#i really like him with dark hair though i really like the silver too
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HOW TO KILL A VAMPIRE
MASTERLIST | I. YOU | NEXT PART
WC: 1k
It's a dark and stormy night—thunder rolls and lightning strikes throughout the sky as rain pelts against you, leaving your black cloak clinging against your body.
You've been sitting outside in the cold, harsh rain, underneath the canopy of the forest, for what feels like hours now, simply watching—watching the ominous castle that stands tall, probably hundreds of thousands of feet tall, with twisting spires and pointed edges that come out in claw-like shapes—for the vampire that lurks within the sinister structure.
You're not sure exactly who you're looking for, but all you know is that the son of Dracula lives there, as you've heard from the people who live in neighboring cities in Wallachia.
The son of Dracula.
That title alone was enough to make you intrigued, in fact, somewhat fascinated that the son of Dracula was even alive, considering that Dracula went on a mad hunt to kill the entirety of humanity because of his wife's unjust death.
Now, though, you're on a hunt yourself, to slay the son of the vampire that slaughtered the sons and daughters of Wallachia.
The hunt, so far, has been long. You've tracked him down in this castle to this very spot. You've heard he doesn't leave his castle often but—
There.
You see ahead, leaving the castle in a big, black, billowing cloak, is a tall man with blonde hair that reaches just past his shoulders. You notice he walks quickly with his pace, probably to get out of the rain, as he makes way towards his horse.
You narrow your eyes and you take a deep breath as you watch your target.
Slowly, you reach back into your quiver, and you gently pull out a silver-tipped arrow with one hand while your other hand reaches for your bow. You grab the bow, your hand, touching wood as you grip it, and you pull it towards you, slowly. You then bring the bow up, and with your other hand, you line the arrow up, pulling it taught against the string, and you pull it back, hearing the familiar stretch of the bow, you line it up with the vampire.
Your arrow follows the vampire as he still walks towards his horse, but then, suddenly, he stills.
You swallow thickly, wondering why the vampire had stopped moving.
Had he heard me? You wonder, but you shake your head. No, impossible. The rain is far too loud for him to hear me.
You pull the arrow tighter.
You feel your palms begin to sweat as your eyes narrow even further.
Then, with a quick flick of your hand, you let the arrow go.
The arrow soars through the air, moving through the rain with ease. You watch closely, until finally it...
...Misses?!
The vampire vanishes from sight, and you quickly rise to your feet, slinging your bow across your back. You scan the area with a panicked intensity, whipping your head around in all directions, yet the vampire remains nowhere to be found.
Shit, shit, shit!
Quickly, after gathering your things, you begin to run out of the forest, and into the clearing, racing towards the castle, hoping to draw the vampire out.
You draw your silver sword, and you grip it firmly in both hands, praying to whatever god is out there that the sword won't slip from your hands.
"I know you're out there! Come fight me!" You shout into the distance, but the sound of the storm drowns out your call.
Suddenly, in response to your cry, a long, silver sword hurtles through the air, sailing towards you. In an instant, you brace yourself, parrying the sword with your own.
The sword fights back, attacking once again, swinging at you with brilliant power, and each time you block in a frenzy, feeling almost clumsy with each swing, as your swordsmanship skills aren't really up to par, but with a bit of luck, somehow you're able to manage to block every oncoming swing.
Your eyes follow the silver sword, and with furrowed brows, you pay attention to how the sword moves, bringing your arm inwards as your continue to parry the swords movements, listening to the clanging metal.
The sword fight intensifies, the clash of steel echoes. While your focus remains solely on your opponent, what you don't notice is the slow, ominous figure silently approaching from the woods. The figure's black cloak billows in the wind, fluttering as the unseen presence takes measured, deliberate strides towards you, until finally it reaches you, just beyond the silver sword.
"You're clumsy," the cloaked man finally speaks, lowly, while you try to do your best while fighting off the sword in front of you.
"Yeah? No shit," you retort as you continue to parry the sword in front of you.
"Your foot movements don't—"
As if speaking it into existence, you find yourself tripping over your own feet and crashing to the ground beneath. You land hard, the wet, mucky grass providing little cushion from the impact, your body making a loud thud on the ground, which quickly erects the sword, with the blade at your throat.
With heavy, panting breaths, you swallow thickly as your eyes dart to the tip of the sword, to the man before you who stares at you with golden eyes.
"My bow skills are better."
"Oh? Is that why you missed me, earlier?"
You huff and you look away, ashamed that you missed him in the first place.
"You know, I should kill you where you sit," the vampire says, sternly, which makes you look back up at him.
You see him frowning with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.
"Why have you come here to kill me?"
You scoff, continuing to look up at the vampire. You make a face of disgust.
"Because, you're a vampire, son of Dracula. I've come to avenge the people of Wallachia; the whole of humanity. I'm here to finish off the Tepes bloodline, once and for all."
#🌑 postings#🌑 my fics#💫 castlevania#castlevania x you#castlevania x reader#castlevania smut#castlevania fanfiction#castlevania#castlevania fluff#castlevania angst#alucard fluff#alucard x you#alucard x reader#alucard smut#alucard angst
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#park jisung#nct dream#nct dream jisung#nct jisung#yes this side chick is going to be main chick for a few seconds#this is from a year ago for his Y magazine photoshoot#i always wanted to gif it but you know....life and ateez happens#i really like him with dark hair though i really like the silver too#park jisung gif#maxsixgif#nct dream gif#tall angel space nerd baby#these are just gifs for me lol bc i'm sure nobody who is a stan of his actually follows me
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You didn't really check the time, but it must've been past midnight when you entered Jason's place for the first time this week, quietly closing the door behind you and tossing your keys back into your bag, which you placed on the hanger by the entrance.
Your steps were lazy and spaced out as you walked around the apartment, looking for him in the dark ─ turning the lights on would be too much of a splurge, so you simply settled for an almost blind search.
Approaching the bathroom, you heard the faint sound of water splashing, the noise recognizable as you'd heard that a thousand times, almost in the same situation.
"You always choose such ungodly hours for bathing." You said, walking into the small room in silent steps.
Jason was laying peacefully in the bathtub, his head resting against the wall beside him as he had his eyes closed, probably enjoying the comfort of the scented candles lit around the tub. You could smell the vanilla from the wax mixed with the scent of the peach bathbomb you gave him some time ago.
"I think this is the best hour for it." He murmured, not bothering to raise his voice. You liked seeing him relaxed like that.
You sat down at the edge of the tub, taking in his soft appearance. He looked very peaceful, his eyes shut and face relaxed. It was one of the few times you'd seen him with his jaw unclenched.
As you sat, his head immediately leaned closer to your thigh, resting against it like a pillow. Your heart warmed at the sight and at the feeling.
You two had just started dating. Things were still so new to both of you, but they were going well. You liked each other, more than either of you cared to admit, still too scared to pour your hearts out. But moments like these proved that the feeling was deeper than you thought.
Running a gentle hand through his damp hair, you let out a short sigh. "You look so peaceful." you murmured quietly, your voice caressing his ears.
"I am." he replied, leaning into your touch. "Even more now."
You smiled at that. He liked to say sweet things when you least expected him to. Jason wasn't one for sweet talk, but he made an effort for you. To see that pretty smile on your lips, to make you feel loved, to make you feel his love.
"How did tonight go?" You murmured quietly, your fingers still caressing his scalp, almost making him purr like a cat. He loved head scratches.
"Mhm..." he hummed, deciding if he should sugarcoat it or tell you the truth. He chose the truth. "It was... awkward. Like, very, but it wasn't the worst night ever. I'm still getting used to these things."
"You're still getting used to galas?" You smiled, your tone incredulous. "I thought you went to these things all the time."
"I did a few times when I was younger." He said. "But it's harder to adapt now. I mean, inside. Outside, I think I look... not that out of place, but inside, it's messy." He explained to you, his fingers coming up to gently caress your side, making your shirt wet. But neither of you cared.
"I get it." You nodded, offering him a more understanding smile now. "I'm sure you did well, though. You always do."
"Maybe... maybe go with me next time." He murmured almost sheepishly, his eyes opening for the first time. They drank you, your appearance, your messy hair, your sparkly eyes, your pretty, pretty nose. Every part of your face, your clothes, your arms, everything. "I think you'd fit in."
"Me?" you mumbled, your voice cracking a bit, making you wince. Suddenly, you felt a little shy from his gaze and from his proposal. The thought of him wanting you of all people to be his plus one at those fancy events made you feel some kind of warm anxiety, close to a good, excited feeling. "I don't think I would, honestly."
"I can already see it... a beautiful outfit on you, your hair pretty and styled, silver jewelry, the most glorious shoes..." he mumbled. He sounded almost like he was daydreaming. "And, of course, your stunning self to go with all of it."
You laughed at that, a genuine laugh, one of those he seemed to pull out of you anytime he did or said something remotely funny. You were down bad for that man. Shaking your head, you gave his shoulder a gentle pat.
"That sounds like an alternative reality." You said.
"I disagree." he said, looking over at you again. "In fact... wait a minute, I'll get all of that arranged right now for next month."
You stared at him in confusion, your eyebrows knitting together as he started getting up from the tube, and then your eyes widened.
"Jason-"
He got out of the bathtub, water splashing all over the edges and dripping down to the floor, as well as on you, your shirt and pants getting even damper.
You laughed again at his desperation, and at the fact that he didn't even bother to cover himself with a towel. He walked out of the bathroom in his full naked glory, droplets of water sliding down his chest as he padded over to the room, mumbling something about having to get on the phone right now.
You couldn't have chosen better.
✦
a.n: i feel like this is so stupid... also, i didn't proof read, I'm sorry!
#jason todd#dc comics#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#red hood#jason todd fluff#fluff#dc fluff#red hood fluff
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WINNING KISS - LN4
summary : lando isn’t used to being a human mirror, but when a pretty girls tells him to hunch down and let her fix her lipstick in the reflection of his glasses, he’s more than happy to oblige.
listen up : no warnings!!
word count : 750
⋆。‧˚⋆
I can practically feel the music through my veins. The lights of the club are flashing and my friends are laughing and swinging shots back.
I won today. Singapore has been fucking amazing honestly. Besides the whole drowning in sweat thing.
“So…” Max Fewtrell claps a hand on my shoulder, “Taking a girl home tonight, winner?” He teases me as I roll my eyes and sip my drink, “What- You too tired?” he fakes a frown. I didn’t really want to go out tonight but decided it’s sort of a one in a lifetime thing.
“Go find your girlfriend, idiot.” I eye him.
He throws up his arms and laughs, “Gladly!” As he walks away I feel a hand on my shoulder, spinning me around. I’m surprised who did it had such force for being so small.
A girl stands in front of me, a pencil in hand and for a second I think she’s going to ask for an autograph, “Bend down a bit!” She tugs on my shirt and I do as I'm told because I'm genuinely so confused and the pretty girl means business.
She takes the sunglasses from my head and pushes them over my eyes, looking directly into them and bringing the pencil to her lips.
The ‘pencil’, I now realize, it’s a makeup product and deposits a dark color to her lips as she uses me as her mirror.
As she’s stood in front of me, my eyes can’t help but analyze her. This club is stuffy and smoky but she’s so close I can see everything she has on.
She’s got messy brown hair, silver jewelry, a mini skirt, a fur jacket, and a white corset top. Something about her feels magnetic. She’s stunning.
My eyes go to her lips which she smacks together before pulling out a proper lipstick, as she runs the makeup over her lips I start to smile a bit. She finishes quickly and doesn’t pauses as she starts to place the makeup back in her back.
I slide the glasses down to hang around my neck, I see the recognition appear on her face, “Shit.” She says confidently, “You’re that guy!”
I laugh a bit, standing up straighter and looking down at her, “Nice to meet you too.”
“Sorry! Everyone’s been talking about you today!” My tongue runs over my teeth, smiling a bit, “Thanks for being my mirror. And- congrats, I guess?”
“Thank you. And no problem, I’d never deprive a pretty girl of her lipstick rights.” This makes her laugh and fuck I want to keep her laughing.
She gets a look in her eye, her arms behind her, and her eyes staring up at me, “Well I appreciate it. Like it?” I look at her lips again and I’m beginning to think this is a trick just to make me want to kiss her.
“I do. It suits you.” Her lips pull into a wide smile and she steps a bit closer. “You know- people are talking about me for a reason.” I say, building myself up a bit.
She squints, “Right… A win?” I nod, “You’re celebrating then?”
I nod again, “A bit boring though… if only there was a girl to make my night better.”
She scoffs, “Suppose you want a winning kiss then?” I eye her, sipping my drink once more. My eyes flick to her lips but she doesn’t stop looking at me.
“I mean- your lipstick would look great on me.” I say smugly as she stops herself from smiling, humming and nodding.
“Would it?” She says into my ear, the club getting louder with the music.
“Suppose we’ll have to check and see.” I say in her ear this time and when I pull back, I can tell she’s trying to figure me out.
She hums again, leaning in close and slipping her hand onto my neck. Her cool rings practically sting my hot skin. She turns my head slightly, I feel her stand taller to softly kiss my cheek.
When she pulls away, I’m smirking again, “Let me get your number.” I don’t even ask it as a question.
She pulls the lipliner out of her bag once more, uncapping it with her teeth and taking my arm. She scrolls the numbers slowly against my arm, holding me close.
When she’s done and there’s red numbers up my arm, she closes the product and smiles kindly, saying “Congratulations, winner.” before walking away.
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#f1 imagine#lando x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#lando imagine#f1 fic#lando norris win fanfic
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you’re writing for carmy now omg i’m frothing at the mouth 😭 i love the trope where reader is quiet in bed and needs to be coaxed a bit but… i feel like it would be kind of hot if reader was the one coaxing carmy? 👀 no worries if you’re not feeling this one!
ty for requesting! — you teach the bear how to use his voice in the bedroom (new relationship, inexperienced!carmy, experienced!reader-ish, smut 18+)
bug's summer fic fest (ꈍᴗꈍ)
Carmy never notices when he’s quiet. His head is always so loud in comparison — it’s easy to forget he isn’t saying anything out loud when his mind’s constantly racing. He doesn’t mean anything by it, though. He’s just chronically observant. And painfully silent with it.
He lays on his back, pressed between unmade sheets and your warm body. The covers bunch at your bare hips as you roll in languid thrusts over his lap. A satiny summer breeze smooths over your burning skin from a cracked-open window. Every time the curtains billow, more of the moonlight peeks in. It drips in silver shades over your naked skin and your pretty face, now twisted in a look of undeniable pleasure — brows scrunched, eyes closed, mouth wide open.
Carmy’s tattooed hands rest impatiently on your hips. His fingers dig into the plush of them as he rocks you back and forth over his cock. You make pretty noises for him every time your clit brushes his coarse thatch of pubic hair, so he angles his hips just right to make sure you keep hitting that spot.
“Carmy,” you moan in a whimsical sigh that makes his chest swell. “Just like that. ’S so good like that. Please don’t stop—”
His face, made of dark shadows and sharpened edges, is pinched in a look of acute concentration. A distant feeling of deja veux swims in his stomach. It makes him wonder if he’s seen this in a painting before. One of those Renaissance types. The kinds that are harrowingly realistic and always heart-wrenchingly beautiful in a way.
It makes him want to draw you. Just as you are now. Head tossed back, mouth gently agape, lashes fluttering over glowing cheeks. He wouldn’t be able to do any of it justice, but he tries to memorize the soft lines of your face, anyway.
Your hips slow to a stop. Reality hits him hard.
“Woah, woah— Hey,” Carmy mumbles in protest, brows pinched in confusion when he comes down from the clouds. Through labored breaths that make his sweaty chest rise and fall, he wonders, “What happened? Why’d you stop?”
His icy blue eyes dart over your face, searching for any sign of harm. In true Carmen Berzatto fashion, he immediately thinks he’s done something wrong — that he got too far in his own head and hurt you in some way without realizing. The anxiety is fleeting, but he feels the pinch of it anyway — right where your palm rests flat on his chest, just over his pounding heart.
“Are you okay?” you ask him, similarly panicked. Your bare chest sparkles with a thin layer of sweat and catches the moonlight with every uneven inhale.
Carmy nods rapidly, chestnut curls brushing the pillow. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m— I’m great. Why?”
You exhale a small sigh of relief, growing sheepish under his unwavering gaze. You feel a bit silly for stopping now. “You just aren’t… You aren’t really, you know… saying anything,” you answer shyly.
“Am I supposed to be saying something?”
You giggle quietly to yourself until you realize he’s being genuine. Your smile ebbs as you stammer, “Well, no, it’s just— Some people usually moan, I guess— When they feel good.”
Carmy nods firmly in reassurance. “I feel good.”
“Okay…” you nod back, slower and more unsure.
“I promise,” he tells you, tattooed hands squeezing your sides. He shifts nervously on the mattress, similarly victimized by your adoring stare. “I just… I just like watchin’ you, I guess…”
A shy smile quirks the edges of your mouth as you peer down at the boy beneath you. “You’re sweet, bear,” you coo in a honeyed murmur.
“You’re sweeter,” Carmy insists. You think you see the faintest hint of a grin on his lips, but it’s hard to tell in the low light. “Wanna taste?” he teases a second later.
Wordlessly, you bend down for another kiss, far too chaste for his liking. He almost says something about it until you roll your hips again. The words of protest disappear when he inhales sharply through his teeth.
“Does that feel good?” you ask him.
He nods silently, squeezing your sides in a feeble attempt to move you faster on top of him.
“Tell me.”
“Feels good,” Carmy obeys through gritted teeth.
The subtle assurance makes you moan — a pretty, breathy thing that spills accidentally from your opened mouth. All he can think about is getting you to make that sound again.
“Do you like it when I talk to you?” he wonders aloud, very innocuously curious.
You nod, brows furrowed as you grind over his lap. The bed frame squeaks quietly when you roll your hips forward. When you roll them back again, he can hear the faint sounds of your wet pussy — the quiet schlick-ing of his cock fucking into you. The two noises play one after the other in rhythmic tandem. The sinful sounds of sex.
Carmy racks his head for something to say in the not-so-silent meanwhile. You watch him get lost in his mind and cup his cheeks between gentle palms. “Don’t think so hard about it, bear,” you say with a wavering smile. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay.”
You duck down to kiss him again. The angle shifts. Carmy bends his knees and fucks up into you, mercilessly and without warning. Your mouth hangs open in another weak moan that fans across his chin.
“That good?” he pants.
“Yes,” you whine. “Carmy— fuck— You’re so deep…”
Babbles spill from your mouth in thinkless slurs. They tumble from your swollen lips with an admirable effortlessness, which Carmy has never thought himself to possess. He tries, anyway, to talk to you with such sinful ease.
“You’re huggin’ me so tight,” he mutters through a clenched jaw. The very first thought to come to mind as the velvet confines of your cunt pulsate around him, squelching quietly in time with his thrusts. “Can feel you throbbin’ around me, babe— Shit— It’s like a fuckin’ heartbeat.”
Your whine fills the quiet bedroom, adding to the symphony of bed squeaking and skin slapping.
Carmy shifts his hips upward. The new angle allows his cock to reach a spongy depth inside you and pins your swollen clit against his happy trail, which now glimmers with a layer of your honey.
“Right there?” he pants.
You nod wordlessly until the words catch up to you. The tip of your nose brushes the bridge of his. “Yes,” you whimper.
His brutal thrusts pick up pace a second later, never wavering in their wicked pursuit. “Let me hit that spot,” Carmy mumbles to himself like a man crazed. “Let me hit that spot, let me hit that spot.”
Pleasure swells within you, overwhelmingly so. It’s a warm and sparkling feeling in the pit of your stomach — a tightening coil, a fraying rope, a dam about to burst. The intensity of your inevitable orgasm frightens you.
“Carmy…” you whimper.
“I know,” he nods sympathetically, right before he plants his feet on the mattress. He strengthens his thrusts, which have slowly started to lose their rhythm. “It’s okay. C’mon. Cum for me— I can feel you fuckin’ drippin’ on me, baby— C’mon.”
Your jaw clenches to fight back the scream clawing at your throat. It comes out in a pitiful whimper instead when you tense over his lap. Your orgasm washes over you in waves that leave you shaking, thighs trembling on either side of his hips.
Carmy goes accidentally silent once more as he watches you, swelling with pride as you reach the height of your pleasure. His light eyes flit over your features in a feeble attempt to memorize them — the furrow between your brows, the wrinkles beside your shut eyes, the spit-slicked sheen to your kissed lips.
You’re painting brought to life. A heavenly thing he can’t believe he gets to touch with unworthy hands.
“That’s it…” Carmy murmurs lowly. The words bubble in his throat and fall from his mouth mindlessly. He doesn’t even have to think about them now. It just feels right to praise you like this. “That’s it. There you go. So pretty… Always so pretty for me.”
As your body racks with aftershocks, you seek refuge in his arms. Your weight rests entirely upon him as your tense limbs slowly relax, but Carmy doesn’t mind. He just wraps his tattooed arms around you and holds your trembling body closer.
“I got you,” he promises through labored breaths, chapped lips brushing your temple with every word. “I got you. ’S okay. You did so good for me, baby. Thank you.”
You don’t have the words to tell him that you should be the one thanking him.
#published by bug#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto smut#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto#the bear#the bear fanfiction#the bear x reader#carmy drabble#carmy berzatto fanfiction#carmy berzatto fic#carmy x you#the bear drabble#the bear imagine
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Dark!House of The Dragon Men x Reader
You tried to balance your relationship with the greens and blacks despite being Rhaenyra's daughter.
And it worked.
With Aegon II Targaryen
Both of you are close in age, as you are older then Jace.
Aegon found himself falling for you, due to many factors, not only because you are beautiful.
You are kind, intelligent, and most importantly YOU LISTEN to him.
Both of you spend too much time together with or without your mothers knowledge.
The only time he stood up to his mother is when she spoke about you in a horrid manner, calling you a bastard.
"If you dare speak about her like that ever again, I will go and inform father!"
He later on becomes your betrothed by Viserys' order to unite the house.
With Aemond Targaryen
You never mocked him like his brother and your siblings.
In fact, you became his friend and shared his interest in reading books.
The only one in house Targaryen that he felt connected to is you.
Sometimes you would sneak into his chamber in the middle of the night though the hidden passages to just chat.
So, it's hard for your Targaryen uncle not to fall for you, he even looked past your legitimacy.
You literally stood by his side when Luke took his eye and comforted him.
But hearing your engagement to his older brother made his blood boil, and he took an oath to steal you away.
Especially after claiming Vhagar, he realized he now has the ability to burn down anyone who he finds as a threat to his affection towards you.
"Don't worry, I will protect you, dear niece"
With Jacearys Velaryon
He respects and loves you dearly, you are his role model.
That is why he started to bully Aemond when he saw you pay attention to the silver haired Targaryen more than him.
When puberty hit him, he began to slowly develop feelings for you.
And what increased those feelings is that he heard his mother mention something about marrying you to him.
But all his dreams came crashing down when Viserys' announced that you would wed Aegon.
And when you actually did marry Aegon, and after years where Viserys' held a feast, Jace tried to convince you to return to Dragonstone with him.
The night he got in a fight with Aegon he let out all his fury, even if he promised to behave.
"Annual your marriage to him and marry me instead"
With Ser Criston Cole (Platonic)
He is your biological father.
And he knows that, so unlike his bad treatment towards your mother and siblings, he treated you kindly.
At the age of ten he revealed to you that he is your real father.
At first you didn't believe him, but as you grew older you did begin to realize the truth.
Instead of avoiding him, you decided to be friendly and call him 'father' when you both are alone.
One time, one of the servants accidentally spilled soup on you.
The next day that servant was found dead.
"I'm your father before being the Queen's sworn sword"
With Gwayne Hightower
He flirted with you before your wedding not realizing that you are his nephew's bride.
Gwayne hates Rhaenyra, but the thought of you being her daughter left him in disbelief.
You are nothing like your mother.
Everything about you scream honor, virtue and kindness.
Gwayne even tried to convince you to runaway before it's too late.
"You still have time to not marry Aegon"
Indeed, it's awful to say that about his nephew.
