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passengerprincessblog · 1 day ago

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“Breaking Point” ~ Pt. 3 Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Angst

Summary: As tensions rise between Y/N and Lewis, their unresolved conflicts spill into their separate lives. Y/N immerses herself in her new role in LA, while Lewis decides to fly to LA to surprise her and show his support for her career.

WC: 1,200

The shrill sound of my 5 a.m. alarm jolts me out of sleep, blaring through the quiet hotel room and shattering the brief peace I’d found wrapped up next to him. I fumble to turn it off, groaning as I shake off the last remnants of sleep. The room is still dim, only a hint of light peeking through the curtains, and I glance over to see Lewis still sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling steadily, blissfully unaware of the rude awakening.

As quietly as I can, I slip out of bed and finish packing my bag. Every movement feels heavy, knowing that this is it—I’m leaving him again, back to LA, back to the whirlwind of work and responsibilities waiting for me. Last night, we’d found solace in each other, but it didn’t change anything. It was just a brief escape, and now, here I am, running out the door before sunrise.

My gaze drifts back to him, his face relaxed, his brow free from the tension that seemed to linger between us these days. I hesitate, biting my lip before walking over to his side of the bed. Gently, I reach out and brush a hand over his shoulder, softly calling his name. “Lewis… hey, I have to go.”

He stirs, blinking a few times before his eyes finally focus on me, and I watch as the sleepiness fades, replaced by something I can’t quite place. He sits up slightly, his expression neutral, and for a moment, I feel a pang of disappointment. I’d hoped for something more—a plea to stay, maybe even a look of understanding. But instead, he looks… indifferent.

“Right,” he murmurs, running a hand over his face. “Have a safe flight.”

I try not to let his tone affect me, but it does. I lean down, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. His arms wrap around me instinctively, pulling me closer, and just as I’m about to pull away, his lips linger, soft and desperate, as if he’s silently begging me to stay. The intensity in his kiss catches me off guard, and I feel my heart tighten, a mix of guilt and frustration swirling within me.

But I can’t stay. I pull back, offering him a small smile. “I’ll call you when I land, okay?”

He just nods, his gaze following me as I pick up my bag and head for the door. As I step out, I can feel his eyes on me, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on my shoulders, leaving me with a gnawing ache that I know won’t go away anytime soon.

Back in LA, the bustling energy of the city greets me as I arrive at my manager Jude’s office, trying to shake off the early-morning flight fatigue. Jude looks up from his desk, his expression stern as always, and gestures for me to sit down. His demeanor has always been more fatherly than anything else, a grounding force in my otherwise chaotic career. But sometimes, his seriousness grates on me, especially when I feel like he’s trying to dictate my every move.

“Welcome back,” he says, his voice clipped. “Hope you’re ready to dive right into this project. We’ve got a packed schedule, and you’re expected on set every day.”

I nod, though there’s a part of me that’s hesitant, the thought of missing Lewis’s upcoming races still weighing on me. I take a deep breath, bracing myself. “Jude, is there… any way I could work my schedule around just one of the races? I could maybe fly out for a day or two?”

His brows knit together, and he looks at me as if I’ve just suggested the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. “Y/N, this isn’t a hobby. This is your career. You need to be here, focused, without distractions. You can’t just fly off every time your boyfriend has a race.”

“I know,” I say, feeling a surge of frustration, my voice slipping into a whine. “But it’s important to him, and—”

“Enough,” he interrupts, his tone firm. “You need to be more mature about this. You’ve worked hard to get here, and now it’s time to prioritize. Do you want to be taken seriously in this industry, or do you want to be seen as someone who’s just along for the ride?”

His words sting, and I feel like a chastised teenager, but I bite back any retort, nodding quietly. He’s right, in a way, but the guilt lingers, a constant reminder of the sacrifice I’m making.

By Thursday, the tension between Lewis and me hasn’t improved. We’ve been texting back and forth, but every conversation seems to lead to an argument, leaving me drained and frustrated. He’s in Mexico now, gearing up for the next Grand Prix, while I’m stuck in LA, bouncing from one meeting to the next. His texts are short, clipped, and filled with veiled accusations about me not being there.

Lewis: “You could have rearranged things. You know how much this race means to me.”

Me: “Lewis, you act like it’s so easy. I’m not just sitting around, you know.”

Lewis: “It’s never easy with you, is it?”

I roll my eyes, feeling a surge of annoyance. Me: “Maybe if you weren’t so dramatic, we wouldn’t keep going in circles. I can’t drop everything for you.”

