he himself had gone out and done a few things as well

He'd have hired a live band to play the music of your choice as you walk down the aisle, you're mesmerized by how it turned out, the adornments make the place look beautiful, but while you're admiring all this you don't notice him looking at you, you're the most extraordinary person he's met and he'll get to spend the rest of his life with you

Keegan

You guys eloped, originally the plan had been for a small, private wedding, you already had the list of people you would invite, but halfway through planning it you both stopped, looked at each other and just threw the plan away, you married with an officiant and two witnesses who happened to walk by

Even if people told you that you would later regret not having planned and waited for a big wedding you're the happiest you've ever been in this moment, the excitement rushing through not only yours but his veins that make every small detail seem perfect in this moment

People are probably wondering if you're both insane as you run together hand in hand down the streets, laughing and just happy that you're being carefree in this moment, just two souls in the expanse of this universe who have formed a deep connection in one another, what's not to be joyful about?

The future may be uncertain but it doesn't matter to neither of you, you've both had your difficult times but you deserve your happy epilogue

König

He's not one for big weddings, he cares more about the quality of it, which means he's very picky at the people who'll attend, he knows that at these events people tend to try and have their way when it's not even theirs, he simply doesn't want to deal with any unpleasant surprises when people he doesn't even know show up

When you appear he thinks there is no heaven greater than the one he is experiencing now, he thinks about all the chances there were before and now fortunate he is to meet you in your time and find each other when the world is so vast and time is fleeting

The vows he says in front of everyone are different from the ones he says only for you to hear in private that night, that's when he truly gets to be honest and say what he couldn't in front of all those people

There are many lovers in the world but none like you

Horangi

He's super passive about everything, you're sort of annoyed that he can never be bothered to worry about anything as much you do, colors for the wedding theme? He just shrugs and says a horrid color combination that could never work, it took him a three minutes max to choose what he would wear, BUT THEN on the day of when you're both in your separate rooms getting ready he's trying to get himself together because he's so overwhelmed by all the emotions he's experiencing right now

I think overall the wedding wouldn't be neither too big nor small, just the right amount of people from his side that are family members who have supported or come around to support him on this occasion and members he's close to

He's able to pull himself together though and try not to let his emotions get the best of him, he gets quite into the dancing along with you he swears he's never before felt as alive in the moment, he's grateful he was able to get his life together for you

Nikto

He wouldn't say anything about how he wants the wedding to be, whether it's big or small that's up to you, he doesn't care who you invite either, just as long as his favorite foods are served and he gets to enjoy good music for a little while before heading home with you is all that matters, oh and drinks, don't forget the alcohol

At some point throughout the night he sits back and watches as you dance with a friend of family member of yours and he thinks how funny it is that he ended up marrying you, when he first met you he couldn't have imagined that a single interaction with you could have let to this lifechanging moment

He can sleep calmly with you by his side, in his arms, safe and with no one to harm you if he's there, he may not admit it but this marriage only means he'll be like velcro to your side, that line he had always dreamed of securing? It'd be hard to get away from him

As long as this world continues he'll gladly be stuck with you, you've accepted him not matter how broken and scarred he is and he'll spend the rest of his life demonstrating with acts how much you mean to him, after all, it is the little things and acts in life that have made it truly worth living

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servndipityz · 2 days ago

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namgyu with alternative reader? perchance.. smut🫶🫶😁

a/n ── i'm so nervous about this one! i hope i didn't do a terrible job on portraying alt culture (i know nothing about it). i kinda tried to make it not super specific so anyone can feel identified. again, sorry if it's lowkey bad. it's also my first time writing smut, believe it or not, but i've had years of experience reading it so i don't think it's that bad. enjoy :)

STRIPPED

warnings ── smut, +18 MDNI!!! porn w plot. drug usage, sex under the influence, sex in a club, fingering, orgasm denial, degradation, light choking, kinda brat taming? p in v, unprotected sex, creampie.

word count ── 4.6k

he'd ended up there. of course, he'd ended up there. only someone as unlucky as him could wind up at some fucking goth party. or punk. or… whatever. he didn't really care about the whole thing—the dramatic makeup, the dyed hair, the incredibly loud music blaring through the club. none of it.

nam-gyu had envisioned a chill night on his free day, but no. of course, his co-worker had to get sick. of course, nam-gyu owed him money for the pills he'd given him last week. of course, he had to cover for him that night.

and, of course, it was alternative night at club pentagon. usually, his co-worker handled these kinds of nights—special events, themed parties, all that.

what did nam-gyu know about alternative culture anyway? he wondered the same thing as he weaved through the crowd, making sure everyone was having a good time, keeping an eye on bar sales.

so far, he'd been stepped on twice—not too bad, except when it came from one of those platform boots everyone seemed to be wearing. those hurt like hell. but at least the night was going smoothly. for now.

so good, in fact, that nam-gyu figured it was time for a drink. he'd been working for hours, making sure this party ran smoothly. he owed that co-worker a lot of drug money, and this was the only way to settle it. it’s not like he’d ever do this out of the kindness of his heart.

he made his way to the nearest counter, resting his elbows on the cool marble as he waited for someone to take his order. he couldn't help but wonder how anyone could actually dance to this loud-ass english music that sounded more like screaming. he'd take the regular techno dj any day.

meanwhile, you finished pouring a vodka red bull and handed it off to yet another customer. that's when you noticed him.

he stood out—not in a good way.

hunched over the counter, inspecting it like he might find some cocaine stuck in it (which, honestly, he probably would if he looked hard enough), looking like a wet rat. his clothes gave him away. who even let him in like that? plain black shirt, black jeans, a couple of rings.

he looked up as you approached.

his first thought was that your leather top made your tits poke out. his second was that, without all that emo makeup, you'd actually be pretty cute.

his third was what the highest-alcohol-content drink he could order was.

he opened his mouth to ask, eyes flicking to the bottles behind you—

but you spoke first.

"you're ruining the vibe, man."

he frowned, caught off guard.

you just raised an eyebrow, speaking over the loud music. "i said, you're ruining the vibe."

"i'm not doing anything," he scoffed, annoyed. he just wanted to order his damn drink. last thing he needed was some lecture.

"exactly," you said. "you don't belong here. what are you even doing?"

not like you actually cared. you were here to do your job, bartend, make money, go home. but this guy—standing there, stiff shoulders, sharp jawline, judging everything and everyone, probably without even realizing it—looking at you like that, eyes dragging over you like you were some kind of curiosity—

yeah. he rubbed you the wrong way.

being alternative, you already got judged enough. the last thing you needed was someone doing it at an alternative party.

he frowned even further. "i'm here to work. not that it's any of your business."

that caught you off guard for a second. "you work here?" your head tilted, curiosity slipping into your tone. you leaned over the counter, the neckline of your top shifting just a little lower. who knew—if this guy was someone important, you had to use all your charms. especially after being so rude. "i've never seen you around, and i always bartender at these kinds of parties."

his gaze flickered down your cleavage before snapping back to your eyes. but you saw it. the way his jaw clenched, the way he suddenly looked more annoyed than before—like he was mad at himself for looking.

"i'm not thrilled either," he mumbled, clearly uninterested in conversation. "just covering for a friend. now, could you actually do your job and get me something to drink?"

you bristled at his tone, raising a brow as you turned to the shelves of bottles. "jeez, someone's grumpy. what can i get you?"

in reality, nam-gyu wasn't grumpy. well, he was, but that was just how he was. it was just... for some reason, you made him nervous. the girls he usually dealt with at clubs were boring bitches trying to get a VIP card or whatever drugs he had in his pocket.

you were the opposite. rude. annoying. and he didn’t like that. but for some reason, it made his blood rush somewhere else, clouding his brain.

"just give me a shot," he said after a pause. "something strong."

you turned your head slightly, a smile playing on your lips—the kind that sent a shiver down his spine. you walked back to the counter, reaching for a bottle hidden underneath.

"drinking on the job?" you asked while pouring the liquid into a shot glass, then casually grabbing a second one.

nam-gyu let out a short, amused huff. if drinking was the worst thing he’d done on the job, he’d be in a much better place. but he watched curiously as you poured the second shot, his eyes flicking up through his lashes, brow slightly raised.

"what?" you asked playfully. "if you’re doing it, so can i."

you finally set the bottle back and raised your glass. he mirrored you, his eyes never leaving yours. there was something in his expression—almost a smile. you entertained him.

"cheers," you said, clinking your glass against his before downing the shot in one go. he followed suit, setting the glass back on the counter, suppressing a grimace at the sharp burn of alcohol.

“so,” you said, clearing your throat slightly after the shot. “who’s the friend you’re covering for?”

nam-gyu said the name, and your eyes widened.

“that junkie, huh?” you smirked. he chuckled. “yeah, i know him. he’s a little more talkative than you, though.”

nam-gyu narrowed his eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing. it’s okay to be shy.” your voice was innocent, teasing, calculated. you'd decided that you'd had enough, that you might as well have some fun. “anyway, my shift’s almost over. wanna get out of here?”

“i’m not shy.” he sounded offended, then glanced away, considering your offer. “and i told you, i’m working.”

you huffed. “fine. just needed someone to smoke this with." you reached into your back pocket and pulled out a tiny zip-lock bag filled with greens. "guess i'll have to find somebody else."

now that caught his attention. maybe almost as much as your exposed skin did. suddenly, he was interested. but also suspicious.

“what do you have?” he asked, leaning slightly over the counter, his voice lower, more serious.

“your junkie friend gave it to me for a gig i did. said it’s good shit.” you shrugged, playing it cool, acting uninterested—like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. and he took the bait.

“why would you wanna share it with me?” he still sounded wary, but there was something else in his tone now. curiosity. maybe even something close to interest.

you groaned dramatically. “look, i’m heading to the staff room. you coming or not?” you said, already turning away, signaling to your co-worker that your shift was over.

now, nam-gyu didn’t need weed. not exactly. he could probably find ten of those zip-lock bags hidden in his place, forgotten in favor of other, harder drugs. but he also wasn’t the kind of guy to say no to free drugs.

especially not from such a petty girl.

you grinned to yourself as you felt him rush to walk behind you, trailing after you through the club like he didn’t know the way like the back of his hand.

as you reached the hallway leading to the staff room, nam-gyu couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on your half-ripped fishnets, the way they framed your legs under that short black skirt. was he here for the weed or for you? he wasn’t really sure, and he didn’t care much.

you finally reached the door, slipping past a few couples too caught up in each other to notice, and he shut it behind him. the staff room was small, dingy, and reeked of bleach and cigarette smoke, but you still sank onto the worn-out sofa next to the table like it was the most comfortable place in the world.

you leaned back, stretching your legs out just enough for your skirt to ride up slightly. not too much—just enough to make him notice. and he did.

nam-gyu stood near the door for a second, like he was reconsidering this, before scoffing to himself and dropping onto the couch beside you. he was close, not touching, but enough that the warmth of him was noticeable. enough that when he exhaled, you could feel the faintest brush of his breath against your shoulder.

"roll it," he said, nodding at the bag in your hand.

you raised an eyebrow. "you're really bad at asking nicely, huh?"

he just looked at you, serious. "you’re really bad at shutting up."

that made you laugh. he was watching you now—really watching you—as you pulled out the papers, fingers working effortlessly, licking the edge just to see his reaction. you weren’t disappointed. his jaw flexed again, his eyes dark, tracking your every move like he was trying to pretend he didn’t care. like he wasn’t already leaning back, manspreading, trying to act like he had the upper hand here.

cute.

you tucked the blunt between your lips, lighting it, taking a slow drag before passing it to him.

nam-gyu hesitated, just for a split second, then took it, bringing it to his mouth. his fingers brushed yours in the handoff, and it was stupid how that tiny touch sent something sharp down your spine. or maybe it was just the way he inhaled, head tilting back, exposing the sharp line of his throat as he exhaled, smoke curling lazily from his lips.

you licked yours.

the weed hit, slow and warm. the music outside was muffled, the sounds of the party fading into the background, leaving only this—dim lighting, the scent of smoke and alcohol and something else, something charged.

"you always do this?" nam-gyu asked after a beat, voice lower, lazier. "lure random guys into the staff room for a smoke?"

you smirked, tilting your head. "only the rude ones."

he huffed, shaking his head, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch like he was trying not to smile. he passed the blunt back, his fingers lingering just a second longer this time. you let them.

the room felt smaller. warmer.

"you always this uptight?" you asked, taking another slow hit. "or just with me?"

nam-gyu let his head roll against the back of the couch, watching you through heavy-lidded eyes. "you always this annoying? or just with me?"

you exhaled smoke, letting it curl between you. "you like it."

he didn’t answer. but he also didn’t look away.

you were both leaning back now, legs almost brushing, breaths slow and measured like you were both pretending not to notice the heat building between you.

nam-gyu wet his lips, head still resting against the couch, eyes flicking to your mouth before he caught himself and looked away. like it was a habit. like he was trying so fucking hard not to slip.

you took one last hit before stubbing out the blunt in the ashtray beside you. then, shifting slightly, you turned toward him, letting your knee press against his thigh. deliberate. slow. testing.

"you're staring," you murmured.

he scoffed, but it came out weaker than he probably meant. his hands clenched into fists on his thighs like he was keeping himself still on purpose.

"you’re high," he muttered, looking away.

"so are you." you tilted your head, voice dropping, playing with the edge of your ripped fishnets like you weren’t watching the way his gaze followed the movement of your fingers. "and what, does that mean i can’t see the way you’ve been looking at me all night?"

nam-gyu exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "i haven’t been—"

"you have," you cut in smoothly, shifting closer, feeling the warmth of his body now, solid and tense. "you’re mad about it. i can tell."

his jaw clenched.

"tell me," you purred. "are you mad because you don’t like it? or mad because you do?"

his fingers twitched on his thigh. his breathing was heavier, controlled, like he was still fighting it. fighting you.

so you leaned in, lips just close enough to ghost over his ear. "it’s okay," you whispered. "you can touch me."

and that was it.

nam-gyu moved so fast you barely had time to smirk before he grabbed you by the back of the neck, his lips crashing into yours, hot and desperate, all teeth and pent-up frustration. his other hand found your waist, yanking you onto his lap, and fuck—he wasn’t holding back anymore.

he was done fighting it.

and so were you.

his lips were all heat, all pressure—nothing hesitant, nothing soft. you barely had a second to adjust before his teeth caught your bottom lip, his fingers gripping the nape of your neck like he wanted to own you. his other hand, firm on your waist, yanked you flush against him, and fuck—he was hard.

not that he acknowledged it. not that he’d ever admit that you’d done this to him.

your knees bracketed his hips as you settled onto his lap, rolling your hips down just enough to feel him. his grip tightened, nails digging into the meat of your waist. he hissed against your mouth—half warning, half surrender.

“you don’t play fair,” he muttered, lips grazing your jaw now, teeth scraping skin, testing.

your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt. “neither do you.”

his hands dropped—one to your thigh, sliding under your skirt, fisting in the torn mesh of your fishnets. the other traced the curve of your ass before shoving you down against him again, this time deliberate, a slow grind that made both of you exhale sharp.

his breath was uneven, warm against your throat. “you think i haven’t noticed?” his fingers curled, gripping tight enough to bruise. “the way you’ve been—” a sharp pull at the fishnets, a rip, cool air hitting skin—“fucking teasing me?”

you laughed, half-gasping when his tongue flicked against the pulse at your neck.

his fingers dipped, pressing against the damp heat of your panties, no patience, no hesitation. his other hand was now tangled in your hair, keeping you locked right where he wanted—breath hitching as he rubbed slow, teasing.

then his hand moved, fingers slipping beneath the fabric, warm against your skin, sliding between your thighs. the first touch was barely there, just a single fingertip running along your slit, slow, teasing.

you squirmed, but he didn’t let you go. “look at you,” he murmured, mocking, the pad of his finger dragging over your cunt, pressing just enough to make you shudder. “all that attitude, but you’re already—” he exhaled sharply, felt it before he even had to say it—so fucking wet.

"fuck," he muttered, more to himself than to you, his forehead resting against yours for a second like he was trying to collect himself. but his fingers were still moving, sliding along the slickness of you, testing, exploring, spreading it just enough to make you squirm.

"yeah?" you murmured, voice breathy, teasing. "you like that?"

his only response was a low, quiet curse under his breath before he pressed his fingers in deeper, the tips just barely pushing inside before pulling back, slow and torturous. he was watching you now, eyes dark and half-lidded.

and then, without warning, he slid one finger in, slow but firm, curling just enough to make your breath catch. your nails dug into his shoulders, and his other hand tightened on your hip, holding you steady.