But he cares about your well-being more than Aegon's happiness.
And it really shows during the war.
#tw: toxic relationships#yandere house of the dragon#possessive#daughter reader#romantic yandere#aegon ii targaryen x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#gwayne hightower x reader#reader insert#house of the dragon
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In the Dark
pairing: Aemond x Targaryen!reader [Rhaenyra & Daemon's daughter]
summary: one night, while coming back from the Street of Silk, Aemond runs into an all too familiar figure in the dark. request from @brideofcthulhu10
tags: married reader, targaryen incest, tw: knives, tw: mentions of potential SA
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The Street of Silk was never quiet, but they were usually a bit more subdued this time of night. Aemond had planned for it this way.
Leaving the comfort of the palace to find comfort somewhere else, the prince always snuck out under the cover of darkness and returned just the same. No one the wiser. No one able to catch him and mock that he would be out here with whores instead of in bed with his wife. No one able to know what he was really doing here….
The prince adjusted his cloak to pull around him to make his way back to the secret tunnels of the castle. He rounded the corner and paused as he caught a glimpse of another figure in the streets. Not unusual, but not the usual sort either. Aemond’s good eye scanned the potential witness and noticed that their cloak was made of much finer material than any other in Flea Bottom. Too nice for peasants, though it clearly made efforts to seem plain.
Aemond growled through his teeth as he realized who it was. Even with the cloak, those whisps of silver hair that snuck out of the hood are a dead giveaway. Although Aemond had already memorized the gait. “What are you doing out here?” He hissed at his wife as he appeared behind her like a shadow.
You spun around fast. Wide eyed in startled fear, which quickly faded when you realized it was him. An odd feeling for Aemond, as it was usually the other way round when people realized it was him. “Don’t scare me like that!”
“What are you doing out here?” He repeated, still hissing, but more from the whispering now. “What are you doing outside the castle, alone, at night, without an escort?!” His blood boiled with each new remark to his list. Aemond thought his wife clever for a time, but he would have to rethink that in this lunacy.
You glared at him. “I do not need an escort.” You insisted. “And what are you doing out here? Last you told me; you would be with Ser Cristion for the night.”
The apple of his throat bobbed, but Aemond refused to admit he gulped at the accusations of his wife. True, they were both at fault here. Sneaking out unbeknownst to their people and partner. The only difference was that Aemond’s transgression did not come with the inherited danger a young lady, alone, in the middle of the night had. Your life was not your own now, and Aemond was angry that you were being so careless with it.
“That is immaterial. You do need an escort. What if I had been a stranger in the dark?”
“I can handle myself, Aemond.” You continued to insist. Why did the Gods have to give him such an infuriating woman as a wife? “I’m not the soft petal that other women in the palace are. I’m a Targaryen.”
True, you were not as soft as the other ladies. Rhaenyra may bare bastards left & right, and Daemon may be an opportunistic lech, but they had done right by their daughter. Teaching you to not only be an adequate lady of court, but also a skilled rider, both of dragon & horse, and how to defend yourself. Targaryens were never short of enemies. It was best to be prepared. But their Targaryen jewel had not been trained in the same way Aemond had. More how to hold a knife and properly thrust when the moment came, but not actually overcome a group of attackers if swarmed.
“Targaryen’s bleed just as much as anyone, ābrazȳrys.” Aemond told her. Stepping close. You predictably take a step back away from his ire. “We are not immortal like our beasts. What would you have done if I had been another man? Two men? Twenty?”
Your back eventually hit a walk. Locked on with Aemond’s eye as you felt a swell of fear in your belly at his words. “I…I would run away.”
Aemond cruelly laughed at your answer. “You would outrun twenty men? You’re fast, byka ābrazȳrys,” he remembers the races they had when they were children, before he sprouted to his current height, “but not fast enough to outrun twenty.” He then used that impressive height of his to quell around you. His arm coming up to place his hand against the wall. Blocking one exit. “What would you do if I had been a stranger in the dark?”
There was a tense moment between you. You felt trapped. You have to force your body to stay still and not tremble. “Stop it Aemond.” You hiss as you try to push him away. He’d made his point. Perhaps this was a bad idea. But you would never admit it.
“Who's Aemond?" Your eyes flickered up to him as Aemond’s voice sounded different. Void of the subtle hints of affection he had for you, and stone cold. A blade was suddenly out from by his pocket and by your throat. “I'm just a faceless, masked man in the dark.”
Your back went straight against the wall as you tried to create as much space as possible between you, Aemond, and the knife. “S-Stop it…”
“Make me.” Was his reply. “You’re a strong, capable Targareyn, aren’t you? Make me stop.”
You realize you can’t. You’re too afraid. This was indeed Aemond, your husband who loved you, but your mind kept thinking on what if this wasn’t Aemond. What if this had been a strange man in the dark? What is this wasn’t a test but truly real? An enemy of your mother? An enemy of Aemond? Or just a man like so many in the city who pulled women into dark alleys and forced them to their needs? What if this had been real?
Aemond saw the fear welling up inside you as tears came to your eyes in panic. He put the knife away and leaned in to give you a kiss. His build softening around you as the point had been made and the ‘game’ was over. You cling to Aemond in relief. Like a life raft out to sea. Overcome with emotions you kiss your husband desperately in a manner unbecoming of commoners in an alley, much less royalty.
Aemond kissed you back with equal fervor. Never missing an opportunity to kiss you. Relief also washed over him as well, thinking on the what-ifs if he had not run into you and another man did. What could have happened to you. The prince growled possessively at the thought and ran his hands over your body to claim it from these imaginary brigands. You moaned against his lips. Breasts heaving as you pant against him while his knee slid up between your legs as he bucked against you. “Let us go home issa jorrāelagon.”
You nodded fervently. You just wanted to go home now. Be with your husband. Be in the palace walls. Be safe.
The prince released you and the two of you walked back through the cobblestone streets for the tunnels. “Why are you out here anyway, issa jorrāelagon?” He realized you had never answered him.
“Father told me once of a spot past the Iron Gate that, if you look out at it at sunrise, you can see Valyria.” Aemond resisted the urge to roll his eye. What a ridiculous story. Valryia was leagues away. He’d barely come close to it on Vhagar; though in truth he would never fly near the place after what happened to Princess Aerea. “I know it’s silly, but I wanted to see it.”
“Why now?” He asked. You had lived in King’s Landing on & off for most of your life. Had you wish to see ‘The Valyrian Sun’ (yes, he knew what she was talking about) you could have done so at any time before. Why now, alone, when such danger was about for them?
“In times of trouble, I look to the Old Gods more, like your mother looks to the Seven.” Daemon’s influence, no doubt. Or perhaps it was just her own. Aemond parroted the phrases and did the prayers when asked by his mother, but he would not truly say he was bound to one set or the other. “I thought it might bring me some clarity on things. Some answers.”
“Answers on what?” You don’t answer, which made Aemond suspicious, but he doesn’t pry further. “Why didn’t you just ask me to come with you?”
“I thought you wouldn’t go if I told you it was something my father taught me.”
He frowned. Did you really think him that petty of the man that he wouldn’t go just because Daemon Targaryen taught of it first. “Come. This way.”
You do not have time to react as Aemond took your hand and pulled you down a different alley. “Where are we going?”
“The proper way.” He told you. “You were headed for the Dragon’s Gate. Yet another reason why you need an escort.” You frown at Aemond’s slight but follow after him.
The two of you meet the ‘Valyrian Sun’ together. There is no cast of Old Valyrian in the sun beams, nor any of the answers you seek. But when you turn to look at Aemond amongst the sunrise, you feel some kind of peace. Some kind of answers. “Let’s go home.”
#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#;pen & paper (fanfiction)#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#book!aemond#prince aemond#house of the dragon#hotd#aemond x reader#house targaryen#hotd imagine#hotd fanfiction#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x reader#house of the dragon imagine#game of thrones#game of thrones scenarios#got imagine#got scenarios#imagine#scenarios#hotd smut#house of the dragon smut#female reader
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a touch of salt, a taste of flesh
synopsis: in which toji cannot decide whether or not he wants to eat or love the pretty little human he saved from drowning. w.c: 2k.
pairing: merman!toji fushiguro x f!reader.
warnings: mature themes! mentions of gore and blood, mentions of drowning, open ending. sfw but MDNI!
a/n: if you saw me post this yesterday no you didn’t. please don’t let the fic flop this time lol. heavily inspired by this delicious art!
divider / ao3
the ocean loved to keep her secrets.
she coveted every single one of them, for each was a precious pearl of knowledge about her soul. to know even a single one was to be doomed to a life of fear, to be at the mercy of her passing whims, because you could never tell when she would decide to punish you for it and bash you into pieces.
she didn’t think she knew anything at all about the ocean.
but here she was, coughing up salty secrets trapped deep within her lungs.
again.
while a pair of green eyes watched her.
they were always watching her.
“why do you continue to tempt the sea?” he purred, a slight smirk touching his lips. “little human”
little human.
because that is what she was, and what he most certainly wasn't.
it was in the way he smiled at her – cold and dark and cruel as the smothering sea that had tried snuff her out, curling around her throat like tendrils of seaweed.
a dark, shark-like tail rose from the sea as the creature tilted his head, wet strands of his black hair dripping to the side. he winced every time she coughed some more, as if it were far too loud for his liking, and looked down at her like she was a grain of sand stuck between his scales.
she probably was nothing.
especially not to something like him.
“do you really need to know what it’s like when death creeps up on you?” he continued, dismissively waving a clawed, scaly hand at her. “i could always just tell you how it feels.”
she sucked in a shaky, pathetic heaving breath of sea air into her chest, still gasping and sputtering onto the white-washed sand. the coarse grains scratched her palms painfully, and she tried to calm herself, breathing in and out with the rise and fall of the tide.
his eyes narrowed playfully, thin slits of green in the night. “there, there. you’ll be just fine.”
she didn’t feel like she would be.
there was nothing comforting about him at all.
he was a predator.
his teeth were just that little bit longer than they should be – sharper, pearlescent, and flashing dangerously in the silver moonlight. even though this was the third time he has saved her from succumbing to the depths of the sea, she still didn’t know why he had saved her, or why he still continued to.
but it had to be for something.
or else, he wouldn’t have saved her the first time. he would have let her fingers disappear beneath the waves forever, let her sink to the bottom of the darkest ocean. he wouldn’t keep on watching her from the shoreline, circling round and round the island like a shark drawing ever closer to its prey.
waiting to strike, ready to bite.
“why?” was all she could muster in a hoarse voice, sand tickling her throat.
“why?” he repeated, that saccharine smirk playing on his lips again. “why what, little human?”
“why do you keep on singing?”
the green slits widened a fraction, and he started to laugh. her heart hammered against her chest, and she was afraid she might have said the wrong thing.
“is that what you would call it?” he asked incredulously, a sprinkle of offense creeping into his voice. “singing?”
she gulped.
what else would she call it?
that was what it sounded like to her. she would sit beneath a gnarled tree at the cliffs’ edge, where the earth dipped sharply towards the sea, its rocky face curled over the sea like an old man’s wrinkly hand. there, she would listen, trying to make sense of the strange words wafting from his tongue in the salty breeze.
she would’ve started a war for him.
would have shoved her arms into the bodies of the bent and broken, rummage through all their bones to offer him their still-warm, unbeating hearts.
but there was something in his haunting baritone that made her want to cry, to surrender to the sea, naively believing she could somehow help save him from his own restlessness. to block out the echoing memories that, in that moment, were blurred together and she wasn’t sure if they belonged to him or her.
there had to be some kind of magic involved.
because tonight was the third time she had heard his haunting song.
and the third time she had mindlessly wandered into the arms of the ocean and her false welcome, full of promises she had no intention of keeping.
despite knowing full well that she couldn’t even swim.
his laughter died with the wind, a low, lilting hum lingering at the edge of his words. “maybe you shouldn’t be listening so closely,” he murmured, his eyes heavy with something that looked like hunger. “the sea doesn’t sing for humans.”
he drifted a touch closer to where she was lying, slicing through the shallow water like a blade. she sat up straight, digging her heels into the sand to scramble away from him.
“and yet, here you are,” he said, amusement curling his lips. “again.”
she licked the salt from the cracks in her lips, stuttering, “i-i don’t k-know why.”
maybe it was her obvious helplessness, or perhaps he could smell her hopeless desperation like rotting flesh, but his eyes softened.
“it’s the call for my…” he trailed off, smacking his lips as he searched for the word. “heart.”
he said the it disdainfully, like he didn’t really want to believe he had a heart at all. she couldn’t imagine that he had one either, or that it wanted for anything beyond his most base desires.
flesh and blood.
“your heart?” she repeated in disbelief.
he glowered at her, his tail flicking through the water in annoyance. “yes,” he said, adding much more quietly. “and it seems i’ve found it.”
run away, now.
“w-what?” she sputtered, salt-coated sand flying to the back of her throat.
the creature grinned widely, mischievous fangs glinting, “oh, you know, little human.”
she did know; she just didn’t want to admit it.
“i-i never– i don’t understand.”
“no? then why do you keep trying to swim to me?”
she didn’t know what to say to that.
it was silent for a long time, the sweeping sea moving backwards and forwards like the ebb of time between them. she could see more of him too, even though she knew better than to look.
and he was beautiful.
his tail was longer than she thought, silky smooth and gray like a shark’s was, marred with pink scars and rakes as deep and painful as the ocean. it curled high above his head as he lay belly down in the sand.
oh, but his eyes.
they were a chest of shimmering emeralds, locked onto her every minuscule movement. but his pupils were infinite, a black hole of mysteries and knowledge of ancients city that had come and gone, of seas of blood and red misery.
yet, he was here, on this unremarkable beach at the edge of the world, calling for his heart – for her.
and she’d somehow answered.
“what’s your name?” she blurted out.
there was a strange rumble in his chest before he replied with, “toji.”
toji.
it reminded her of the cold kiss of winter, the inevitable conquest of snow over the trees and blooms, covering everything in its white death. he belonged to the ice-covered seas of the north and south, definitely not from places where the sun and joy pierced through the waves.
there was no doubt that toji was king of those icy seas, reigning supreme over the darkness found within the kelp forests of the deep trenches.
“how old are you?”
toji tilted his head curiously, completely silent as he pondered and searched for an answer.
“how long have humans sailed the seas?”
how very lonely.
she knew she shouldn’t feel anything for toji, least of all feel sorry for him. but here she was, itching for him to take her hand and drag her into the depths he called home. maybe that was what his song meant; perhaps all he wanted was someone to share in ruling over the ice and sea.
how ironic that she couldn’t even swim.
he drummed his sharp fingers against a closed fist, slow and irritatingly suspenseful. “you’re bleeding, you know?”
she frowned and looked down at both sides of her palms, between her pruned fingers, and then further down.
oh.
there was a small stream of blood beneath her left foot, trailing toward the sea before being swept away with the tide.
straight towards toji.
that was when she saw the dangerous twitch dancing on his scarred lip, and she realized just how long he had been holding back for.
“i’m sorry,” she whispered breathlessly, and she truly meant it.
toji’s eyes narrowed again, but there was a spark of anger in them this time. “don’t apologize,” he hissed. “never– not for that.”
for that, for bleeding.
would a shark thank her for covering up a wound?
she didn’t think so.
toji asked for her name, and she offered it freely, willingly. he repeated it loudly, the deep baritone of his voice starting to sing her name in an increasingly agitated-sounding tone.
mine, mine, mine.
her name wasn’t her own anymore.
he was looking at her now, like he wanted to slice open her chest, pull out her heart, and play with the strings that made it beat. to shove his fingers into her aorta to say that he had been really inside her – his – heart.
mine, mine, mine.
and then, his cold hand was gripping her ankle, claws lightly digging into her skin.
she let out a yelp as toji dragged her toward him, the sea rushing over her cheeks and into her ears. he was on top of her, the wetness of the sea bleeding into her, his weight heavy and suffocating, pushing every bit of air out of her fragile lungs. his fingers dug deep into her thighs, just about to pierce through the plush skin.
she beat against the hardness of his chest, “t- cough! toji, please, stop.”
but he wasn’t really there, caught somewhere between the whispering blood ocean and the misty memories haunting his soul.
a pearly tear slipped down his cheek.
“i ca-ah! can’t breath.”
the same deep sound rumbled from his chest, and toji lifted himself up from her ever so slightly. she sucked in great gasping breaths, her eyes teary and blurry as she looked at him through lashes laden with salt.
another milky tear fell from his left eye and dripped down onto the curve of her cheek.
“would you slip away?” toji whispered, his voice rolling over her like the tide, but he sounded far, far away. “into the sea, for me.”
she didn’t want to.
but then he started to hum low and sweet, his wet lips pressed to her neck, and she was ready to.
she could see through the mist and blood now, far above the clouds and the sky and the sun breaking through the horizon. her heart was burning with salt and secrets – secrets she didn’t know she possessed.
until now.
that she was one with the sea, and maybe always had been. so, she didn’t mind all that toji was slowly pulling her towards the depths instead of away from them.
a flash of brilliant green lit up the sky.
was it toji’s eyes or a farewell from the sorrowful sun?
she didn’t know; she didn’t care anymore.
she was his to keep now.
ི♡࿐
©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.
#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x y/n#toji x you#toji x reader#jjk toji#toji zenin#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji#toji fic#jjk oneshot#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen au#jjk au#jjk fanfic
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get off the floor, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: You order Jeon Jungkook to get off the floor. He says, "Make me." You make him. Eventually.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; tipsy, bratty (needy) JK; wedding guests reader and JK hooking up in a random corner room bc they can no longer contain themselves, gasp; semi-public smut (fem dom!reader + sub!JK, JK becomes half-undressed while reader is still fully dressed, slight degrading talk (not really), heavy making out, dry humping) basically, I was staring at this photo and had thoughts
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“Get off the floor.”
“Make me.”
Once again. No stranger to this supreme annoyance, and yet knowing that did not make it bearable. You looked down at him. Was he drunk? He stared off to the side. Looked moodier than anything. Trying to play it cool, perhaps. You caught him glancing and you stepped back, smoothing the high slit of your deep purple evening gown.
“That suit costs way too much to be on the ground,” you attempted again, his black blazer over your bare shoulders.
Jeon Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you.
“Don’t care.”
You could feel your patience running thin. Not new, just like all of Jungkook’s antics. You felt his eyes travel up from your legs to your waist to your chest. When he got to your face, you gave him an unimpressed frown. If he hadn’t been drinking, he would have the good sense to look away. But he had, so he just ticked his head as if he wasn’t laying down in the middle of a random offshoot room in a very nice hotel. There was no one around. Time of night and because this wing had been rented for the wedding that was still going on in the main ballroom.
“You’re going to get in trouble,” you warned.
His dark eyes caught the low lights of the art deco sconces on the walls.
“Get on top of me.”
This was precisely why you had considered skipping this wedding. But, alas, common sense pulled through. You had not come with a plus one because you didn’t have one. Jungkook had not arrived with a plus one either even though you were quite sure he could have secured one. He was probably thinking the same of you as well. The look on his face when you strode in and greeted the couple was enough to encourage some of the guests to mysteriously begin herding you and him in close proximity. You couldn’t blame them. Playing matchmaker was bound to happen if a woman attended such a social event alone.
You just didn’t think the lucky man would be Jeon Jungkook.
You narrowed your eyes. His eyes lowered to half-moons. His lips parting. The two silver rings gleamed on the right edge of his lower lip.
“Don’t play this game.”
The tip of his pink tongue flitted against his lip rings.
“I’ve been wanting to play your game for a while now,” Jungkook breathed, his low voice vibrating in his chest.
You could still hear the bass of the music. One step. The heel of your pumps clicked loudly against the tile floor. His black three-piece suit had been perfectly tailored to him. There was no need for additional shape because his body lines were already ideal. His black hair had been carefully slicked back. Nothing to hide behind. Another step. His black vest and crisp white shirt were tight enough to his chest that you could witness the way his breath hitch lifted his upper torso. You looked down, then pointedly back up at his face, reminding him that his tight slacks made everything obvious.
He bit the side of his lip.
With a casual lift of your slinky skirt, you stepped over him, and then re-draped the dark violet fabric over his lower torso. One foot on each side of his hips. He must have expected you to refuse, as you already had many times before. He immediately froze, his startled eyes widening. In your defense, he had previously been more subtle and annoying about it rather than direct. You reached up, maintaining eye contact with Jungkook, and twisted your wrist, hooking two fingers on the collar of his blazer around your shoulders, pulling it away from your body to reveal skin.
You dropped it on the floor, away from your bodies.
The fitted gown had a soft sweetheart neckline with thin straps that framed your collarbones. A simple white gold chain necklace with a tiny round-cut diamond nestled at the base of your neck. The straps crossed over to your exposed lower back. The medium-weight fabric was tailored to skim over your curves. Princess seams accentuated your shape from chest to hips before opening up to wispy high slits that were only obvious when you walked or stood with more weight to one side. Demure if you stood straight, which you mostly did. Wasn’t your wedding after all. Your hair was down, smoothed down at the right, covering enough of your back to uphold the illusion of modesty. Unfortunately, as night approached, you had found yourself quite cold. The air conditioning had been turned high to accommodate for all the dancing bodies.
That wasn’t the trajectory of the night for you, though.
Instead of the dance floor, you and Jeon Jungkook were now somehow in deserted offshoot room with chairs on tables. Probably reserved for additional seating just in case any additional guests tried to squeeze in at the last minute. Certainly not reserved for a raunchy rendezvous.
You lifted an eyebrow.
“Scared?” you taunted, looking down at him.
His wrists were against the floor by his shoulders. You saw his fingers twitch, but he did nothing to move further.
“Ravage me already,” Jungkook exhaled. Hot and heavy and hiding desperation. “I can’t take this.”
You had been well-acquainted with him for a while now. You ran the tip of your pointed heel against his side. Jungkook shuddered. He didn’t move to touch you. You backed off. The real problem with all this was not the friendly terms you both had, but rather the fact that he had caught you in a rather dubious place some nights ago. Neither you nor him should have been there. In fact, you made it a point to travel far enough so you wouldn’t run into anyone, which you presumed was also the exact reason Jungkook ended up in the same place.
You squatted down, tilting your head at him in a predatory way.
The skirt of your dress pooled over his abdomen.
As you came close to Jungkook’s level, you heard his breathing shallow.
You took a short moment to collect your dress accordingly before dropping to one knee. And then the other. Straddling him, but not quite touching. Your fingertips touched the ground. He smelled like faint musky spice. You lowered over him, until your hands were just under his upper arms.
Looked down.
Jungkook stared at you from below, trapped in your shadow.
“You really did see me at the BDSM club that night,” you murmured. “Didn’t you?”
You raised your right hand and closed it around his left wrist, pinning it to the ground. He sucked in a tight breath, the gravity of the situation seemingly sinking in although it didn’t seem like he was rushing to stop you.
“Your ass looked so fucking good,” he whispered in the dark. “I knew it was you.”
You bent your left elbow, descending to his face.
“Someone will find us.”
At your reminder, he bit his lower lip in that fuck-me-harder kind of way. Then you felt movement. His right hand snaked between you and him. Your eyes flickered down. His dress shirt was fastened all the way to his neck. He looked sharp. Conventionally handsome. The only things he couldn’t hide was his facial piercings and the tattoos on his hand. Hand tattoos were a big faux pas to most. You liked a rule-breaker though. Unfortunately. Jungkook’s deft fingers traced the pressed collar of his shirt.
You watched him undo the first pearlescent button.
Then the second.
Your lips parted to warn him to stop, but the third was already coming undone and you could hear the desire in his erratic breath drifting upwards. Then it was eyes-to-eyes, devouring you with false innocence, and you opened your mouth to trace your lips with the tip of your tongue, taunting him with the glistening void.
“Fuck…” he whispered, trembling under you.
And then you stopped his hand by fully pressing your body against his chest, your clothed breasts against his naked pecs. Flitted your tongue over his lip rings, tasting his moan before hearing it. He turned his head, trying to chase it, but you feathered kisses over his cheek, gripping his left wrist as you licked his ear, hearing the whine of your name tickling yours.