Lewis: “I just want you to show that you care.”

Me: “I do care! You’re the one making this a bigger deal than it is.”

The conversation ends with him leaving me on read, and I feel a mix of anger and sadness bubbling up. Nothing seems to be enough for him, no matter how hard I try.

POV Switch: Lewis

It’s Sunday, and the Mexico Grand Prix is about to start, but my mind keeps drifting back to Y/N, and the words we exchanged over text. I’m angry, frustrated, and yet I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being unreasonable. But damn it, it’s hard not to feel like she’s slipping away, especially when she seems so focused on everything but us.

During a break in the paddock, I run into Lando, who’s his usual, cheerful self, chatting with everyone he passes. Part of me wants to brush him off, but instead, I strike up a conversation, hoping to ease my mind… or maybe to confirm the suspicions that have been eating at me.

“So, Y/N not making it out here again?” Lando asks, looking over at me with a knowing grin.

I shrug, keeping my tone casual. “Yeah, she’s busy with this new project in LA. She’s pretty focused on it.”

“Oh, I know,” he says, nodding. “She told me she’s so excited for this role. You must be thrilled for her, right?”

I feel a pang of jealousy mixed with guilt as he says it, my jaw tightening. “Yeah… thrilled,” I murmur, trying to keep my tone light. “She, uh… talks to you about it?”

Lando nods, clearly oblivious to my discomfort. “Yeah, we chat here and there. She mentioned she’s hoping it’s her breakout role. I think she’s really got it in her. You must be proud.”

The weight of his words hits me harder than I expected. Here I am, stewing in jealousy, focused on how much her absence bothers me, while she’s out there doing everything she’s worked so hard for. I should be proud of her, thrilled for her. But instead, I’ve been selfish, putting my own needs above her dreams.

Lando gives me a friendly clap on the shoulder before heading off, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I take a deep breath, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own feelings that I haven’t taken the time to actually support her, to let her know that I’m here for her, no matter what.

Without hesitation, I pull out my phone and send a quick message to my assistant.

Me: “Book me a flight to LA for Monday. I’m going to see Y/N.”

If I’m going to make this work, I need to show her that I care about her career as much as I care about my own.

POV Y/N

The first day of filming had gone perfectly. The nerves I felt in the morning had melted away as soon as I stepped in front of the camera, diving into the role I’d been preparing for over the past few weeks. By the time I’d wrapped up, I was buzzing with energy, flipping through the script in my trailer, trying to absorb the details for tomorrow.

I hadn’t thought about Lewis all day, not the arguments, the jealousy, or the fact that he was in a different country entirely, living his own life without me. And it was a relief—a reminder that I could be more than just “his girlfriend.” I was here, on set, doing what I loved, and for the first time in a while, it felt like it was enough.

A sudden knock at my trailer door pulls me out of my thoughts, and I look up, surprised. I’m not expecting anyone.

“Come in!” I call, glancing at the door as it swings open to reveal Lola, one of the sound managers I’d worked with before. Her blue hair, piercings, and tattoos make her stand out on any set, and her unapologetic opinions are part of why I love her so much. She’s a firecracker, always calling things as she sees them.

She gives me a wide-eyed look, an amused grin spreading across her face. “Dude, I think your boyfriend is here? That driver guy, right?”

I blink, thrown off guard. “Wait… what?”

“Yeah, he’s out there, looking all glamorous in some fancy designer outfit,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I think the whole crew is practically drooling over him. Even the director’s talking to him.”

I get up, peering out the small window of my trailer, and sure enough, there he is—Lewis Hamilton, surrounded by a crowd of intrigued crew members, the director himself leaning in to shake his hand, a look of admiration on his face. Everyone is utterly charmed, captivated by him, and I can practically feel my blood boiling.

Seriously? He just shows up here, at my set, and pulls all the attention toward himself? It’s my project, my moment, and here he is, stepping in unannounced, drawing everyone’s focus like he’s the main attraction. Does he have to make everything about him?

As I watch, he finally manages to extract himself from the crowd, striding toward my trailer with that confident, self-assured look he always has. He’s dressed head to toe in Dior, sunglasses on even though the sun is starting to set, and there’s a part of me that feels a stab of irritation. He didn’t just show up. He came here looking like this—like he’s ready to own the entire scene.