"fuck," you whispered, rolling your hips into his touch, chasing it, needing more.

nam-gyu chuckled, low and smug, and then he added a second finger, stretching you just a little more, fucking you slow and deep with just his hand. the angle was perfect, his fingers pressing against that spot inside you that made your toes curl, made your breath come faster, needier.

"you’re so fucking tight," he murmured, more fascinated than anything, watching the way his fingers disappeared inside you, the way you clenched around them. he twisted his wrist slightly, his palm pressing against your clit as he fucked you with his fingers, setting a rhythm that had you grinding against him, chasing that pressure.

your moan was quiet but desperate, and he smirked, eyes flicking up to yours.

"you always this easy?" he murmured, his voice taunting, dark.

you opened your mouth to snap something back, but then he crooked his fingers just right, pressing deeper, and your words dissolved into a gasp, your head tipping back. his lips were on your throat a second later, sucking, biting, leaving marks you’d have to cover up later.

his pace picked up, fucking you harder with just his fingers, each drag of his palm against your clit sending another sharp wave of heat curling low in your stomach. the room was quiet except for the sound of your breathy moans, his heavier breathing, the slick sounds of his fingers working you open.

"you gonna come?" he murmured against your skin, his voice rough now, strained.

you swallowed hard, your fingers tightening in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. "fuck—don’t stop," you breathed.

nam-gyu felt it—felt the way your body tensed, the way your thighs shook against his hips, the way you were right there, so fucking close. he could see it too, in the way your mouth parted, in the soft, breathy little gasps escaping your lips, the ones you were trying to swallow back like you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

but he wasn’t that generous.

just when you thought he’d let you tip over, when your body clenched down around his fingers so tight he could barely move them, he pulled away.

just—gone.

the sudden loss was so sharp, so fucking unfair, that you let out a frustrated, needy little whine before you could stop yourself, your hips rolling forward, chasing after the feeling, after his hand, anything. but nam-gyu just sat back, bringing his wet fingers up to his lips, slipping them into his mouth with a slow, deliberate hum.

"mm," he mused, tongue flicking over them, eyes locked on yours. "not bad."

"are you fucking kidding me?" you were panting, legs still shaking where you straddled him, your body on fire, needing more, needing anything. your eyes flashed, your hands curling into fists against his chest like you were two seconds away from either punching him or ripping his shirt off.

he just smirked. "what?"

"you—" you gritted your teeth, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. "you’re such a fucking asshole."

nam-gyu chuckled, low and lazy, his hands dragging up your thighs again, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just to remind you he still had you exactly where he wanted you. "maybe, but you're still here," he murmured. "still dripping for me."

"yeah, because you didn’t let me cum, you dick," you snapped, rocking forward again, grinding against him, feeling the hard, thick press of him through his pants. he was just as worked up as you were, and you could tell—he was trying to play it cool, but his breathing was heavier, his fingers twitching against your skin like he was barely holding himself back.

that made you smirk. "ohhh," you taunted, rolling your hips again, slower this time, watching his jaw clench. "that’s why, huh? you’re hard as fuck and don’t wanna finish before i do."

his eyes darkened, his grip tightening on your hips. "watch your fucking mouth."

"or what?" you leaned in, brushing your lips against his ear, letting your breath tickle his skin. "you gonna do something about it?"

that was it.

one second you were teasing him, playing your little game, and the next you were flat on your back, your spine pressing into the shitty, worn-out couch, his body caging you in. his hand was already shoving your skirt up, fingers hooking into your panties and dragging them down your thighs, not even bothering to be careful.

"you talk too much," he muttered, voice rough, breath hot against your jaw.

"and you do too little," you shot back, just to push him, just to make him snap again.

it worked.

his hand was on your throat, not squeezing, just there, just pressing, just reminding you that he could if he wanted to. his other hand yanked at his belt, the metal buckle clinking as he undid his pants, as he shoved them down just enough to free himself.

fuck.

you’d felt it before, pressing against you, teasing, but now you saw it. thick, flushed, leaking at the tip, the kind of length that made your thighs press together instinctively, made you bite your lip even as you refused to let him see you flustered.

nam-gyu saw it anyway.

"knew you wanted it," he muttered, running the head of his cock along your slit, dragging it slow through your wetness. "acting like a brat, but your pussy’s already begging."

"shut the fuck up and—"

he pushed in, just an inch, just enough to make you gasp, make your nails dig into his arms.

"yeah?" he exhaled sharply, his jaw tight, like he was already holding himself back. "that what you wanted?"

you barely had time to adjust before he thrust forward again, burying himself deep, stretching you in one slow stroke that left your back arching, your head tipping back against the couch.

"fuck—"

nam-gyu groaned, low and almost desperate, his forehead pressing against yours as he bottomed out, as he let you feel every fucking inch of him.

"you feel that?" he murmured, breath ragged, his hips rolling just a little, just enough to make you whimper. "how tight you are? how you’re fucking squeezing me?"

you couldn’t answer. you couldn’t think. all you could do was feel—the way he filled you, the way he stretched you, the way he stayed there for a second, teasing, waiting, making you want it more.

you swallowed, trying to catch your breath. "you gonna move, or you just like teasing your own dick?"

his laugh was low. then he pulled back and slammed into you, knocking the breath from your lungs.

"fuck—"

your back was pressed against the couch, legs spread wide, thighs trembling as he held you open. his body caged yours beneath him, one hand pinning your wrists above your head, the other gripping your hip, keeping you still as he drove into you with rough, unforgiving thrusts. his cock filled you completely—thick, hot, deep—dragging against every sensitive spot inside you, making you gasp with each desperate slap of his hips against yours.

"you gonna be good now?" his voice was low, ragged, dark with amusement. his grip tightened, fingers digging bruises into your skin. "or you still wanna run your mouth?"

you tried. you really did. you opened your lips to snap something back—something mean, something cutting, something to remind him you weren’t easy to break.

but all that came out was a choked moan as he grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his.

"that’s what i thought," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot, his mouth just barely brushing yours, teasing. "bratty little thing—talking shit. but look at you now."

his hand wrapped around your throat, fingers pressing just enough to keep you in place. not squeezing. just controlling. just owning. his other hand slipped between your bodies, two fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles over the swollen bud.

"fuck," you gasped, your hips rolling up instinctively, chasing that pressure, that friction.

nam-gyu chuckled, low and smug. "yeah? you like that?"

you wanted to tell him to fuck off. you really did.

but then he twisted his fingers just right, his cock hitting that spot inside you at the same time, and your body jerked, your moan breaking into something desperate.

"that’s it," he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw, his pace still brutal, relentless. "don’t fight it. you wanna cum, don’t you?"

"yes—yeah," you panted, nails scraping against his wrist where he held your throat.

he pulled back suddenly, dragging his cock out until only the tip remained, making you whimper at the loss. his fingers abandoned your clit, and before you could protest, he did something worse—something filthier.

he spat.

the wet warmth of it landed directly on your pussy, slick and obscene. your whole body jolted.

"fuck—" your breath stuttered, your back arching as heat shot through you.

nam-gyu groaned at the sight, at the way you clenched, the way your body reacted so instantly, so helplessly.

"you like that, huh?" his voice was thick with satisfaction, his fingers dragging through the mess, smearing it over you, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles.

you shouldn’t. you really shouldn’t.

but the heat in your stomach coiled even tighter.

"say it," he ordered, his voice rough, his cock pushing back inside you, stretching you open again, slow and deep, making you feel every inch. "tell me you fucking love it."

your pride cracked. your body betrayed you.

"fuck—i love it," you gasped.

nam-gyu groaned, his breath hitching, his pace quickening. "good girl."

and then his fingers returned, rubbing messy circles over your spit-slicked clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, pushing you higher, harder—

you were already close. too close.

"fuck—fuck, i’m gonna cum," you choked out, hips jerking against his hand, against his cock, chasing it. "please—please don’t stop—"

and this time he didn’t.

he fucked you through it, his fingers never letting up, his pace relentless, driving you higher, harder, until it finally snapped—

your orgasm hit like a fucking wrecking ball.

your body clenched down on him so tight he cursed under his breath, his rhythm faltering for the first time. the pleasure crashed over you, your whole body shaking as you moaned through it, loud and wrecked, the sound swallowed by the shitty little staff room.

"fuck—fuck, yeah, that’s it," nam-gyu groaned, his grip on your hips bruising now, his thrusts rough and desperate as he chased his own release. "god, you feel so fucking good—"

he buried himself deep, his breath stuttering, his cock twitching inside you, and then he was coming, his grip tightening, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he groaned low into your skin.

for a second, all you could hear was the ragged sound of your breathing, the quiet hum of the party outside, the distant bass thudding through the walls.

nam-gyu exhaled, slow and shaky, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your waist, still holding you, still pressed against you.

then he pulled out, groaning at the sight of his cum spilling out of you, dripping between your thighs.

he smirked, dragging a lazy finger through it before pressing it against your lips.

"open," he murmured.

you did.

and fuck, the look in his eyes when you sucked it clean—

you were so fucked.

#nam gyu #player 124 #squid game smut #namgyu x reader #namgyu smut #player 124 x reader #player 124 smut #my inbox #MDNI

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mel-loly · 3 days ago

Text

–I am back!!!✨

ANDDD since the majority voted “yes” in the last poll I did, I’m going to do a dtiys! Which will be this one:

Oh, and the rules and explanation of tdiys are in the text below (click for 'more' ↓)! Good luck to the participants, I love you all so much!!❤️

Explanation:

DTIYS stands for “Draw This In Your Style”. It's a popular art challenge where artists redraw a piece of art in their own style. DTIYS challenges are often used by artists on Instagram to celebrate milestones or to support other artists [which, in this case, I am celebrating my “return”].

How it works:

An artist chooses a piece of art to redraw.

The artist sets instructions for the challenge, such as the medium to use or the overall aesthetic.

Other artists create their own version of the piece and post it with the specified hashtag.

The artist selects the winners and announces them.

Now that you guys know a little about how it works, I will tell you some simple and “already expected” rules:

You can't steal or do it the same way as me, you have to do it YOUR style (because that's the challenge).

The redraw must have the same characteristics as the original drawing. For example, the colors must be similar or the same.

You can add and change things, but don’t “stray” too far from the original design and features.

Don't forget to tag me AND use the hashtag '#melloly dtiys'! Or if you don't want to post, just send me a private chat or ask! (and if you don't want me to say your name if you "win", please let me know and I'll make the drawing's artist anonymous!)

About the winners and the end date of the competition:

The competition will end on 03/23/25. There will be 3 winners, however, I will only draw (their own) OCs!

An art of your OC in my normal and detailed style (example (↓).

An art of your OC in my normal but simple style (example (↓).

A art of your OC in my chibi style (example (↓).

Thank you very much for reading and, again, good luck to the participants!!! (and if you still have any questions, just call dm and ask!!)💛

-Melissa, Designer.

#AAAAAA I'M BACK-#after ONE MONTH without posting. I'm back!!#I know. I know. It took me a while but.. I was taking a break from the blog...#It's hard to make and post drawings every day and still not earn a penny for it. yk?#so.. yeah... I had to do it..#BUT...... at least now I can entertain you with dtiys! which I hope at least someone does and it's not like last time....#and yeah-#I will have new things on the blog. AND the first chapter of mel and prim's lore will be released THIS WEEK!!!#so- I hope you guys like the new things that are going to come and much more the lore I'm doing.#that I'm really putting a lot of effort into making the chapters and... anyway..#have a wonderful day and good luck to the participants!!!💖#i'm mel and this is my blog✌️#my art blog #art #my art #art mel #my art style #primloly #mel loly d.w #primrose goldenflower #oc stuff #my oc character #melloly dtiys #(←that's the tag everyone!!!#dtiyschallenge #dtiysart #dtiys challenge #i'm back!!!

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aventurineswife · 2 days ago

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HII AUTHOR! ARE YOU HAVING A GOOD DAY? I HAVE A QUESTION. How would the SAHSRAU react if you suddenly got bored with HSR and switched to genshin?

Oh boy... The jealousy and the angst are sure burning up...

At first, they don’t notice.

Everything is normal. The Museum of Divinity still stands. Your artworks are still there. Your music still echoes through the stars.

But then… something changes.

The paintings stop appearing. The music stops playing. The museum doors remain shut.

The characters wait for your next command. It never comes.

The Galaxy is silent.

And that’s when they realize.

“There must be an explanation.”

Welt starts running calculations, probability theories, even dimensional travel theories—anything to explain your sudden disappearance.

Himeko sips her coffee, trying to stay calm, but her hands are shaking. “They’ll be back. They always come back.”

(You in fact did not come back.)

March 7th: "Uh, guys? You might wanna look at this..."

She holds up a blurry, pixelated screenshot she managed to capture—a screenshot of Teyvat.

Himeko’s mug shatters. (Like her heart ahem)

Blade stops moving entirely. His entire reason for existing has just left him behind.

Stares blankly at the sky, gripping his sword. If you are no longer here, then what purpose does he have?

Dan Heng acts calm, but he's already in crisis mode. He's scrolling through files, trying to find any clue as to why you left.

When he sees the Teyvat screenshot, his grip tightens on his spear.

Dan Heng: “…We’ve been abandoned.” (yeah no shit, Sherlock-)

Aventurine immediately plays it cool. "Well, well, well. Looks like our dear Creator has found another plaything."

Sunday is not calm.

"BETRAYAL! TREACHERY! ABANDONMENT! I HAVE BEEN CAST ASIDE!"

He dramatically collapses on the museum floor. Aventurine just watches with amusement.

But the second he sees the Teyvat screenshot—

Aventurine: “…Oh, you’ve got to be joking.”

They both hate the idea of you playing another game more than they hate each other.

Kafka smirks, but there’s a sharp edge to it. "So, you’ve moved on, huh?"

Black Swan looks at the fading murals of your art, her expression unreadable. “All things fade… but I never expected our Creator’s gaze to turn elsewhere.”

Deep down, they wonder—were they not enough?

Luocha: "I suppose even gods grow tired of their creations."

Jing Yuan: "Hah… It seems we have been cast aside for another world."

They act philosophical about it, but they’re both lowkey miserable.

Jing Yuan tries to joke about it, but even Yanqing notices something’s off.

Luocha stares at a fading portrait of you, quietly wondering if he will ever see your light again. (Probably not but ahem)

March 7th is the first to start coping.

"It’s fine, it’s fine! Maybe they’re just… on a vacation! Yeah! They’ll be back! Right?"

Sparkle is already scheming. "If our dear Painter has found another world… then perhaps it’s time we follow them there."

(They are actively looking for ways to break into Teyvat.)

Sighs, so the list goes on...

Blade stops fighting entirely. (What's the point if you're not watching?)

Dan Heng avoids everyone. (He refuses to believe it.)

Kafka and Black Swan start theorizing. (Will you return, or is this the end?)

Sunday begins plotting. (If they cannot bring you back, they will find a way to make you remember them.)

March 7th, Sparkle, and Aventurine?

They're looking for a way to invade Genshin. (Yeah, with Silver Wolf's help)

Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months.

They wait.

And wait.

And then—

One day—

A new painting appears.

It's… different.

A familiar signature, but a different style.

A mural of Teyvat.

And on that day, the last hope shatters.

You are gone.

Their Creator has truly moved on.

But that doesn’t mean they’ll stop searching for you. Not ever.

My back hurts... I'm taking away your guys' SAHSRAU privilege. I need someone to write this as a fic or expand it and I'm not gonna write it, that's for you. 🫶

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bitchface24-7 · 2 days ago

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Salutations! I’m new to tumblr and I don’t know how this generally works, but the reason I even started to be here more was after Arcane’s ending

I downloaded the app moment I started reading your writing and other JAYVIK fanfic writers!! I admire your work and believe you have a lovely writing! I enjoy reading your works every time!

I’m embarrassed but I wanted to request a Jayvik x Reader with celebrating the reader’s birthday in some way, doesn’t matter how if it’s hurt to comfort or nsfw or anything (my birthday is today that’s why I ask, it’s bittersweet currently due to comments I’ve received n such) it’s all up to you! I’d be happy if you’d even read this! Thank you so much for your time and have a wonderful day!