“P-Please…”
You avoided him that night at that club, hoping he hadn’t recognized you, causing every subsequent interaction making it painfully clear to you that he had indeed seen you strutting your stuff in black latex while teasing strangers with your leather crop. Surprisingly, not in the way of trying to use such information against you, which was what you expected, but rather in the way the tempted drive the tempters insane. In imploring looks that only you could know. In too many chances of being too close in proximity. You don’t know how he did it, but now for some reason everyone was delicately suggesting to you to, perhaps, give him a chance. It only strengthened your want to teach him a lesson. You savored the rising panic in his voice as you bit the curve of his ear and toyed with him with your tongue. His trapped hand turned and you felt his palm mold to your lower ribs, sliding up. You bit down. He gasped, biting back a moan as his fingertips ghosted the curve of your breasts.
“Ah…. D-Don’t…” Whimper so close to his heart that only you could hear it. “My e-ear is… is sensitive, a-ah…”
You smiled, pressing your lips to his earlobe. His earrings were warming from your breath and saliva.
“Is that why you have so many piercings, huh?”
You made sure he could feel your lips move as you purred filthy nothings.
“What a pain slut you are.”
This time he truly moaned, his hips rising, and then abruptly cut himself off to avoid rising volume.
“D-Don’t…”
You sank down. Pressed against him, and even though the layers you could feel his erection throb, his entire body shivering when your weight dispersed over his lower body. His fingertips traced the dip in between your breasts. Your tongue circled over his ear once more before kissing up to his temple, the fingers of your other hand creeping up the side of his neck, and then you made out with Jeon Jungkook, right there on the floor with his groan vibrating the inside of your throat as you slowly thrusted your tongue into his lips. He did his best to suck and you always pulled away at the last second, using one finger to trace the muscle of his neck down to his collarbones.
You broke the kiss.
His lips were glossy and flushed.
“Please… Don’t stop,” he begged, squeezing your breast. “Don’t stop…”
The inaudible music continued to hum in the background.
You placed two fingers on his chin and pushed his head back, giving you access to his throat. For a brief moment, you considered making your mark, but instead you trailed your tongue down, down, painting possessive saliva onto his warm skin. His body rose. You let go of his wrist to pull open the sides of his shirt, realizing he was undoing his vest at the same time as his chest became fully exposed to the air, his dark nipples hard. You flicked your tongue against them, an involuntary ripple seizing his torso at the heated contact. Licked all over, enjoying the scent and taste of his skin. He silenced a cry as you bit down.
“H-Harder…”
You rose slightly, grazing your tongue against his skin before doing so.
“Be quiet.”
And then you roughly pinched his other nipple.
His arm flew up and he screamed behind clenched jaw, his hips lifting from the floor and his erection colliding with the inside of your thigh. You let out a light hum, sliding up his hard thighs. Your dress was already bunching around your waist. With a sweep of your skirt, your barely-there panties came into view. His attentive eyes immediately went down to the matching skin-toned thong barely covering your pussy, tricking him for just a moment, and then you saw the disappointment flutter into a slight frown.
“Did you expect me to be naked?” you mused.
He tried to cover himself with indifference. “No.” His needy gaze and raging boner gave him away.
You smiled.
And held the front of your skirt out of the way, rocking your hips forward to rub your panties against his clothed cock. Jungkook gasped, staring back at your relaxed expression with wide eyes, unsure where to look. You put a little more force into it, increasing the friction and molding his hardness to the soft dip between your legs, and you saw his eyelids flutter, his dark eyes rolling back, a contained moan escaping his chest.
You talked down to him, because you could tell he liked it.
“You thought I wouldn’t have panties and I would just ride you in a public place with no remorse or shame?”
Tension began to show through his muscles. He had one arm on his forehead and the other against the black-and-white tile floor, using subtle leverage to grind against you. He wasn’t obstructing his vision though, still very obviously staring at your thighs, the dip towards your pussy, watching the hem of your panties press into your skin with each movement.
“I… oh, fuck, I don’t k-know…” He panted, his shadowed eyes roaming back to your face. “Maybe.”
You laid your free hand on the waistband of his slacks, tracing his belt. You watched him hold his breath, his chest tight and oh-so-delectable. Slowly, you hooked your fingers under his belt. Gripped it, and changed the angle of your thrusting so that the head of his cock was rubbing against the radiating heat of your pussy, giving him a better view of your thin panties digging into your slit.
You saw his teeth sink into his lower lip.
“F-Fuck…”
His eyes slid shut and he moaned your name, sensual and deep and far too practiced for it to be a closed secret, his hips pushing back up against you, trying to get more and unable to do so. Frustration. Need. Craving. All bleeding into his expression. Against better judgement, you could feel it too, the irresistible pull of barely enough, the desire to tease turning into wetness between your legs, slowly but surely perfuming the air with your sweet, musky arousal.
Jungkook opened his eyes and stared up at you, imploring softly.
“P-Please…”
His arm lifted from his forehead and his other hand raised, fingertips stroking your thighs while using his shoulder blades for leverage. Forceful and precise. You let go of his belt and traced the knuckles of one of his hands, feeling the restrained strength in his touch. He sank his fingers into your thighs, gasping, pressing the back of his head onto the floor and arching his back. His open shirt. His exposed muscular chest. His tan skin faintly glistening with sweat. His throat begging for a bite.
You raked your nails down his abs, forcing Jungkook to lustfully groan to the ceiling.
You smirked.
“Get up.”
With minimal effort, Jungkook lifted his torso off the ground, frowning at you for asking him to be reasonable. His palms pressed into your thighs, ensuring that you continued to straddle him even though you had no intention of moving. In fact, you drew your knees together, pinning him in between your thighs. A few black strands had dislodged from their places and draped over his furrowed brows.
“Was that so difficult?” you murmured with lowered lashes, walking your nails up his chest.
His hands were sliding up towards your hips under your skirt. “Yeah.” He squeezed your ass with his strong grip while staring into your eyes. “I’ve been wanting to get you out of this dress for hours.”
“Hm.”
You gave him an unimpressed look as you felt his fingertips glide down. He pulled outwards ever-so-slightly. From below, out of sight, your pussy lips parted with a wet sucking sound.
Jungkook moaned against your cheek, pressing his naked chest against your clothed breasts.
“Come on… Please…”
You hand had migrated to his side, steadily scratching his lower back.
“Very reckless and dangerous of you.”
He glanced at you with those half-moon eyes filled with stars of longing.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want me to be,” Jungkook whispered hotly. “Brushing up against me by accident when I already told you that you look too damn hot. Teasing me every time I look down by showing off your legs even more.” His mouth brushed against the side of yours. You could faintly feel his lip rings. “You’re mean.”
You sat on top of his still-hard cock and purred, “I don’t recall doing such things,” before lightly bouncing on top of it.
He gasped and you sucked away his exhale, pulling back before he could kiss you.
“Let me,” he breathed out.
His hands came up to cradle your back as you arched your spine and then you sighed out, his soft kisses fanning over your décolletage, tucking his tongue between your breasts and licking upwards, his eyelids fluttering in bliss from the taste of your perfumed skin.
“Please, let me…”
Your arms around his neck. You had not intended to fuck Jeon Jungkook tonight but, then again, that was easy to think when he hadn’t looked at you with those perfectly desperate eyes yet. Nor had he yet pushed the top of your ass down to collide with his hard dick still fighting his pants, implying just how well you would fit together. Until right now that is. You smiled, leaning back into his warmth.
“At least button your shirt so you don’t startle the hotel staff with your sexy body.”
His ears flushed bright red. You shot him an amused look as he fumbled about.
“And what if there was a camera in here, hm? Recording your depravity,” you mused, appreciating the view.
“I don’t mind,” he mumbled to his chest. His ears remained red.
“I see. But if I compliment you, you become embarrassed.”
Jungkook avoided your gaze. “N-No…”
You hooked a finger under his chin and yanked him back up, confronting those big, dark brown orbs. He looked taken aback, almost afraid of what you would say next.
“I can’t wait to have you under me,” you whispered. “I’ll make you show me how talented you are at begging.”
He moaned into your mouth as you kissed him deeply, pulling him into your possessive embrace.
-
continued in get on the floor, m | jjk
--
drabbles masterpost | masterpost
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GLADIATORS
CREGAN I.
MASTERLIST
Summary: You see your father’s latest acquisition in a closer way, a wild man from the North who had become one of his gladiators.
Pairing: Slave!Gladiator!Cregan x Domina!Reader
Warnings: Ancient Rome AU, Cursing, slavery (and everything that comes with it, technically rape, forced labour, punishments), blood, guts, gladiator battles, lude language, nudity, sex and everything related is no biggie here, we’re a ‘sex positive’ Republic, mentions of sex, same sex couples, orgies, and more.
MINORS DNI + 18
Wordcount: 6,7 k
Notes: This reader is young perhaps… like 18? 20? but so is Cregan!
“Dad, he is old!”, you whined. You heard your older brother snicker by your side, as their silly wives snickered like the silly girls they were. You sighed as you popped a grape into your mouth followed closely by a piece of cheese and bread and a sip of wine.
“He’s got money… and he is in the senate!”, he said then, signaling one of the slaves to start lighting up the oil lamps along the Triclinium, the night had fallen over King’s Landing and it was getting dark.
“I bet you could find someone who’s in the senate who’s got a wife he is willing to divorce, and he won’t die of old age before the wedding”, mocked your eldest brother, but soon got quiet as your father looked at him with severity
“Nobody should divorce their wives on my account”, you said, the notion made your stomach turn. Even though divorce was a common thing, if a man desired another, or another union would ensure more privileges, or if his woman was unfaithful or not able to give in heirs to the family, they could divorce. A woman could divorce her husband too if she had her own reasons.
You knew the dowry of your middle brother’s bride was quickly being spent on the training of the gladiators in the Ludus underneath the house, so he needed to come into some money quickly, even though he would have to pay for your dowry.
One of the greatest events of the year was coming quickly, and his Gladiators needed to be in top shape.
“Tomorrow I want you all there, at the games of Senator Tywin”
“Have we’ve been invited to the pulvinus father?”, asked your eldest brother
“Close enough, right by it”, he said, he seemed pleased, but you had learned to read him better, there was something lurking in his eyes that betrayed a darker desire… for more power perhaps.
“I've heard that Larys Strong and therefore Alys Rivers got an invitation this year to the pulvinus, and her gladiators in the primus at sundown”, whispered Martyn
You had two oldest brothers, Alton and Martyn.
“That Ludus stands as such because of that whore Alys Rivers”, mumbled your father
“A woman Lanista?”, you asked, “how could that be?”
“She is not, but she whispers in her half-brother's ear while he aspires to be in higher positions”, explains your father. “While his brother, first born son and heir goes around playing gladiator”
“He is a slave?”, you asked
“He volunteer himself into that life”, murmured Alton, “you had seen him fight sister, Harwin”
“Oh wow!”, you said, not really knowing what to say, but rather, sipping your wine, you did remember seeing the biggest person you had seen upon the arenas of King’s Landing’s Coliseum.
“Anyways, Alys stands as such because she was advised many years by Daemon himself the demon of the arenas”, mumbled Martyn
“Yes, fine Daemon/Demon”, your father would repeatedly, while on his cups, tell the tale of his biggest regret, and that was not purchasing a young Daemon while he was still in training, he grew to be the greatest gladiator at the arena, so much so he won his own freedom at the games of the Vulcanalia some years ago. Daemon, as many other gladiators, came from the shadowlands of Essos, as he sported beautiful white/silver hair and violet eyes.
You would never say this outloud, but the gladiator battles were never a thing of your interest, not really. You did not liked the bloodshed, the gutting, you had no taste for violence, and yet, there was something to admire as you saw those men fighting
They looked like they were carved from the finest artist, they stood like they were gods above the sands. They stood as fierce representations of the god of war himself.
“Well, her reign of depravity will not last long, I heard the Northman shows great promise”, mumbled Martyn’s wife Adella
“What about the Northman?”, Martyn asked then, you raised your head in question. Oh the Northman.
The man had your father in a lockdown, taking most of his time, money and patience. He was ‘caught wild’ in one of the last incursions of the armies of the emperor to the wild tribes of the North, hence his nickname. Purchased by your father at the slave market, and trained for the last months. With the purchase, your father was hoping to impress Tywin Lannister himself, a senator and a very wealthy man, it did not work, so far, as the man planned to visit your father’s villa upon invitation to see the Northman’s training and hopeful subjugation. So far, no luck.
He was caught fighting, he wasn’t a stranger to it, but there was a long way from being a soldier to being a gladiator. From being… whatever he was up there, to obey command from a man that subdued you into slavery.
But again, your father’s temper has closely returned to normal, so, you could only assume the training was becoming fruitful, even so slowly.
“He will never be tamed”, he said curtly, “but… if we keep managing him properly, we can turn that hate of his into the arena, he shows great promise”
“Forgive me father”, you said, raising from your place in the triclinium, “I take my leave to bed”, you said with a soft smile, nodding at everyone present
“Good, I won’t have you all tired tomorrow”, he said approvingly, and you nodded, thinking for which old bat he would have you presentable tomorrow.
He was determined to get you wed before the autumn plantings at the end of the year, and he didn’t seem to care to whom as long as it brought privileges upon his house.
It was hot, so hot, you could barely stand, you were eternally grateful to your personal slave, Anya, who stood by your side, fanning you with a soft paper fan. She leaned into you as you allowed her, to also enjoy the soft waves.
Although, they brought some stench from all the people around you.
King’s Landing, although the capital of the great republic, stood famous for its stench, having grown rapidly and unprepared for it.
The sun cooking the viewers of the spectacle didn’t help either.
The people cheered, bringing a new wave of hodor that made you dizzy and poor Anya almost faint
“Did you see that?”, asked your elder brother to the youngest, as two gladiators fought to the death, one cutting the other’s arm. HIs screams could be heard all the way up where you stood, near the pulvinus.
You rather stare into the sun, which you did. Soon, after midday, it was going to hide behind the wooden beams supporting the canvas on top of the Arena, there you truly were going to enjoy it. being able to relish in the shadow.
“Tywin demanded only the best this city has to offer present themselves in his games”, the comment alone made you turned your gaze upon the Arena, as people cheered again, some even pushed you in their ecstasy, to see the gladiator in shining white armor decapitate the one missing his arm
“And Cole does it again”, said Martyn. The one who had an armor so polished it was blinding was known as Cole, he stood from the Rhoynar in the south, from Dorne itself, plucked from the desert to fight in another kind of arena.
“See her gloat”, demanded Alton, you all looked towards the Lanista herself, Alys Rivers in the pulvinus, with a smug look upon her face, she of course was the one holding the wip that trained the man in the arena.
She was of extraordinary beauty, long lustrous black hair, long to her hips, wearing a deep green stola, beautifully decorated atop a black tunic, you wondered how she did not bake wearing such dark colors.
She was stuck to the side of her rumored half-brother, he was a.. interesting man, thin and a bit twisted, unruly hair but fine clothing adorned his weak frame.
“People of King’s Landing…!”, presented Otto HIghtower from the pulvinus, a small but central box, where the most prominent people attending the games would sit at. He was a Senator, friend to Tywin Lannister and apparently presenter to today’s games. Maybe he was the patron of the entire occasion, your father had been paid by a HIghtower man.
But this… was far from over.
It was odd to see such a gladiator so early in the day, the sundown was reserved for the very best part of the games, the primus, between the two best and more known gladiators.
You found yourself thinking about like four names at the time.
Harwin, Cole, Aemond, and… the Northman.
Although Harwin was disapparating from latest presentations… he still held name, but he had lost his prowess as the last time he found himself in the Arena he asked for mercy as he found himself losing, he raised his hand in the air with both index and middle finger pointing to the skies begging for mercy, and it was granted.
Against Cole himself. He got terribly injured almost a year ago, thereafter only presenting himself in fights long before midday sun.
Yes, everything you knew about gladiators and fights was learnt unwillingly.
But the primus did not belong to your father, so the Northman was fighting early, thankfully. You might have a chance to survive this heat, by retiring back to your father’s villa early.
Although, these occasions were like the market for older unmarried men. And your father would have you giving everything to sell…
“... I give to you, from one of the greatest Ludus of the Republic, a man, from the wild tribes North of the neck…”, your father smiled proudly as the name of the family was spoken loudly for everyone to hear. “trained to wet the sands with the blood of his enemies… I give you… CREGAN!”, people booed at his entrance, as the wild tribes of the North had been villainized by the Republic, as relentless, violent and above all, uncultured and barbaric, but you had learned to read between the lines, they were described as such because they refused to bend the knee.
The gates of the Arena opened on the west side, revealing the men ready for battle. He stood tall and broad despite his young age, his dark brown hair tied back, although hidden by a thick helmet in the shape of a wolf’s head.
He wore nothing protecting his torso, yet a thick metal belt putting together the lower part of a tunic. He wore forearm and shin protectors, and thick leather sandals
He had a huge sword in hand, and a shield on his other.
The sight alone took your breath away.
You had seen him only practicing, briefly, as your father did not approve of you gazing from your balcony down to the men. As they would, “get distracted”, and you didn't enjoy their eyes filled with lust either. So you refrained from doing so, but…
The mere glimpses you had gotten of the men were nothing when putting in comparison to the men upon the sand today.
In all glory, in strength, as a gladiator was the mightiest representation of a man, or that is what your father always said.
This was a rare sighting though, as he had barely been making a name for himself, this time might be the first he presents himself alone. Your father was right, taiming him was proving to be incredibly difficult, but nobody could deny that even if he presented himself a gladiator today under your father’s ludus, he was still as unruly as the first time you laid eyes upon him, as the first time you gaze down upon him, entering through the gates, kicking and screaming, hair longer than you had seen in a men, even longer than he had now.
He fought your father’s guards and even the ones who he would call his brothers this present day.
Tywin himself called for the start of the fight, his opponent was someone of the Ludus of Larys himself, one with lesser note, his name left your ears as soon as you heard it.
But you couldn't care less, as when he started to move upon the sands, the rest of the world could crumble around you and it would not matter in the slightest.
“He stands superior in all aspects”, mumbled one of your brothers and you couldn't tell which as you were so hypnotized.
Cregan attacked first, and that was very frowned upon in the Lanistas, as the first to strike tended to have disadvantage, his opponent met him half way and the clash of gladious responded all over the coliseum.
There were some gladiators that favored other weapons, like the spear and short shield, or the Retiarius, that were gladiators trained with a net and a trident, in a fisherman fashion.
It sounded laughable in paper, but they were quite impressive in the arena, not this time though, both gladiators stood with a gladious, meaning a sword, and a long squared concave shield.
The fight wasn’t lengthy, the superiority of the Northman was clear since the very first movement.
Although it wasn’t less breathtaking, as each of their movements, attacks, the way they moved, and deflected, its like they were dancing, dancing in a mortal rhythm
The crowd cheered for them, and even though they were not on the Northman’s side, suddenly, they shifted as it became clear that he was the better fighter.
Although you did not enjoy the games, there was this moment, this exact moment in which you felt like your heart was in your throat and you could tear your eyes apart from the fight. The moment where you really cared about who won, about who survived. The Northman, even thought it was the
But it was brief, first Cregan drew blood on the arm of his opponent, and then, after a quick movement, the man was dead, dropped in a growing pool of blood on the floor.
The magic was gone, and the crowd erupted in cheers, applauding, screaming his name, although there were those disappointed because of the outcome.
“He will be the champion of our house!”, said Alton, “mark my words!”, he said, as your two brothers hugged each other in happiness. you turned to Anya, who had a soft smile on her face, but kept fanning the both of you
The rest of the fights happened quickly after that, the sun hiding behind the podium of the magistrates and people of importance in the city, which gave you relief as the day turned quickly, the sun moved above the sky until it hid behind the outer walls of the coliseum.
The last fight ended quickly as well, Aemond killing his opponent in an impressive showing of strength and blood.
Your father was called upon another man near the pulvinus, as you tried to stand your ground as people around you were quickly to leave the arena, but you managed to stand your ground, as your siblings found friends of their own to talk to.
Your father came back to you, rubbing his hands amongst each other with a pleased look on his face
“I must attend a meeting in the magistrate’s house”, he said happily, “He spotted me in the crowd and invited me”, you smiled at him
“I’m pleased, father”, you said with a soft smile
“See yourself to the villa, with our guards and slaves, don’t wait up”, he commanded the lot of you.
“We have been invited to the Lannisters”, mumbled Martyn, your father’s eyes again shone with interest. So he nodded towards your brother.
“I trust you’ll be well taken care of”, he said then, turning to you, he then signaled to one of his most trusted guards and even to the Doctore himself, the trainer of the gladiators.
“Yes father”, you nodded at Anya and the both of you exited the arena, followed closely by a guard.
You turned quickly as you heard your name being called by a familiar voice, as you were int he shade of the hallways, as you turned you found yourself with your old friend from your childhood, Alysanne Blackwood
“How long haven’t we gaze upon one another?”, she said, grabbing your forearms as you did hers, she leaned in a made attempt to kiss both your cheeks as it was accustomed
“Too long”, you said with a long sigh
“We shall remedy that immediately!”, she said then, “you didn’t mind telling me your father’s Ludus was the one who owns the Northman himself?”, she tried
“Oh well, much has happened in the last couple of years”, you said shyly, smiling softly at her.
This was hardly the time, all the people were leaving the coliseum, and pushed you who were trying to stand on the sidelines. She looked at you with those deep green eyes of hers, she was so beautiful, lean and tall, with thick black hair fixed beautifully and big green eyes, her smile was contagious.
“Well it's been too long”, she said then, as you failed to meet what she desired, “and I will wait no longer, to get reacquainted with dear friend”, she said, grabbing your hands
“My villa, its mine for the night, as my father meets with important men”, you offered, her smile was as beautiful as the rest of her
“Perfect, Jeyne Frey is also here”, she said, “we’ll go together”.
To say you were nervous was an understatement
The night found you and your friends in the safety of the triclinium in your family’s villa, where the soft wine flowed freely and also the dining.
“And his cock was huge!”, she said, making you gasp
“Alyssane!”, you chided, “don’t say that!”, you said, feeling your cheeks heated
“What? Cock?”, she teased, “Cock! Cock! Cock! COCK!”
“Stop it!”, you slapped her arm playfully
“I see them all the time!”, Jeyne said then, looking sheepishly, hiding her smirk in her cup of wine.
“Only because you like to peek as your brothers have sex with slaves!”, mocked Alyssane
“No I don’t!”, she said, but you knew she was lying.
“I bet that Northman’s cock is huge too”, teased Alyssane, finally revealing her true intentions behind her and Jeyne’s visit to your father’s villa. You got quiet, so did Jeyne, but the expression on her face said it all, she was as intrigued as Alyssane
“I wouldn’t know, even if I saw it”, you said
“You had never seen a man naked?”, asked Alyssane, raising one of her perfect eyebrows
“No”, you said then, well… you sort of had, men, male slaves on sale on the streets, but you had refused to look long enough to draw a complete image in your mind. What you saw in a couple of seconds did not please you at all, rather… you disliked.. something so… small and wobbly. You shaked at the very memory of it.
“You had never seen any of your gladiators in such fashion?”, asked Jeyne, ready to tease and follow Alyssane’s lead.
“No I have not!”, you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Aren’t you at least a bit curious?”, asked Jeyne
“Well, of course I am”, you defended
“You are to be married before the darkest of the winter months, you should at least know what you are up against”, Alyssane said simply, “and I would not deny the sight… of such a man”
“You are here just to gaze upon naked men?”, you said playfully, although, a bitter taste in your mouth, as you were feeling clearly used, and pressured.
“No, I am here to gaze upon naked gladiators”, Jeyne said then.
But another flavor joined the others, the need deep within you impress your friends, your friends from rich houses of the capital
“Bring me the Northman”, you said to the guard that stood in the corner watching the whole reunion, he seemed terribly nervous, but nodded and left you. You shaked with the resolution in your command, and felt a pit in your stomach in anticipation.
You knew he was going to take a while, so you turned back at your friends and smiled nervously, and they seemed terribly motivated.