I school my expression, putting on a happy face, reminding myself to play along. After all, it’s not like I don’t want him to be here. But the audacity of him showing up out of nowhere without even a heads-up feels… intrusive. Like he’s stepping into my space and taking over.

He steps inside, flashing me that smile, and I force myself to smile back, pretending I’m thrilled he finally decided to show up for me for once.

“Surprise,” he says, his voice warm, like he’s expecting me to melt into his arms. He reaches out, hands settling on my waist, pulling me close.

I smile tightly, crossing my arms, refusing to give in so easily. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

He chuckles, running his hand up my arm, his touch gentle but insistent. “Wanted to surprise you. Thought you’d be happy to see me.”

I manage a small smile, swallowing the annoyance bubbling up inside me. “Oh, I’m thrilled,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light, though it’s laced with a hint of sarcasm. “And I’m sure the whole crew is too. They’ve all been fawning over you since you got here.”

He smirks, clearly not picking up on my irritation, as he leans in closer, his voice dropping. “Well, I’m only here for one person.” He tilts his head, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek, trailing his lips down to my jaw. “I missed you.”

I stiffen, resisting the urge to melt into him, but it’s getting harder with every touch, every soft kiss. He’s pulling out all the stops, the charm, the warmth, and it’s almost enough to make me forget how angry I was. Almost.

But then, the thought creeps back in. He didn’t come to celebrate my success, to support me in my project. No, he’s here because he’s jealous, because he wants to make sure I’m still wrapped around his finger, focused on him. He’s here for him, not for me.

He moves to kiss me, but I turn my head away, crossing my arms even tighter. “I’m not in the mood,” I say, my voice cool.

He pulls back, a look of confusion flickering across his face, quickly replaced by irritation. “What’s wrong?”

I shrug, feigning indifference. “Nothing’s wrong. I just… wasn’t expecting you to show up here like this. I thought you’d be in Mexico, celebrating with your team.”

He frowns, his jaw clenching slightly. “I wanted to see you. I thought you’d be happy I came all this way to surprise you.”

I feel a pang of guilt, but my frustration outweighs it. “Well, maybe I would be if it felt like you were here for the right reasons.”

His expression darkens, and he steps back slightly, crossing his own arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I sigh, biting back the urge to say something harsher. “It means that every time I have something important going on, it somehow becomes about you. You’re here on my set, charming everyone, pulling all the attention to yourself. Can’t I have just one thing that’s about me?”

The hurt flickers across his face, but he quickly masks it, his tone defensive. “I’m not trying to take anything from you, Y/N. I came because I wanted to support you.”

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “Support me? You’ve been fighting me about this role since I took it. You didn’t even want me to take it.”

“That’s not true,” he argues, his voice rising slightly. “I just wanted you to consider my feelings. It’s like you barely even thought about how this would affect us.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve thought about it,” I snap back, the frustration boiling over. “But it’s always about you, isn’t it? You want everything to be on your terms. You get to chase your dreams, but the moment I try to focus on mine, it’s a problem.”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, his gaze dropping, and I can see a flicker of guilt in his eyes. He shifts uncomfortably, as if he’s realizing the truth in my words. But before he can respond, I feel a swell of something else—guilt, mixed with the nagging reminder of what Jude had said to me in that meeting.

I hear Jude’s voice in my head, his stern, almost fatherly tone telling me to focus, to stay on track, to avoid distractions. He’d warned me that this relationship would only hold me back, that I needed to be stronger, more mature, more independent.

But I love Lewis. No matter how much he frustrates me, no matter how selfish he can be, I still want him. I still want to forgive him, to wrap my arms around him and let everything else fall away. He’s here, standing right in front of me, trying, in his own flawed way, to show me he cares. And despite everything, I feel myself wanting to forgive him, to give in to the comfort of his embrace.

I look up at him, his face softening as he senses my hesitation, his hands reaching out, silently begging for me to let him in. My heart aches, torn between the voice of reason urging me to focus on myself and the overwhelming pull I feel toward him, the need to be close to him, to forget all the tension, if only for a moment.

But as I stand there, caught between my own wants and the reminder of everything I’ve worked for, I find myself frozen, unable to decide which path to take.

————————————————————

Thank you for reading!

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#f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #f1 x you #lewis hamilton fic

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longing4yesterday · 3 months ago

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tempted to write a fic where paul has had consistent night terrors since he was younger. they persist into adulthood (not as often, but still very potent), which keep him up for days at a time until one day when he collapses in the studio during a rather intense session. this concerns john, who then takes it upon himself to look after paul as he's recovering. funny thing is, the night terrors start to subside during that time, which hasn't happened since before paul's mother died.