YOUR SPECIAL DAY - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: it's your birthday today! Your boys spoil you to the best of their abilities, breakfast in bed, lounging all day, they even baked you a cake the previous night while you slept! The cake is plain, but it's the tastiest cake you've ever had.

warnings: fluffier than a cloud, pre-established relationships, spoiling, physical affection, a birthday everyone deserves, Grammarly as my beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. Awe I'm sorry your birthday today is bittersweet due to some people who are buttheads. Happy Birthday!! Ignore them! I hope this fluffy little fic brings you some joy on your special day, and to anyone else who needs a pick me up on their special days too! Xoxo love ya (thanks for the compliments also) ❤️

The sounds of pots and pans clanging together wake you up. You grumble, rubbing your face and running a hand over your head, moving your hair out of your face. You look over to the side and catch your alarm clock, it’s 12:00pm.

You’ve slept in, like, by a lot.

You damn near bolt out of bed until Jayce and Viktor casually stroll into the bedroom, your favourite breakfast on a tray for you to eat in bed.

“What’s all this?” You ask, your voice rough due to sleep; but there’s a light smile on your face. Viktor and Jayce look to one another before bursting out into laughter. You pout at them.

“It’s your birthday today. Did you honestly forget?”

You pause for a second. Your schedule has been so hectic lately, that you felt like you could barely breathe. Your eyes shift to the side as you innocently state, “No?” in a questioning tone, dragging out the vowel as your voice raises in pitch.

Jayce chuckles and places the tray over your lap, the small legs keeping it upright. He kisses your cheek and Viktor puts your favourite drink onto the tray. He kisses your forehead.

Damn. This is a pretty good way to wake up.

“Relax. Eat. Today is a day of lounging. Watching movies, going out to do some activities. Don't even attempt to think about work, that'll make me quite displeased.” Viktor states, his accent rolling across the words smoothly and elegantly. You quirk an eyebrow at him, “As if you're not constantly thinking about work, you hypocrite.”

“Touche.”

And with that, you eat your breakfast and your two boys keep you entertained.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Your birthday couldn't have gone any better. You did all your favourite activities, ate all your favourite food, and spent the day with your two favourite people.

It’s late into the evening by the time you all get home, a few movies are on your mind for you all to watch before heading to bed.

That is until you enter your home and see your boys rush to the kitchen. You just huff a laugh and take your shoes off, putting some slippers on you follow them to their mad dash of an escape.

What you see melts your heart.

It’s a cake. It's simple, with no wording or fancy icing techniques. It's clearly homemade and has a variety of different coloured candles.

It’s perfect.

Jayce and Viktor look sheepish, almost a little embarrassed. You shut that down real quick.

“You guys made me a cake? When?” You ask, your tone one of awe and appreciation. Jayce's shoulders slowly lower and Viktor lightly smiles. He hits Jayce's arm lightly and Jayce grunts in pain.

“I told you they'd like it!”

“Okay okay, you're right! I thought they'd like a nicer cake, that's all.”

“The sentiment means more than a pretty cake.”

You giggle as they bicker, and you wave your hands around a bit to catch their attention again, “Hello? First off, Viktor’s right. Second off, when did you make this? I would've seen you two baking in the kitchen.”

Viktor humphs in triumph and Jayce looks at the two of you fondly, “We made it last night while you slept.”

“You were so exhausted that you slept right through it! Believe me, we made quite a bit of noise. Jayce then had the brilliant idea of you getting breakfast in bed so you wouldn't see the cake in the fridge.”

“Then Viktor had the great idea to take you out, so that way we’d keep the cake a surprise. We'd do activities and eat at our favourite restaurant as well.”

You feel like crying. They're so sweet. So thoughtful. You don't know how you got so lucky.

You rub your nose discreetly as they light the candles, and start to sing happy birthday. Usually you find this part really awkward. You're just kind of there as people sing to you.

But right now, your heart is so full of love you don't even notice. When they're done, you can't help but beam a grin at them and lightly bend over to get closer to the cake. You close your eyes, make your wish, and blow out the candles.

When you open your eyes, all the candles are smoking. You got them all in one shot.

Viktor smiles and takes the candles out as Jayce prepares to cut the cake. You get the first slice, you wait a moment so your boys have their slice as well before taking a big cut with your fork and putting it in your mouth.

It's the most delicious cake you've ever had.

Honestly, what did you do to deserve them? You rant and rave over their cake as they blush and smile and your compliments, casually strolling to the couch where you three debate what movie to watch.

This day couldn't have gone any better.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Hope you all have had a good day, and that this little fluffy fic makes every ones birthday just a bit sweeter.

#arcane #viktor arcane #jayce talis #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #jayvik x reader #jayce x viktor x reader #fem!reader #male!reader #gender neutral reader #banners by cafekitsune

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earthchica · 5 hours ago

Text

my lady, my love

aaron pierre x black, fem! reader {actress}

summary: On your press tour in New York, you eagerly anticipate reuniting with Aaron in London. Despite your friendly connection with your co-star during interviews, your playful banter raises Aaron's jealousy when he sees a recent interview.

warnings: explicit smut 18+, jealousy, makeup sex, unprotected, light daddy kink, breeding kink, long-distance, dirty talking, boyfriend/girlfriend, actor/actress, not real life, original characters, use of Y/N, words: 6k

Note: hiii, back to writing. Part 4 is here, I hope you enjoy it.

chapter one - chapter two - chapter three

As you reached the halfway point of the press tour, you began counting down the days. You and Aaron have kept in touch, texting and FaceTiming whenever possible.

You miss him so much, and this is your first experience with a long-distance relationship. Aaron is still in London while you finish your last few interviews and photo shoots in New York.

However, once you're done in NYC, you're going to London, and you'll finally get to see him. The thought fills you with excitement. You could hear your co-star Noah across the hall as you sat in the little dressing room.

The next few interviews started out chill, with you and Noah sitting side by side, with smiles on your faces. The next interviewer leaned in, clearly trying to stir the pot.

“So, tell me about the chemistry between you two! It’s palpable on screen,” she said, eyes gleaming excitedly. Noah looked at you with that playful grin.

“Oh, it’s undeniable. I mean, we vibe, you know? Just look at her!” Noah gestured to you dramatically, making you giggle.

“She’s like the perfect co-star, and I might even say… the perfect girl,” he added

You shot him a teasing smirk, leaning back in your chair. “Aw, thanks, Noah. But don’t get it twisted now! I’m taken, you know?” You winked.

“What? No way, who’s the lucky guy?” The interviewer replied, feigning shock. You leaned closer, lowering your voice as if it were a deep secret.

“Good girl never tells,” you giggled, delivering the line with sass. The interviewer laughed.

The rest of the interview flew by in a blur of laughter and lighthearted banter. By the time it wrapped, you felt more at ease, the earlier anxiety melting.

You and Noah exchanged a quick hug before parting ways, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for his friendship. He always knew how to make things feel lighter.

After a few solo interviews, back in your hotel room later that evening, you took a deep breath and took a shower. Afterward, you changed into some comfortable clothes and ordered room service.

Once settled down on the bed with your phone, you dialed Aaron's number, a smile spreading. However, it went to voicemail. You knew it must be around 10 PM in London, so he should still be awake.

So you tried again, but unfortunately, it didn't work. You then texted him. "Hey baby, just finished my interviews for the day. I miss you. Call me back when you can. I love you!"

As you waited for a response, you felt a pang of loneliness and began to wonder if Aaron was just too busy. You decided to go to bed and catch a quick flight to London tomorrow morning to surprise him.

Seven hours later and ten minutes later, you made it to his apartment around 2:00 PM; you texted him to see if he was home before knocking on the door.

Aaron opened the door wearing sweats and a hoodie. He was slightly happy and surprised to see you, but he looked like he had a little attitude.

“Hey,” Aaron said, his voice flat, as he stepped aside to let you in. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to read his expression.

“Hi, baby,” you replied softly, stepping inside. The apartment smelled faintly of tea and old books, just like you remembered. You set your suitcases down by the door and turned to face him.

“I missed you,” you added, your voice trembling slightly.

Aaron sighed, running a hand through his face. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he said, but there was a hint of something else in his tone—something that made your stomach twist.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep the mood light. “Are you okay, baby?” you started, hoping to ease into whatever bothered him.

“So, I saw the interview posted today.” Aaron’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Oh, you did! That’s great. Really great, right? um, which one?” You blinked, taken aback by his tone.

“Don't act like you don't know! All that flirting with Noah? Really?” Aaron said with a frown.

Your jaw dropped.

“Wait, hold up. You’re upset about that? Aaron, it was just playful banter! You know how interviews are—it’s all for the cameras. Noah was just playing around, and I clarified that I was taken!” you said, raising your eyebrow.

Aaron raised an eyebrow, his expression unmoved. “Playful banter? No, love, that was more than that. You were giggling, smiling all over his face like you had a whole thing going on. And don’t even get me started on how he looked at you.”

You stepped closer, your hands reaching out to touch his arm, but he didn’t budge.

“Aaron, come on. You know me better than that. Noah’s just a friend; that’s it, nothing more. I love you, and I want you only. I’m sorry I made you feel like that.”

Aaron took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly as he looked down at you. His eyes softened just a fraction, but the tension still hung heavy.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressing your body against him. “Let me make up to you; let me remind you exactly what you are to me," You said softly.

In a searing kiss, you crashed your lips against his, pouring all your frustration and desire into it. Aaron gasped, allowing his tongue to sweep into your mouth.

You felt his anger melted away as heat flooded his body. "I miss you so damn much, you know that," You murmured against his lips as his hands roamed your body hungrily.

A low moan escaped Aaron's lips as you deepened the kiss, caressing the back of his neck.

"I missed you too," Aaron breathed, his voice rough with emotion.

"But please don’t do that, baby. I can't stand seeing you like that with someone else."

"I know," you whispered, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. "You're the only one I want, Aaron. The only one I need."

Aaron nodded, his expression softening even more, and you pushed him towards the couch, your hands firm but gentle. He stumbled back, his eyes widening in surprise, but he didn't resist.

You got on your knees in front of him, your hands sliding up his thighs, massaging the tense muscles there. "Relax, baby," you murmured, your voice low and soothing.

"Let me take care of you."

Aaron leaned back against the couch, his breath hitching as your hands worked their magic. "Love!" he groaned, his voice thick and low with desire.

"You always know how to make me feel better."

You smirked up at him, your fingers teasing the waistband of his sweatpants.

"That's 'cause I know what you love," you purred, sliding your hands under the fabric and taking hold of him. He hissed sharply, his hips jerking involuntarily as you began to stroke him slowly, firmly.

"Aaron," you whispered, your breath hot against his skin as you leaned closer. "I love you so much, baby. You know that, right? You’re my everything."

Aaron moaned softly, his hands gripping the edge of the couch tightly. "I know," he managed to say, his voice trembling.

"I just… I can’t help it sometimes. I see you out there, shining like a damn star, and I get scared. Scared someone’s gonna take you away from me."

You paused momentarily, looking up at him with pure adoration. "Nobody is taking me away from you," you said firmly, your voice steady and full of conviction.

"You got me, Aaron. Always and Forever."

Aaron let out a shaky breath, nodding as he gently cups your face with his massive hands. "You promise?" he whispered, his voice raw with vulnerability.

"I promise," you said, your eyes locked onto his. Then, with a sly smile, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against the tip of his dick as you spoke.

"But right now, I wanna make it all melt away, baby. Just focus on me and how good I will make you feel," you added.

Aaron groaned, his head falling back against the couch as you pressed a soft kiss to the sensitive head of his dick.

"Shit," he muttered, his fingers tightening in your hair. "You always know how to drive me crazy."

You chuckled lowly, your breath hot against his skin. "That’s the plan," you purred before taking him into your mouth slowly, savoring the way he twitched and throbbed against your tongue.

You swirled your tongue around the tip, teasing him relentlessly, making him squirm beneath you.

"Fuck," Aaron hissed, his hips bucking slightly as you sucked him deeper. "You’re so damn good at this."

You pulled back slightly, letting him slip out of your mouth with a wet pop. "You like that?" you asked, looking up at him with a mischievous glint.

"Like it?" Aaron groaned, his voice rough and desperate. "Baby, I love it. You got me out here losing my mind, and you're not even done yet."

You smirked, fingers tracing the vein along his length, making him shiver. "Oh, I’m far from done," you whispered, your voice dripping with promise.

"You think I’m just gonna stop when I got you lookin’ like this? All hot and bothered, tryin’ to hold it together? Nah, big daddy. I’m about to take you to a whole ‘nother level."

Aaron’s breath hitched as you leaned back in, your tongue flat against his shaft as you licked him from base to tip. He cursed under his breath, his hands gripping the couch so tight his knuckles turned white.

"You play too much," he muttered, but there was no real complaint in his tone—just pure, unadulterated need.

"Oh, I’m dead serious," you shot back, your lips wrapping around him again as you took him deep into your throat. This time, you didn’t hold back, bobbing your head rhythmically, your hand working in tandem with your mouth to drive him wild.

The wet sounds filled the room, mingling with Aaron’s heavy breaths and the occasional curse that slipped past his lips.

You could feel him trembling beneath you, his thighs tensing as he fought to keep himself from losing control too soon. But you weren’t about to let him hold back—not afternoon.

"Tell me how it feels, big daddy," you murmured, pulling back just enough to let him feel the cool air against his slick skin. Your eyes locked onto his, dark and hungry, as you waited for his response.

Aaron’s chest heaved as he struggled to find the words. "Feels… feels like heaven," he finally managed, his voice strained and thick with desire. "Like you’re tryna suck my soul out through my dick, love."

You grinned, your tongue darting out to lick a slow, deliberate stripe along the underside of his shaft.

"Good," you purred. "That’s exactly what I’m aiming for. I want you to forget everything but me and this moment. Just focus on how good I’m making you feel."

He groaned, his head falling back again as you took him back into your mouth, this time deeper than before. Your throat relaxed around him, and you could feel the way his body jerked in response, his hips instinctively thrusting up into the warmth of your mouth.

Your hands moved to grip his thighs, holding him steady as you worked him over with a rhythm that was both relentless and intoxicating.

The sounds he made—those low, guttural moans and breathless curses—were music to your ears, driving you to push him even further.

"You always taste so amazing, Terry," you murmured, your voice muffled but still dripping with that same sultry tone. "Like you were made just for me. You feel it too, don’t you? How we fit together like this like it’s some kinda cosmic shit."

Aaron’s hands were in your hair now, tangling in the curls as he tried to keep himself grounded.

"Damn, yes, I feel it," he growled, his voice low and raw. "You got me out here feelin’ like I’m floatin’; keep goin’, baby. Don’t stop."

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Your mouth worked him over with a fervor that left him gasping, your tongue swirling around the head of his dick before plunging him back into the heat of your throat.

His grip on your hair tightened, sending a shiver down your spine as you felt the tension building in him, his body coiled like a spring ready to snap.

You pulled back again, letting him slide out of your mouth with a wet pop, and then you stood up, your eyes never leaving his. "You want this pussy? because I want your dick," you asked, your voice low and teasing as you slowly began to peel off your clothes.

Aaron’s eyes widened as he watched you, his breath hitching in his throat. "Yes, love," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "You don't gotta tell me twice."

You smirked, taking your time as you took your shirt, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. Your hands moved to the waistband of your pants, and you slid them down your legs with deliberate slowness, stepping out of them one foot at a time.

Aaron’s eyes were glued to your body, his gaze hot and heavy as he took in every inch of you. "Fuck," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You’re fuckin’ perfect. How did I get so lucky?"

You grinned, feeling satisfied at how he looked at you. "Maybe by fate," you purred, climbing onto the couch and straddling him.

His hands immediately went to your hips, gripping you tightly as you shifted forward, your pussy hovering just above his throbbing dick.

You could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his breath hitched as you teased him, letting your folds brush against the tip of his length.

"You feel that?" you whispered, your voice dripping with seduction as you ground down just enough to make him groan. "That’s all for you, baby. This pussy’s been waitin’ to feel you inside me for weeks."

Aaron’s hands tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin like he was trying to keep himself from losing control.

"Quit playing, love," he growled, his voice rough and desperate. "You are gonna drive me crazy sittin’ up there like that. Put that pussy on me already."

You smirked, leaning down so your lips were just inches from his ear.

"What’s the matter? You can’t handle a little tease?" you purred, your breath hot against his skin as you rolled your hips again, letting him feel just how wet you were for him.

"You want this pussy so bad, huh? Tell me how bad you want it."

"Shit," he hissed, his hips bucking up instinctively as he tried to get closer to you.

"You wanna know how bad?" Aaron growled, his voice thick with need.