“I must say”, began Jeyne, as she saw your face filled with trepidation, “that my tongue will not be kept from wagging about your hospitality to my father”, she wanted to make sure you knew there was going to be recompense for this, and good recompense. His father, as old as time, sat in the senate, she stood the daughter of a senator.
“Thank you Jeyne”, you said with a soft smile, you took a long gulp of your cup, to try and soothe your nerves. Alyssane did the same, but with a smirk on her lips, she said nothing as she studied your form.
Finally, they both took sit position in their triclinium as you heard movement behind you. You looked back to see their trainer Roose Bolton, following closely behind the man himself. The wildling from the tribes of the North, whose name was Cregan Stark, although everyone called him… ‘The Northman’
He stood with thick shackles around both wrists. in front of him. He was wearing nothing but a clean subligaria, and his body was like one of a god, well defined and gleamed under the light of the torches, he had recently been cleaned. The sight made your mouth dry, so you took another long sip of the mulsum in your cup. He had thick brown hair that he used tied in the back of his head, and he had sharp eyes, cold as ice and the same colour. The features of his face were soft, declaring his young age, your own, perhaps.
“Leave us”, you demanded, but the trainer Roose Bolton looked conflicted
“Domina, I don’t think…”
“I said leave us”, you said, about to lose your courage, your friends behind you giggled, weirdly giving you confidence to commit to your own command. With a grunt, the doctore nodded and left you, with only your friends, a couple of guards standing silently in the corners of the room behind veils, and him.
The Northman
He was deadly still, looking forwards, beyond you and your friends, beyond this room, his jaw was tense, you could tell that being here, summoned by you like this… for him was humiliating, but there he stood, tense like a bow. He said nothing, he didn’t move an inch.
“Is this what all northmen look like?”, Jeyne teased, “he is more beast than man”, you didn’t know if that was a real question, but your eyes never left his form, even if it wasn’t he didn’t answer.
“You can answer”, you encouraged
“All northmen do not look like me”, he said finally, the dark tone in his voice made the three of you gasp. “some make me look like an Andal”, Jeyne and Alyssane giggled at the prospect of finding even gruffer men than him.
“Oh he speaks the common tongue”, Alyssane was on fire, making you more uncomfortable. His eyes finally found yours, and you couldn’t take your own out of his.
“Yes he does”, you whispered, he indeed had a beautiful set of eyes. You then looked down at his chest, there was a red line, his injury from the battle in the Arena, it was still fresh, but you could tell it was healing properly
“I think he is handsome”, mumbled Alyssane, taking foot to walk towards him, you feared his reaction, as the guard standing in the corner of the room clenched his hand around the pommel of his sword.
But the gladiator still didn't move as Alysanne walked around him, teasing him with a single finger, touching his skin as she walked. His eyes were still on you.
“He stands as Mars, ready for war”, she whispered
“Alyssane seems taken by the man”, teased Jeyne in your ear
It was a curious thing, this what you were feeling, like somebody wanted to take something that belonged to you, but again, he wasn’t a thing, and you didn’t own him. Not technically at least, your father did.
“Their day starts early tomorrow”, you mumbled, making Alysane stop and look back at you with a teasing smile on her face. “his training I mean”, you said then
“Of course”, she said, you signaled the poor shaking guard and he grabbed Cregan, and took him from your side. You could swear you saw lingering eyes from him to you, but you must have imagined it.
“You should… enjoy him while you can”, said Jeyne finally, once you found yourselves alone again
“What do you mean?”, you asked her, her and Alyssane shared complicit looks
“Well, obviously, before you take an old bat as a husband, you should enjoy one of his gladiators, like that Northman for example”
“No…”, you said quickly, “I couldn’t possibly do something like that”
“Why not?”, asked Alyssane
“He is a man trained as a gladiator!”, you said, “he is a bit dirty…”, you tried, not quite convinced
“You have him bathed and oiled before you”, said Alyssane like it was no issue
“What if he doesn't want to?”, you tried then
“He is a slave, under your command…”, said Jeyne, “...and a man”
“What if he decided to kill me instead?”, you said then, “wrap his hands around my neck”
“I will not shame you is that is to your pleasure”, giggled Alyssane
“Aly!”, you whined, “the point is I really couldn’t, I mean, he is big and thick… and wild looking”
“Delicious then”, she offered
“Dangerous…”, you continued, although you felt your cheeks heated.
“Well if you don't have him, maybe I could!”, she teased
“What are you talking about?!”, you asked, scandalized, “when have you heard that proper Andal women lay with their gladiators?”
“Oh I’ve heard a ludus where such things happen quite frequently”, she teased
“Where?”, you asked
“In Alys Rivers’ ludus!”, your eyes opened wide in shock
“Really?”, you asked, “the bastard sister of the Lanista Larys Strong?”, you asked
“They say she offers her gladiators in… other manners”, she said, winking at you, “perhaps we should find ourselves at her door?”, she asked Jeyne
“Perhaps we shall”, she said back.
“Don’t be mean!”, you teased back, she laughed, as she was clearly jesting, you hoped.
“The hour is late”, said Jeyne with a soft smile, “I should start my journey back to my villa before my father starts a search party”, she said, raising from her chair
“Yes! me as well!”, said Alyssane, “I hope I can meet you tomorrow at the market?”, she asked you, you smiled and nodded profusely, as you accompanied them to the atrium, and therefore the door
As you watched them leave, nervousness started to take a hold on you, as did the warmth of the wine consumed to hide your embarrassment
It was not common to find yourself alone in your villa, your father had allowed it because you were in company of friends -who had influential fathers-, but now there you stood, no brothers, or sisters in law, father or friends to loom over you.
Your lower belly burned with necessity, with something you have never felt before, a longing, your body burned with anticipation and excitement. You didn’t know if it was the mulsum you had drank, or the power you just discovered, all the whole thing combined.
“Bring the Northman up here”, you said to the first guard you saw, he nodded and went to comply with your command. Your body was tingly because of the alcohol and you were excited to say the least, you didn’t even care that you had already sent the poor man down mere minutes ago, tonight, you had the power.
You shakily served yourself some more wine, back in the safety of the triclinium, the room where you ate, met with friends and family, where you were most comfortable. The man was standing right in front of you in minutes, the guards nodded at you and then left you as they had done before.
The gladiator stood there, now he seemed more surprised than before, as he found you alone, and he also seemed to be showing more of his emotions on his face.
“Northman”, you called, he turned to you quickly, anger in his eyes
“That’s not my name!”, it took you by surprise, you couldn’t deny it, the anger in his eyes, the sharpness in his tone.
“What is your name?”, it was of no consequence to you, his domina, and you should express so, that it did not matter anymore what his real name was, but, there you were, asking him nonetheless
“My parents named me Cregan”, he said, “of House Stark”, he said sharply, “as many leaders of my house before me”
There was so much more you wanted to ask, as his words truly shocked you, but as you gazed down the street you came to your senses, realizing that you should not allow such things. As your father tended to say, “who were you before this Ludus does not matter, the only thing in your mind should be sand, and the blood of your enemies”
“That is not what you are here for”, you finally find your voice, minimizing his anger at hand, turning his attention somewhere else.
“Remove your subligaria”, you whispered the command as if you did not wish it, and his sharp eyes were trained on you
“Look at you, a little domina in the making”, he teased, his tone much changed since he let you know of his true name. The very words made your cheeks heated, and you found yourself averting his gaze, his did not stray from your face as he released himself from the only item of clothing he was wearing. Your eyes followed the trail of his perfect skin, down his toned chest to his belly and…
The sight alone made you gasp.
This looked nothing like the ones of the male slaves in the market, if anything, those were… flacid and small, that sight brought you disgust and uneasiness, this one however, made your mouth dry and your skin tingle with desire. Desire that was pooling in your lower belly.
“You can touch me”, he said, he was being amused at your expense, only making you even more nervous, “I will not bite… much”, your hand was placed on his belly, muscles showing in beautiful shapes, you couldn't believe something could be hard but soft at the same time.
As your hand lowered, you found thick dark hairs there, making you shudder
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen”, he whispered, so close to your face your hand stopped right before getting to his base and you looked up at him.
“I’m the daughter of your dominus”, you said, as you believed he was forced to praise you.
“Do you think that’s got something to do with what I just said?”, he asked. Your hand stopped right as the base of his cock, you shuddered, his manhood was terribly hot.
You had never spoken to this man before today, you had barely glanced at him, and now, here he stood, under your command, looking at you with his sharp eyes, not missing a thing.
“I’m sorry, this was a bad idea…”, you whined retrieving your hands like his skin burned you. Cregan grunted when your soft hands left his cock, and that only made you burn more heatedly
“And you are going to leave me hanging like this?”, he asked, amused, mocking you, but inside he was suffering, he was enjoying it too much, it has been so long without a woman’s touch, “you can’t do that!”
“My apologies”, you said quickly, leaving him there standing
His doctore came to collect him, he retrieved his cloth from the ground, putting it in place
“A little tease that one”, he mumbled to the serious man
“Do not speak of domina in that way”, he growled as he pushed him
“There is not much domina in her”, he chuckled
“That’s it, five lashes in the courtyard”, he said
“I’d think better of it doctore”, he said defiantly, taking advantage of the fact that only the two of them were present in the narrow passage that separated the villa from the training grounds of the Slaves, “the Vulcanalia is merely a fortnight away from now, and they have high hopes for me”
“Keep walking boy”, Roose Bolton threatened.
He led him downstairs and then through the big gate that separated the villa from the ludus, where the gladiators lived and trained. A guard locked it tight after they passed through it
“I advise you to keep what happened to yourself”, he said gloomly, Cregan looked back at his doctore, but nodded.
He was directed straight to a long open room, where the gladiators ate lunch and dinner. He directed himself to the cook, who gave him a clay pot with a white mush in it, just like the day before, and the night before that.
“Here comes the whore!”, someone shouted at him, as his “brothers” started mocking him and winking at him.
It didn’t take much to guess what happened in the villa, there was only one reason you get called upon at such hours, and wearing so little
“Shut the hell up Ben”, he mumbled to his only friend he had in the Ludus, he haden’t say anything, but he was grinning at him like an idiot.
“Was it her?”, he asked him, “the daughter? the domina?”
“Yes”, he said, his friend pushed him playfully
“Did you fuck her?”, Cregan just looked at him angrily
“No”
“Was she not pleased with you then?”. he asked, frowning
“She is young, she doesn’t know what she wants”, he said simply, really not wanting to share what had happened upstairs.
It was humiliating, to say the least, to be treated like that. To be called upon to be gazed at by women who looked at him like a piece of meat, and then again to be touched.
Oh but he meant every word
You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, since the first time he saw you, standing on that balcony, looking down at him. He did not blame you for your father, for the blood that ran through your veins, for the republic that created you. You had nothing to do with any of it.
Just by looking at you he could tell the kind soul that moved your body and warmed your heart
But you were the daughter of the man who purchased him, he wasn’t the one who enslaved him, but it was the man that had condemned him to the life of a gladiator.
“Well, maybe you can change her mind”, he teased
The only reason he was playing along with the Andals was to see how to escape them, so far, it had been easy to stay alive, he had been trained since he could pick up a sword on how to hunt, how to fight, how to survive, the North was not a place for the weak
“Father?”, you called out loud, the servants all dropped their eyes as you passed them by looking for him, but you couldn’t find him in his study, so you were on your way to his room at the other side of the villa
“What’s this ruckus?”, he asked, looking at you with sharp eyes as he went to encounter you in the atrium
“My good friend Alyssane has summoned me to go to the market at noon”, you knew he wouldn’t refuse you, not if Alyssane was involved, so he just sighed and motioned for you to follow him. You went back to his study, passing all the statues decorating the atrium. A normal Andal family would display in honor effigies of their most prominent family members, but yours displayed the most prominent gladiators and fighters that had come from this ludus.
“Here”, he passed you a small punch filled with gold coins
“Thank you father”, you said, offering a complacent smile
“Take one of my men with you”, he said then, “one of the gladiators”
“I hardly think that’s necessary, a servant and a guard would do just fine”, you said quickly, always as you were in the market you wanted to pass by as inconspicuous as you could.
“I insist, after the games, and before the Vulcanalia, I want the people to see them, to get excited, take the Northman”, you hid your face before your father could see the embarrassment in it.
One of the guards of the villa went to fulfill his request, and you sighed in exasperation.
You came back to your rooms to get ready to go out, and once you were, you returned to the entrance of the house, where Cregan himself was waiting for you with a severe look on his face, this was not to his liking, he was standing right by a guard, and by Roose Bolton.
The sight alone made you tremble
Had he told anybody what happened the day before? that you had touched him and presumed to have him?
Once his eyes found yours, he smirked.
“If something befalls the daughter of your dominus, fate worse than death awaits you boy”, he said in his ear
“Rest assured, that I will look after her with my life”, he said with a silly little smile.
You took a long sigh, and nodded to the guards and started walking out of the villa.
The villa stood on top of a hill, you had a pretty nice view upon the city of King’s Landing, but the rest of it wasn't quite impressive, the road was made of dirt and the houses around it were less impressive than the one your father had inherited from his father. It had been in your family since the very creation of the city.
You led a small comitive, all on foot, as you bluntly refused to be carried in a cot. You, your faithful slave Anya, Cregan himself, being flanked by two guards.
The center of the city started right at the foot of the hill, so it was a short minute walk.
You reach a street made of cobblestone, one adjacent to the one that led to the main street, as it was time before you had to meet Alyssane, you started to look the small stores
“Did your father hear of the way you handled me last night?”, Cregan whispered as Anya was tending elsewhere, you look back sharply at the Northman.
“No, and he shall not!”, you said sharply
“Oh well, I guess if he had, he’d have me castrated”, he whispered for your ears only, “and I guess you don’t want that as it seems you like what you saw”, he teased
“Stop it”, you said back. Your father was a practical man, and if he had heard of what occurred last night, you would be the one at fault, as everyone involved was just following your command. “My father will never know of this”, you sentenced
“You wanted to lay with me? A gladiator? a slave?”, he asked then
“I was mistaken”, you said, trying to gaze upon what a man was cooking on his store towards the street, it smelled delicious
“You are mistaken”, you heard him claim, his thick accent made your thighs, “for seeking bedding before connecting, to seek sex, instead of love, to want lust before you even began to feel the fondness”, he said sincerely.
“Thinking love is something within the grasp of someone in my position is foolish, and I learned not to be blinded and distracted by foolish things”, you whispered sadly. You nodded at the man and exchanged a couple of aerus for a plate of lamb soup. “I’ll be married before the year is over”, you whispered.
#misguidedgladiators#cregan stark#ancient rome au#house of the dragon au#hosue of the dragon#cregan#gladiator!cregan#cregan x reader#cregan x you#cregan x y/n
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The Witch's Surrender
Authors Note: Here is my entry for a fun collab event, Monster Mash, hosted by @nanamiscocksleeve for a spooky szn! I encourage every writer to join in, I had lots of fun writing this ;) This was a great way for me to practice my smut writing...which is definitely a little rusty, lol.
Thanks for hosting this event Ray!
🎃 Happy start to the spooky szn 🎃
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/Witch!reader
Word Count : 2.1k
Warnings : 18+ content, SMUT!, fingering, intercourse, dirty talk
The forest was silent, except for the crackle of cursed energy and dark magic swirling in the air. The moon was full, casting a silver hue over the earth beneath it, setting the tone for that crisp Halloween night.
Gojo stood casually at the edge of the clearing, his white hair tousled by the breeze, a smirk curling on his lips as he eyed you. Power pulsed between you, thick and intoxicating—but the heat in his gaze had nothing to do with the battle.
The two of you had fought before, and it was always a draw.
You enjoyed causing trouble for the jujutsu sorcerers; you liked watching them struggle to keep up. But Satoru Gojo was a different story.
Gojo had been sent on a solo mission to hunt down a powerful witch—you.
Your tight black dress clung tightly to your body, though it was now ripped in a few places due to the battle between you, exposing just the right amount of skin to the cool autumn air. You lifted your wand to point toward the white-haired man, throwing your pointed black hat to the side.
“They really sent me for you? I almost feel bad,” Gojo taunted, voice low, playful. His eyes, impossibly blue, gleamed with something far more dangerous than any amount of cursed energy—desire.
You squared your shoulders, the wand in your hand crackling with magic. “Don’t get cocky, Satoru. You’ll regret it.”
Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer, eyed you with his signature smirk, but you could see the calculating glint behind those cocky blue eyes. “I knew you were strong,” he drawled, casually adjusting his blindfold, “but I didn’t think you’d give me this much trouble.”
Magic exploded from your wand, ripping through the air with a loud bang. But Gojo dodged with infuriating ease, his Infinity shimmering in the air as he closed the distance between you in a blur of speed.
With a wave of his hand, a barrier of pure cursed energy shot toward you. You barely managed to deflect it, the force of the impact sending you skidding back, your boots digging into the earth.
In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
You barely had time to react before he appeared behind you, his hand raised to deliver a blow. But you were ready. With a flick of your wand, you summoned a shield of dark energy, the force of his attack clashing against it in a violent burst of light and shadow.
Gojo let out a low whistle as he jumped back, his grin widening. “Not bad, witch. But let’s see how you handle this.”
He moved faster than you could track, his Infinity shimmering around him as he launched a series of cursed techniques in your direction.
You dodged with precision, your own magic swirling in the air as you countered with a blast of raw energy.
The ground trembled beneath your feet, trees splintering around you as your powers collided. You finally had an opening; you readied your aim to finally bring this battle to an end, but he vanished before your eyes.
“Too slow,” he murmured, appearing behind you, his breath hot against your ear. “But god you’re pretty, I’ll give you that.”
Before you could retaliate, his one hand snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other held both your wrists tight above your head.
The fight was still fresh, but your pulse quickened for an entirely different reason now.
You could feel every inch of him pressed against you—the firm muscles of his chest, the heat radiating off him, the unmistakable bulge growing hard against your lower back.
“Gojo—” you breathed, your wand dropping from your hand as his grip on your wrists tightened.
“Getting distracted?” he teased, his voice a smooth, teasing purr. His hand slid down your body, tracing the curve of your hips. “God, you look even better up close.”
“Let’s call this a draw,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I think I found something a little more interesting to play with, hmm, pretty witch..”
The words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you knew it, he had you pinned against the nearest tree. His mouth was on your neck now, nipping and sucking, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
God, you wanted him—bad—and the worst part was that he knew it, he knew it because this is what happened…every. fucking. time.
You gasped loudly, struggling to keep control, but the way his fingers skimmed over your waist, under the hem of your soiled dress, was driving you insane.
You felt a wet heat build between your legs as you squeezed your thighs together—a weak attempt to suppress the inevitable.
His mouth claimed yours in a hungry kiss, all starvation and dominance. His tongue slid against yours, hot and demanding, while his hand roamed freely over your body, grabbing your tits roughly.
You moaned into his mouth, the taste of him intoxicating, head spinning as he pressed you harder against the rough bark of the tree, it piercing the exposed skin on your back.
“Satoru—” you gasped when he pulled away, his lips trailing down your throat, over your collarbone.
“Say it again,” he growled, his voice rough with lust. His hands found the waistband of your pants, tugging them down in one swift motion, leaving you bare beneath him. “Say my name.”
Your breath hitched as his fingers dipped between your thighs, finding you already wet for him. You did as he asked, “Fuck, Satoru.” You moaned in reaction to his teasing touch on your pulsing cunt.
He chuckled, low and dark, fingers teasing over your clit, circling the sensitive nub with slow, deliberate strokes.
“Already soaked?” he taunted, voice thick with arrogance. “And here I thought you wanted to fight.”
You whimpered as his fingers worked you with precision, each stroke sending sparks of pleasure racing through your gummy walls. Your knees buckled, but Gojo’s body pinned you firmly to the tree, his breath hot against your neck as he continued his torturous rhythm.
“Ohhh,” you whimper, head falling back against the tree as he works you over with skilled precision, each thrust of his fingers drawing you closer and closer to the edge.
"That's it, pretty witch," he coos, his lips ghosting over your skin. "I want to hear you beg for me."
You clench your jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction, but it’s a losing battle.
The pressure builds and builds, and when his thumb grazes your clit while his two long fingers continue to pulse in and out of you, you can’t stop the broken–put pornographic—moan that escapes your lips.
"Good girl," he purrs, his fingers quickening their pace, fucking you with a practiced, almost lazy confidence.
“You’re so good,” you whimpered, hips bucking into his hand, desperate for more.
“Good girl,” he murmured against your skin. “Now let’s see just how well you can take me.”
In one smooth motion, Gojo brought you away from the tree that had previously acted as your fucking-post, and turned you so your back was to him, and his large bulge was pressed up against your ass.
He reached one of his hands to roughly cup your tit, twirling your hardened nipple between his fingertips. His other hand left your dripping cunt, and he brought it up to your mouth, holding out his fingers for you.
“I want you to have a taste before I get to. I bet it's so sweet.” He growled, his voice laced with desire, his eyes watching your sweet lips, as you took his long fingers in, sucking them dry for him.
Once you finished sucking the life out of his fingers, he let out a satisfied sigh before roughly sticking them back into your warmth, moving them around, feeling every inch of your insides.
You let out a loud whimper as he did so, feeling his cock jump against your ass in response to your seductive noise.
He removed his fingers once again and inserted them into his own mouth, You were left panting—no—gasping for air as he enjoyed your sweet nectar.
“God…I was right, baby you’re sweet like candy.” He said in a low whisper before undoing his pants with one smooth hand motion, freeing his hard cock.
You barely had time to process it before he lifted your dress up over your hips, exposing your ass to the crips air.
He pressed the thick head against your entrance, teasingly slow, the heat of him making you dizzy.
“Beg for it,” he growled, his voice a dangerous whisper.
You didn’t want to give him that satisfaction quite yet, so you bit your tongue. But he sensed your hesitation and reached his hand up to your neck, his grip firm but not painful.
“You know,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear, “I’m not even close to being finished with you.” He placed a sloppy kiss right under your ear as he tilted your head back. “Now beg for it.”
His demanding voice sent you well over the edge, your body trembling with need. “Please, Satoru! I need you now. P-Please fuck me.”
That was all it took. With a low groan, he thrust into you, stretching you wide as he buried his thick mass deep into you.
The sensation was overwhelming—he was so big, filling you completely, the stretch almost too much, but the pleasure hit just as hard.
Your screams could probably be heard from miles away, but you couldn’t help it. Your eyes were wet with tears from the sheer pleasure of his dominating rhythm, and your mouth wouldn’t stop letting the world know his name.
“Fuuuck,” Gojo groaned, his head falling to your shoulder as he suddenly slowed his rhythm savouring the way your walls clenched around him. “So fucking tight.” He moaned as he pushed himself further into you than either of you knew was possible.
“Satoru—oh god—” you gasped, your voice breaking as he angled his hips just right, hitting that spot deep inside you that made your vision go white.
Your nails dug into his lower arms as he picked up the pace again, each thrust harder, deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the quiet of the forest.
The friction sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, each movement bringing you closer to the edge, as he held your back up against his chest so he could watch how your tits bounced as he fucked you.
He smirked against your neck, one hand sliding down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. “That’s it, pretty witch. Cum for me.”
Your body obeyed instantly, pleasure crashing over you like a wave as your orgasm hit.
And then you’re falling—tumbling over the edge as pleasure crashes through you in waves, your body shaking as he coaxes every last ounce of pleasure from you.
You yell out his name, a trail of moans follow closely behind as your walls clench around his long cock, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head with pleasure.
“Fuck, that’s it,” Gojo groaned, his hips stuttering as he chased his own release. With a few more rough thrusts, he buried himself deep inside you, spilling hot and thick as he came with a low growl.
For a moment, the forest was silent again, the only sound your ragged breathing as Gojo slumped against you, still buried deep inside.
He pressed a soft, almost tender kiss to your temple, his usual cocky grin returning.
“Don’t you just hate when a battle ends in a draw..” He teased, his fingers wiping away some of your orgasm-caused tears with a smug look on his face.
“You’re fun,” he whispered, pulling out slowly, a trail of his cum dripping down your thighs. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”
You couldn’t speak, but you readjusted your dress and picked up your wand from the muddy forest floor, still reeling from the intensity of what just happened.