#thoughts #aka paul trusts john to calm him down after a terrible bought of night terrors #antics ensue #i thought about it last night as i was drifting off to sleep #hmmmm

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eupheme · 3 months ago

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— honey, honey

[part ii of sugar, sugar] | [part iii] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 5.2k

tags: asshole friend!wade, (sorta soft) roommate!logan, baker!neighbor!reader, flirting, mutual yearning, miscommunication, immature humor, wingman!wade, light angst, oral sex, spitting, fingering, unprotected PiV, begging, floor sex

Even after you wake up alone, and almost late for work, it doesn’t deter your interest in your neighbor - especially after the night you shared.

(Or - a miscommunication, and the following through of two late-night promises.)

You awake to the blare of Dolly Parton's '9 to 5'.

A time you wish your work schedule followed. Groggy with sleep as you reach for your phone, hitting snooze on your way-the-fuck-too-early alarm.

Collapsing back on your pillows, as the night before comes rushing back to you.

The party. Meeting Logan. Coming back to your apartment after.

An ache between your thighs that you definitely didn't have the morning before. Sitting up with a start, heart racing as your hand stretches out on the right side of the bed.

The sheets are cool, in-between the deep rips in the fabric.

You don't remember him leaving.

Had drifted off with an arm slung around your waist, one of the hardest sleeps of your life. Something inside you twists, leaving behind the sharp tang of disappointment.

It's not unusual, you suppose. You'd had your fair share of fuck-and-go's, and had even committed a few yourselves. But you thought last night had felt different.

There had been a connection, you were sure of it. The way he had touched you, kissed you-

You had just hoped...

The snoozed alarm goes off, and you catch the time. Forty-five minutes before than your usual alarm - the numbers shocking you into action.

Set earlier to accommodate a last minute change for a wedding - all of the cupcakes needing to be repackaged before the mother of the bride came at seven.

And you had volunteered, do-gooder that you were.

"Shit!” You hiss, scrambling out of bed. A whirlwind as you throw clothes on, banging into the bathroom to get ready.

Still muttering as you blow through the kitchen, snatching up your bag and keys.

"Why the fuck did I do that?" You grouse to yourself, skipping your usual morning coffee - you'll have to grab it on the way, "God, I'm fucking dumb, I always regret it."

The door slams behind you - as you rush down the steps, and out into the streets.

His claws unsheath with the bang of the door. Awakened from a dead sleep, his heartbeat jolting as he's thrown back into another life, in another world.

It takes him a full minute to come back down. His surroundings unfamiliar, the room still bathed in darkness.

A groan, when he remembers. The claws slipping back beneath, a sharp twinge as his skin knits back together.

It's too early for the late night he shared with you. Should have thought about you working in the morning, might have held back from the extra round the night before.

Had meant to wake up before you, slip back into bed as you dozed. You had dropped off in his arms the night before, lulled to sleep after he had coaxed two more orgasms from you, with the slow pump of his hips and circle of his fingers.

Dragging himself out to the couch once your breathing had gone steady. Tugging the homemade afghan off a nearby armchair, wrapping it around him as his eyes fixed on the door. Keeping watch, as he did next door.

Lulled to sleep, thinking about you. His eyes flutter shut for a moment now, the slightest pull of his lips at the memory.

Flinching again, when you barrel out of the bathroom. The light makes him squint - you haven’t seen him yet, as he pushes himself up on an elbow. Your name soft hush on his lips, until he hears your angry muttering.

"Why the fuck did I do that?"

"God I'm fucking dumb, I always regret it."

Your tone laced with anger, woven in with the sharp tang of remorse.

The realization is a douse of ice-cold water, rising away the last dregs of sleep. Leaving him staring at the door as you yank it shut behind you.

Scowling, as he pushes himself up.

Nearly ripping the denim as he tugs his jeans back on. Finding his white tank and discarded flannel in your room, right where he had stripped them off the night before.

His jaw works, replaying your words.

He should have known. Shouldn’t have listened to Wade. Shouldn’t have listened to you. Shouldn’t have let himself hope.

And for the second time, your door slams shut.

You think about Logan all morning, even as you put out fires at work.

The boxes exchanged - two-hundred and fifty rustic, individual cardboard carriers exchanged for sleek and shiny white ones, tied with a bow. The memory that runs through your mind even staves off your irritation at the last-minute work, a peppy smile and wave as you hand the boxes off.