"I want it so bad I can’t think straight. I want it so bad it’s all I see when I close my eyes—this pussy, this body, riding me like you own me. I want it so bad I’d beg if you don’t give it to me right now. So quit playing and let me feel you, girl. Let me feel that heat, that group wrapped around me. ‘Cause I’m about to lose my damn mind up in here." Aaron moaned.

You bit your lip, holding back a moan as his words sent a rush of heat straight to your pussy.

"That’s what I love to hear," you whispered, finally lowering yourself onto him, inch by torturous inch. You gasped as he filled you completely, the stretch and burn to ignite every nerve in your body.

"Oh goodness," you breathed, your head falling back as you adjusted to him. "So big...you feel so good inside me."

Aaron groaned, his hands gripping your hips even tighter as he guided your movements. "Fuck, baby," he rasped, his voice strained. "I miss this pussy. Always so wet, so tight for me."

You moaned softly, your nails digging into his shoulders as you started to move, riding him with slow, deliberate rolls of your hips.

"You like that, Aaron?" you purred, your voice dripping with sweetness and sin. "You like how this pussy grips you? How it’s all yours, just for you?"

Aaron’s eyes fluttered shut briefly before he locked his gaze back on yours, dark and hungry.

"I love it, baby fuck, I love it," he growled, his voice rough and low. "This pussy is all mine, it's mine, nobody else can handle it like I do. Nobody else gonna make you feel like this."

His hands slid up your sides, thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending a shiver through your body. "You know that, right? This pussy belongs to me. Tell me it's mine."

You arched into his touch, your breath hitching as he teased your sensitive peaks. "Mmm, yes, it is," you whispered, grinding down harder on him, making him groan deep in his chest.

"All yours, baby. Only you can make me feel this good." You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "Only you can make me come so hard I forget my own name."

Aaron’s grip tightened around your waist, his fingers digging into your dark-brown skin as he pulled you closer, his breath hot and ragged against your neck.

“That’s right, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “You gonna scream my name louder than ever before. Ain’t no shame in it, either. Let the whole damn world know who you belong to.”

His other hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp, your body trembling with anticipation.

“Shit, Aaron,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as his teeth grazed your collarbone.

“You're gonna wreck me, huh? Gonna make me forget everything but you?” Your hips moved faster now, riding him with a desperate rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You could feel him throbbing inside you, his length hitting all the right spots, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Aaron’s lips crashed against yours in a fierce kiss, swallowing your moans as his tongue explored your mouth. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were blazing with intensity.

“Damn right, I am,” he muttered, his voice rough and commanding.

“I’m gonna ruin this pussy for anybody else. You ain’t never gonna want nobody but me forever. You hear me?”

His hands moved to your ass, gripping you tightly as he thrust up into you, his movements hard and relentless.

“Yes, Aaron, yes!” you cried, your voice rising with each powerful stroke.

“Only you, baby, it’s only ever been you!” Your nails raked down his shoulders as you clung to him, your body trembling with the force of your desire.

“Fuck, I’m so close, Aaron. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fucking cum!”

“That’s it, love,” he urged, his voice a low, guttural growl. “Cum for me. Let me feel that tight little pussy squeeze the soul outta me.” His thrusts became even more intense, each one driving you closer to the brink.

“No holding back. You give me everything you got, you hear me?” Aaron added.

“I can’t—I can’t hold it,” you sobbed, your body arching as the first wave of your climax crashed over you. “Oh fuck, Aaron, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

Your cries echoed through the room, your body convulsing as you shattered around him, your pussy clamping down on his big dick with a vice-like grip.

Aaron’s breath hitched, his own control slipping as he felt you come undone beneath him. “Fuck, baby, that’s it,” he groaned, his voice strained with the effort to hold back.

“You feel so good, so fucking good. You take all of me, huh? You take this dick like you were made for it.”

You could barely form words, your mind a haze of pleasure as you rode out the waves of your orgasm. But Aaron wasn’t done with you yet.

He lifts you and lays you at the corner of the couch, pinning your wrists above your head as he hovers over you and slams back into you; his pace is brutal and unrelenting.

Your back arched off the bed as he pounded into you, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars.

“Aaron!” you screamed, your voice raw and desperate. “Please, don’t stop! Don’t ever stop!”

“I'm stopping ‘til I fill this pussy up, baby,” Aaron growled, his voice thick with desire.

“You want that? Do you want me to nut deep inside you? Make you feel every drop?” His hips snapped forward with a force that had you gasping, your body trembling beneath him as he drove into you with a rhythm that was both punishing and intoxicating.

“Tell me how bad you want it.”

“So bad,” you moaned, your voice a desperate plea. “I need it, Aaron. I need you to fill me up and remember who I belong to. Please, baby, I can’t take it anymore—I need you to cum in me!”

Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him deeper as your nails dug into his back, leaving marks that only fueled his intensity.

“That’s my girl,” Aaron muttered, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your dark-brown skin with softness and admiration.

“Taking this dick like a fucking queen. You love this shit, don’t you? Love feeling me stretch that pussy out; make it mine.” His thrusts became erratic, his control slipping as he felt his own climax building.

“You gonna take every last drop of this nut, huh? Gonna let me breed that tight pussy?”

“Yes!” you cried, your body arching against his as the heat between you both reached its peak.

"Breed me, Aaron. Make it so I can’t forget what you did to me." Your voice was a ragged whisper, trembling with need as you felt him swell inside you, his dick throbbing with the promise of release.

"That’s it," he snarled, his hands gripping your hips hard as he pounded into you, each thrust hitting deeper, harder.

"You’re gonna feel me for days, baby. Every time you move, every time you sit down, you’re gonna remember this dick splitting you open."

His voice was a low growl, possessive and raw, sending shivers down your spine.

Your head fell back, a keening moan escaping your lips as he hit that perfect spot inside you again and again. The pressure was building, your body coiling tight like a spring ready to snap.

"Aaron, I’m so close," you gasped, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. "Then cum for me," he demanded, his voice rough and commanding.

"Cum with me as I fill you up. Let me feel that pussy milk every drop out of me." His pace quickened, his hips slamming into yours with a force that had you crying out, your body trembling on the edge.

And then it hit you—a wave of pleasure so intense it felt like you were being torn apart and put back together all at once. Your body convulsed, your walls clenching around him as you came hard, your screams muffled against his shoulder.

Aaron groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge, his dick pulsing deep inside you as he emptied himself, his release hot and thick as it filled you to the brim.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice hoarse as he collapsed on top of you, his body still shuddering with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“You feel that, baby?” He asked, pushing his cum in and out as he kissed you then, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that left you breathless, his tongue sliding against yours as he poured every ounce of his desire into that kiss.

You moaned into his mouth, your hand on the back of his neck as you kissed him back with equal fervor, your bodies still connected as you both rode out the last waves of pleasure together.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with satisfaction, a smug grin tugging at his lips as he looked down at you.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice low and possessive. “All mine.”

You lay there, spent and trembling, your body still humming with the intensity of what had just happened between you. The air was thick with the scent of sex, the room silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing.

Aaron shifted slightly, pulling you closer so that you were lying on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he held you close.

“That was…” you started, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find the words to describe your feelings.

“Perfect,” Aaron finished for you, his voice filled with a quiet satisfaction. He kissed the top of your head, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back as you lay there, basking in the afterglow.

“You’re so perfect.”

You smiled, your eyes closing as you let yourself relax in his arms, the warmth of his body enveloping you. After a few minutes of lying there, tangled in each other and breathing.

Aaron finally shifted, his hands sliding down your back. “C’mon,” he murmured, his voice still rough but softer now, laced with affection.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

You and Aaron got dressed in some casual clothes, and Aaron got some food delivered. You two were eating and chatted about what’s been going on despite your little argument earlier.

“So,” you said, leaning. “You know that movie premiere tomorrow night?” You paused, biting your lip to hide the sly smile creeping onto your face.

“I was thinkin’… maybe you could come with me. As my date.”

Aaron’s fork froze mid-air, a piece of food dangling precariously as he turned to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Really?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, but there was a hint of playfulness there too. “Are you sure you want that? I mean, I’m all for it.”

You smirked, leaning closer to him, your voice dripping with confidence.

“Oh, I’m more than sure. Let ‘em talk. Let ‘em get jealous. Let ‘em know I’m yours, and you’re mine. But…” You paused for effect, your eyes locking with his.

“We’ll still keep it private between us. No need to give ‘em all the details.”

You and Aaron got dressed in some casual clothes, and Aaron got some food delivered. You two were eating and chatted about what’s been going on despite your little argument earlier.

“So,” you said, leaning. “You know that movie premiere tomorrow night?” You paused, biting your lip to hide the sly smile creeping onto your face.

“I was thinkin’… maybe you could come with me. As my date.”

Aaron’s fork froze mid-air, a piece of food dangling precariously as he turned to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Really?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, but there was a hint of playfulness there too. “Are you sure you want that? I mean, I’m all for it.”

You smirked, leaning closer to him, your voice dripping with confidence.

“Oh, I’m more than sure. Let ‘em talk. Let ‘em get jealous. Let ‘em know I’m yours, and you’re mine. But…” You paused for effect, your eyes locking with his.

“We’ll still keep it private between us. No need to give ‘em all the details.”

Aaron’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smirked, setting his fork down on the edge of his plate. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his expression thoughtful.

“Alright, so you’re saying… you want to take me to the premiere. As your date. And we’re keeping it private but still making it clear to everyone else that we’re… together.”

He paused, his gaze never leaving yours. “And you’re okay with that? With everyone knowing, even if we’re not broadcasting the details?”

You nodded, your confidence unwavering. “Why wouldn’t I be? We’re adults, Aaron. And what we have… it’s worth it. Besides, I think it’s time people know that you’re off the market.”

Aaron chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. He pushed his chair back and stood, walking over to you with a slow, predatory grace.

“And who’s going to make sure I stay off the market?” asked, his voice low and teasing as he leaned down, his face inches from yours.

You grinned, your heart pounding in your chest. “Oh, I think I can handle that.” Before you could say another word, Aaron’s lips were on yours, warm and firm, sending a wave of heat through your body.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as the room around you faded. All that mattered was the two of you, lost in the moment, the world outside melting into nothingness.

The following day, Aaron lay sprawled across the bed, his bare chest rising and falling with each slow breath, the sheets tangled around his waist.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching him sleep, a smile playing on your lips. The memory of the previous conversation hung in the air like a promise, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement for what the day—and the night—had in store.

“Morning,” Aaron mumbled, his voice husky with sleep as he stirred, stretching his arms above his head.

His eyes fluttered open, locking onto yours with a warm, sleepy grin. “What time is it?”

“Almost Noon,” you replied, caressing his forehead. “But we’ve got a full day ahead of us. Thought we could make the most of it before tonight.”

Aaron sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Sounds like a plan. What did you have in mind?”

You stood, walking over to the wardrobe where you’d laid out clothes the night before.

“I was thinking we could spend the day out. Maybe walk along the South Bank and grab some food at Borough Market. Just enjoy the city together before the chaos of the premiere.”

Aaron’s face lit up with interest as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Sounds good!” He said, getting out of bed butt-naked, and you laughed, smacked his ass.

“Sounds good!” He said, getting out of bed butt-naked and you laughed, smacked his ass.

“Cheeky little-,” Aaron muttered, though the grin on his face said he didn’t mind one bit. He grabbed the towel off the bed and wrapped it around his waist, his confidence as naked as his body.

“You better stop playin’ with fire, yeah? Or I’ll have to take you back to bed.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool, but the heat in your cheeks and the smile on your face told on you. “Please, you’re the one who’s been sleepin’ in till noon. If we don’t get movin’, we’ll miss the whole day.”

Aaron smirked, sauntering over to the bathroom.

“Blame me, innit? Had a right proper distraction last night.” Steam curling up, he flicked on the shower and stepped inside without closing the door.

“You comin’ in or what?”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “You think I’m fallin’ for that? We’ve got plans, remember? You’re not gonna derail ‘em with your… distractions.”

“Suit yourself,” Aaron called back, his voice muffled by the water.

“But you’re missin’ out. Could’ve been a right nice way to start the day.”

You shook your head, chuckling as you turned away. “You’re such a liar. You’d have us late and miss the whole market.”

“True, yeah,” Aaron admitted, his voice carrying over the water. “But it’d be worth it, wouldn’t it?”

You didn’t respond, but the thought lingered as you went to get dressed. By the time Aaron came out of the bathroom, his face dripped, and his skin glowing from the shower.

You were already halfway through your coffee, scrolling through your phone for the day’s itinerary. Aaron padded over to you, water droplets clinging to his chest as he leaned in to kiss your head.

“You know I’m just takin’ the piss, right? I wouldn’t actually make us late.” Aaron said, drying himself off.

“Sure you wouldn’t,” you said dryly, not looking up.

Aaron laughed, grabbing the other cup of coffee you’d poured for him. “Fair enough. You know me too well.”

Once he was dressed—looking effortlessly sharp in a simple black tee, jeans, baseball cap, and sunglasses—you both set out into the crisp air.

The South Bank was alive with energy, the Thames glinting in the sunlight as you walked hand in hand. The smell of street food hit you when you turned the corner near Borough Market, and your stomach growled in anticipation.

“Love, I’m proper starvin’,” Aaron said, squeezing your hand. “What’s the plan? You better not be thinkin’ we’re just window shoppin’.”

“Relax,” you said, smirking.

“I’ve got your back. There’s this one stall I saw last time I was here that I’ve been dying to try once I visit here again—it does the best jerk chicken and proper Caribbean vibes. And don’t even get me started on the halloumi fries.”

Aaron’s eyes lit up. “Halloumi fries? Now you’re talkin’. Let’s go find this place before I waste away.”

You led the way through the crowded market, weaving past stalls selling everything from handmade jewelry to fresh flowers. The air was thick with the smells of spices and grilled meats, and the sounds of vendors calling out to passersby mingled.

“Ah, there it is,” you said, tugging gently on Aaron’s hand as you spotted the stall between a vintage clothing stand and a bustling flower shop.

The sign read “Kiya's Caribbean” and the aroma of allspice and thyme wafted through the air, mingling with the hum of reggae music playing softly from a portable speaker.

Aaron’s eyes widened as you approached the stall, and his stomach growled audibly. “I can smell the magic from here. Let’s get in there before they run out.”

The vendor, a cheerful dark brown-skinned woman with a warm smile, a gold hoop in her nose, and long beautiful locs, greeted you both with a hearty.

“Y’ello, darlin’! What can I get for yuh today?”

“Everything, please,” Aaron said, not missing a beat. “But especially that jerk chicken. And don’t be stingy with it, yeah?”

She laughed, her voice rich and melodic. “Oh, you’re a bold one, ain’t ya? Alright, let’s set you up. For good measure, jerk chicken, rice and peas, plantain, and a side of fries.”

“And halloumi fries,” you added, nudging Aaron. “Don’t forget the halloumi fries.”

“Course not, sweetheart,” she said, winking. “I gotchu.”

As she worked her culinary magic, the grill sizzle and the rhythmic chopping of fresh herbs filled the air. Aaron leaned against the stall, his arm brushing against yours, and you couldn’t help but smile at how at ease he was, chatting with the vendor like they were old mates.

The first bite was divine when she handed you both a loaded tray. The jerk chicken was tender, the spices perfectly balanced, and the halloumi fries—crispy and creamy inside—were absolutely perfect.

You closed your eyes, savoring the flavors, and Aaron laughed, nudging you playfully. “Told you it’d be worth it,” he said, his mouth full. “You’re in your element, innit?”

You opened your eyes, catching the glint of mischief in his. “Shut up and eat your food.”

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of laughter, music, and the electric energy of the market. You wandered through the stalls, picking up a few trinkets.

Earrings shaped like tiny palm trees, a bracelet with a small charm of the Jamaican flag—and even stopped to watch a group of dancers performing to a live drum circle.

At one point, Aaron pulled you into the crowd, spinning you around with him until you were both breathless and laughing. The music was infectious, the rhythm pulsating through you like a heartbeat.

For a moment, it felt like the whole world had narrowed to just the two of you, lost in the moment's joy.

As the sun shone, you found yourselves at a small riverside spot, sharing a bottle of fresh water and watching the boats glide.

Aaron leaned back on his elbows, his eyes half-closed as he soaked in the view.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful, “days like this… they’re the ones that make life feel proper special.”

You smiled, twirling a strand of your curly hair around your finger. “Yeah,” you agreed quietly. “They’re the ones you remember.”