But as he pulled away, adjusting his clothes with a satisfied smirk, you knew one thing for sure—this wouldn’t be the last time Gojo Satoru got the best of you.
“Oh, and Happy Halloween, pretty witch.”
#ncs monster mash#simplygojo#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagine#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#gojo smut#jujutsu gojo#jjk#gojo satoru x reader#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jjk smut#satoru x reader#jjk satoru#jujutsu satoru#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#jujustu kaisen#satoru gojo smut#jjk x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#jjk oneshot#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo jjk#gojo saturo#jujtsu kaisen
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has never went to oovoo javer
pairings ⇢ uber driver!hyuck x afab!reader
warnings ⇢ strangers???, protected sex (kinda), car sex, thigh riding, fingering, oral (m receiving/slight f receiving), voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation (f), mentions of being high, squirting, lip ring hyuck OFC, also big fat cock hyuck agenda, roleplay
word count ⇢ 4.1k
a/n ⇢ i dreamed this or something i swear, also thank u hua my bestie for letting me talk about this as always 🤭🤭
masterlist
you didn’t take uber’s often, usually opting for carpooling with friends or using public transport, but when you did you always got the same driver. he was pretty nice all of the times you met him, not bothering you with talking unless you started the conversation and even handing you candy after the third time you rode with him.
he was really attractive too, at least from the backseat and from his uber profile picture he seemed to update regularly. he had longish dark hair, plush rosy lips with a pretty silver lip ring, and he wore an insane amount of rings that suited him.
you always wondered if he had some sort of other job or if he was just an uber driver. he seemed like someone who would be in a band or work at a grocery store. there was noi-between. you were nosy but never wanted to pry since he was just your always uber driver.
today was different for you though you had left your friends late so you couldn’t take the bus and your friends were high just like you. so you got on your little uber app and waited to see who it was. it would almost be surprising if it wasn’t haechan, but his face popped up on the app and it made you a little giddy.
you could overthink and let your mind wander to why he was always picking you up and somehow always right around the corner but you didn’t. you liked seeing him with decorated fingers gripping the wheel while he played music you had said you liked.
so you bid your friends goodnight and hurried down the stairs to the front of the building. looking left and right to see if his familiar black suv was pulling up. you waited a minute rocking on your heels and shivering slightly when you finally saw him pulling up flipping his lights to get your attention. you scurry over to his car gripping the handle and sliding into the back seat and fixing your hair with your hands before looking up to see him staring back at you.
“hi,” you mumble, scanning his face to see his lip ring glinting in the car light.
“hi, pretty, how are you?” he responds, lips pulling into a slight smile. you don’t remember what ride he started calling you pretty on but it made you want to giggle and kick your feet.
“high and horny,” you blurt, making him throw his head back laughing. you cover your mouth quickly mortified at your confession. “fuck sorry.”
“you’re good, pretty, just don’t make a mess on my seats,” he winked before turning back around to face the front. you throw your head back to hit the headrest while heat floods your body. from both the embarrassment and the heat between your legs and his little comment didn’t help. you squeezed your legs together, the fabric of your dress riding up as you did.
the drive to your place was about 15 minutes and it was going to be complete and total torture but once you got home you could hole up in your room with a hand between your legs and release the pent-up feelings.
you had forgotten how getting high made your panties insanely wet and your body vibrate. but you remembered now staring at haechan who was tapping his ringed fingers on the steering wheel and letting his tongue swipe his lip before tugging on his lip ring with his teeth. you wondered how that would feel against your hot skin. the cool metal against your thighs while his head was between your legs teasing your cunt.
your legs pressed together again and gripped your knee with your hand. you didn’t realize a whimper had slipped out from your throat as your fingers drifted up your knee to raise the hem of your dress and make the skin of your thigh tingle.
you looked out the window hoping something could distract you from the ache between your legs and the hot guy in the front seat. you never felt his eyes floating to you through the rearview mirror, or the way he scanned you, watching the way your leg bounced and your dress rode up your soft thighs.
he could tell you weren’t being funny with your horny comment. you were on the edge of your seat needing to be touched. he wondered what you thought about maybe him touching you, fingers trailing over your skin making you twitch beneath him. now he was working himself up and letting his mind wander. he shook his head concentrating back on the road instead of your panties peeking out as the dress rose even more.
one little touch won’t hurt, right? just something to press against your pulsing core. you side-eye haechan to see him focusing on the road so you let your hand slide further up your leg. using your nondominant hand hopefully to deter you from flicking your wrist like you liked. each touch feels like something deeper and more intimate than normal, the slide of your fingers before they touch the fabric of your panties has your breath hitching.
the panties feel so soft and delicate and so damp and hot practically dripping in your arousal. your chest was almost heaving when you pressed your fingers against your center. you could feel your clit pulsing under your touch but the pressure of your digits wasn’t enough to relieve it.
haechan was still peeking back at you, gawking when your hand slipped between your legs as you leaned your forehead against the car window, your breath fogging the glass. he could feel his jeans growing tighter when you finally rocked your hips ever so slightly. he wanted to watch you, stare at you while you ground against your hand, but he was driving and he had to get you to your destination safely.
once you started moving you couldn’t stop yourself letting your hips do the work bucking perfectly against your fingers. the hot ache between your legs only felt like it was growing. chasing the relief you knew you would get when you just let yourself have it, legs shaking, the mind-numbing orgasm you craved. but you were in the back of haechan’s car so you stopped moving and huff against the window resting your forehead on the cool glass taking some of the heat from you.
taking a minute to breathe, moving your hand far away from between your legs you try to collect yourself. what the fuck were you doing? trying to get off in the back of an uber like a weird porn intro. then your mind started drifting to porn - no. focus. no dirty nasty porn brain.
“you good?” your eyes almost bulge out of your head. had he seen you? did he know you were getting freaky in his back seat?
“yeah just, yeah,” you mumble, still a little brain foggy. you look up to see him staring back at you in the rearview his eyes are darker but still as sweet as ever.
“your temp okay?” you nod knowing he can see you but still mutter a yes as your head lulls on the headrest.
“there’s a lot of traffic tonight, might take longer than normal,” he mentioned and you groan in response making him smirk to himself. it only made you want to cry. you can’t wait much longer you’re already trying to cum in the car and now there’s traffic. a cruel and unusual world to live in.
“it’ll be okay, baby, i’ll get you home safe,” he says, reaching his hand back to pat your knee. you felt like you were on fire from his pet name switching to baby and the skin-to-skin contact. you wanted him to slide his hand higher and touch you where you needed it.
you pout while you whimper mostly to yourself and grip the hem of your dress now suddenly aware of how it lays almost at your hip exposing so much skin. you don’t even recognize your hands lingering, smoothing over the fabric you relax into the feeling. closing your eyes leaning back and your hands move on their own.
it doesn’t even feel like your hands that are pulling your panties to the side letting the cool air hit your heat. your other hand finally making contact and making you sigh at the touch. your fingers swirling around your pulsing clit collecting the slick that's filled your panties. you can already feel yourself getting close, the touch finally providing what you need.
you don’t notice the boy in the driver's seat staring back at you through the mirror watching the way your face twists and mouth falls open as you flick your wrist. he’s almost drooling seeing your cunt glisten as you bring yourself closer. he watches closely but still flicks his eyes back to the road catching your hole flutter and begging to be filled.
he brings his hand to palm his jeans matching your timing, but he wants you. needs to feel you around him while he fills you up. he can only imagine the way you would wrap around him perfectly. but he can't, he really can't, you're his sweet little frequent rider who gives him the best reviews. but also you’re in his back seat cunt dripping onto his leather seats. what’s a man to do?
your hand isn’t enough so your hips start to buck against your fingers slipping and sliding against your clit and your hole. you want to slip your fingers inside and fill yourself but you need to be fast don’t savor the moment just get off.
suddenly you remember you aren’t so alone and you flutter your eyes open and see him staring back. it makes your breath hitch when you make eye contact through the mirror but you’re in too deep to stop. you almost want to go harder with how his dark eyes stare into you unapologetically looking down at your pussy.
“can you pull over,” you almost whimper and he looks back at you expression flipping between dark to concerned. wondering if you’re going to beat him up or if you want more like he does. but he doesn’t hesitate to go down a side road and find a parking lot for some privacy. he can see your fingers still moving in his peripheral vision.
when he finally pulls in and parks you waste no time unbuckling before leaning forward to tug his sweater and attach your lips to his. he doesn’t wait to reciprocate, pressing hungrily into you. his lips are just as soft as they looked at the cool metal of his piercing had your head spinning.
“is this okay?” you pull back breathing heavily and staring up at him.
“so much more than okay,” he responds, smirking over at you, and you smile back tugging his collar and making him scramble out of his seat clumsily crawling into the back with you making you laugh. you tug him to you again gripping the soft knit of his sweater as your lips find him again.
you push him to sit back but follow his lips keeping you attached to him before straddling his lap. the ripped denim covering his leg is pressing against your core and his hands are kneading your hips over your dress, but you want him closer. you grind into him and whimper into his mouth and his tongue chases your lips lapping up at them.
“more,” you whine and his hands grip your hips tighter, rocking you against his leg.
“so needy,” he breathes, sitting back to look at you with heavy eyes. your eyes are closed but you can feel him staring at you and each move you make. you lift the hem of your dress pulling it up to reveal your panties to him and the source of your moans.
he groans leaning forward to kiss your neck as his hands slide over your exposed flesh. fingers grazing under the waist of your panties, snapping them against your skin. his hands keep you from moving against him as fast as you want to and it’s frustrating but his tongue suckles your neck distracting you.
“slow down, pretty, let me make you feel good,” he whispers against your skin before blowing cool air against your neck, making you shiver.
“need more,” you whimper, but his hands slow you down before stopping you with a pout on your face. he smirks up at you before kissing your lips and turning to lay you back against the seat.
he presses against you, his body encompassing you and you feel him all around. one hand holding himself up on the seat and the other gripping your thigh fingers smoothing the skin as his lips desperately meet yours.
his lips mold to yours and you whimper against him opening your mouth to slip your tongue out sliding over his lips. he chases your tongue sucking it into his mouth. the sucking sounds filling his backseat as your saliva mixes and smears against your mouths. and you love it the messy and needy way he kisses you feels so raw and real.
your breathing is heavy in his mouth and so is his. he releases your lips letting his wet mouth roam down your face to your neck licking against the warm skin and your hands comb through his hair clinging to the strands. he's flipping your dress up again gripping higher on your thigh.
“touch me,” you whine, grabbing his wrist and moving it to graze your panties. you hear and feel him groan, vibrating against your neck making you shiver. he doesn’t hesitate to do what you say, gripping your panties and sliding them down before pulling away to fully remove them.
“fuck you’re soaked,” he moans lifting your soiled panties and swirling them around his finger to tease you.
“shut up,” you groan, covering your face with your hands but your lower half is still completely exposed to him.
“stop you’re fucking cute,” he pulls your hands away staring down at you. “can i keep these?” he smirks, nodding to the panties.
“only if you do something in the next 5 seconds,” you whine at him bucking your hips for something. he just coos down at you teasing your neediness, but he touches you, fingers pressing into your thighs dragging closer to your core. you don’t see him toss your panties into the front seat.
“you’re so fucking needy. can’t believe you were getting off in my backseat.” you mewl at his words you can’t deny it. “so fucking wet.” he whispers fingers touching your cunt and making you twitch. his fingers slide over you collecting the juices dripping out of you before bringing his fingers up in front of his face scissoring them curiously staring at the slick clinging to his digits and it only makes u more embarrassed.
“what’s got you shy? you weren’t shy earlier with your hand down your panties.” he teases before swirling his tongue around his fingers staring right at you while he does it. you try to avoid his eye contact as he tastes you on his digits.
“hmm? what is it, pretty?” you shake your head as he leans closer to you licking at your lips while his spit-covered fingers slip between you and find your core again. your mouth falls open when he uses a finger to fill you up. he watches you intently the way you try to close your mouth and bite your lip but he stops you licking over your mouth distracting you.
“don’t be quiet. let me hear you.” you nod harshly in response, moaning when his finger curls inside of you. you want more, you need more.
“more haechan, please,” you plead looking up at him and bucking your hips against him.
“huh? can't hear you.” you want to roll your eyes but you want him to fill you up more.
“more need more of you please.” you croak louder this time and he doesn’t waste time adding another finger making your legs tremble when his digits immediately curl inside of you. he leans back between your legs watching the way your cunt swallows his fingers. his hand that was holding him up is pressing your thigh backward showing you to him completely.
“so fucking pretty, take it so well yeah?” he coos staring down at you watching the way your mouth is open and fingers slide over your lips. his fingers are moving skillfully inside of you and his thumb swirls over your clit.
“is good. so good,” you manage breath caught in your throat you haven’t felt so good in so long. the pleasure taking over and swirling in your stomach tightening with each thrust.
“yeah, pretty? gonna cum huh?” his words make you cry so close to the edge. “tell me.”
“so close.” you whimper, grabbing his sleeve and tugging him to you. he’s sucking your neck instantly, keeping his hand thrusting into you.
“cum, pretty girl,” he says, and you can’t stop letting the knot in your stomach release as you do. arching into him as he works you through it, releasing on his hand and the seat beneath you. your legs close around him but he doesn’t stop until you're pulling on the hair at his nape.
he pulls away looking down between you dipping his fingers into the mess you made.
“you’re a squirter? cute,” you shake your head and want to melt into the seat. since when are you a squirter? “liar, you made such a mess.” he teases before leaning down to lick over your cunt.
“nuhuh, so much,” you whine, pushing his head away but he just smirks up at you, swirling his tongue lower to collect you on his tongue.
“you just taste so fucking good.”
“wanna taste you,” you say boldly leaning up and catching him off guard. your hands find their way to his belt fiddling with the leather.
“want to be inside you.” he counters, staring back at you gripping your wrist.
“please just-“ he cuts you off with a kiss and releases your wrist letting you unbuckle his belt and quickly tug his zipper. his lips are distracting you but you try to push him backwards to give you room to settle between his legs.
you take his clothed length in your hands and leave wet opened mouth kisses while looking at him to see his reactions. he’s staring down at you, one hand laying over his stomach and the other resting on his thigh. you sit back on your heels pulling his waistband down to let his cock slap against his stomach.
you don’t waste time leaning back down to take him in your mouth. he’s hot and heavy on your tongue and it makes you squeeze your legs together at the idea of him inside of you. you swirl your tongue and take the rest of him in your hands pumping his length.
“so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he whispers, fingers pushing your hair out of your face mainly to see your eyes while you swallow around him. you push your head down to take even more of him hearing him groan and his fingers curl into your scalp.
“take me so well,” he moans, legs shaking beside your head when you moan around him. you want him to fuck your face but you decide not to ask maybe that’s too much for the back seat with your uber driver.
“fuck fuck fuck,” he says trying to push you off of him. you release him with a pop smiling up at him spit sliding down your chin.
“what?” you giggle at him using the back of your hand to swipe at the saliva.
“you’re a fucking minx,” he grins back before dragging you to him to kiss you again. he brings you close to him pulling you onto his lap you whine when you feel his cock against your folds.
“do you have protection?” he asks looking over at you.
“i’m clean but i have some,” you lean back, grabbing your long-forgotten bag.
“i’m clean too but,” he trails off when you lift the packet and tear it open. hurriedly you take it out and slide it down his length making him sigh.
“just fuck my brains out please,” you look at him with doe eyes before kissing him and lifting over his length before pressing it to your hole. you moan in unison as you sink down onto him, filling you up.
“so fucking tight,” he groans as his fingers dig into the skin of your hips. you’re speechless you feel so full and overwhelmed you can barely move just have him inside of you.
“you good?” he asks, grabbing your cheeks to look at him and you nod. “tell me.” he doesn’t demand this time asking softly for you to tell him how you feel.
“so good i can’t think. ‘m so full,” you whimper, falling into his chest and you can almost tell he’s smiling when he soothes over your back and coos at you.
“poor baby,” he coos, thrusting into you. “too much?” you whine and he bucks again. “can't take my fat cock can you?” you shake your head and he thrusts with each word punctuating it.
“ha- chan,” you mewl, lips pressing into his neck. he reaches around you holding you up as he lays you back again. his hair falls in his face as he leans over you thrusting into you deeply. he keeps his pace slow but steady, not letting you miss a single drag of his cock inside of you.
he kisses the side of your open mouth before sitting up between you moving his hands to press your thighs against your chest. he stared down at the way your cunt swallows his length with each thrust completely sucking him in.
“take me so fucking well,” he groans and you feel tears slipping down your face. “letting your little uber driver fuck you such a dirty whore.”
“hyuck,” you whine, slipping from the space.
“who?” he stops his movements staring down at you. you can see he’s trying not to break but his teasing eyes almost give him away.
“haechan, harder,” you whisper, he grins at you following your instructions. deepening each stroke and pushing you into the seat.
“like that, baby?” you nod sloppily and feel the familiar feeling coming back, the sweet release so close you can almost taste it. haechan notices bringing his finger to swirl around your clit.
“pretty baby, gonna cum on my cock?” he moans looking down at you.
“so close,” you whimper back, gripping his arm tighter. he moves his arm from your grasp to lock your fingers together as he plunges into you.
“gonna let your uber driver fuck you and have you a dirty mess in his backseat, huh? little slutty thing just fucking anyone.” his filthy words are all it takes to have you clenching tightly around him mumbling incoherently as you cum. he groans at the way your pussy squeezes around him and grips him so tight.
“cum on me,” you whisper to him, head still full of pleasure but you know he’s close to his own.
“so nasty.” he groans, his hand still holding yours and the other still grips your thigh, bruising the supple flesh. you slip your hand between you pulling the condom off in one motion just as he releases, coating your messy cunt with hot white cum. “fuck.”
he slides his cock against your cunt smearing his cum and letting it mix with yours as you both catch your breath. you look down between your legs watching him grinding his cock against your clit seeing the mess you’d made.
“you’re such a freak.” he chuckles looking up at you, catching you staring.
“shut up,” you whine trying to cover your face again but he doesn’t let you. gripping your wrists and kissing you tenderly.
“we gotta divulge in your little kinks more often baby. you’re so filthy.” you want to look away because it feels like he’s staring through you.
“you’re still my uber driver, remember?” you tease him.
“oh sorry miss, we’re definitely going to have a late arrival.”
“hyuck,” you whine trying to push him away.
“you slipped with that earlier baby, so cute.” he teases again, reaching over to the glove box to grab some napkins.
“it’s hard not calling you that. you’re my hyuck,” you pout at him.
“i know and you’re my filthy slutty whorish girlfriend,” he grins mischievously, but still diligently cleaning you both up.
“and so are you.”
“i’m keeping the panties by the way.”
“like you haven’t already stolen 10 other pairs.” you roll your eyes playfully.
“it’s because i’m disgustingly obsessed with you.”
©️ tddyhyck
#haechan smut#haechan x you#haechan x reader#nct dream smut#nct smut#nct dream x reader#nct 127 smut#haechan x y/n#haechan hard thoughts#haechan hard hours#donghyuck x reader#donghyuck smut
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Hiii, if you haven't already can you do morning's with enhypen? Like waking up needy to them, getting ready for the etc 🙏🙏
Sweet Mornings...
A/n: I'm sorry this took me a long time to finish, i was kinda hesitant to write this cause I don't write things like this, really cause it flusters me tbh. But ig I wanna step out a lil now that I'm an adult. I changed the request a little too tho, uhh. Just Hyung line, I would have written for sunoo and Jungwon as well, maybe next time if ppl like this one.
Warnings: Kissing, making out, Talks of engagements and fighting, suggestive but not going fully into it cause I'm a coward ig lol, angst(?). I got really excited with Hoonie's.
𔘓 Heeseung
The peaceful hug of sleep is harshly interrupted by the blaring of your boyfriend's alarm. You groan, struggling to move in his unwavering grasp, his chest still calmly moving signalling he's still deep in slumber. When your right hand is set free, you turn off the aggravating sound. You stare at the ceiling, using all of your strength to get out of Heeseung's hands.
When you return to the room, Heeseung is sitted at the edge of the bed, hunched over his phone, not looking up when you draw closer. "Did my alarm ring? I didn't hear it." "I did." You grumble, flopping down on the bed next to him, relaxing your back into it.
He gently rubs your thigh, "sorry, love." you groan at him, pressing your hands to your chest, your eyes closing. You feel him move, finding his way between your legs, his head resting on your chest. "I wanna sleep hee." " I'm not trying to stop you darling." You sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
He gently shifts again, kissing up your neck, your fingers twitching slightly. "Hee." You gasp, letting your arms flop to the bed as he rises up. His fingers lace with yours, "Sorry, am I disturbing you?" He teased, you shake your head.
"Beautiful." he mutters, capturing your lips.
𔘓 Jay
Arguments with Jay were rare, but when they happened, they often left the both of you hurt. That was the case the night before, Jay's harsh words repeating in your mind as you slam your apartment door behind you. The darkness of the night engulfed you as you walked to god knows where to clear your mind. When you come home you're met with silence, the clock ticking in the background. 3:00 am.
You settle for the couch, using a soft plushie as a pillow, covering you body with your jacket.
You barely drift off when you're awakened by your body being hoisted up. Though you can't see him, your arms wrap around his neck, your soft breath brushing against his neck. Jay gently places you on your shared bed, his body hovering over you.
"I was so worried." he murmurs, you struggle to act like you don't care, the slight quiver in his voice causing your heart to squeeze in pain. "You didn't answer your phone, I went to check everywhere but I couldn't find you." a tear falls to your check, rolling off immediately. "My phone died." You answer, your right hand raising to wipe his tears. You sit in silence before his lips are pressed to yours, apologies slipping from his lips when he pulls away.
He is fully over you now, his lips kissing your skin gently, apologies following every press of his lips to your skin. Your fingers lace as the sun slowly starts to peek in.
𔘓 Jake
Jake plays with the subtle silver band on your finger, the dopey smile from the day before never wavering. Jake's eyes raising to meet yours excitedly, "I can't believe we're engaged." he repeats, you chuckle, pulling your hand away to rub your eyes. "You've said that all night." he wraps his hand around your waist, pulling you closer.
"I can't believe it... Can't believe you said yes." He leans in, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. A giggle leaves you as you playfully push him away, wiping your face. "Maybe I should've said no, after all the stress you put me through all weekend. " He pouts, pulling you close to his chest, his hair tickling your skin.
"Sorry, I wanted it to be special, and memorable." you shun him playfully, crossing your hands over your chest, leaning your head away. He bites the space between your neck and jaw gently, a small yelp leaving your lips. "Yunnie!" He giggles into your neck, hands moving to your side, tickling you.
You laugh loudly, struggling to get out of his grasp. You turn your body slightly, hold his right arm tightly, both hands stopping in response. You pause to catch your breath, leaning forward towards his neck. He responds faster than you, pressing your arms to your chest, his body going to hover over you.
"I'm winning this one babe." you cock your eyebrow, tilting your head slightly. You bite your bottom lip, trailing your eyes down to his, your eyes looking back up into his. His stare intense, a slight blush rising to his face. "Really?" You take advantage of his loosening grip, reaching up to pull him down. Your lips dance with his, your tongue licks at his bottom lip, and he readily welcomes you, his hand gripping the sheets beside your head.
You pull away, leaning up more to bite his ear, giggling at the shakey sound he lets out. "I think I won Jakey."
𔘓 Sunghoon
You stir awake hearing a loud sound ring through your apartment, your heart pounding in your ear as you stay in your position waiting to see if anything else would come up. Your name catches your ear, though muffled, your previous fear flipping to happiness. You jump to your feet, forgetting your slippers, the cold tiles waking up your nerves more.
"Hoon?" He's barely visible, shifting his bags. He looks up and smiles, "Hey." You're in his arms almost a second later, he let's out a surprise laugh as he stumbles backwards. " Thought you were coming home tomorrow." you murmur into his neck, "Surprise~" he teases. He holds you for a second, before gently going to push your shoulders to see your face. Your head shakes in response, your grip not faltering, slowly growing drunk on his scent. "can I look at you? It's been months since I saw your face." "Please just hold me." He easily complies, both arms wrapping around you tightly.