The 'tied-up-in-knots' is a feeling that echoes in your belly. Your fondness for Wade is starting to come back, after the way you were ready to write him off for that absolute debacle of an introduction.

You'd been expecting something a little more... natural. Normal. A "hey, have you met my neighbor?" not one of the most embarrassing things you've had to live through with a near-stranger.

Maybe you should have known better.

But with the way the night ended, you can't bring yourself to be mad. Letting yourself get distracted as you replay the night, again - almost grabbing the wrong tube of icing as your mind wanders back.

Not only thinking about the way he felt - those wandering hands and how perfectly he fit inside you, how he had completely fucked your brains out - but him as well.

The conversations. The tiny crack you had made in his armor, the way he had shown you his claws. The drift of his fingers against your skin, when he had asked why you had gone to Wade.

You’re thankful you’re working in the back today, with the way your skin heats from chest to ears. Quiet mutterings to get it to together.

And as the afternoon finally starts to lull, you find yourself gathering ingredients.

It wouldn't take long to make something small. The recipe is one you know by heart.

Maybe you can drop it off tonight. Maybe it will erase whatever you did to drive him from your bed and back to his apartment in the middle of the night. Maybe it will be a nice way to let him know you’re thinking of him.

Vanilla, flour, powdered sugar. Fresh, sliced strawberries.

Maybe you have it bad.

The box is tucked under your arm when you knock on Wade’s door. It’s still early in the afternoon - the hallways bright, traffic buzzing outside.

You fidget with the strap of your dress - something breezy, but still a little cute. An attempt to look like you have it together with looking like you tried too hard - something easier said than done.

There’s a fluttering twitch behind your ribs when the door opens. That curl of hope squashed when it’s not Logan that answers, but Wade.

You’re quick to fix your expression, offering him a smile, “Morning! Late night?”

“Is it a late night if it’s still going?” A yawn, as he scratches at his ribs - fingers digging into the fabric of his cropped tee, “We’re four seasons deep into a Supermarket Sweep marathon. If I could go back in time again��”

The tv blares in the background, Al sitting in an armchair. The couch from the night before still sits empty, no sign of Logan.

Not that you’re checking.

“You’d… want to host?” You offer, eyebrows raising.

“God no. Can you imagine me in those sweaters? Way too much polyester.” He chuckles, “No, Blind Al and I would sweep. Pun intended.”

Your head tilts, nose scrunching.

“I see you make that face, but that woman knows every goddamn aisle.” Wade sighs fondly, before he’s jolting - eyes fixing on you, “But enough about the biggest regret in my life, how was your night?”

“Oh,” You manage, “It’s was good-”

“Just good?” He scoffs, “He gave you the greatest show and you’re saying it’s just good?”

A huff, muttered under his breath, ”Can’t remember the last time I took the skin boat to tuna town like that. Surprised you’re still walking.”

The noise you make is ugly - a broken groan. Embarrassment flooding with your nerves, cheeks heating, “If you must know, it was great. Lots of wholesome, adult conversation.”

“Uh huh. And a good, old-fashioned railing.” His tongue tucks against his teeth, “I get it! I’ve had him inside me too, it was quite the experience.”

That has you pausing. A beat, as curiosity wells in you, “You mean…?”

“Well, it was his claws,” Wade sighs wistfully, “But how different can it be?”

You huff.

“I don’t think that’s the same thing.”

His brow lifts, “It is, according to the internet.”

“Sure, Wade. The Internet.” Your eyes roll, as you shift - adjusting the box as it rests against your hip, “Speaking of though, is he, uh, home?”

Wade doesn’t hear you. His eyes have already dropped, just noticing what you’re carrying. A tilt of his head as he peers through the transparent film on top.

“What is that?” His finger pokes the box, and your eyes dip down

“It’s nothing,” You start - but you know he won’t let it drop, “Well, actually, it’s - I uh, made him a-”

The words peter out lamely, as you hold up the box. Wade’s teeth sink into the side of his lip, as he bites back a cackle.

“Did you seriously bake him a ‘thanks-for-the-sex’ cake?”

You blink, “No!”

A pause, as mortification wells in you.

“Oh my god,” It’s a whisper, as your hand drags across your face, “Oh my god, Wade. I baked him a sex cake.”

You shove at him as he laughs - his hands sneaking beneath your arm to wrestle the box away from you, “Mm, you’ve got it bad, girlfriend. This is pretty embarrassing, real hard to come back from.”