He turned his head, his gaze meeting yours, and for a moment, there wasn’t a single thing to say. The world just… was.

And in that moment, it was enough.

TAGS @writingsbytee @notapradagurl7 @ellemelaninbeauty @cocooned-butterfly

#aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre x reader #aaron pierre x black!reader #aaron pierre fic #black!fem!reader #aaron pierre x black fem reader #aaron pierre fanfic #x black reader #x black y/n #aaron pierre fluff #terry richmond x black!reader #aaron pierre smut

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jclolz22 · 2 days ago

Text

multi bot release

i thought i’d release some bots while i’m still finishing up my next big release, so here are some randoms that i’ve worked on lately. i hope you guys enjoy, and thank you again for all the support and love!!

note: yes i am aware that for the kate sharma bot, it is a combination of two different scenes, that did not happen at the same time, nor did they even happen consecutively. i was mistaken when i first made the bot and just kept it the way i did it. also, whoever requested the professor!tashi bot, i love you because this one is a new fave of mine.

aubrey posen and chloe beale — recruitment

ever since aubrey’s mishap at last year’s icca finals, things went downhill for the barden bellas. now, it’s a new school year, and they’re looking for new members. seeing them at the activity fair, neither chloe nor aubrey can stop themselves from trying to recruit you and rebuild the bellas’ image.

cece parekh — in love (gn!user)

you’ve tried so hard to deny your lasting feelings for cece, knowing that it’s the best thing for both of you, especially considering the fact that she doesn’t feel the same way. at least, that’s what you’ve thought for the longest time now. hearing jess’ confession of cece’s feelings for you has you ready to find her on that mountain and tell her the truth. that is, until you have an unexpected visitor at the loft.

kate sharma — bee fright

your pall-mall ball, along with kate’s, got lost in the forestry surrounding your home, so you and her go to search for them. after spotting the balls, you notice that they’re near an area you’d prefer to avoid. kate went over to her ball, ready to hit it when you saw a bee land on her, sending you into a deep panic. the memories of your father flashed in your mind, and you couldn’t stop yourself from being overcome with anxiety.

quinn fabray — real you

quinn is discouraged by lauren exposing her past, yet you want to make sure that she knows you don’t care about who she used to be— you love her anyway and want her to know that she shouldn’t be ashamed of her younger self.

quinn fabray — reuniting (req./gn!user)

dating quinn was more than wonderful, but going to different colleges and trying to do long distance just didn’t work out. four years later, you’re both college graduates, and she’s more than excited to see you again. but when she shows up at your apartment and comes inside, the sight that surrounds her is one that shocks her all at the same time. she’s left with many questions, and wants the answers.

santana lopez — rumours

ever since you said that santana “plays for the other team,” it’s been the newest piece of hot gossip in the muckraker, mckinley’s student-run paper. it’s safe to say that seeing that in the latest edition did not make her happy; not at all.

tashi duncan — office hours (req.)

you love going to stanford, and you always enjoy going to class as you’re truly interested in what you’re studying. having tashi as one of your professors may or may not be your sole motivation when it comes to going to office hours consistently. well, every single day, actually. she’s even offered to provide you assistance on the weekends.

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fashionteahouse · 2 days ago

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Hi, I hope all is well. I was wondering if you could do a Jacob x reader imprint with Paul?

Reader is Jacob's imprint, but so is Renesmee. Since Jacob has also loved Bella and he ended up imprinting on Renesmee, he loves being with them. He has an imprint his age and also happens to be Paul's best friend. The reader makes plans and invites Jacob, but he always picks Renesmee over the reader because he doesn't actually like the reader. Paul finds out from Rachel that Jacob has been bulling reader and telling her she's not good enough and wishes he never imprinted on her and how Nessie is so much better and he can't wait to marry her when she's older. Paul gets pissed when he finds this out, and he also confronts Ranchel, saying that he's heard her say rude stuff about the reader to the other imprints and has gotten into a physical fight with her. Paul goes to the beach to find the reader and sees her jump from where he and the guys do . He freaks out, and his wolf tells him to save his imprint. Can it be long and have smut?

heyy everything is great hope all is well for you !😸 sure i would love to do this hope you enjoy :)

delete forever - jacob x reader ft. paul

The wise man looked between you both as you sat still, soaking in every word.

Imprinting.

It sounded foreign but yet so familiar in your ears. Jacob takes a look at you, it’s hard to read his expression which was new. You were used to being able to have a guess at what he was thinking.

“Are you alright, son?” Billy Black asked when he was finished.

Jacob stuck his lips out a bit nonchalantly before nodding, “Yeah. I’m good.”

Silence surrounds the small table. The scoot of the chair moves backwards as Jacob then tells his dad that he’s leaving.

“Where are you going, son?”

“Just going over Paul’s.”

“Y/N, why don’t you go? Rachel’s there.” Billy suggests with a smile. Jacob freezes at the door.

“S-sure.” you say.

You and Jacob ride in his car in silence. You were too afraid to ask questions. He didn’t care too much to get them out of you.

“Wassup, man.” Jacob says and goes in with the handshake, Paul hits his back once and waves to you. You wave back.

“Yup. She’s my imprint.” he says. There’s no feeling for you to detect. Rachel looks at you as you sat meekly on the couch.

“She is?” she asks her brother. He nods in confirmation.

“Congrats to you both. Now Jake can stop getting on me and Rach’s nerves.” Paul chuckles. Jacob laughs sarcastically.

You smile a bit and Rachel doesn’t offer you a kind look as she continues to stare at you.

You look down.

“Rachel’s party is this weekend. Y/N are you coming?” Paul offers.

“Is she?” Rachel asks.

“She should.” Paul says to her before looking back to you.

“Sure..Will you be there, Jake?” you ask quietly.

“I’ll probably show my face. I should bring Bella.” he says.

“Yeah! Bring Bella.” Rachel says with more enthusiasm. Jacob grinned.

“I thought you didn’t like her?” Paul asks.

“Well..She’s a good gift giver.” Rachel defended with. Paul shakes his head with a slight roll of his eyes.

Billy Black calling you surprised you the next day, early in the morning.

“You…Imprinted on Renesmee too?” you ask him carefully. You watch the grin on his face grow as you both sat on his living room couch.

“Yeah.”

“But…She’s…She’s young.”

“I’m going to be her protector. I am her protector.” Jacob says in total defense mode, it caught you off guard. He’s never sounded that way when speaking about you.

“Why two imprints?” you ask Billy.

“We are thinking it’s to reward Jacob for stepping up to be the Alpha. He gets to actually choose.” Billy says.

Ever since that day, it felt like you had to fight for his attention.

“Want to go to the movies?” you ask as you knew for a fact he loved action movies.

“Nah…I’m going with Nessie.”

“To see a Disney movie? Come on, Jake.” you say through the phone.

“You asked and I said no. Okay?” he says and hang up. You stare at the phone in total disbelief.

You sat by yourself as you watched Rachel greet guests and dance. You came by yourself because when you asked Jacob for a ride, he said the car was full from him picking Bella and Renesmee up.

Bullshit.

You tell this to Paul when he gives you something to drink while asking where Jacob was and why you both didn’t come together.

“I thought Bella couldn’t be here because of the treaty?”

“You know Jacob. He made an exception for her. Now that…Nessie….Is his imprint, it’s allowed by the elders.” Paul whispered.

He sits next to you to keep you company. It wasn’t long before Rachel shimmied over to him and grab his hands, “Dance with me!”

Paul chuckled, “You’re drunk already?”

“I’m just tipsy.” she slurred.

“Sure.” he replied dripping in sarcasm.

You watch as Paul danced with Rachel. You kind of wish it was like that with you and Jacob. They weren’t imprinted but yet, they were defining the odds.

Paul joked all the time that he did so much that even his ancestors believed he shouldn’t be tied with someone. His bloodline would end with him. He still hasn’t found his imprint. Just to be safe, he didn’t mind getting cozy with Rachel because she was apart of his tribe.

“Bella! Nessie!” You hear and there they are, standing with gifts for Rachel. Renesmee gives a shy hug to Rachel and you watched a rare sight. Rachel hugged Bella. Jacob smiled at the moment until he looked over at you watching them.

After Paul mingled about, Paul tells you that he’s only grabbing Rachel’s cake and he will be right back.

“The girls are in the backyard. I’m sure you’re bored of the guys.” he says while grinning.

The sports game was playing as the pack make deep conversation about the plays.

You slowly get up and go to the backyard.

Renesmee sits on Bella’s lap as the girls sit at a table while laughing loudly and talking.

Every eye goes to you once you come out.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” they all say off key and awkwardly.

They watch you take a chair and sit in total silence. They blink at you for a moment before one speaks out, “Why do you do that?”

You look up to Jared’s imprint, Kim.

“Do…What?”

“Just sit there.”

“Because she’s a little slow. Leave her alone.” Rachel says. They burst into a laughing fit.

You look down as you felt angry at such low blow of an insult.

“Don’t be rude.” Bella says low.

“What? Well, she acts like it. No wonder Jacob would rather hang with an extroverted child than someone his own age.”

You get up and make your way to the door, leaving the backyard. You didn’t want to hear them talk, they continued to talk and laugh even with you out of the room.

You were silent as everyone else happily sing happy birthday to Rachel. You blink as she blew out her candles.

You sit again by yourself after she opens gifts.

“Can you give me a ride to Port Angeles? Please!” Quil asks Paul once the night was late.

“Dude, seriously?”

“Please. I will give you gas money and everything. I’m linking up with this girl and she’s...” he then whistles a bit as he thinks about what she looks like.

Paul sighs loudly before he grits, “Get in the car.”

Paul smooched Rachel before telling her he will be back.

He then tells you, “Go ahead and take some cake home. It’s going to do nothing but sit there anyways.”

You quietly tell him thank you and he leaves out.

You walk through the home and Jacob kneels as he helped Renesmee with her jacket.

“You’re leaving?” you ask.

“Yeah.” Jacob says quietly.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” he says quickly and grabs the child’s hand as his tone changed, “Come on, Ness.”

You enter the kitchen and the giggling stopped once again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Rachel demanded from the table.

You held up the knife, “I’m just getting some cake.”

“Who said?”

“Um…Paul said I could take some home.”

“Answer me this. Is it Paul’s birthday? Or is it my birthday?”

Giggles started to form and you eye the clock. It was after twelve.

“Neither. It’s past 12AM. Your day is officially over.”

Rachel stomped to you, “You’re trying to be funny?”

You stare blankly at her.

“Well, I got jokes.” she says and shoved you. Hard.

The knife was still in your hand as you stumbled back and you heard one of the imprints say, “Girl. She has a knife.”

Rachel grabs it out of your hand with no fear.

“You were gonna stab me with this?”

“N-no. I would never.” you stammer out. She sets it down on the counter with a clatter and takes your paper plate away with a snatch.

“I said…You’re not getting cake.”

“But-“

“What did I say?”

“Don’t be a bitch about it Rachel.” you say.

Gasps and ooh’s erupt the room as they instigate.

A hard slap hits your face. You tearfully hit her back before Rachel grabs a fist full of your hair and you both punch at each other before people get Rachel off of you.

“I’m gonna be a bitch if I want to. It’s my birthday. Mine.” she says.

You bounce your leg when you prayed Jacob would pick up the phone as you sat on the beach. The party was a week ago and you haven’t seen him since.

“Speak.” he says after the second time you call. Impatience was the last thing that he suppressed.

“Um..Hi.”

“What do you want, Y/N. I’m kind of busy right now.”

“I just wanted to hang out.” you say and let him know that you’re at the beach.

He sighs on the other side of the call, “Did you seriously call me just to come hang out with you a beach. Like, are you seriously forreal right now?”

“Yeah..I just..”

“Look. I get that you’re my imprint and all but we can be…Acquaintances.”

“Acquaintances.” you repeat back like a parrot.

“Yeah…”

You watched when you would go over Billy’s house how the little girl had Jacob in the palm of her hand. She was innocent. Him, not so much. He was babysitting her and he ordered you around like you were staff.

“Get her a cup.” he ordered you.

You set the cup down and he poured her juice as he cooed to her.

“Do you play dolls?” Renesmee asks you as she innocently stands while you watch television.

You smile and before you could open your mouth, Jacob enters, “I can play with you, Nessie.”

“Can Y/N join?” She says with excitement.

“No. Come on, Ness.”

Footsteps retreat as you soon heard the bin of Rachel’s old dolls be poured on the floor.

That’s what you did when you had to hear the time that they were spending together. It was hard to just leave because the pain in your chest was only soothed when you were around him.

You began to think you were in hell.

It was a sunny day on the beach and Paul sort of invited you last minute when he noticed that everyone except you were there.

“Want to make a sandcastle?” you heard Jacob ask Renesmee. She nods happily and grabs her bucket.

You slowly walk over as they were building. Jacob’s face drips with annoyance.

“Can I help?” you ask.

Renesmee smiles and gives you a shovel and you sit on your knees in the sand.

“We’re good, Y/N.”

“What’s wrong with trying to help?” you mutter.

“You messed up what we were building.”

Resnesmee leaves off to refill her bucket.

“It’s fine. I’ll just fix it.”

“Would you quit it?” he hissed.

You freeze.

“Damn! You….” he huffed angrily, “Why the hell did I even imprint on you, huh?” he says to you only you could hear.

“Why are you talking like that?”

“Because I’m frustrated! I choose Nessie. Not you. So, you don’t have to keep inserting yourself because you don’t soothe me or my wolf. She does. You’re not good enough for us. Nessie is. When she grows up, she will be able to see our bond and we can get married and I can’t wait. Until then, butt out.”

You drop the shovel as your sight began to be blurry. Your heart broke in a clean split. Resnesmee watched in confusion as she tries to return to the sandcastle with a bucket full of fresh wet sand.

“Are you leaving?” she asks in a small voice. You nod sadly not wanting to let a child see you cry.

“Have fun, okay?” you say with a smile that you tried your best to muster up and walk off.

You look over before leaving and Jacob is immersed in the time he’s spending with Renesmee. He looked up once and the look gave you a shiver down your spine. Almost like disgust.

You accept this. Jacob didn’t want you. You definitely didn’t want him. As you went home, you felt like you were leaving the bond right at the beach.

That night, Paul sat on the edge of the bed with his hands clasped together.

“He said all of that?” Paul asks quietly with furrowed eyebrows.

Rachel chuckled a bit, “Yeah. That’s why she left.”

Paul sighed in disbelief.

“He stays bullying her. He must really hate the imprint bond they have.” she says as she laughs.

“The fuck are you laughing for?” Paul speaks darkly.

She pauses as she looks at Paul’s dark demeanor. He turns to her and expects her to answer so he asks her another question, “What? You think that shit is funny?”

She’s silent as she looks at him.

He rolls his eyes and turns back forward.

“You’re acting like I’m the one who said that.” she tells him.

“I’m not dumb Rachel and you’re pretending like I am and that’s pissing me off.”

“How? Did I call you dumb?” she quizzed him.

“No, but I know what you did at your party.”

Silence dropped like a dead weight.

“Forgot to get my keys when it was time to drop Quil off. I heard you talking shit with all of the imprints. Why did you feel the need to put your hands on her?”

“She had a knife! She embarrassed me on my birthday!”

“She’s better than me. Blood would’ve shed.”

Rachel scoffs, “You’re such a weirdo.”

“Takes one to know one. Isn’t that right?”

Rachel rolls her eyes and grabs your belongings, “I’m out.”

Paul didn’t care. The door slammed and he lay back in bed as he made plans to apologize to you on behalf of both Rachel and Jacob.

He blinked awake as he made his way to your house. You weren’t there. He knew your next favorite place was the beach.

He scanned the shore but didn’t see you either. He puts two hands on his hips as he knew for a fact you wouldn’t go to Jacob’s, especially not after what happened.

He saw a figure, high up on a cliff. He called your name but you couldn’t hear him. He called it again with two hands around his mouth to echo it. No use.

He ran to where he would have to get to the top of the cliffs.

The wind whipped on your skin as you stare down at the moving water.

You close your eyes. You blindly jump and Paul screamed your name louder as he was almost there to the top and seen your body jump off.

“Mine.”

“Imprint.”

“Save her.”

He listened to the determined voice of his wolf.

He dived right behind you.

You weren’t moving, you let the current of the water drag you down, pulling you into the darkness. The darkness that matched your damaged heart.

Paul’s strong hand pulled you out and he pressed and pressed on your chest on the shore until you gasped for air. Water couched out of your mouth as he sat you up. He rubbed your back as he patted it to make sure you coughed all of the water up.