You pull away from him eventually, his hand raises to your cheek. You finally scan his face fully, your face twisting with worry. "You look exhausted." he only smiles, "I am, a little." the last part comes out lightly and deep, your eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips before moving back. He leans in and you lean away, "You need to rest." "Hah, yeah." he pulls away, his hand reaching for his luggage.
Your hand lightly brushes his away, a short huff leaving you as your struggle to raise it. "You'll get hurt y/n, I got it." "I got it." You say dragging your feet towards your room. He watches you for a second, laughing silently to himself before reaching from his smaller duffle bag.
You're not sure when you both fell asleep, but his soft breath in your face now filled you with a certain warmth. The afternoon sun peeking in through your windows, adding warmth to your body. You brush his hair out of his face, your finger outlining his face before you lean in, pressing your lips gently to his. There's a slight pause before the ends curl up, shifting his face deeper into the pillow, his eyes opening to look at you.
"What a beautiful sight to wake up to." He murmurs, his deep voice ringing in your mind. You snicker, "I know." you whisper in response, your hand moving slightly down his neck, your eyes follow your fingers tracing his skin. "Missed you." you look up at him, you body growing hot as your take in the emotion evident on his face. "Me too." His hand trails down your waist, a trail of goosebumps following in his tracks, despite the layer of clothing keeping his hand from your skin. His cold hand on your warm skin makes you jolt slightly, your shirt raised slightly giving him access to your lower waist.
"Missed you so much you have no clue. you're such a distraction even when you're miles away." He teased. You grip at his shirt as he pulls you close, closing the distance between the both of you. He opens his mouth to speak again, and you immediately press your lips to his, his hand immediately going behind your head.
#cherubshert diary.#enhypen reactions#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#kpop fanfic#kpop x poc reader#kpop x black reader#cherub𔘓works#enhypen fluff#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon fanfiction#sunghoon fluff#enhypen jay fic#enhypen jay fluff#enhypen jay angst#lee heeseung fluff#heeseung fluff#heeseung x reader#jaeyun x reader#jaeyun imagines#jaeyun fluff
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These Roses Have Thorns
Pairing: Sylus x Fem|Reader
Summary: Reader has feelings for a man she met at the arcade named Sylus. There are two major problems though. 1. He has feelings for someone else. 2. This means you've contracted Hanahaki disease. Could having a crush be any worse?
Content Warnings: Adult language. Kidnapping. Descriptions of coughing up flowers.
Length: 6k
So you had worked at the arcade for a while now. It was a pretty easy job as jobs went. You restocked claw machines, vending machines, disinfecting joysticks, made sure floors stayed swept and that kids weren’t climbing into through the claw machine flaps to steal toys. For the most part you were behind a desk just people watching.
You saw a lot of couples come in and out, playing games and acting all adorable. It made you long for something like that. You had been single for a while now and the desire for a boyfriend got stronger and stronger every time you saw another ridiculously cute couple come in.
There was this one girl you saw come in a lot. She was always with a different guy though. All of them good-looking. You thought that maybe she was a serial dater or maybe she just had three different boyfriends that she was cheating on. Maybe she was just friends with all of them and you were reading too much into it. It was hard to know for sure because she was so stinking cute and the guys she came in with her were all drop dead handsome.
They spent most of their time at the claw machines winning prizes. After a while you stopped blinking an eye when she came in with the blond then the purple haired guy then the serious looking dark haired man every week. Whatever their relationship was, it was none of your business.
Then one day someone new walked in. You were sure you had never seen this man before. He had silver hair, blood red eyes, and had on dark clothes that stood in stark contrast to the peachy pink interior of the arcade. He spotted you staring and walked up. He was also tall as could be, easily dwarfing you by a good few inches.
“Can you exchange these bills for tokens?” his voice was a smooth and rich baritone that made your toes curl in your shoes.
“Oh uh,” you forced yourself to stop staring and take the bills he held out for you. “Yes. Right away.” You turned, heart hammering hard in your chest as you stuck the bills in the coin machine behind you and exchanged them for a huge bucket of tokens.
“There you are.” You set the bucket on the counter. “Sure is a lot of tokens, planning on playing a lot of games?”
“There’s a certain plushie that a friend of mine wants. It’s apparently a limited supply stock so she was adamant about getting it, but she also got called away on work suddenly. So here I am.”
“Oh! The cake bunny one? Yeah, we don’t get them in very often.” You couldn’t deny you weren’t tempted to steal one for your own plushie collection back home. “Well, sounds like you’re a very good friend. I wish the best of luck to you.”
“Thanks.” he took the bucket and went over to the claw machines. From where you were stood you could keep an eye on him, and you were more than thankful for that. He was definitely not bad to look at.
You watched him for a while, trying and failing over and over to get the plush he desired. He was having good luck accidentally grabbing other ones though. You did end up having to go over and talk to him when you noticed him use an evol on the machine.
“Sorry sir, no evol influence with the machines.” you said, scampering up to him. “Company policy.”
He sighed, looking in at the glass case and recalled his evol. “This bunny is proving far more difficult to get than I anticipated.”
“You got a lot of others though.” you picked up one of the little stuffed bumblebees. “Even if you don’t get the bunny you can shower your friend in all these.”
“She has most of them already.” he poked the bee you were holding. “If you want any of them, feel free to take them. I’ll have no use for them.”
“Really?” you squeezed the bee plushie to your chest.
He smirked. “Of course,” he leaned in closer so he was almost nose to nose, “If you can do me a favor and look the other way on this evol business. What do you say?”
Your face flushed and your heart went racing again. “Oh uh…” you looked away. “I mean, it isn’t like I’m losing money if you end up getting the toy. Just don’t be obvious about it, okay?”
He chucked you under the chin. “You’ll see that I can be very stealthy, no one will ever know about this. Your understanding is greatly appreciated, have your pick of the lot, honey bee.”
Did he just call you honey bee?
He turned back to the game, his evol re-emerging to help move the cake bunny plush into a better position. You were stuck for a moment before remembering yourself and grabbing two other plushes from down by his feet and carrying them back to the desk.
You glanced back over your shoulder and saw that he was watching you with a satisfied smile. A tickle fluttered in the back of your throat and you coughed lightly to dislodge it, though it did nothing of the sort.
The day continued on and soon it was time for you to start locking up. Unfortunately for him, that guy was still at the claw machine. He was hitting his head off the glass and looked about two seconds from breaking it and just grabbing the plush.
“There is no way that this isn’t rigged somehow.” he said. “There just isn’t a way I can be this bad at getting one stupid toy.”
“Well, you got one more token.” you handed it to him. “One last chance and then I gotta lock up.”
“Lock up?” He looked around at the abandoned arcade. “How long have I been at this?”
“Long enough that it’s night now.” you gave him a little pat on the back. “Come on, one last try. You got it.”
He sighed and put in the last token. “You can do it! I believe in you!” Maybe a little cheering would help.
He gave a wry smile and moved the joystick so the claw was over the toy once again. He hit the button and lo and behold the plushie stayed! It dropped down into the chute and the lights flashed as he finally won.
“Three hours…” he took the plush out of the machine. “She had better appreciate what I went through for her.”
“I’m sure your friend will. Now come on, I was supposed to have this place locked up a half hour ago.”
“If you closed half an hour ago why didn’t you kick me out sooner?”
“You had been at it for so long and you didn’t have that many tokens left so I decided to just leave you to it while I did some cleaning.” you shrugged.
You left the arcade and locked the door behind you. Then cursed when you realized it was raining. Walking back to your apartment was going to suck. Why hadn’t you brought an umbrella?
The man went to a motorcycle parked by the curb and got on. “You waiting for someone?” he asked.
“No. I think I’ll just wait to see if the rain lets up any.”
“Do you need a ride?”
“Oh no, I couldn’t impose.”
“You let me cheat at the game and kept the arcade open late for me. I can give you a ride home, I have an extra helmet.” he opened the seat and fished out a helmet.
Your heart did another pitter patter in your chest. “You don’t mind? I don’t want you to have to go out of your way.”
He rolled his eyes and tossed you the helmet. “Get on the bike, honey bee.”
“Okay. Thank you.” you pulled the helmet on. He sat you on the seat of the motorcycle and told you to hold on tight so you didn’t fall off.
You gave him the address for your apartment building and he drove straight there. It was nice getting a ride but because it was on a motorcycle you were still getting drenched by the rain. Finally you made it back to your apartment and got off the bike. “Thanks again,” you said. “Um…sorry I don’t know your name.”
“Sylus.” he held a hand out.
You shook it. “It was a pleasure.” A crack of thunder made you jump. At the same time your phone beeped with an alert. Automatically the emergency alert started playing.
“Severe and unsafe weather conditions. All citizens are encouraged to stay inside. Roads experiencing flooding. Drivers are advised to pull over and remain where they are until the storm has lightened at eleven PM tonight.” the automated voice said.
“Sheesh.” you looked at Sylus as he prepared to get back on his bike. “Hey! You heard that alert the same as me. You shouldn’t be driving.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Famous last words.” you stormed back into the downpour and grabbed his arm. “It’s not safe. Please. Come inside, just until the rain lessens.”
He considered you for a moment. Something in your eyes must have resonated with him or maybe he was pitying your pleading look but he got off the bike. “Lead the way.”
This…probably wasn’t a good idea. Then again none of the choices you were making tonight were necessarily good considering that you didn’t know this guy. You watched him fail at a claw machine for a couple hours, that was it. And from that you decided to keep the arcade open late, got on his motorcycle, trusted him with your actual home address, and were now inviting him in. You didn’t get a vibe that he was someone who was going to hurt you but if your friends could see you right now they would yell at you for letting a strange man into your apartment for an indefinite amount of time!
Well too late. You were in it now.
You walked up to your apartment and let him. Your immediate course of action was to change out of your wet clothes and into dry ones. When you came back out of your room Sylus was still standing in the entry way dripping wet.
“Oh shoot, I forgot you were also still soaked.” you shoved your wet clothes in the laundry. “I think I have something you can change into while I put those clothes in the dryer.”
“And what do you have that you think will fit me?” he asked.
“I’m pretty sure my ex-boyfriend left some of his sweats here when we broke up. Let me go find them. If you want you can go to the bathroom and dry yourself off, I’ll set the clothes outside the door.”
He nodded and went into the room you pointed to. You fished around in your drawers finally finding a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt your ex had missed when he was packing. The pants may be a little short on Sylus and the shirt was definitely going to be a bit snug since his chest was a lot broader but it was better than nothing. You set the clothes outside the door to the bathroom and went about wiping up the puddles of water while you got the kettle boiling. Rainy nights were a good time for hot tea and instant ramen.
The door to the bathroom creaked open and Sylus came out wearing the dry clothes. Like you thought, they weren’t a perfect fit but he didn’t look uncomfortable in them.
“I’ll just take those.” you grabbed the wet clothes and tossed them in the dryer. “Do you want anything to eat or drink? I was making some tea and ramen for myself if you wanted anything. Pretty sure I have some leftover curry too, some snacks, anything sound good?”
“Tea is fine.” he said.
You nodded and poured both of you cups of tea. There was a bit of an awkward air around you two as silence descended. You decided to have mercy and turn on the TV to distract yourself. After your ramen was done you both went to sit on the couch and watch whatever was playing.
As the storm raged on outside you found yourself becoming more and more at ease with your guest. The conversation wasn’t groundbreaking or anything but it was pleasant. He was pretty funny when he wanted to be. Time passed and you barely even noticed when the rain finally let up. It was nearly midnight when your phone alerted you that the streets were safe for drivers again.
“I’ll be taking my leave then.” Sylus said, “Thank you for inviting me in.”
“No problem. Thanks for the ride home.” you pulled his clothes out of the dryer and handed them to him. “Did you want to change back before you left?”
He shrugged on the jacket. “No. This will be fine. I need to get going sooner rather than later.”
You walked him to the door. “This has been a pleasant evening, more so than I was expecting.”
“Glad to know I was a good host.” you beamed. That tickle in the back of your throat had been getting more persistent all evening and you cursed as you turned to hack into your elbow again.
“Sounds like you should have gotten a hot shower when you came home instead of playing hostess.” Sylus said. “Can’t have you getting sick.”
“I’m not sick, I just think there’s some dust in my throat or something.” you wiped at your watering eyes. “Stay dry out there. Good night.”
“Good night.” he nodded and left.
Once the door had closed a large dopey smile had grown across your face. This evening had been so nice! He was really cool and kind and interesting. Not to mention pretty darn handsome. You were afraid you had made your mooning over him obvious by the end but he didn’t seem to have noticed. Probably too distracted by your annoying cough to realize you were gazing at him like a lovestruck school girl.
Maybe fate would lead him back to your arcade another day. You’d be brave and ask for his number if that happened.
You went to bed with your head full of fuzzy warm dreams. You were probably asleep for an hour or two before you woke up again coughing like mad. You could feel something caught in your throat. You know you could! Oh god, were you going to puke?
You swung out of bed and ran to the bathroom coughing and coughing and coughing until your throat was raw and your eyes watered so much you couldn’t see. When you peered down into the toilet bowl you saw a splash of red and your blood went cold. Oh no…was that blood? Were you coughing up blood?
You wiped the tears from your eyes and saw the red spot was not blood at all but instead a bright red rose petal. “Oh shit…”
~~~
The next couple days you could not stop thinking about that damn flower petal. Of course the second you developed a crush on a guy it would turn into Hanahaki disease! Hanahaki was annoying disease that was caused by a metaflux fluctuation hundreds of years ago that had permanently altered human DNA. So now, anytime someone fell for someone who did not reciprocate that feeling they coughed up flowers.
Your life wasn’t in danger. Hanahaki was an annoying chronic disease that lasted so long as you had feelings. You could opt for surgery to have it removed but it was still experimental. You knew that early surgeries had resulted in the patients being unable to fall in love at all after completion. Newer surgeries had seen progress where it just removed the inability to ever develop romantic feelings for the person you previously liked again which was a lot more doable.
Most people just lived with it until they finally had their hearts move on or if their unrequited love turned into an actual love match. The ratio of people who contracted Hanahaki and those who actually got with the person they had feelings for was not great. Then again, you checked five different medical websites and numerous forums and results varied wildly from place to place.
So you were just stuck with this. Coughing up stupid red rose petals again and again, all because you had the gall to like a guy. What a cruel world you lived in. It was absurd! You met the guy once! Spent a couple hours chatting while watching TV and that was it. What were the chances you were ever going to see him again? You just had to wait this out until your heart forgot about him.
Did suck to know that he must not have felt anything for you either. You had really thought you had some kind of connection.
A few more days went by and the cough wasn’t letting up. You didn’t want anyone at work knowing so you lied about having a slight cold and wore a mask to avoid questions. It was another normal day when you heard the door open. Glancing up from your notebook you saw who had walked in. Sylus!
The tickle in your throat started up again. A faint ray of hope shone down on you before being immediately crushed. Right behind him was that girl. The one that you saw coming in all the time with the other good looking guys. She was all oblivious smiles as she tugged on his arm towards one of the claw machines and you watched as Sylus’s expression softened at her touch, letting her pull on him toward the line of machines. It was the same look you had seen on every other guy that came in with this girl. You had seen enough love struck couples walk in and out of here to know exactly what was happening. He liked her.
She was the one that he had spent all that time and money on to win that stupid cake bunny plushie, wasn’t she? Fuck!
This girl had four different guys falling all over themselves and you couldn’t get one guy to look at you! This was beyond unfair! Why did it have to be this guy? Why did she have to add Sylus to her little harem? Would she not be satiated until she had every single good looking guy in the city fawning over her?
You took a deep breath in through the nose. You needed to stop. She was just a girl. Not her fault she’s cute and pretty and stuff. And Sylus didn’t owe you anything. He was just a stranger who had given you a ride home and made small talk with you for a couple hours. That was it. Still, it hurt. You turned around, coughing violently until you felt the wet velvet of a flower petal on your tongue. You tugged the mask down to spit out the petals and dropped them in the trash. This was a nightmare.
“Um…” you turned around at the sound of someone clearing their throat. It was the girl again. She gave you a bright smile. “Can I get some tokens please?”
“Yeah. Sorry about that.” you pulled the mask back up and exchanged the bills she gave you for tokens.
For the next hour or so you watched as Sylus and this girl went around winning prizes and playing games. You heard them mention getting lunch somewhere as they strolled to the exit. At least you didn’t have watch them any more.
As they were leaving though you saw Sylus turn his head and made direct eye contact with you. You straightened automatically. He gave you a polite smile and then he was gone with the girl.
You sighed. “I’m just an idiot, aren’t I?”
The day came to an end and you locked up the arcade. When you turned around you noticed a motorcycle pull up by the curb. He driver lifted the helmet off and you saw it was Sylus. “Glad I caught you.” he said. He fished something out of the storage compartment of the bike and held a bag out to you. “I washed the clothes you lent me. Here you go.”
“Oh,” you took the bag. “You really didn’t need to give them back. Not like I was going to miss them.”
He shrugged. “I don’t like being indebted to others.”
“Well, thanks.” you rocked on your heels. As he was pulling his helmet back on you felt a question flying off your tongue before you could swallow it back down. “I saw you come into the arcade earlier with a girl. Is she the friend you spent all that time winning that prize for?”
He looked up surprised. “Yes. She was very happy to have the toy but thought me ridiculous for spending so long to get it.”
“It just shows you’re persistent.” you forced a saccharine smile but realized he couldn’t see it behind the mask. “So is she like your girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Oh.” That made you feel a little better. “Then is she dating someone?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“It’s nothing. I just see her come in a lot with other guys and I figured one of them had to be her boyfriend.”
“Ah,” he nodded, “I have a feeling I know who you are talking about.”
Silence descended again. You wished he would just drive off so you could stop yourself from asking questions you knew would hurt you. “So…do you like her?”
“Yes.”
You swallowed back the urge to cough and throw up an entire bouquet of red roses. It felt like the roses in your lungs had spread to your heart and were constricting it with their thorny vines. One word from him and he had devastated you in ways you didn’t even know possible.
“Cool.” you said, your voice tight with control. “Well, good luck with that.”
You turned and started walking down the street, needing away from him before you did or said something else idiotic. Unfortunately he was not letting you off that easy.
“Do you need a lift home?” he called after you.
“No thank you. It isn’t raining tonight.” you said.
“But it is late and you don’t exactly live in the best part of the city.” he said, keeping pace with you on his motorcycle.
“Not as bad as the N109 zone at least.”
You could sense him watching you and when you turned to look at him he had the visor open and was giving you an unimpressed look.
“What?”
“I live in the N109 zone.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It isn’t for the weak.” he parked. “Now hop on already.”
Despite your best judgement you found yourself replying, “Fine.”
He dug the spare helmet out and passed it to you. You hopped on the back of the bike and held onto him as he drive you home once again. Without the rain pouring down on you, you could focus on the ride more. The lights of the city flashed by you so fast they looked like ribbons trailing behind you. Then there was Sylus who was so warm against you. You wanted this drive to never end.
When you got to your apartment building you handed him the helmet back. “Thanks again for the ride. Now I owe you one.”
“I’ll be sure to cash in in the form of you looking the other way when I use my evol to win arcade games.” he said with that smirk that made your insides melt and your lungs constrict. “Now go inside, turn on your light so I know you got in.”
“How like a mother hen of you.” you teased. “See you.” You bounded up the steps and got to your apartment. You turned on the light and went to the window. You saw Sylus down below give you a thumbs up and then he drove off.
The moment he was gone you doubled over and started coughing again, more petals falling from your lips. “These feelings aren’t going away any time soon, aren’t they?”
You were right. Your feelings did not go away as you had hoped they might have. After that night he drove you home again your feelings only continued to grow. This strange little thing became a more common occurrence.
Sylus would come by the arcade with the pretty girl every once in a while to play games and such. Then when evening came and you were locking up, he’d be waiting on the curb to drive you home. You tried not to think anything about it. Tried to tell yourself that he was just being kind. That he was just doing it to keep you in his good graces so you didn’t fine him for using his evol on the machines.
But the hopeless romantic in you saw something else in all his little gestures. Sometimes you would invite him in for coffee or tea and he’d join you for a bit inside. You’d chat as you sipped and then he’d have to leave. Most of the time when you got back to the apartment he’d stay outside and wait for you to turn on the light before driving off. But even that little act of making sure you got inside safely made your heart flutter.
Your weird little friendship was only making you fall harder and harder. And the harder you fell the worse the Hanahaki got. You had finally hit the stage where instead of a couple of petals you were coughing up entire rose heads. Thankfully they were small buds and not huge in full bloom blossoms but it didn’t make them hurt less.
Somehow you had gotten away with keeping your Hanahaki a secret from Sylus. You knew it was only a matter of time till he figured it out though. You had barely been able to cover your tracks and you could tell he was getting suspicious.
Finally you realized that you had to just bite the bullet and tell him about your feelings and the Hanahaki. You knew the chances of him reciprocating were slim to none. He had feelings for someone else but at least it would be off your chest. Maybe then you could finally move on.
It was another day and once again Sylus had driven you home. You turned to go inside but stopped and steeled yourself to tell him how you felt. When you looked back at him though he was tapping his finger quickly on the handle of the bike. “Something wrong? You look antsy.” you said.
“I’m just in a bit of a hurry.” he said.
Your heart clenched painfully, or maybe that was your lungs. “Going to meet your little girlfriend?” you teased, despite the ache in your chest.
He scoffed, “You don’t want to know my business, honey bee. Now head inside.”
“Alright. You get going if you’re in such a hurry.” you ushered him off.
He glanced at his watch and sighed. “Yeah. See you later.”
He took off down the street going far faster than the speed limit allowed. One of these days you were going to have to talk to him about not speeding. Even if he did have some kind of weird advanced healing factor it wasn’t safe for others for him to be going that fast.
You sighed. Your lungs ached as another flower decided it wanted to pop out. Fuck!
You coughed your way up the stairs to your apartment, finally spitting out the little red bulb. Did it look more in bloom than normal? “Well that’s just great.” you muttered. “Guess that’s my punishment for not saying anything. Maybe next time.”
You automatically reached to grab your key from your bag and immediately realized you had left your purse in the storage compartment of Sylus’s bike! Damn it! You grabbed the knob of your apartment door, knowing it wouldn’t open but frustration wanted you to try. You turned the knob and…the door opened! Did you forget to lock it before you left? That was careless but fortunate.
You stepped inside trying to figure out a way to tell Sylus he had your purse if you didn’t have your phone. It was probably why you didn’t notice the shadows at first. Not until you kicked off your shoes and your brain caught up, making out three large figures clad in black standing in your living room.
“Don’t make a fuss and this won’t be a problem.” one of them said.
You immediately turned to run back out the door but the figures lunged, grabbing hold of you before you could turn the handle. Someone hit the back of your head and it made you so dizzy you pitched forward, eyes rolling back into your head.
You couldn’t say when you came to again. There was some kind of bag over your head and you were aware you were in a car, could feel it bumping along down a road. Your head ached and you felt a stickiness at the back of your neck that you couldn’t discern as being blood or sweat. When the car came to a stop you were pulled out and walked somewhere. Even with the bag over your head you felt yourself swaying with dizziness.
Why was this happening? Were you being kidnapped? Trafficked? For what reason could someone want to kidnap you from your home?
You were sat down and tied to chair before the hood finally came off. You could tell pretty instantly you were in some abandoned old factory building. The figures that had kidnapped you were standing around you, two were men and one was a woman.
“What…what is going on?” you said, forcing your thoughts to stay straight. “Why did you kidnap me?”
“Don’t worry,” the woman said, “We’ll let you go once your boyfriend pays the ransom we send.”
“Boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend.” you told them.
“You do.” one of them, a burly building of a man, gruffed at you. “No point trying to play dumb.”
“I’m not playing dumb. I don’t have a boyfriend. Whoever you think I am, I’m not the person you’re looking for.” you snapped at them. “Please, just let me go.”
“We saw him drop you off.” the woman said. “The leader of Onychinus.”