“There was context!” You insist, reaching for it, “Give that to me.”

Wade twists - pivoting away from you, “Oh ho, not a chance, Sugarplum.”

Your forearm presses into his chest as you lunge at him, but it’s all too easy for him to set the box on the cluttered end-table, barring you as he closes the door - trapping you both out in the hallway.

“He earned it, from what I heard,” He chuckles, “And are you really gonna take it away from him?”

You’re still mentally, and possibly physically, cringing. Leaning against the wall, while he blocks the door.

Wade is still grinning, a sigh as his arms cross,“God, I wish he was here.”

And for the first time all day, you’re glad he’s not. It had seemed like a sweet idea but you’re left feeling like an idiot now - already planning on trying to sneak back in and grab it when Wade isn’t looking.

“He’s not?” You’re fishing. Hook and bobber, a flick as you cast out your heart, fingers on the reel. Pathetic, perhaps, but you can’t resist, “You think he’ll be back tonight?”

“Ooh, the real reason you stopped by. I see how it is.” He sniffs, “But no, I’ve got no idea. Left this morning with Laura, something about a job.”

A beat, before he adds, “Which about time, bee tee dubs. Great face card, but Old Wadey here is about to go into overdraft.”

“Laura?” You parrot, without thinking. A frown creasing your brow, the slightest downturn of your lips.

He catches the expression immediately.

Wade smirks, “Ooh, you are looking so green, Sugar. Never took you for the jealous type.”

An inhale of air between his teeth, head tilting as his hands brace on his hips, “God I could make this so complicated right now. Drag this whole thing out to another chapter, but I won’t, because I just so happen to like you.”

A beat, before he puts you out of your misery, “Laura’s his daughter. Well, this world’s Logan’s daughter. Well, he’s the baby daddy, but there’s no mom. Well, it’s complicated.”

“Oh.” You manage. Another detail to keep up with, something you tuck away with the rest. To ask Logan about later, when you see him - a feeling that he might be a little more coherent in his explanation.

“I’m sure you’ll meet her.” Wade smiles, “Good kid, I mean, as good as you can be with that as a father figure. So much trauma.”

You hum. He had hinted at that. You couldn’t believe that his world didn’t want him. Not sure what could have happened to have him all but warn you the night before.

As if it would make you not want him.

There’s a beat, before his hands are resting on his hips, “Okay. I need to go back to the apparently-contextual-sex-cake.”

You groan, slumping against the wall - the heels of your palms digging into your closed eyes.

“I thought it was embarrassing but I gotta admit that I’m jealous. It’s really bothering me that no one’s ever baked me a cake, because I’m a very tender and generous lover.”

“That wasn’t why. He seemed interested in trying a non-phallic version of the cake I made for you,” You try to keep it professional, but he’s already smirking, “Which thank you for bringing up by the way, really broke the ice.”

“Without me you’d still be at ‘favorite colors’,” Wade’s smile widens, before he sighs longingly, “And god, that cake was good. Best dick I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

You snort, “So far, right?”

His eyes widen.

“You little slut, are you shopping for a third already?” Wade twists the doorknob - opening it a crack with his yell, “Al, it’s happening!”

“No,” You laugh, “I just meant-, I meant I might get better.”

“Can’t beat perfection. And I would know, with a face like this.”

There’s a high-pitched yap then, the sound of nails scratching at the wooden door.

“Ooh, duty calls. Pun intended. Again.” He thumbs over his shoulder, “I’ll tell him you stopped, by if-”

You give him a look, but a grin still tugs at your lips, “If I do that other thing you’re always asking me to do.”

His hand presses against his chest, in mock-offense.

“I can’t believe you’d say that! I was going to say if you don’t see him first.”

It makes you smile. Fondly, even.

“Thanks, Wade.”

His hand pats your shoulder.

“Any time, Sugar. My holes are always open.”

You sigh.

You don’t see him until late in the evening.

The afternoon ticking by. Telling yourself you don’t care - to play it cool - only to turn around and try to convince yourself that open communication is the way to go.

Vegging out in front of the television for a while - trying to figure out what to order for dinner. Narrowing it down to two takeout locations when there’s a series of bangs in the hallway.

Layered voices.

You can’t help but look. Half-nosy and half-worried for Wade, even if he did have mutant powers. Even if you can’t offer much for backup, it doesn’t stop you from cracking open the door.

“-open the goddamn door right now, I’ll break it down.”