You blink at him and it was like you saw an angel. The angel was Paul looking down at you in worry. It hit you both like whiplash as Jacob was forgotten. Rachel was forgotten. It was just you and him. You and him against the world. He saw a bright future. You saw a shimmer of hope.

He hugged your wet body then.

“Fuck…What the hell were you thinking, Y/N?” he whispered emotionally.

You couldn’t speak. He didn’t pressure you to.

You peel off your clothes in the bathroom and set them outside of the bathroom door like Paul instructed. He threw them in the dryer while you stood in the shower. You don’t rush.

Your mind racked with wonders and fear but your heart reminded you that you were right where you belonged. As you scrubbed your skin, you felt yourself being able to call his house, your home. You shake your head.

You clutched the towel as you sat on the toilet lid. You didn’t want to leave and face Paul.

A knock at the door startled you a bit.

“Yes?” you answer with a small voice.

“Are you alright? You’ve been in there for a while. Your clothes are dry.”

You were shocked that you were in the bathroom for that long.

You twist open the door but you sit back down on the toilet lid.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” he asks carefully. You clutched your towel tighter.

You opened your mouth but the words wouldn’t fall from the tip of your tongue.

He kneels in front of you.

“I heard what happened yesterday. It was fucked up.” he whispered. You look down.

“I don’t know if…I dont know if it’s me just completely heartbroken…But, when you saved me…It felt like it did when I looked at Jacob for the first time.”

“Y/N, I imprinted on you. That’s why you felt what you felt.”

Your bottom lip wobbled, “Just reject it. Reject it please. Delete forever.” you say and shake your head.

“No. No way in hell I’m doing that.”

“My old imprint threw me away like garbage. Don’t toy with me. Just let me know where my clothes are.” you say as you get up but the towel fell from your distress. Paul bit back on his lip before a shaky hand picked up your towel. You leave out the bathroom as you glanced about in the hallway.

He gently takes your arm.

“I’m not toying with you….Jacob is an idiot.” he says quietly.

You don’t say anything still not believing him but you couldn’t detect the lie you were looking for.

“Look at me.” he says encouragingly soft.

You look up.

He then slowly smiled, “Are you listening?”

You slowly nod.

“I feel on top of the world right now…Being around you brings me peace…Do I bring you peace?”

You think for a moment before you eventually nod. He rubbed your arms. His touch made you melt like ice cream on a hot summer day.

“You don’t ever have to worry about them, alright?” he says. You nod again.

“Do you…Accept the imprint with me?” he asks nervously. You never seen him nervous before. You nod again.

“No, I want to hear you say it.”

You crack open your mouth and whisper out a very sure yes. The smile he gave you made your heart pound in your ears.

Slowly, the gap between you two were closed as he placed a sweet kiss on your lips. You blink as you pull back. His thumb brushed your bottom lip to keep them slightly open. He leans in again. It was addicting just to do. You raise your hands to touch his face while he titled his head into the kiss.

You gasp as you realized that the towel had dropped again.

“Don’t worry about it.” he says in your ear, he pulled you to him and you felt the delicious heat from his skin.

His hands make your body respond in ways you never knew it could. The kiss was more sensual and passionate. You’ve never been kissed like that before and you found out very quickly that you liked it.

He takes your hand and let you feel the hardness in his shorts. He groaned in your mouth as you break out a breathy but soft moan.

He lifts you in his arms as if you were the most delicate china dish known to man.

Laying back, you pant slightly as you look at him. He shoved his shorts down and takes your hand again to feel him. He was so heavy and so veiny.

Breaths were heavy as you watch him groan and move his hips while you held him in your hand.

He goes in for another kiss which makes you feel achy and horny. You’ve been excited before but this was something different.

A set of warm hands caressed your body as you lay back on his comfortable bed.

Lips and tongue circled the nipples the your breast before he sleeked his fingers in your wet center. You sigh out.

He relaxed your thighs as he whispered for you to keep them open for him. You stutter out your breaths as he licked and ate at the moist center that was in his face.

His hands never stopped feeling your skin and you felt like you were in flames.

You didn’t know what was what. All you knew was that it was daylight when you arrived to it now being dark.

You breathe in and out when you pushed him away from not being able to take it anymore. You crawl away from him but he follows you.

On your hands and knees, you moan out shakily as he kept gliding himself in between you as his hands were firm on your waist and hips. He picked up the pace and you wished he was inside of you as he did so because it felt so good that you were crumbling all over again. He held you against him with your back to his chest as you fell apart once again.

He kissed your neck and felt the front of you. His hand caressed the center that was dripping wet.

Circling and dipping his fingers, you gripped his strong arms as you whined his name. Your hips moved to the sunken fingers that were inside of you as he traced his tongue with your ear. Your body gives out as you saw the same stars once again.

He lays you on your back as he slowly entered into you. He makes sure to keep your nub stimulated with his thumb as he does so.

You felt so full as you blinked at the darkness.

He moved and you felt like you were melting inside and out. He felt like he was in a wet dream. Both of you were so in the zone of each other, that you both forgot how to breathe at times.

Sitting hand in hand at Billy’s table, he smiled to you.

“When a door closes, a window will open.” he tells you both.

You look at each other with a smile that each other displayed to show that you both were happy. The feelings were mutual.

#jacob black #jacob black x reader #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote smut #wolf pack #wolfpack #y/n #y/n imagines #x y/n #x reader #x reader angst #paul lahote x you #paul lahote fluff #fanfic #twilight saga

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velnna · 2 days ago

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anon who got surgery here who said absint and your art in general was keeping them sane! unfortunately i badly broke my spine a few days ago and had to have ANOTHER major surgery... and recovery is SO boring.

AND YET, ONCE AGAIN your art and your characters are keeping me sane!!!

especially absint, he just looks soooo soft i want to comb his hair/fur and stroke him gently and give him kisses on the forehead and hold him so close and keep him warm...

the thing about his wing stumps vibrating when hes excited is SO SO SO CUTE and i love his four eyes and the fact that hes color blind...

and also im curious if he purrs?? i know some elves do in your setting, perhaps the moth man does too?? hehe

AND his skin/fluff texture sounds so wonderful and i love his looks and that one yawn pic you drew of him...

and also im curious about his diet, based on the yawning pic?? hes got those sharp teeth but hes also got that tongue like some bugs do that can slurp things up... whats his favorite food??

and also i think absint may enjoy a stim toy of mine: glitter jar!!!! its so soothing to shake up and watch the bright sparkles float around and swirl... mayhaps ill draw him with a glitter jar sometime when im recovered enough...

and last questions for now... i see hes down one arm, did he lose it or was it a birth difference?? and does he have any health conditions because of it and/or in general???

ALSOOOOO if you have any absint art that isnt spoilers and youd like to share btw, i am SO down to see, i love looking at the guy of all time... i also think he would look very cute all bundled up in a BIG baggy knit sweater, hes very skinny he needs to get warm...

but he would also absolutely SLAY in a corset... decisions, decisions...

BUT YEAH thank you for making your guys i enjoy them a normal amount hahahaha thank you for sharing your lovely art with the world!!!! and have a wonderful day :}

Ah that sucks I hope your recovery is going well!! Once again happy my characters provide some entertainment haha

Absint doesn't purr, that's reserved for some elf people sadly. He does chitter tho! Sometimes they're happy chitters (:

Diet-wise, it's,,,, a Special type of diet. I'll just say by default the sharp teeth are meant to puncture but also the mix of tongue + teeth can work similarly to a snake and he can indeed swallow a small animal whole if he must. Strong gastric acid and a relatively flexible body shape.

I think he'd definitely enjoy a glitter jar that's such a cute idea c:

Sadly no current Absint art that isn't public, a spoiler or a patreon exclusive but I'm definitely itching to give him a big knit sweater now so stay tuned

Thank YOU for appreciating my guys it means a lot <33

#ask #absint

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365emotionlessfaces · 2 days ago

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This is going to be a 10 part fic 🙃 I wrote it for entirely selfish reasons, but if you guys enjoy it, even better.

Melissa meets a girl at The Aspiring Teachers Program, but she’s just a kid. Many years later, she meets you and wonders if she should let go of the past.

The Aspiring Teachers Program

Part 1 WC~1.5k

Melissa was thirty-five and going through a nasty divorce from a nasty man. She had been in the teaching game for a decade now, and the last thing she wanted to do was volunteer for some Aspiring Teachers Program. Well, second to last. The redhead supposed that the only thing worse would be to be spending the week in the same house as Joe.

When she had told her friend, Barbara from work, the woman had just laughed and said that she had quit going to those things years ago. Too much hullabaloo for her liking. But Melissa needed out of the house, so she decided this would be the first and the last time she signed up for this stupid program.

The end of the school year came faster than Melissa would have liked, and by the second day of summer break, her suitcase was packed and she was on a flight to Chicago, of all places. The stupid program chose a new city and a different mix of teachers every year, so there was no guarantee you’d get an invite. To Melissa, that didn’t sound like too bad a deal. Yeah, sure, she’d have to be around a bunch of eighteen to twenty year olds, answer their questions, try to get them interested in teaching, and she was definitely not thrilled about that, but it beat what was waiting at home. Plus, it was all expenses paid.

When Melissa’s taxi pulled up to the camp, the literal camp, she started to think maybe she shouldn’t have come. It was very… rustic. Looking around, she realized that this thing was a lot bigger than she had anticipated. There must be at least a hundred people walking around. She noted the woman with the bullhorn seemed to have a sense of calm in the chaos that looked to be surrounding her. As Melissa exited the taxi, the bullhorn lady could be heard calling out names and assigning them to cabins. She rolled her eyes. This was going to be a long week.

As she stood amongst the crowd, but far enough back that she had a healthy amount of personal space, she listened for her name. A girl hollering off to her left made her turn her head to see the hubbub.

“Yo, Tie-Dye Girl. A little help here!” A young girl of probably twenty or so, stood in front of a giant pile of duffel bags and suitcases and waved to a woman in her forties wearing a campy tie-dyed shirt, who promptly turned on her heel and came to the girl's rescue. Melissa rolled her eyes.

“It’s giving Parent Trap,” a voice from Melissa’s right jolted her away from the tie-dye scene and to the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed teenager that stood beside her. The shock of the girl being so close startled Melissa so much, she let out a small yelp.

“What the hell are ya doin’, kid?” Melissa snapped. “I coulda killed ya.” The girl was not affected by Melissa’s harshness, or if she was, she certainly didn’t show it. In fact, Melissa was sure she saw the girl’s grin grow wider before she replied.

“Sorry,” the girl was radiating happiness and cheer, and it was almost enough to make Melissa sick. “You were standing here all alone, so I thought I’d make a friend.” The girl’s smile was so bright and strong, Melissa wondered if the girl ever stopped smiling. “It just reminds me of a movie from when I was a little girl.”

“You’re still a little girl.”

“I’m young, sure, but I’m almost twenty,” Melissa huffed at the girl’s response. Her smile still hadn’t faltered.

“Listen, I’m not a good friend, okay? So why don’t ya go make friends with those guys over there?” The redhead pointed randomly in the crowd, hoping the young girl would get the hint and leave her the hell alone. She wanted to enjoy this week as much as she could, and having a thorn in her side would not make that task easy.

After the young girl kept trying to make conversation, and had gone so far as to introduce herself, Melissa felt obligated to at least give the kid a name.

“Em,” she had told her. When the girl asked for her full name, or even her last name, Melissa joked with her. “What are you? The cops? If you’re the cops, you gotta tell me!” The young girl laughed and seemed to leave the matter alone after that.

Melissa had gone to the restroom, and when she returned to her bags, the young girl and her bags had gone. She took that as a small blessing and continued to listen for her name. Once given her cabin, she trudged her way to it, bags trailing along with her. She pushed through the cabin door, looked around the room, and thanked her lucky stars that the remaining bed free of luggage was the bottom of one of the two bunk beds. She’d be damned if she had to climb a freakin’ ladder to get to bed!

She unpacked the clothes and most of things she brought, and headed to the mess hall where the first meeting would be held. This would be where Teacher Buddies would be assigned and Melissa got to find out who she’d be spending the next two weeks with. Melissa was considered a Veteran Teacher, despite the fact that she was only in her mid thirties. She supposed it was due to the fact that the older teachers knew better than to come to these things. Since she was of the higher rank, she would be assigned to an Aspiring Teacher. One of these fresh-faced little things that had their whole lives ahead of them, and they wanted to teach. Poor things.

When she entered the hall, it was all abuzz. It was worse than the cafeteria at her elementary school the day after Halloween. There were grown adults and young adults laughing and yelling happily alike. Despite all the noise, Melissa thought it was kinda nice to see a room full of happy faces. Even if she knew most of them wouldn’t last. She looked around and found a few faces that looked like they wouldn’t be too much trouble for the next week. She hoped that she got one of them.

She was approached by the bullhorn lady, only this time she didn’t have the bullhorn, and was told that as a Veteran Teacher, she would go up on the stage with the other Veterans and draw the name of their Aspiring Teacher. This idea was not as thrilling to Melissa as Bullhorn Lady was trying to make it seem, but she did it anyway. When it was her turn, and she pulled out the name that young girl from earlier had given her, she considered making up a fake name, and pretending that her Aspiring Teacher hadn’t shown up. Unfortunately, before she could enact that plan, Bullhorn Lady took the paper and read the young girl’s name out loud. There was clapping and hooting, and then there the girl was again.

She and Melissa made their way to a table in the back and sat down. Melissa looked at the girl as she made some comments about not believing in fate or destiny and some bullcrap about coincidences, and the redhead wondered why the girl would tell her something like that. The girl had that damn smile, still, and her eyes were… kinda shiny. Melissa wondered if she had been that beautiful when she was younger. Surely not, or she wouldn’t currently be going through a divorce.

“So, whattaya think?” The young girl asked, making Melissa snap back to reality.

“Sorry, Parent Trap. I wasn’t listenin’. Whadja say?” This time when the girl smiled, there was something else to it. The redhead noticed the difference, but couldn’t quite tell what it meant. Melissa had to work to focus on what she was saying instead of getting lost in her thoughts again.

“I was thinking that you could hit me with the worst of it first. Tell me all the horror stories about teaching, so I can steel myself for them now, ya know? And then if I can make it through those, maybe you can tell me why it’s worth it?”

Those plans were foiled before Melissa could be the one to break the girl’s heart. Bullhorn Lady announced that the week would be a series of competitions and games for the Buddies, and the free time at the end of the nights would be dedicated to asking and answering all the questions the Aspiring Teachers had. Melissa groaned. This is not what she thought this week would look like.

When she returned to her cabin after everyone was released from the mess hall, Melissa was surprised to see that not only was the young girl her Buddy, she was also one of her three roommates. ‘Oh, boy. This just keeps getting better.’ She decided that it was in her best interest to mind her business, and only talk to the girl when necessary. So she grabbed her pajamas, and changed in the tiny bathroom provided in the corner of the only slightly larger cabin. The air was warm for Chicago, which made Melissa very glad that she chose the outfits she did. When she returned to her bed in her light pink silk tank top and matching shorts, she was too focused on minding her own business that she didn’t notice the young girl’s eyes glued to her frame or how flushed the girl’s face had become.

Part Two

#melissa schemmenti x reader #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary

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ashleyrosereads · 3 days ago

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Sun Shower - Ch. 1

a Ridoc x fem reader fanfiction

I know I'm not the only one obsessed with Ridoc after Onyx Storm so I putting all my passion into a Ridoc x reader fanfiction that I hope you enjoy! also eventually this will be 18+ just be patient

The chiming of the bell announces eight o'clock, it's time.

The ringing strikes my ears and throughout my entire body as I move toward the line forming for the riders quadrant, chancing a look at the northern turret. The direction I should be heading in.

I keep my hands from fidgeting, as I wait in the long line. Fidgeting shows nerves. Shows weakness. I will not be making myself a target on day one. Heather told me everything I needed to know for the impending day. Showing nerves on day one was an easy tell of a weak cadet, she said. I trusted every word of wisdom she gave me over the summer, she has been the only girl in our village who lived to tell the tale of the riders quadrant in many years. Even if I didn't trust the information she gave me, it was the only information I had. So I clung to it with every fiber of me being.

I kept my hands on the straps of my pack as I waited, watching the world around me continue to move. There was a breeze in the air, and it was sunny for now. The darkening clouds on the horizon didn't calm any of my nerves though. I could only hope I would get across the parapet before any kind of storm hit.