You wanted to question what they meant by Onychinus, you were sure you heard the name before. You were bad about keeping up with the news so you couldn’t say what it meant at the time. It was the other part that caught your attention though, they said they saw your boyfriend drop you off at your house.
Oh dear god above! “You mean Sylus?” you asked. Their gazes hardened.
“See. You do know who we are talking about.” the woman nodded to the more wiry man on her left. “And you wanted to grab the other girl.”
“Sylus isn’t my boyfriend you idiots!” you seethed. At the same time the statement made your lungs spasm. Shit! Not this too!
“We’ve been tracking him for a while and we have noticed time and time again that he drives you home, even comes inside. There’s no point denying it.”
“I’m not denying him taking me home. I’m denying him being my boyfriend. We’re just friends.” coughs wracked your body. You gasped around the flower pushing itself up your throat. “We’re--we--” more coughs shook you, “are nothing. I mean nothing to him.”
“You can say that as many times as you want but we know--”
The woman was cut off as you finally coughed up the flower and spit it onto the floor. All three of them froze as you took in ragged breaths.
“What the fuck is this?” the wiry one kicked the flower. “Do you have Hanahaki?”
“What gave it away, dumbass?” you muttered. “I told you. He’s not my boyfriend. I like him but…but he doesn’t like me. He has feelings for someone else.”
“Shit!” the woman continued to curse. “We grabbed the wrong one?”
“Told you.” the wiry man said.
“Shut it!” the woman snapped at him.
“What now, boss?” the burly man asked. “We can still try ransoming her if they’re friends.”
“You think he’s going to care that much about her worthless little life? There’s every chance he’ll just let us kill her if we send him a ransom.” the woman tsked. “Might as well keep ourselves off his radar until we get the right girl. Let’s just kill her now and move on.”
“Wait!” you screeched, “Wait please! You don’t have to kill me! I promise I won’t say anything if you let me go. Please!”
“We’re not taking that chance.” she leveled the gun she was carrying at you and a loud bang echoed in the room.
You closed your eyes, tears streaming down your face as the realization hit you that you were going to die in the moment. Was this really how it ended? Executed over a case of mistaken identity and a crush on a guy you met at work?
You waited and waited for the bullet to strike but you didn’t feel any pain. Maybe she shot you through the head and didn’t even get a chance to feel the pain. Maybe your brain was stretching out these last couple of seconds of your life. Maybe you were already dead.
Then you heard more loud bangs and your eyes snapped open. You were still in the warehouse. You weren’t dead! But then what--
You looked up and saw that Sylus and the pretty girl from the arcade were there. The three people who had kidnapped you laid on the floor, whether they were unconscious or dead was unclear. There was a tiny clink of metal and you saw a bullet fall to the ground and roll towards your feet. Had it just stopped halfway?
“You check her, I’ll get these guys.” the girl said and leaned down to check the kidnappers for a pulse. You really needed to learn her name at some point.
You felt the restraints holding you loosen and fall. Sylus walked over and knelt down in front of you. “You alright?”
“I…” without the restraints keeping you up you fell forward. Sylus caught you and sat you down on the ground. You relaxed into his arms, taking several deep breaths to still the shaking. “Sorry. What happened? How did you know I was here?”
He held up your purse. “You forgot this in my bike. I turned around to run it back to you and saw a van careen away from the apartment building. When I went up to your apartment the door was open and the inside looked like it had been ransacked. So, I called in some back up and found where that van had taken off to.”
“She a co-worker of yours or something too?” you asked.
“We actually operate on opposite sides of the law.” he shrugged. His gaze went to the flower on the floor. “What was this for?”
Your face burned. There was too much going on right now.
“Honey bee,” he turned your face to his, “Why did they kidnap you?”
“They thought I was your girlfriend. They wanted to ransom me back to you.” you said. “And the flower…I coughed it up.”
“You have--”
“Yes.” you almost wished the bullet had killed you so you didn’t need to have this conversation. “We don’t need to get into it.”
“Hanahaki is nothing to be embarrassed about.” he said. He glanced over at the girl who was stepping away to make a call for backup to come arrest the kidnappers. Sylus looked back at you, talking quietly. “I had it too.”
“Really?” you should have guessed as much considering how much he seemed to like this girl.
“I was coughing up bleeding hearts for months.” he sighed. “They’re small but still not fun to constantly be coughing up flowers.”
“You said you ‘had’ it. Does that mean pretty girl finally returned your feelings?” you could feel an entire bouquet of flowers about to erupt from your throat just thinking about it.
“No.” Sylus answered.
Your eyebrows shot up on your forehead. “Then, you got the surgery?”
“Also no.”
“Then what happened?”
“I…” he held you a little tighter, “I started coughing up pink peony petals instead.”
“Hanahaki can just change flowers in the middle of the disease?”
Sylus shook his head with a dry laugh. “No. As far as I am aware, the flowers are individual to the person the unrequited love is for.”
“Then who is it that you…” realization and a spark of hope started to rise in you.
He gave you a small smile. “I think we have a lot to talk about, honey bee.”
#love and deepspace#lads sylus#sylus x reader#hanahaki#letterbox prompt#i can't not give happy endings! it's just too sad otherwise!
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another social casualty
Characters: golden boy!Jaehyun & loner!female reader
Setting & genre: hurt/comfort, coming of age, high school au
Summary: One fears not being lovable, the other fears losing people. Two lonely souls find each other.
Warnings: mentions of academic, parental and peer pressure, loneliness, nosebleed, past friendship fallout, abandonment issues (MC’s father left), anxiety, medication, crying, the romance is very slow burn, it’s more like finding safe haven in each other?
Words: 8.8k
Author’s note: title from the 5SOS song, though i listened to a whole lot of Keshi and Conan Gray while writing this. heavily inspired by Jaehyun’s crazy academic background and how he said he was in a dark place before joining KOZ, i can’t find the entire list of his school activities but here and here are some. header pic of Jaehyun is from starry-eyed
@restlessmaknae you chose this as the one you would be most interested in from my list, so i hope it doesn’t disappoint!
i did not expect to finish this before 2024 ends but here it is. wishing all my readers a 2025 spent with joy, in health, happy new year! <3
→ BEFORE
Myung Jaehyun is a people pleaser.
You can tell because you used to be the same. Not anymore. Still, you can’t look away because it’s like watching a train wreck. Terrible because you can see the cracks in his personality but intriguing at the same time. Just how much a person can mold their own material to make them fit into pre-shaped places? How can they make themselves smaller if there’s not enough space for them? It’s rush hour metro effect: one can always bend and push and press enough to squeeze inside, to turn into something they are not. This is how you become part of the machine.
You have been there. Now you prefer to be an observer. Now you don’t fake laughs over things you don’t find funny just to not hurt somebody else’s feelings. Now you rather sit alone at the canteen during lunch hour instead of pretending to be somebody you’re not just to be welcomed at a popular table. Now you prefer to be invisible rather than seen and judged. Ghosts have it better off in high schools.
Myung Jaehyun doesn’t seem to know that yet.
The first time you really saw Jaehyun, the principal called him in front of the lined up classes during the school year starting ceremony and pinned a badge with the title ‘school president’ onto his uniform. You looked up from the creases of the back of your classmate’s white shirt in front of you to see a boy on the podium as rigid as the pole with the Korean flag. His dress jacket was perfectly ironed, necktie tucked in, no wrinkles in his entire attire. Not even a piece of hair was out of place. He stood there, in front of the entire school, tall and proud, as an example just like the principal called him while listing all his achievements. He was not only a straight A student, a member of the student council and the vice president of the Economics and Business Management club but he also proved his worth as part of the football team and representing the school in various regional writing competitions. The list went on and on, Principal Lee was really emphasizing just how much he wanted to have more students like him, dedicated and hard-working ones, at the school, but you tuned out everything after the first few sentences. Myung Jaehyun caught your attention not because of the way the silver badge shone on his chest or the way he kept his eyes strictly on one point ahead, mouth pressed in a firm line, but rather because of the way his fingers twitched by his sides. When you looked closer, you could tell he was picking at the skin around his nail, a nervous habit. Everything about him was proper and perfect except that.
Ever since then it hasn’t been hard to notice him. Although you don’t share a class, with all his clubs and one too many responsibilities he is kind of everywhere. He’s announcing details about the upcoming annual trip on the school radio, he’s on the top of the list that’s pinned in the school hall about the midterm results, he’s holding a trophy in a photograph for the vitrine in the hallways that lead up to the school gym.
It’s not like you’re watching him. There’s nothing weird or stalkerish in it. You’re not even like the girls who whisper scream his name when he walks by and wonder if they should ask him out. You just notice him and observe. You keep looking for flaws in his picture perfect demeanor. You look for signs that there’s a human beneath that machine he seems to be. You just watch him from a distance and you’re content with that.
Until he notices you too.
→ SEPTEMBER
It happens on a Friday evening, early in the new term, long after the last classes ended, so the school library is pretty empty. You don’t like crowds, so you prefer to visit when most students have already retreated. This way you can also avoid running into people you don’t want to meet. You greet the tired librarian by the door with a bow and with your bag hanging from your shoulder, you head straight towards the Literature section because of an essay you have to write. It isn’t due for a week more but you don’t like to leave things to the last minute purely because of the stress that rushing brings. You trace the spines of the books with your fingertip as you walk past them, searching for a specific author and when you find it, you grab it from the shelf. You press it to your chest and slip out on the other side of the aisle, ready to head back towards the librarian’s desk when you hear a sniffle. You look up, towards the source of the sound and see him.
Myung Jaehyun is sitting at one of the tables in the back, hunched over text books. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand and it comes back red. It’s vivid like a blaring warning sign and your gut twists as the school president scrambles to hold off his nosebleed before it would get everywhere. His movements seem frantic, almost panicked as he fumbles with the zipper of his backpack but he freezes in spot when he notices you watching. With two fingers pressing his nose, blood splotches on the sleeve of his immaculate white shirt, he stares at you wide eyed, just as frozen in place as you are.
You’re startled. The moment your eyes meet, you feel his gaze burn. You cast your eyes down and take a step backwards, ready to leave and pretend nothing happened. Because nothing did. But then you halt, thinking better off it. You swiftly reach into the front pocket of your bag and take out a small packet of tissues and a piece of chocolate you always keep with yourself in case your blood sugar dipped. You can feel Myung Jaehyun’s eyes on you the entire time you walk up to his desk. Realistically speaking it doesn’t take more than a few seconds, it is six steps at max but it feels longer with his scalding attention on you. You’re not used to being watched, you’re a wallflower after all.
You put the tissues and chocolate down on the table and turn around to leave. You don’t wait for the boy’s reaction. You don’t even look at him. You don’t stop when he calls after you. You leave as quickly as you came. Blend back into the shadows where you like to be.
Myung Jaehyun doesn’t let you though.
Next week when you leave your classroom on Tuesday, he’s out in the corridor in front of the door, waiting. For you. There’s not much guessing about it since you are the last one in the class, everybody else having somewhere to run off and here you are, taking your time. You only falter for a moment when you step over the threshold and take in the sight of the school president in all his glory. Then you look down onto the laminated floor and turn down the corridor.
Jaehyun pushes himself away from the window frame he has been leaning against so far and catches up to you fast.
“Wait,” he calls after you, his voice is an echo of the sound he made back in the library.
Thinking back on it twists your gut uncomfortably as you remember the blood and how the boy looked at you like he never received kindness from a stranger. Much to your dislike, you slow your steps and eventually come to a halt when you realize you can’t just brush off the boy’s presence, so you decide it’s better to get over with. You look up at him questioningly, nails digging into the straps of your backpack as you wait.
“Can we talk?” Jaehyun asks, polite like anytime you heard him talk and he looks relieved that he doesn’t have to chase you down. His tie is a little crooked today but other than that there’s nothing out of place about him. Although from this close you see the dark circles under his eyes and can’t help but wonder how much he slept last night and the night before that. He has always had the best score but it didn’t stop him from running himself thin last week if the nosebleed is anything to go by.
“If you’re worried about what happened in the library, don’t. I won’t tell anybody,” you shrug because why would you? He certainly isn’t the first senior who drives himself over his own breaking point. You had heard stories about hospital IV dip visits, students fainting after handing in their papers and ‘vitamins’ passed around before exam week. The stakes are high. The competition to get into a Seoul university, especially a SKY one is cutthroat and you know that the school president aims for that. Everybody expects him to do so. With his list of achievements and history of high scores, it sounds viable. But at what price?
“It’s not that,” Myung Jaehyun protests but despite his words his shoulders visibly go slack with relief. You can tell that he cares a lot about his reputation and it sure would have left a stain if people knew that the all so perfect school president was human too, bleeding from academic pressure right on his homework. You grimace at the thought.
“You don’t owe me anything either,” you clarify because you never expected anything in return for being a decent human being and you don’t know what else he could possibly want.
“But…”
“Really. Just forget it,” you sigh, tired of arguing already. The boy looks conflicted under his wavy fringe, almost like a puppy before schooling his expression and clearing his throat.
“Thanks anyway,” he says before stepping out of your way, so you can keep going and you do. You move on with your life, watching from the sidelines as he receives praise for his participation in a regional essay contest and when the football team returns with another hard earned win.
Days pass in a blur. Like they always did. Just another day to get through. Just another week. Just another term. Gosh, you can’t wait for high school to end. You have had enough of seeing these people.
On Monday you make eye contact with Mijoo when you come out of a stall in the girls’ bathroom and she’s in front of the mirror fixing her already perfect makeup. She used to not do that, care too much about her appearance, not before she befriended Kim Soyeon. Now you awkwardly hold eye contact for one, two, three seconds and then she looks away. You’re the one who walks away just like you did before but it doesn’t make it easier. There’s something hollow and painful in your chest, still missing something you once had.
Three days later your mother asks you about school while you help clean the tables at the café. She asks about the midterms and if you’re still friends with ‘that ponytail girl’. The reminder feels like a slap and your throat closes up.
On Friday you skip out on lunch hour and spend it lying on the bench in the yard, staring at the sky. You’re caught like that when it starts to rain. You watch it through spread fingers as the first raindrops fall then close your eyes and smile. You have always loved the rain and even though it’s impractical to get soaked in the middle of the school day, you can always change into your PE clothes, you reason.
But then the rain stops. You can’t feel the cold drops on you even though you hear the rhythmic sound of them hitting the ground and you pry your eyes open only to see Myung Jaehyun standing above you with an umbrella held over you. You shoot up into a sitting position quickly, then stand up and smooth down your uniform. Not necessarily because you’re embarrassed but because you hate being a burden to others and while you didn’t ask for his help, based on his persistence from last time you know he wouldn’t have just left no matter what you told him. Hell, he even moves to shrug off his jacket before you stop him.
“It’s okay. I have a change of clothes inside,” you explain but there’s no arguing with the school president about walking you inside. You can tell he wants to ask you something but you don’t give him a chance to. Once you are between four walls, you mutter out a polite thanks and then head to your classroom.
→ OCTOBER
On another Friday evening, Myung Jaehyun asks if he can sit at your table in the near empty library. You don’t understand what he’s getting at, so you just shrug, still focused on your homework. When you steal a glance at the boy on the other side of the table, you see him go over pages of ink writing, highlighting certain parts. There’s torn and nipped skin around his thumb nail. You turn back to your workbook before he could notice that you were looking.
“Are you coming to the school trip?” The boy asks when half an hour later you start packing your bag. The question surprises you because he shouldn’t care. He doesn’t even know you.
“No,” you answer curtly, not going into details. He doesn’t need to know that you’ve always been a homebody and you don’t enjoy social interactions, especially not school-related ones. But Jaehyun is stubborn and curious a bit too much.
“Why not?” He asks and you sigh.
“It’s not really my scene. I don’t want to spend more time around my classmates than I have to,” you shrug nonchalantly but there must be something in your voice that gives you away because the boy furrows his brows in worry.
“Did something happen?”
“No,” you lie or well, not really. Technically, nothing really happened regarding the trip. But if things were like they were a year ago, you would be excited about going with Mijoo. Things just change, people too. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.
“You’re always alone,” Jaehyun says in a quiet voice in the library’s dead still silence. He says it like it was something you should be sad about. A part of you wants to question whether he had been stalking you to notice that but that would have been rich coming from you who had been watching him from afar all along, so you decide against it.
“Yes. I prefer that way,” you tell him instead and it’s true. Better alone than with fake friends. Yet, the boy can’t even seem to fathom the idea.
“You can’t mean that,” he mutters with widened eyes and it leaves you with something bitter in your gut.
Can’t you? Just because a pretty boy runs himself thin to get everybody’s appreciation, can’t you want some peace of mind alone?
“Not everybody needs constant validation,” you snap at him and it comes out harsher than intended. You can see the hurt mirrored in Jaehyun’s eyes but you don’t let yourself linger on it as you hoist your bag up to your shoulder. “Don’t make me your charity case.”
“I don’t… I’m not…”
The always so eloquent Myung Jaehyun seems speechless now but you don’t wait for him to figure out what he wants to deny more, whether he can at all. You leave him there at the table. You’re good at that: leaving. Better be the one doing it than being the one left behind.
It’s been four years since you last saw your father. A part of you misses him, or at least the idea of a reliable father. At first you had been angry at your mother for giving him an ultimatum but then realized that at the end of the day, it wasn’t her fault. It was your father who chose his gambling addiction over you. So maybe you were better off without him.
It was around that time too when you realized that being left short on money limited your future opportunities. Not that you ever dreamed about going abroad or attending the best schools in the country. You didn’t even know what you wanted to do with your life and it sounded stupid, spending so much money on education just because everybody else was doing it around you. You started helping out your mom at the café then too, so she wouldn’t have to hire another part-timer and even though now, when things are better, your mother tries to convince you from time to time to go to after school studies instead of wiping tables and washing dishes, you don’t mind doing it. You can choose the melody coming from the old retro music box, help her come up with decoration ideas for holiday seasons and taste test new baked goods. You also take your role as her social media manager very seriously, posting aesthetic photos on Instagram periodically. It’s a simple life, a comfortable one and you’re content with it.
Your homeroom teacher not so much.
He called you into the teachers’ office to talk and you already knew why. It made it a bit easier to brace yourself for the impact of his words. Him asking about the reasons why you didn’t apply to any university. He doesn’t accept your answer and your satisfaction easily, he pushes relentlessly, telling you that you would regret it one day but you know it’s not about your future, it’s about the school’s yearly statistics. You tune out most of his speech, focusing on a loose thread of his worn knitted sweater, of the low hum of the coffee machine in the back and the printer coughing up papers. Then a familiar voice reaches your ear and you glance over the cubicle wall to see Myung Jaehyun with a punch of papers in his arm. His homeroom teacher pats him on the shoulder, proud, and for a moment you wonder how the boy feels about it.
“Y/N! Are you even listening?” Your own teacher chides and you avert your gaze back to the man but in your peripheral view, you can see the school president turn towards you just when Mr Hong clicks his tongue in annoyance. “It’s always the ones without fathers. They lack discipline.”
His words burn you deeper than expected. Him blaming something like this on your lack of father, on your mother’s loving care and hard work essentially. It makes you clench your hands in fists by your sides until you’re dismissed with a resigned promise to think about it.
When you finally leave the teachers’ office, Jaehyun waits outside. His eyes are gentle and a little sad but not pitying as he asks:
“Are you okay?”
“I will be,” you nod because it’s not a big thing, you will get over it. Jaehyun doesn’t press and you’re grateful for that.
You don’t know when it happens and how. Letting down your guard around Myung Jaehyun of all people. It happens gradually like the trees changing their green leaves to more colourful attire. You’re very different: he cares too much about his grades and image and you care too little. He has all these big ambitions and you have none. He basks in glory in front of the school and you let out a sigh of relief when you can get over a day without anybody talking to you.
You have never stopped looking at Jaehyun though. You see him in the corridor, tall and proud and confident. You see him celebrated for his achievements on the school podium and even in the canteen surrounded by all his so-called friends and admirers. The difference is that lately he has been looking back. His gaze meets yours in the busy canteen when you sit at a table with strangers like you usually do if there’s no empty table. Your eyes meet in the hall when you arrive two minutes before the bell rings and he’s on gate duty. He never talks to you, never approaches you and it makes it easier to relax in his company, knowing that he wouldn’t bring unwanted attention to you.
He finds you in the almost empty library though, sits at your table in silence and minding his own business. He doesn’t bring up the trip again and you don’t call him out on his unusual behaviour either. You just exist in the same space, without judgement, without expectations. It’s actually quite nice.
It gives you the push to go up to him too when you see him alone at your usual table in the library on a Thursday late afternoon. As you get closer you see a brochure for Seoul National University open in front of him and that he’s reading a book about writing personal statements and study plans for college applications.
“So SNU?” You ask quietly enough not to startle him as you slip into the seat across from him.
Jaehyun looks up, his hair a bit messy, probably from running his hand through it more than usual but you like this look on him. Not being oh so perfect makes him seem more approachable.
“Yeah. What about you?” He inquires, trying to make a conversation probably because you didn’t hear the beginning of your conversation with your homeroom teacher back in the teachers’ office. You used to be nervous when people asked such loaded questions, afraid of disappointing them but once you accepted that their opinion didn’t matter more than yours, it all became easier.
“Oh, I won’t go to university.”
“What? Why?” The school president’s eyes widen in surprise as if he couldn’t even imagine that and maybe he can’t. With the competitive job market of Korea, people are made to feel like they worth nothing without a degree but you never dreamed of a white collared job, so you don’t care about that. There are many respectable ways to live without pursuing higher education.
“I don’t need a university degree to help out at my mom’s café,” you explain matter-of-factly and then out of curiosity you look up at Jaehyun, the boy who picks on his skin and works hard until he gets nosebleed, who is always number one and the teachers’ favourite yet never really smiles. “Why? Is it really you who wants to go to SNU?”
“Of course it’s me! Who else would it be?” Jaehyun’s voice pitches higher than usual, his tone defensive. You quirk a brow, not deeming necessary to answer. It could be his parents, his teachers, the society. He must realize it too because he cast his eyes down and his fingers twitch nervously over the papers in front of him.
After a few minutes of silent shuffling around, his phone buzzes and he curses under his breath, hastily packing his bag.
“I have practice. Sorry,” he apologises, which must be a force of habit because it’s not like you agreed to hang out, nor it’s like he should be sorry for leaving early.
You just nod at him, thinking of the pressure he must have on him with all these responsibilities of which you barely see a fraction. And if you take a detour to pass by the football field on your way out of school, it’s only for you to know. You can’t help it, you get too curious for your own good sometimes and you wonder how the school president is when he plays. It’s easy to spot him when you stop to watch a bit. It’s just practice but you can see how hard he tries, how he pushes his own limits. Running and running until he can’t. He doesn’t seem to do anything half-heartedly. He’s like a flame, burning bright, but you wonder just how long could his passion last before he burns out.
“You know, for somebody who doesn't plan on going to university, you’re here a lot,” Jaehyun mentions one time after he opens his Ethics book. There’s a question hidden in his statement but you don’t mind it as much as you thought you would.
“My mom doesn’t let me help out on school days and I like it here better than in the empty house,” you admit because no matter how much you like being alone, an empty, cold house has a different feel. This way your mom also has the illusion that you have friends to hang out or study with after school and doesn’t worry about you that much. Half of the time you don’t even do homework, just grab a book and read.
Jaehyun hums and stays quiet for a while but you can tell he lingers, he hasn’t flipped a page in the book in front of him for ages. You wait patiently for him to speak up, for his gaze guiding to your features again, tentatively this time.
“Do you… really don’t mind being alone? Aren’t you like… afraid of not having anybody in your life? Of being lonely?” He questions and you aren’t sure what happened that prompted him to ask about that but you would be the last person to judge him after voicing out fears so human.
“I’m more afraid of losing myself while trying to make myself digestible for others and I don’t like the idea of people leaving. It’s easier to avoid that if you don’t get attached,” you answer the best you can without sharing too many details, too many scars of your past. It already feels a bit too much, a bit too personal. You aren’t exactly friends after all. He’s just a boy who sometimes sits at your table. It’s not like you would see each other after graduation, it’s safe.