The growling voice is one you’ve come to know, even if it’s angrier than you’ve ever heard.

The side of Logan’s fist colliding with the door frame, his shoulder pressed up against the wooden door.

“Not a chance, Jack Torrance.” Wade’s voice is muffled, “Always wanted to be an uncle and you are not ruining this for me-”

The doorknob rattles under his grip, as he snarls, “You roped me into this, shithead. All that talk about getting to know-“

“New York’s Cupid is never wrong! Don’t you dare ruin my streak!”

It’s then that Logan sees you - the snarl on his face flickering. Expression going flat.

A final filthy glare shot at the door before he steps away. The calculated look he throws your way makes you think he’s considering making for the end-of-the-hall staircase instead.

What is happening?

A beat, before his jaw grits. Hand shoving into the pocket of his jeans. Closing the gap between you only to thrust out a rolled-up bundle of bills, secured with a rubber band.

“For the mattress.”

There’s a frustrated rumble in his throat when you don’t take it - too busy frowning, your eyes flicking from the bills to his face.

“I don’t want that?” It comes out like a question, as you try to put the pieces together.

“Just take it.” He grits. Eyes dropping, “You can replace your mattress and we can forget last night happened, if you regret it so much.”

You blink.

“I don’t regret last night, Logan.” Your hands brace on your hips, “You were the one that left. Which is fine, if that’s how you like things to go, but don’t you dare point your finger-”

Logan scoffs, interrupting you.

“I didn’t leave.” His tongue licks against his teeth, as his head shakes, “I slept on the couch. Perfect place to hear your rant this morning.”

Your hands brace on your hips, “My rant?”

“Yeah, Sugar.” He’s stepping into your space - and it shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but something about how you’re bumping up against the door has your heart racing, “Heard everything you said. How ‘fucking dumb you are’, how you regret it.”

A beat, as you process - a thunk, as you head tips back against the door. Everything becoming clear, and you almost laugh.

He hadn’t left.

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

His frown deepens.

Your face softens, “How could I think that? I spent all day thinking about you. I was mad at myself for taking an early shift, instead of getting that extra time with you.”

There’s still a jut to his jaw. Defenses and hackles raised - your words as useless as his fist against the door.

Your hands spread wide, “I even baked you a cake, which is apparently something I do when I like someone.”

He goes still at that, eyes dark. A lithe roll of his shoulders as he steps closer - voice dropping, “Say that again.”

“I baked you a cake?” You repeat, distracted by his proximity.

“Mm,” Logan hums, “Not the beginning. The last part.”

Your cheeks heat, as you realize what you said, “When… when I like someone.”

There’s the touch of his fingers against your chin. Tipping your face towards his, even as your eyes drift to somewhere over his shoulder. Too embarrassed to meet his gaze just yet.

“Is that right?” Logan husks.

The word slips from you, “Maybe.”

“I like maybe.”

That emboldens you to look. He’s close now, a mimicry of the night before - just on the other side.

The hand still hovers, in that narrow gap between you. Fingers flexing around the bundle of bills, “I still want you to take this.”

“Well, I don’t want it.” Your head shakes, “Maybe just for some new sheets, but I thought-“

There’s a different intent in the way he crowds you, now. A softer slope of his shoulders, the sweep of his thumb against your skin.

“Thought what?”

The low husk makes you squirm. His eyes half-lidded when you glance at him. The heat of his anger morphing into a much different kind of fire.

“Thought that if it was already ruined…” You trail off, as you smile.

As you hope.

“….maybe you’d want to ruin it a little more with me, sometime?”

There’s the slightest pull of his lips, as he smirks.

You make it inside, but no further than the couch. It’s familiar, the way his hand cradles the base of your neck. The muted sigh, when your lips part at the sweep of his tongue.

Laid down against the cushions, legs spread to fit him between them. Hips that dip down, the meat of his thigh nudging against your core, sending your heart racing.

How he chases after you, when you forget to breathe. Leaning in you as your fingers twist in his hair, tugging him closer.

Need pounds in your vein, matching the pulse in your throat when his lips press against it. Wandering hands, one that palms the curve of your breast. A throaty hum when he can feel the tight peak through the fabric, pinching it between thumb and forefinger.

The other skating up your bare thigh, raising goosebumps. Slipping beneath the hem of your dress, his leg shifting to make room. Fingertips stroking against your inner thigh - the soft crease as you whine into his mouth, feeling how his lips curve as he kisses you.