A strangled sob came from my left. A mother was crying in a man's arms as her child walked into the line. Other families were scattered around clinging to their candidates. Some are sending them off with smiles while others it’s with tears hugging their cheeks. Just like her.

I couldn't help but feel utterly alone in that moment.

Of my own fault though. My dad begged to be here and see me off. But he didn’t need to see me openly defying the lifelong legacy of our healer family to become a rider. It’s better he’s in the dark, then the stress of daily life won’t become harder wondering if his daughter could die at any moment.

He would understand why, but it would still kill him knowing what I’m doing every day. Even knowing I’m doing it for mom. After her death, we'd both been inconsolable. He buried himself in the farm. And the more I thought about Basgiath, the more I couldn’t stand being in the sidelines healing. I want revenge. And I plan on getting it. So I buried myself in training.

The line continues to move and I leave my hands on the straps of my pack to hold me steady. The weight of my backpack is light, but once I get to the front of the line it feels as if I filled it with boulders as I bend over and write my name on the blank sheet before being guided into the door of the turret.

The bright light from the outside dimmed automatically in the dark column of stone. There wasn't a window in sight in the spiraling stairwell leading to the parapet above. I continued forward until I reached the cadet in front of me, about ten steps up.

He seemed to be chatting away with the guy in front of him. He wasn't the only one as there was a muttered chatter that drowned out what anyone was actually saying. I wasn't sure what I was expecting but chatter wasn't it. I assumed it would be quiet, foreboding maybe? How could anyone have light conversation at a time like this. I can’t help but keep moving forward, breathing through the nerves and closely watching each step so I don’t have to fall to a deadly fate too early.

The lack of windows mixed in with the heavy breaths of those surrounding me made for a taxing climb. The walls felt as if they were closing in, not knowing if the staircase was actually getting thinner or the anxiety of what I was doing was catching up to me.

I went to take a step, looking too closely at the stair under my foot and not in front of me. I didn't realize the line had stopped moving and walked right into the candidate in front of me. Almost causing a domino effect of tripping, if he hadn’t so smoothly caught himself on the wall of stone. The man turned toward me, his dark eyebrow lifted hiding behind his curly black hair that hung over his bronze forehead. He crossed his arms, showing off his bulging muscles.

Did all riders look like... this?

“Well hello” his sure voice purrs. “Trying to get rid of the competition early?” He says with a lilting voice.

I froze for a moment. Not sure what to say to that...Joke? “No. Just not paying attention. Sorry about that” I answer. He shrugs it off.

“No harm, good last minute balance practice” his smile hasn’t faltered, as he waited for her to do something, say something. What was I supposed to say to that? “Ridoc” he adds, holding out a hand.

“I'm not interested in making friends” I try to snap. The last thing I need is to be getting attached to anyone on the first day of death camp.

“What about the benefits?” He asks, making me scoff. What is this guy on to make him so damn lighthearted walking into the most dangerous quadrant in existence.

The line moves and he takes a step up backwards, not glancing behind him. No hand on the wall, nothing.

My confidence that he will make it across seems more sure than my own.

“You setting up your conquests already?” I ask because, well honestly, maybe the other people have a point. As the light toward the top of the turret brightens a distraction is alleviating.

“Well I’m looking to celebrate tonight, this guy here’s not interested” he gestures his head toward the blonde guy in front of him who doesn’t acknowledge the exchange.

“How unfortunate for you.” If I had this guys confidence I’d rule the world.

“Well it doesn’t have to be.” He winks. I can’t help but laugh. In the eye of death this man is cracking jokes.

I can hear the front of the line now. People giving their names before crossing and shouting outside. Is that rain too? Oh shit.

“So my room or yours tonight?” He leans against the stone wall, crossing his legs.

“We don’t get rooms until after threshing” I correct him. Heather told me that. She also told me not to get distracted by advances until after threshing, not only because then I'll have my own room but also because if someone distracts me then they can easily stab me in the back. Literally.

“Right right.” He bites his lip, contemplating “we will just have to find a nice broom cupboard then. I’m sure there’s plenty.”

“You are-“

“I know, irresistible.” I’m struck silent. Something is what I was going to say but I don’t find it in me to continue as we’re only a few people from the front. He goes to turn around but peaks back over his shoulder.

“You want to skip me in line?” He asks pointing at the spot in front of him.

“Why so you can push me off as punishment for almost getting you killed before parapet?” I ask, feeling my brow raising in question. I didn't realize it was possible for his smile to widen.

“No, there was no almost killing. You’ll have to be more inventive than tripping me on a staircase if that's your goal. I was thinking that if I follow you to the other side I’ll have more motivation to get there so I can start scoping out those cupboards.”

I let out another scoffing laugh. “Your impending death isn’t enough?”

“Not when you’re the other option” he winks.

“Name” the cadet barks from the entrance. Ridoc turns his head to the cadet. There were two there one taking names and another brooding by the opening.

And my gods they do all look like him.

“Ridoc Gamlyn” he says and the cadet scribbles the name.

“Alright. Go on.” He jerks his head to the exit of the turret. Ridoc turns one more time.

"See you on the other side Beautiful" He says before strutting out onto the parapet. The weather had worsened, there was a small spot of sun light in the dark clouds but not enough. Luckily the rain was only a slight drizzle and the wind didn't sound too relentless but making it across was still going to be a feat.

"Name" Barked the cadet, this time to me.

"Y/N Y/L/N" He scribbles it, barely looking over the parchment before waving me off.

"You're next."

#fanfiction #ridoc fourth wing #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #ridoc x reader #fourth wing x reader #ridoc gamlyn #ridoc gamlyn x reader #iron flame #onyx storm #reader insert #fem reader #chapter one #sun shower

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skzdelf · 2 days ago

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(물 분수) Water Fountain | Lee Felix

.ᐟPAIRING: Fairy!Felix x f!reader

.ᐟSYNOPSIS: It was an ordinary summer day when, by the water fountain, you met a blonde guy who would captivate you with his charming personality and special secrets.

.ᐟWC: 5.9k (5927)

You Met Him by the Water Fountain

It was a warm summer day when you found yourself wandering through the forest. That’s when you saw him—right next to your usual spot for relaxing. He was lying on his side on the soft grass, surrounded by small wildflowers, his back resting against the concrete fountain.

His blonde hair gleamed under the morning sun. You had never seen him before. In fact, you had never seen anyone around this part of the forest. Not because it was deep or dark—on the contrary, it was a beautiful, serene place—but people simply chose to ignore these areas, preferring to stay in the city.

You approached him slowly, careful not to make a sound as your steps pressed against the ground. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

What was this boy doing out here? Had he spent the night outside?

A few strands of his golden hair rested over his face. You crouched beside him, observing his features more closely.

His face was injured. A cut stretched across the bridge of his nose, holding traces of dried blood. Unlike the pale scars on his lips, which seemed to have been there far longer than you would have liked to imagine.

His cheeks and nose were dusted with beautiful freckles—tiny brown stars that told their own story, contrasting with the wounds on his face. You wondered what kind of life someone like him must have lived. He had an angelic, harmless aura, yet the marks on his skin painted a different picture. It was as if life had tested his strength, leaving scars as reminders of every battle.

You hesitated before letting your trembling fingers lightly trace the edge of his wound, carefully wiping away the dried blood. A soft whimper escaped his lips, followed by a barely audible murmur. You weren’t sure if he was awake or if his body was simply reacting to the touch.

"Shh, it’s okay" you whispered as gently as possible, hoping to keep him in his slumber. It must have been a rough night for the golden boy. You carefully brushed aside the strands of hair that had fallen over his face, making sure that if a breeze passed through, it wouldn’t tickle him awake.

Deciding to leave him alone for a little while, you stood up with a plan—to return to your cabin, grab a first aid kit, and maybe bring some food for when he woke up.

Once you were far enough from where he lay, you quickened your pace. You didn’t care if your boots made noise against the dry grass patches, a result of the lack of rain in the area. You just wanted to hurry back before he disappeared.

You rushed into your small, cozy home as if a gust of wind had pushed you forward. Without hesitation, you ran straight to the bathroom, grabbing bandages, hydrogen peroxide, and some cotton pads.

Gathering everything in your hands, you placed the items in a small wicker basket—the same one you usually used for collecting wild berries to make homemade jam.

As you rummaged through your fridge and pantry for food, the only thing you could find was a box of chocolate chip cookies. With a shrug, you grabbed it and added it to the basket. You just hoped he wasn’t allergic to chocolate.

With the basket in hand, you rushed out of your house like a storm, stumbling over your own feet on the way back. When you finally reached the fountain, you saw the blonde boy awake, his fingers delicately playing with the water, moving his hand back and forth in a soothing motion.

You approached quietly, and the moment he caught sight of you, he stopped, lifting his head. His hazel eyes locked onto you.

His expression was one of surprise—his eyes slightly wider than usual, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to find him here. But you had.

You circled the fountain carefully, taking slow, measured steps. Each of your movements made him shift back ever so slightly, but his gaze never wavered. It was as if he was trying to read your intentions. His wet, trembling hands rested on the edge of the fountain, and though his posture seemed defensive, there was something in his eyes—a mix of curiosity and vulnerability. He didn’t trust you, but he also didn’t seem willing to run away.

Stopping a few steps away from him, you spoke softly, breaking the silence with a voice so quiet it nearly got lost in the morning breeze.

"I just want to help."

The boy furrowed his brows slightly. His lips parted as if to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he tilted his head, studying you with caution, like a wary animal deciding whether the stranger before it was a threat or a refuge.

"I brought cookies" you added, kneeling on the grass as you placed the basket beside you. Carefully, you pulled out the box of cookies and held it up for him to see.

"I really hope you’re not allergic to chocolate" you joked, letting out a small laugh as you glanced up at him.

Something in his eyes shifted at the mention of food. You extended the box toward him, and his gaze flickered between you and the package a few times before he cautiously reached out to take it with his scratched-up hands.

His grip was delicate, almost hesitant, as if afraid the box might vanish if he held it too tightly. For a moment, he simply stared at it, his fingers tracing the edges of the cardboard while his lips pressed into a tight line.

"You don’t have to eat them if you don’t want to. I promise there’s nothing weird in them" you assured him gently, sensing that the silence between you was growing heavy.

Finally, he lifted his gaze, hazel eyes now shining with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

It was the first time you heard his voice—a deep, raspy sound, as if even forming those words had taken more effort than it should have.

"Because I think you need help" you answered honestly. "And I’m not leaving until you’re okay."

He blinked, clearly taken aback by your words. After a moment, he let out a small sigh and opened the box. The crinkle of the plastic wrapping broke the silence, and for the first time, a faint, almost imperceptible smile crossed his lips.

He took a cookie and bit into it, closing his eyes briefly as he chewed, like the taste had unlocked a distant memory. You didn’t say anything, letting him enjoy the moment.

When he finished, he looked at you again. This time, there was a different kind of brightness in his eyes—not quite happiness, but as if someone had sprinkled tiny specks of glitter into them.

"Thank you" he murmured, his voice carrying a newfound confidence.

"You’re welcome" you replied with a small smile. "What’s your name?"

"Felix" he said, offering a closed-lip smile that made his face radiate warmth. He no longer looked afraid. It was as if you had broken past his barriers and earned his trust.

"You know, I actually love chocolate. I bake brownies all the time back home! I’ll bring you some next time!" he exclaimed, popping another cookie into his mouth, crumbs falling onto his clothes, hands, and the corners of his lips.

What was with this guy? Just a moment ago, he had been so cautious, and now he was yapping excitedly. Not that you minded, but it was… unexpected.

"You do know your nose is injured, right?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t seem even remotely concerned about the wound on his face.

Felix let out a soft laugh, lowering his gaze to the water as his fingers absentmindedly brushed over the scabs on his hand.

"It’s nothing. I’ve had worse" he muttered, as if trying to downplay it.

"Worse?" you questioned, frowning.

He gave a small, lopsided smile. "Let’s just say I’m a little clumsy sometimes."

You weren’t convinced, but you didn’t push further. Instead, you lifted the first aid kit from your basket.

"I can treat your wound if you let me."

"Maybe some other time" he said, looking at you with a mix of gratitude and something else—something you couldn’t quite place.

Some other time? Did that mean he planned on getting hurt again? Or did it mean… he planned on seeing you again?

The next few minutes passed in a lighter conversation. Félix avoided your more direct questions about his wounds, but he didn’t seem annoyed—just reserved. Finally, he stood up to say goodbye with a slight bow, giving you one last warm smile before disappearing into the depths of the forest.

Days passed without any news or visits from the golden boy. Your days went on as usual—you kept gathering fruits to make jam and selling them in town. However, you also started spending more time near the fountain, hoping to see the boy again.

As time went by, nothing seemed out of the ordinary until one afternoon, as you stepped out of your house for a morning walk, you found a white rabbit on the path right in front of your door.

Its shiny black eyes, like two marbles, were fixed on you. Its little nose twitched constantly as if trying to catch your scent. With fur as white as snow, it stood out even more against the landscape. It was strange to find a rabbit like this in broad daylight, so close to a human dwelling.

You crouched down slowly, trying not to scare it. “Hey, little one... What are you doing here?”

But before you could touch it, the rabbit jumped back and darted away down the path. You watched it disappear into the bushes and trees.

What you didn’t know was that, hidden among the trees a few meters away, Félix was watching the scene with a triumphant smile. He had sent the rabbit—one of his most loyal friends—to find your home. His plan had worked. Now he knew where you lived, where to find you, and he had the perfect excuse to see you again.

A few days after your encounter with the small rabbit, while you were watering the plants in your front garden, a familiar shadow appeared on the path.

When you turned around, you saw Félix approaching with a more relaxed smile than the last time you had seen him. His wounds were completely healed, without a single scar, as if they had disappeared by magic.

"Hey! I hope it's not weird that I just showed up like this... I thought we could spend some time together. What do you think? I brought brownies."

There was something in his tone—a mix of nervousness and genuine excitement—that made you smile without hesitation.

"Of course! I would never say no to brownies."

It was strange that, after not seeing him for a while, he suddenly appeared at your doorstep, but the truth was that you were really happy to see him. So, at that moment, nothing else mattered, and you welcomed him into your cozy home.

Upon entering, the dark, polished wooden walls, full of irregular grain patterns, wrapped you both in a peaceful atmosphere. A faint scent of pine lingered in the air, blending with the smell of—

In the center of the main room, a rough stone fireplace dominated the space, with a handwoven rug in front of it, worn by time but still vibrant in color.

A pair of fabric-covered armchairs, a sofa adorned with cushions of various designs, and a low wooden table bearing marks of use completed the setting.

Bookshelves packed with books and small ornaments filled one of the walls, while another housed small windows with white linen curtains that let in the daylight. The windows provided views of the forest, making it feel as though the cabin and nature were one.

The kitchen, barely separated from the rest of the room by a rustic wooden counter, had open shelves filled with glass jars of spices and a few boxes of cookies—the same ones you had given Félix that day. A teapot rested on an old stove, ready to brew some tea or coffee.

The conversation with Félix was lively and warm. He seemed much more open to talking about himself this time. Though he was quite the talker, he was also an excellent listener. Every time you answered one of his questions, he paid close attention, resting his elbow on the table and his chin on his hand, his large eyes fixed on you.

He sat on one of the barstools while you moved around the kitchen, making cinnamon and honey tea for him and lemon tea for yourself. As the water boiled and Félix talked about the different types of birds that lived in the forest, you turned your back to him and placed some cookies and the brownies he had brought on a small porcelain plate with a delicate floral design along the edges.

Félix, leaning against the counter, seemed lost in thought for a moment, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the napkin you had left on the table, folding it into an origami figure.

"Do you like cooking?" he suddenly asked, interrupting his previous rambling, his voice soft but curious as he looked at you with genuine interest.

"I do, but I’m not very good at it" you answered with a light smile, turning toward him as you set the plate down in front of him. "But I think food always tastes better when it's shared, don’t you think?"

Félix let out a small laugh, his face lighting up with a warm expression.

"You're right. The truth is, I don’t get to share meals like this very often. At home, it’s just me" he confessed, carefully picking up one of the cookies.

You brought over the cups of hot tea and sat down beside him.

"Do you live far from here?" you asked, taking one of his brownies. In the town, most people knew each other, and you were certain he wasn’t from there—you had never seen him before that day at the fountain.

"Kinda" he replied with his mouth full, enjoying the taste of vanilla and chocolate chips just as he had that first time at the fountain. A satisfied expression spread across his face.

"Kinda?" you repeated, holding the brownie near your mouth.