“Digestible?” Jaehyun mumbles, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Everybody does it. They pretend to be somebody they aren’t, so others would like them,” you explain but the boy shakes his head, not exactly in disagreement though.
“You make it sound so bad. But what’s so wrong about only showing your better sides to other people?”
You don’t answer right away. Just look into Jaehyun’s eyes, letting your gaze linger over his dark circles and the bitten ends of his nails. You sigh, quietly.
“Isn’t it tiring? Being in somebody else’s skin just to be liked?”
Jaehyun could argue that it’s still his skin, that it’s just a better version of himself and you would let him. If he wanted to hide his flaws and imperfections, he has every right and you wouldn’t tell him not to do it because you know how scary it’s to bare yourself in front of somebody else and it’s not like you’re not hiding parts of yourself, it’s just easier to not have anybody around you close enough to see them.
→ NOVEMBER
CSAT exams are approaching fast: students get busier, teachers try to squeeze in just one more type of question in their classes and you can tell that everybody’s nerves are fizzled. One would think that the school president with his consistently high scores is calm and prepared but you know Jaehyun better than to believe that facade. Still, you don’t expect to catch him on a call with his mother when you leave the football field’s bleachers. These days the school library is full of people day and night, too busy, too stressful, so you prefer killing time on the white painted benches as long as the weather’s not too cold. You don’t mean to eavesdrop, you just halt in your steps when you hear Jaehyun’s voice, unsure of what to do.
“Everything’s okay, mom. Yeah, you don’t have to worry, I’m doing fine.”
His voice is cheerful but you can tell that it’s fake. You can hear him let out a deep breath when he lowers the phone in his hand. He isn’t fine. He has been running himself paper thin. Barely eating, barely sleeping. His hands tremble as he takes the pills. Whether it’s supplements or medicine for stress you never asked. He says it’s only until the CSAT is over. He says it like it’s natural, like it’s a rite of passage everybody goes through.
When you step out of the wall’s cover and Jaehyun sees you, he momentarily tenses before relaxing. You have already seen him in moments of weakness, he knows he doesn’t have to pretend in front of you.
He walks you to the bus stop before going back to squeeze in one more hour of studying before his body would give up on him. You think about stopping him, about telling him not to overdo it but you know that he’s smart enough to know he’s burning the candle on both ends and it could end badly. It also feels unfair of you to tell him to stop when you could never understand his ambitions, so it’s easy for you to say so. So instead of arguing about principles, or trying to stop him knowing it’s useless, you push a bottle of C-vitamin rich juice drink into his hands next morning when you meet by the school gates. It’s you saying that he isn’t alone without saying it. Because the thing is, he never was alone, not physically. But one can be lonely even when dozens of people surround them.
The day of exams is a nerve wracking one, even for you, who doesn’t care about it much because your future doesn’t depend on these scores. You can’t even fathom the pressure and how it feels for those who base their dreams on this one day. Your head is hurting from being in the stuffy classroom solving Maths problems and answering questions about paragraphs from classics all day but instead of heading straight home, you watch as students file out of the school in batches and then one by one. When Jaehyun steps outside of the building, he seems deep in thought and his hands are full of exam papers he’s still reading through. He doesn’t even notice you at first, not until you pull on the sleeve of his jacket. When your eyes meet, you realize that he looks beyond tired and anxious. It breaks your heart a little.
“How do you feel?” You ask carefully, taking the exam papers from his hands and folding them neatly, ready to be packed away.
“I thought I would be relieved that it’s finally over but I keep going back re-thinking my answers, wondering what if I messed it up,” the school president sighs deeply, a shaky little sound and he looks so worried with furrowed forehead and nervously tapping fingers that you have this urge to wrap him in a warm blanket and make sure he can be without worries just a bit.
“There’s nothing you can do about it now though. Maybe you should focus on something else,” you suggest, gently as you hand him back the papers and the boy nods, his fingers brushing yours as he takes it back.
“Yeah, you’re right. The regional football championship is on the corner and I need to write an essay for the school paper. Then there’s…”
“No, I meant…” You cut his anxious rambling off a little frustratedly but when you have Jaehyun’s deep brown eyes on you, curious and confused, you suddenly feel awkwardness sweep into your bones at your silly little idea. Nevertheless, you push through it. “If you’re free this weekend, would you come with me somewhere?”
“Sure. Where are we going?” The boy doesn’t even hesitate even though he does sound a bit doubtful for which you don’t blame him. It’s the first time you initiate any kind of planned program when it’s actually you who claims she just wants to be alone and doesn’t want to get close to anybody.
“You’ll see. I swear I’m not kidnapping you,” you clear your throat, a bit nervous now that Jaehyun’s full attention is on you so unabashedly.
“Very reassuring,” he laughs but it’s a little forced sound, the weight of the day still pulling him down, exhaustion slowly wearing him down. So after agreeing on the details like the meeting location and exact time, you usher him to go home and get some sleep.
You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything. It’s not even a friendly thing, it’s just a thing. A fun thing because you have never seen Jaehyun do anything just for fun. Almost like if it doesn’t count towards his final evaluation in life achievements, it wouldn’t make sense to do so. Or as if he wouldn’t deserve it, which is just sad. So you plan to take his mind off the CSAT results that should come out in a week or two and make sure that he relaxes a bit even if just for a few hours.
You meet up near the metro station and while you show the way, it’s admittedly a bit awkward at first, since neither of you is used to small talk between you. Luckily, the theatre where you bought tickets to a contemporary comedy isn’t far and Jaehyun’s reaction is positively taken aback when you lead him to the entrance.
“Do you like it?” You inquire tentatively, trying to assess his reaction but it’s not easy Jaehyun looks more dumbfounded than anything.
“Yeah, but… how did you know?” He blinks at you a little awed.
“You’re applying to SNU’s Literature and Theatre department. It wasn’t that big of a guess that you appreciate theatre plays,” you shrug, trying to play it off coolly as you line up for ticket inspection.
Since it’s a smaller, more local theatre you don’t look that out of place even though you’re definitely one of the youngests in the audience. Luckily, the play is as funny as the reviews claimed it to be, so you have a good time and from the looks of it, Jaehyun too. It’s the first time you see him smile, really smile without forcing it, and you wonder why he’s hiding it. It’s a beautiful thing.
When the play ends, the boy insists on treating you to dessert as a celebration for getting over with the exams in exchange for the theatre ticket and sitting in the warm, already winter-decorated place, munching on brownie, the remaining awkwardness melts away. For the first time you don’t talk about school-related or heavy matters but rather things like your favourite season, sweet cravings in the colder weather, books you read and your families. It’s new and unfamiliar, a little scary because you can tell you’re getting attached but it’s nice and you decide to focus on that. You let Jaehyun walk you home because it’s late and dark, he reasons and there’s no arguing with him.
“See you at school,” he bids his goodbye when you arrive at the building where you live just above your mother’s cozy little café.
“Yeah. Take care,” you smile shyly and you can see a slow grin make its way to Jaehyun’s lips too. It looks genuine, just how he looks at ease as if some weight was lifted from his shoulders. It’s a good look on him.
→ DECEMBER
Frost is already decorating your window in the mornings when the CSAT results are delivered. Students are buzzing with anticipation and nerves. Once the scores are out, everybody’s guessing whether it will be enough for their first pick or they should scramble for extra points somehow. Most people accept their results eventually and get ready for the holidays instead. You know that Jaehyun did well enough to be hopeful, though you know better than to congratulate too early because SKY universities have much more complex acceptable criteria than other public universities. Not to mention, you know that even with great CSAT scores and good GPA, the competition for scholarships starts even before universities would notify the students about acceptance.
When you see Mijoo cry her eyes out in the girls’ bathroom, her mascara running down her pretty cheeks, something heavy settles in your chest. You haven’t talked in a year and you avoided each other after you got into that argument about how you wanted to live your lives but it would have felt wrong to just walk out without a word. For the sake of your happy memories before the fallout, you could still try to comfort her if she needed it.
“Are you okay?” You ask quietly, fully ready to be sneered at and sent away but your former best friend looks up at you with red rimmed eyes and relief.
“I will survive,” she lets out a shuddering exhale, her voice breaking between syllables. “My points are not good enough for a scholarship at Hankuk, so even if I do get in, I can’t enroll. We don’t have that kind of money. Soyeon and the others dropped me the moment they found out.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper and you mean it because even though you never wanted to go to university, you know how important it’s for Mijoo. More important than your friendship. And even though you have already warned her about what kind of person Soyeon is with her rich family and nicely paved future when they first started hanging out after hagwon, you don’t remind Mijoo that you told her so.
“No. I’m sorry,” she mutters and forces a hopeful smile looking at you. Slowly, you reciprocate it as you help her up. There is clearly something broken between you and it certainly can’t be fixed from one day to another but maybe it’s worth trying.
When Jaehyun asked about your winter break plans, you didn’t think he would make a visit at your mom’s café where you are now working most days. Usually it’s not you who interacts with customers, your mother and the part-timer handle it, so you’re quite surprised when Donghyun pokes his head into the kitchen and tells you that somebody is looking for you.
You’re confused but wipe your soapy hands and go outside only to see Jaehyun at one of the tables shyly waving at you. He wears a cute beanie that has snowflakes melting over the knitwear and his cheeks are tinted pink from the cold. But most importantly, he looks well rested.
“Hey,” you greet him when you reach his table and you can practically feel your mother’s curious gaze on you. “Donghyun said you were looking for me?”
“Uh, hi, yes. Actually I just asked if you were here but he said you would get you, so…” Jaehyun trails off with a casual shrug. “I hope it’s not weird that I’m here. I don’t want to be a bother.”
You hastily shake your head no.
“No! It’s okay, really. I hope you like it here,” you say and brush a piece of hair behind your ear a bit self-consciously. You love your mother’s place with your whole heart, so sharing it with him even if unintentionally feels a bit like sharing a part of yourself. But you don’t mind, you realize, not if it’s him.
“I do. Your mom makes a killer hot choco,” Jaehyun smiles softly and his compliment sounds so sincere, you can’t help but smile too.
“She will be delighted to hear that,” you note as you sneak a look at the boy’s mug which definitely has more marshmallows than the standard. You turn to look at the woman behind the counter but she just waves you off, not so subtly telling you to keep your friend company, the dirty dishes can wait.
So you end up sitting down by Jaehyun’s table, talking about how he spent Christmas with his family, visiting relatives in the countryside and bickering with his older brother while you tell him about your cozy Disney movie nights and eating too much of your mother’s holiday butter cake. It’s when Jaehyun leaves and you glance at his empty spot that you realize you would miss him after graduation and joke’s on you, really, because you were the one to first approach him. You should have known better if you weren’t ready for the consequences.
→ JANUARY
The days leading up to graduation are a rollercoaster of emotion.
“So what’s with you and the school president?” Mijoo asks playfully on one of the last days of school when you’re eating together in the canteen and she catches sight of the boy with other football players as she follows your line of sight.
“Nothing,” you claim, bewildered, quickly averting your eyes back to your food, scrambling to find some excuse but Mijoo doesn’t even listen.
“Yeah, sure. I know your mother’s café is good but he’s practically a regular now,” she huffs and you start regretting that you told her that. “And don’t tell me it’s because he’s tutoring your part-timer during his shifts.”
You close your mouth without saying anything because you were just about to bring up how Jaehyun and Donghyun seem to get along, the school president helping out the junior student with his English.
“Not to mention, you went to his last football match and you don’t even like sports,” Mijoo continues and yeah, that’s on you. You even dragged her along (not that she needed much of a convincing) because you didn’t want to go alone, to be so out of your element and the girl was just happy to spend time with you again.
“I was just… curious,” you mumble, poking your tofu cubes with your chopsticks on your plate.
Seeing Jaehyun on the field was like seeing a different side of him. You know thanks to his stories that he liked football since he was a kid and he appreciates the teamwork aspect of the sport but watching him play during a match felt special. Sure, he still looked focused and determined, a bit uptight like he did when it came to his academics but after the winning goal point, being huddled by his teammates, he looked so proud. It’s a look he never allows himself when it comes to his individual success because he’s too hard on himself, as if he didn’t deserve it, as if he still should have done better. So you’re glad that you went, that you could see him genuinely be happy with his team over the win. Still, you slipped away without congratulating him, letting the school crowd surround him because he was supposed to be in the center of the attention and you wanted no part of that. You didn’t think Jaehyun noticed you, not until he shyly asked how you liked the game the next time you met.
“You know,” Mijoo speaks up thoughtfully, humming against her utensils before putting them down the metal tray and looking you in the eyes. “It’s okay to let people close. Even if it doesn’t last forever, wouldn’t that be still better than wondering about the what ifs?”
For the longest time you thought that no, it wouldn’t but you glance at Jaehyun and how he shines brighter than the Sun but hides so many moonlit parts of himself that you’re privileged to know and you think that maybe, just maybe it’s okay to let yourself be vulnerable with some people.
The last day of school brings so much snow that the entire school yard is covered in cloud-like white and even the teachers give up preaching about life lessons after lunch hour. A bunch of eighteen year olds run to the field as if you were still kids and it’s that moment when it dawns on you that maybe it’s really the last time you can be freely child-like without adult responsibilities would weigh you down. Maybe that’s why you don’t protest that much when Jaehyun finds you and drags you outside to join the fierce snowball battle. For once, you don’t care about the looks you might get, you don’t care about potentially being put in the center of attention just by being with him, you don’t care about what it means to your future and you have never felt lighter.
You have snow in your hair, cold sweeping into your bones through your soaked shoes and your cheeks still hurt from laughing when later Jaehyun suggests going to your mom’s for hot chocolate to warm up. You agree easily and follow him inside to get your stuff. You shake snow off your coat, trying to warm up your cold-bitten hands by rubbing them together when you notice that Jaehyun abruptly stopped beside you.
Confused, you turn back to look at him just to see him stare down at his phone, his smile long lost from his face. You’re not sure whether it’s your place to even ask what happened, not when Jaehyun finally meets your eyes and he looks like he just saw a ghost. All pale and eyes glossy.
“They…” He starts but his voice breaks before he could get the sentence out. “They rejected me.”
“What?” You ask, dumbfounded. You watch as a drop of snow slides down Jaehyun’s face, leaving a tear-like trace behind on his flushed face and your heart aches before you can really process what’s going on.
“SNU. I just got the rejection email,” the boy mutters and lets out a way too forced laughter. He reaches to his messy locks with trembling fingers, scattering snow everywhere as he takes a shaky breath and starts walking up and down anxiously.
You just stand there, frozen, your heart sinking at the sight of him. There’s frustration and disbelief and bitterness as a scoff scratches his throat. You can see him fighting tears, not wanting to fall apart, not here, not in front of you, maybe not ever.
It was his dream, getting into SNU, and everybody told him he could do it, that for him it would be easy and while it’s flattering, people’s trust in his abilities, it still put him on pedestal, under such pressure that it almost broke him and now you can see him being crushed down from the same weight.
You don’t know what makes you do that, from where you take the courage but suddenly you stand in front of him, stopping him in his pacing, and take his shaking hand in yours.
“How… how will I tell my parents? What‒” Jaehyun gasps for air and you can feel him squeeze your hand for support as he struggles to fill his lungs with oxygen. “What do I… do now? I don’t… I didn’t…”
“Shh,” you slide a hand over his nape, massaging the tight muscles there in a weak attempt to calm him down before he could drive himself into hyperventilation. He’s so tense from the sheer effort to not break down, tear drops clinging to his eyelashes, blurring his vision. “Just let go. It’s okay.”
“No,” Jaehyun pushes back, stubborn but he’s clinging to your hand like a lifeline.
“It is. It’s just me,” you insist because you don’t judge, not for this, never for something like this. “I’m here.”
That’s all it takes for Jaehyun to give in and his tears start falling. You can feel when tension leaves his body and he all but crashes into you, his broader form slumping against you with his forehead on your shoulder, crying into your neck. You put a hand over his back, rubbing soothing patterns against his spine.
You don’t know how long you stay there. You wait until Jaehyun’s quiet sobs die down and his breathing slowly normalizes, until he pulls away enough to look into your own teary eyes. You know you couldn’t say anything to calm the mess in his head because you can’t quite understand how much this lost opportunity means for him, so you don’t tell him frivolous things like how it’s not the end of the world.
“You will be okay,” you whisper, quiet and sacred like a wish. “You don’t have to figure out how, not right now.”
A week later you graduate.
Myung Jaehyun stands on the podium in front of the lines of students and seated parents. He has a pledge of honors students on his suit and a bouquet of flowers in hands, an offer from another still prestigious university in his inbox and his parents, proud, in the crowd. His speech makes you feel nostalgic and when your eyes meet, a small smile appears on his lips, imperfect but happy, so pretty. You watch him and feel yourself smile too. Maybe it’s not actually that bad; being seen.
→ AFTER
Contrary to what you expected, Jaehyun stays as a permanent fixture in your days even after graduation. He hangs out at the café, sometimes stays even after closing, helping you put the chairs onto the tables and watching you learn how to make coffee and latte art. Sometimes you go to theatre plays or to the cinema, he invites you out to help him buy a present for his mother and then buys you hotteok as thanks.
Then university starts and he gets busier but you can tell that he doesn’t let school work bury him under like it did in high school. It’s good for him, starting fresh in a place where nobody knows him and his perfect student reputation. It’s less pressure on him and he can form genuine friendships without the fear that he’s approached only because of his influence as school president or his diligent note taking.
“I met this guy in Sociology class and he just asked if I wanted to be friends out of the blue. He invited me to hang out with him and his friends over the weekend. It was so random but it felt nice,” he says one day, leaning against the mop in his hands. You hum, letting him know that you’re listening even while cleaning the countertop. Apparently he and Sungho bonded over football, so they made plans to play one of these days.
“That’s good. You love football,” you note lightheartedly when you move to take the mop from him, checking if he missed any spots but of course he didn’t.
“Yeah,” Jaehyun hums, fixing his hair now that his hands are free and he turns after you when you walk farther to put the cleaning tools away. “I wanted to ask if maybe you wanna come along? To watch?”
You freeze, avoiding looking at the boy. You do want to watch him play but being with strangers isn’t really something you’re comfortable with, even if he’s there, even if he says they’re cool. Jaehyun knows you enough though and he can tell you hesitate, so he adds:
“You can bring Mijoo too if you want. And I’m thinking of inviting Donghyun too because Sungho also has younger friends.”
Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad. At least you would know people other than Jaehyun too. Maybe it would be fun.
“I will think about it,” you promise and Jaehyun beams almost as if you already said yes. He’s humming along to the music from the radio while you make sure everything is ready for closing. These days your mother lets you do so a few days a week just as she’s more comfortable with the idea of actually employing you.
Once the lights are switched off and the door is closed, Jaehyun walks you to the staircase leading to the upper floors where you live and for some reason he looks nervous standing in front of you. You lift your hand to wave him goodbye and tell him to take care on his way home like always but he beats you to it with a rushed out question.
“Do you wanna go to the movies this Friday after your shift?”
“Yeah, sure,” you reply easily, without hesitation because it’s him, just him, and you’re comfortable with him even if he sometimes makes your heart beat irregularly. Like right now when he blinks, all puppy-like and licks his dry lips to clarify.
“I mean… like a date?”
“Oh,” you mumble and feel air punched out of your chest as you process the information along with the unsure tilt of Jaehyun’s words. He really does look nervous. You make him nervous.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to make things weird between us but sometimes it already feels like we’re dating and I have to stop myself from holding your hand or… khm, so like I just wanted to put it out there,” he stops his own rambling, eyes darting everywhere before finally settling on you, his words filling you with warmth. “That I like you.”
“Okay,” you let out a long exhale, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your light cardigan, then clear your throat. “What… what are we watching?”
“Wait, is that a yes? To the date?” Jaehyun asks with widened eyes and a grin so wide you can’t help but chuckle fondly.
“Yeah,” you nod shyly, pink painting your cheeks under the yellow hue of the lights. “And you can hold my hand.”
You were fine alone but if it’s Jaehyun, you don’t mind taking risks.
Spin-off: hold my hand, my love
#boynextdoor x reader#bnd x reader#boynextdoor imagines#myung jaehyun x reader#bnd jaehyun x reader#boynextdoor angst#stories
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Here it is! Finished character line up with designing process breakdown :)
Cowardly Lion
There's little to no description of the Cowardly Lion in the books, so I always imagined him as rather ironically big with thick, dark mane (the darker the mane, the stronger the lion). He's mainly made of soft, delicate curves, which are incorporated into his whiskers and hair as well. I wanted to incorporate bits of 'you had it all along' in Dorothy's friends designs, so classic tail and mane ribbons were not enough. Such big and proud animal has to have at least a bit of courage to wear lace collar. Lions have darker spot on their heads, which I turned into something fitting for a magical land - star. Since lions can be identified by whisker spots, Cowardly Lion's are little hearts.
Dorothy and Toto
I have carefully noted all descriptions of Dorothy's clothing, which is as follows: sunbonnet, gingham dress with white and pale blue, silver shoes, basket with white cloth and apron. The dress should have pockets. Even though the classic illustrations suggest that her hair was blonde, I decided to go with dark brown. It just fits way better. I added lace to the apron and sunbonnet. All garments were inspired by vintage clothes from early 1900s. Toto is based on Scottish Terrier, since he's been described as small, black and hairy, especially around the nose.
From now on beware spoilers for Wicked part 2
Scarecrow
His eyes will kill you. No, but seriously, they're not dark like other characters, because they're painted. He's made mostly of triangular shapes. Straszek's description is the most detailed: painted blue Munchkin's hat (with little bells), head is a small sack, painted face, blue suit of clothes, old boots with blue tops (I have no idea what tops are, I hope I did well), painted ears and padded hands (that's why his hands are too big + he's the only character with four fingers). Now, I didn't stick to the entire description for various reasons (f.ex. painted ears looked weird and blue hat didn't cooperate with cape), but mainly, because I wanted to add something from myself. And here's where the Wicked part 2 spoilers begin. Fiyero is quite tall, so I have abandoned the idea of Munchkin sized Straszek. He's ragged and dirty, because he was beaten. Torns in suit are remnants of Fiyero's wounds with golden straw spilling out instead of blood. If you look closely straw on his left shoulder should look like epaulet. If it doesn't, then it's my fault. The one shoulder cape was made from what was left of his chieftain outfit and it covers a big rip in the suit (which is his 'brainy' feature). Golden ornament depicts wheat and crows. I wouldn't be myself if I hadn't put unnecessary objects on a big hat, so there you have it: wheat & Elphaba's poppy. And last, but not least: straw sticking out of his face forms light facial hair (everyone say 'thank you, Jonathan Bailey').
Oof. That was long.
Tin Woodman
Standing proudly next to his boyfriend, Tin Man was created from hard, square shapes, quite summetrical as opposed to Scarecrow's absolute chaos. He has his little iconic cap and I can't really say a lot about him. The bowtie is his remarkable feature that I could never take away. It was red for a moment (just like Lion's ribbons were royal blue), but all my friends said that he looked like Freddy Fazbear, so I had to take the red away. I'm sorry, Nick. Let your husband housemate be colorful. Anyway! I might have accidentally incorporated some of Dark Cacao Cookie's armor in here, because that's the only armor I had drawn more than once. He's rusty all over and all that crying turned his eyes brown and left rusty tear marks. His jaw is hinged like it was in the books. If I remember correctly it was never stated that Nick Chopper was a Munchkin, but after Wicked turned Boq into Tin Woodman it would be such a waste to not deisgn a character sturdy, yet small. Spring hair is inspired by movie Boq's curly hair (thank you, Ethan Slater). His you 'had it all along' feature is... Less functional than others. The collar around his neck forms a heart.
Sketch page including some notes:
You still here? Wow. Hey, look!
Wicked part 2 looks great!
#I'm sorry#It's 4 AM#the wizard of oz#cowardly lion#dorothy gale#toto#scarecrow#tin man#nick chopper#tin woodman#wicked#wicked the musical#fiyero tigelaar#fiyercrow#boq woodsman#artists on tumblr#I am so sorry for so many tags
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