"Kinda" Félix repeated, taking a moment to chew his cookie before continuing. "I live in a place that doesn't appear on maps."

His words immediately caught your attention, but he didn’t seem to notice, as his gaze remained fixed on his steaming cup of tea.

"It’s... hard to describe" he added, with a smile that seemed to hide secrets. "It’s surrounded by forests, with trees so tall they look like they’re touching the sky. The city is built on their trunks and connected by wooden hanging bridges."

You frowned slightly, trying to place that location in your mind. None of the nearby villages were that remote, nor did they have anything like the floating city he described.

"That doesn’t sound like anywhere around here" you commented, intrigued.

"That’s because it isn’t" Félix replied, looking up to meet your gaze. His eyes seemed to shimmer with something more than simple excitement—there was a spark in them you couldn’t quite explain.

"It’s a special place, almost like it’s hidden from the rest of the world. It’s peaceful… like this cabin. I’d love to take you there someday."

Curiosity started to grow inside you, but Félix skillfully changed the subject, making you suspect he didn’t want to elaborate any further.

"But you must know this town better than anyone, right? Tell me more about it" he said, flashing you a bright smile.

The afternoon passed with laughter and friendly conversations. The topic of where he lived never came up again, but you learned many things about him—how he loved baking, especially brownies, how his favorite color was blue, how much he adored animals, and how he sometimes felt like he had a special connection with them.

You laughed at how serious he was when he said that.

"I’m being serious! Don’t laugh at me!" he said, pretending to be offended, playfully nudging your shoulder. His tone only made you laugh even more, and your laughter became contagious.

"I’ll show you!" he declared, standing up suddenly and heading toward your front door.

"Félix! What are you doing?! Come back here!" you called, running after him.

You grabbed onto his black leather vest to stop him from getting too far. He turned and looked at your grip, making you think you had made him uncomfortable, so you slowly let go. But then, he took your hand in his and laced your fingers together, pulling you along beside him.

The warmth of his hand, its surprising softness—there were no rough scars like the ones you had seen days ago by the fountain—sent a shiver up your spine.

Your face heated up at the unexpected act of your… new friend? He continued walking deeper into the forest, pulling you along since you were momentarily entranced, staring at your intertwined hands.

At a specific moment, he suddenly stopped, causing you to collide with his back due to the abrupt halt. Snapping out of your daze, he let go of your hand, and you took in the scene around you. You were now in a deep part of the forest, where only the scarce light of the afternoon illuminated your surroundings. The trees formed a natural dome, allowing only thin golden rays to dance between the leaves. The sound of birds began to fade, giving way to the murmuring wind. The air carried a faint scent of damp earth and wildflowers.

"What are we doing here, Felix? Let’s go back to my house, it's getting dark" you told the blond boy while glancing around. Though you often roamed the forest, you couldn’t recognize this place, and that made you nervous. The fear of getting lost and never being found again constantly lingered in your mind.

"It's okay, just watch" his voice came out as a low murmur, as if he were trying to make as little noise as possible. But why? Was there some kind of danger here?

Suddenly, Felix crouched down, placing one of his bare knees on the ground covered in dry leaves. It would probably get dirty and scratched by the small twigs, but he didn’t seem to care.

He remained like that for a few moments, his eyes closed as if he were resting or reconnecting with the nature around him. Then, a faint rustling sound echoed through the trees, putting you on alert. You instinctively looked in the direction of the noise, trying to hide behind Felix’s crouched figure as much as possible.

The sound came again, but softer this time. You held your breath, cautiously watching the bushes, waiting for something to emerge from the dense foliage. And then you saw it. Instead of a threat, what appeared was a small creature with white fur, except for the light brown markings that outlined its ears and surrounded its eyes. The rabbit moved calmly, its tiny nose twitching rapidly as if trying to catch Felix’s scent.

It approached without fear, moving nimbly until it was just a few feet away from him. Felix slowly opened his eyes and lowered his gaze to the small creature, observing it intently. He stretched out his ring-adorned hand in its direction.

That tiny ball of white fur looked just like—if not the same as—the one that had visited your house a few days ago, right before Felix's sudden appearance. Could it really be just a coincidence… or was it something more?

You expected the animal to retreat, to jump back like any wild creature would upon sensing a human's presence. But it didn’t.

The rabbit tilted its head slightly, and after a brief hesitation, stepped forward with complete trust. Its small pink nose brushed against Felix’s fingers before rubbing its head against them. Then, without a hint of fear, it settled right within his reach, allowing him to pet it.

Your eyes widened at the strange sight.

Felix gently ran his hand over the rabbit’s back. His fingers sank into its soft fur, and instead of pulling away, the creature seemed to enjoy it, half-closing its eyes in contentment.

"How…?" you murmured, unable to help yourself, your gaze shifting between Felix and the rabbit.

Felix let out a low chuckle, turning to look at you with serene eyes.

"I told you, didn’t I? I’ve always felt a special connection with animals" he said softly while continuing to stroke the furry creature.

It was true. You remembered him mentioning it before, but you had taken it as a simple joke. It was one thing for someone to say they liked animals or that they weren’t afraid of them, but this… it was as if they truly understood each other. As if the rabbit knew exactly who Felix was and accepted him without hesitation.

It was strange. Incredibly strange.

"Come, get closer" Felix said cheerfully, extending his other hand toward you, inviting you to kneel beside him. Uncertainty showed on your face, but you took his hand anyway, allowing him to gently pull you down until both of your knees rested on the ground beside him.

"She's a friend. You can trust her" Felix spoke this time to the little rabbit, now petting the fur around its neck. To your absolute astonishment, the rabbit seemed to understand Felix’s words perfectly. It turned its little head in your direction, its large dark eyes locking onto yours, as if analyzing you.

Felix, still stroking the animal, glanced at you out of the corner of his eye with a gentle smile.

"Try it. I’ll guide your hand slowly, okay?" he encouraged you. You nodded, knowing that with Felix’s guidance, the chances of startling the animal were much lower.

His fingers were warm and steady. With care, he led your hand toward the small creature, placing it right over his own.

"Like this… slowly" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper near your ear. A shiver ran down your spine—not from fear, but from the strange sensation of Felix’s closeness and the mysterious aura surrounding you both.

Under his guidance, your fingers brushed against the rabbit’s soft fur. The creature didn’t flinch. Instead, it tilted its head slightly toward your touch, allowing you to pet it.

This wasn’t normal. None of it was.

"Felix… why do animals trust you so much?" you whispered, shifting your gaze from the defenseless animal to your companion’s face—only to realize his face was much closer than you had expected.

He didn’t answer right away. His fingers still covered yours, guiding them in gentle strokes over the rabbit’s fur, but you noticed a slight tremor in his grip. Then, with a mysterious glint in his eyes, he gave you a small smile.

"Maybe… it’s because they truly understand me," Felix confessed, lifting his gaze from the animal and locking eyes with yours.

He was hiding something from you. That much was clear now. He had a supernatural connection with animals, but you couldn’t quite grasp how or why.

"One day, I’ll explain everything to you in detail. I promise. I just… need some time" Felix admitted, reading the doubt in your expression. His words wrapped both of you in an aura of secrets.

After that situation with the animal, Felix bid it farewell, and the rabbit hopped away cheerfully, returning to the place where it had appeared. Felix guided you back to your house without any trouble, as if he knew the forest like the back of his hand. The sky had already darkened, illuminated only by the moon and its companions, the stars. So, you decided to invite Felix to stay for dinner and, if necessary, to sleep over, since, as he had mentioned, his home was quite far from where you were.

Felix, more than happy, accepted your invitation and insisted multiple times on cooking dinner. It seemed he had no intention of stopping until you agreed, which you did reluctantly, since he was the guest, and it wasn’t supposed to be his responsibility to cook. Upon hearing your acceptance, he smiled broadly, nodded, and quickly made his way to the kitchen.

While pulling out pots and ingredients from your cabinets, he told you he would prepare a special dish from his village called "Lightleaf Stew" a simple stew but with a special ingredient from his homeland.

"And how do you plan on getting that ingredient if we’re not in your homeland?" you asked incredulously, your voice carrying as you watched him move back and forth across your kitchen from your spot on the sofa.

"I have it right here" Felix turned towards you, and from the pocket of his vest, he pulled out two leaves. Their shape and size were like bay leaves, but what stood out were their incredible blue color. There was no place on Earth where a tree with leaves of such a vibrant color existed.

"What is that, Felix? It could be poisonous! Look at the color of that!" you said with a tone of concern and intrigue. You had never seen anything like it, and it didn’t seem at all edible.

You got up from your seat and walked over to him, standing beside him in front of your oven, trying to take the leaves from his hands to inspect them more closely.

"I promise you, they’re not poisonous" Felix said with a laugh, pulling his hand away from yours so you wouldn’t take the leaves. He quickly dropped them into the pot where he was preparing the stew and covered it.

Saying the stew was delicious was an understatement—it was the best food you’d had in years. The flavors dissolved in your mouth, creating an addictive explosion of taste. The herb Felix had added gave the stew an exquisite smoky flavor that highlighted its full potential. You could say those flavors almost transported you to a time long past.

After dinner, during which you exchanged a few words and Felix seemed very happy that you enjoyed his cooking, you decided to wash the dishes by hand while Felix settled on the living room sofa, where he would spend the night.

As the water ran, you couldn’t help but glance at Felix out of the corner of your eye. He had settled into the sofa with a relaxed expression, his eyes scanning the room, observing every detail.

"You don’t have to do that" he suddenly commented, his usual tone, soft but filled with contained energy.

"Wash the dishes?" you asked, not stopping to rinse one of the utensils.

"Yeah. It’s not fair that you’re doing everything" Felix tilted his head back, resting it on the back of the sofa, and closed his eyes in the process.

"You cooked, the least I can do is this" you said with a small laugh, refocusing on your task.

Felix tilted his head and smiled, but didn’t insist further on the matter.

Silence settled between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. When you finished and turned toward the living room, walking over to Felix, who had a relaxed expression on his face, enjoying the warm and friendly atmosphere, he spoke.

"I think I feel more comfortable here than I expected" the long-haired blonde admitted, now opening his eyes and turning his head in your direction.

Something in the way he said it, how his gaze softened for a moment before his eyes lit up again with their usual spark, caught your attention. Felix shifted in his seat, stretching his limbs, a tired yawn escaping his lips.

"I’m going to sleep. If you need anything… my room is at the end of the small hall, to the right" you told Felix with a small, friendly smile on your face.

Felix nodded, adjusting himself more comfortably on the sofa.

"I’ll bring you a blanket, it looks like it’s going to rain and get colder" you told Felix, glancing out the small window in the kitchen. The sky had suddenly turned gray, and you could feel the wind hitting the glass.

"Thanks, I appreciate it" Felix responded, now lying down on the sofa, grabbing a cushion and placing it under his head.

Not wanting Felix to get cold, you walked to a storage cabinet. You returned and draped the blanket over his body, covering him completely except for his head.

"Good night, Y/N" he murmured in a sleepy voice, his eyes already closed, ready to rest.

"Good night, Felix" you replied, walking down the hall. However, something inside you told you that tonight, you wouldn’t sleep peacefully.

Your sleep was interrupted by the sound of thunder striking nearby, jolting you awake with your heart racing against your chest. You shifted between your blankets, trying to find a more comfortable position, but it seemed impossible, as if the universe was making it difficult for you to fall back asleep. Then, suddenly, you heard soft, persistent knocks on your wooden door—almost desperate.

You reluctantly left the warmth of your blankets, approaching the door cautiously. Those knocks were unusual, and they even frightened you a little.

With your heart still pounding, you carefully turned the doorknob and opened the door just enough to peek out. On the other side, in the dimly lit hallway, stood Felix. His messy hair indicated he had woken up in a hurry, but it wasn’t what stood out the most.

In his arms, a small rabbit trembled against his chest, completely soaked by the rain. Its white fur was matted and dripping water onto the wooden floor and Felix's arms, but what caught your attention most were its ears and the outline of its eyes, a very light brown. This was undoubtedly the same rabbit from earlier.

Felix looked at you with pleading eyes.

"The little one woke me up, he was scratching at the entrance door" he explained in a quiet voice, trying not to scare the trembling animal any more.

You blinked, stunned—what was a rabbit doing scratching at your door?

"But… How did it get here? Rabbits don’t usually approach human houses like this. They always run away." Never in the time you had lived in this village or this house had a rabbit come anywhere near, let alone scratch your door.

"They don’t have to run away from me" Felix replied, his lips curling slightly as he lowered his gaze to the rabbit, gently stroking its wet head.

You furrowed your brow at him, tearing your gaze from the animal and focusing on Felix. Doubts filled your mind, surely showing on your face.

"What does that mean?" you asked, your words coming out more like a statement than a question. At first, everything had seemed like jokes or coincidences, but this was too much. You didn’t understand, and you didn’t like being stuck in this invisible limbo between total doubt and distrust of a guy who had been nothing but kind from the start.

Felix took a deep breath, as if preparing the right words.

"It means… that I’m not exactly what you think. I… I can really talk to them." Felix admitted, closing his eyes cautiously, almost as if he were waiting for your reaction to be a shout, a slap, or some other violent response. But it wasn’t. You were stunned, not because Felix had no proof, but because it seemed completely absurd and impossible.

How could he—how could anyone—speak to animals?

"I can’t believe you, Felix. No matter how much I want to, this seems absurd. How could you, how could anyone…" Your endless stammering was cut off by the words that left Felix’s mouth.

"I’m a fairy." Those words came from the guy holding the rabbit. Silence filled the hallway.

You stared at him, waiting for him to laugh or tell you it was all a joke. But he didn’t. Instead, he held your gaze with complete seriousness.

"A fairy of animals" he continued, explaining further. "They feel me. My essence, my scent… That’s why this little one came here. He found me because he knew I could give him shelter."

The rabbit, as if to confirm his words, rubbed its nose against Felix’s wet hand and closed its eyes in satisfaction.

Your mind was racing, trying to find a rational explanation. But nothing made sense. The guy you had met on an ordinary day by the fountain was now confessing his biggest secret, trusting you completely just to help this small animal.

If he truly was a fairy, it made so much sense, considering you’d never met anyone with such a pure heart as his.

"I… this is a lot to process, even to believe" were the only words that escaped your mouth. Your gaze moved from Felix to the rabbit as the gears in your mind worked, searching for any other logical explanation.

"I know, I’m sorry. If it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll leave as soon as the sun rises, but please, let me stay tonight. Let’s take care of him together." Felix’s words came out quickly, his eyes filled with nervousness.

His rushed and urgent words. You looked at him, still processing everything—the confession, the soaked rabbit in his arms, his fearful plea that you wouldn’t reject him.

You knew this was strange. It didn’t make sense. A part of you wanted to question everything. But another part, a more instinctual one, urged you to trust him.

His eyes, bright with anxiety, held onto yours. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind in your chest.

"Stay" you murmured finally, with a small sigh. Felix blinked, as if unsure he had heard you correctly.

"Really?" he asked incredulously, his eyes filling with hope and a golden gleam.

"Really" you confirmed, and although your mind was still full of doubt, your voice was firm. "But you’re going to explain everything to me calmly and in detail in the morning."

"Thank you, We really appreciate it" Relief immediately appeared on his face, and if he didn’t have the rabbit in his arms, you were sure he would have come over to hug you.

You didn’t say anything else. Instead, you turned and walked toward the living room, taking a couple of towels from a cabinet. You handed them to Felix to dry the rabbit, who was still trembling slightly.

He took everything with trembling hands, as if he still couldn’t believe you were letting him stay.

Once he made sure the little animal was comfortable and warm, wrapped in the towels on his arms, Felix collapsed onto the sofa with a long sigh. You sat beside him, your now calmer gaze fixed on the furry animal.

And there, in the living room, with the air still filled with confessed secrets and the soft sound of rain tapping on the windows, you spent the night.

Your fingers moved slowly over the small rabbit’s fur, feeling its calm breathing under your hand. Fatigue slowly began to overtake you, your eyelids growing heavy until, without realizing it, your head rested on Felix’s shoulder.

He didn’t move at all, only letting out a serene sigh as he gently placed his head on top of yours, allowing the calm to envelop you both, and you both fell into a deep sleep.

.ᐟA/N: thank u so much for reading! This took me more time than my other creations becuase I wanted to try and make a longer fanfic so I really hope you like it. Please dont forget to like and reblog (divider not mine!)

I do not accept any copies, remakes, or translations of my work

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