You’re wet already. You know you are - since that spark of realization, then the moment when his mouth pressed against yours. Fueled by the heavy weight of him as he guided you beneath him, smelling like smoke and wood and the sharp bite of leather.

Wound up by this teasing, and it’s enough that your hand is catching his wrist, pulling his palm flush with your core.

The moan it pulls from you is ragged. Logan’s hand is warm where he cups you, curling fingers against the curve of your ass, heel pressing against your seam.

Another rock of his hand, until there’s a soft “please” slipping from your lips. Fingers slip beneath then - a ragged curse muttered against your lips as they part you.

Slipping against where you’re wet and warm. The tips of two pressing against your opening, feeling how you give for him.

“Should let me make it up to you.” Logan’s voice is ragged, as he sinks to the knuckle. A slow pump as you clench down around them, a lift of your hips as you try to take more.

It’s on the tip of your tongue to protest.

Remind him it was just a misunderstanding, but then your eyes are fluttering open, seeing how his dark gaze is fixed on you.

Your answer is quiet, “Okay. S’long as you don’t stop.”

There’s the flash of sharp teeth. You mourn the weight of him as he eases off of you, fingers slipping free. But it’s only to catch your thighs - smearing slick across your skin as he moves to the floor. Tugging you until legs spread wide for him, hips at the edge of the couch.

There’s a hitch of your breath, as you hold it. His lips pressing against your knee, as his hand bundle up the fabric. A slow reveal as he fists it around his fingers, bringing it up to rest against your abdomen.

His kisses follow the path his fingers took. Open-mouthed against your thigh, until his tongue dips out to taste the soft skin where your leg meets hip.

“Logan,” You huff - needy, “Don’t tease.”

His eyes lift from where they lingered - the darkened patch of fabric between your thighs.

“Been teasing me since I left. Couldn’t stop thinking about this.” It comes out rough, his eyes flicking back down.

“But I thought-,” You start. It’s hard to think when he’s this close, the press of his thumb into the joint of your knee - keeping your legs spread, “Thought you were mad.”

Logan huffs. Lips ghosting against your skin, as he inhales, “At the thought of never having you again.”

It’s like being struck by an arrow, piercing clean through. The little gasp turning long, as his hand slips up your thigh. Catching at the waistband of your panties - tugging them down so he can get his mouth on you.

The tip of his tongue meets you before his lips do. A low groan as it flattens against your slit, tasting your arousal. His nose pressing against your mound as he teases at your clit. Slipping down to dip inside you, as your nails scrape against the cushions.

Slicking you up with his tongue. The buzzing groan of his lips against your skin as he eats you - open-mouthed kisses against your core. Tight licks against your clit, before his lips close around and suck.

It leaves you a mess. Short panting breath, as he gives you what you need. His name melding in with your gasps, as that string inside you winds tighter and tighter.

The pressure eases and you whimper as he leans back, jaw working. Lips shiny where he’s smeared with you - watching how you clench for him as he lets spit pool on his tongue, before it’s dropping against your folds.

It’s filthy, the way he rubs it into your skin. Coating his fingers before the two are notching again, before sinking deep into you.

A moan is pulled from you, with the stretch. Stealing your breath, even with how eager you are. Giving you more. That dull ache easing as his mouth returns to you. Hungry in the way he groans against your skin, as if he was getting off to your pleasure.

The time before doesn’t compare to now. The full focus of his fingers, buried deep and crooking. Pointed flicks of his tongue - the way his eyes are so fixed on your face.

Catching the pull of your brow and the way your teeth sink into your lip. Keeping the pounding pace steady when he sees how you gasp, your fingers fisting in his flannel. Relentless in the way they stroke against the spot that makes you see stars.

It sends you higher and higher. A groan against your skin when you buck into his mouth. Another one, louder, when your hand slips to his hair and tugs.

“Feels so fucking good, Logan,” You’re babbling now - desire slurring the syllables, “I’m so, I’m so close-”

Those dark eyes settle over you - his mouth busy but it’s not hard to imagine the way he’d encourage you. The husk of his voice, that tough timber as a low command melds with praise. The thought is enough to send you over - with the soft suck of his mouth, the way his fingers fill you.

Your knees dig into his shoulders as you curl inward - that hand at your belly pressing you flat against the cushions as you come. Making you take what he gives you - the flick of his tongue going lazy as the tight pulse around his fingers ebbs.

The tension leeches from you, turning to glitter in your veins. That tight knot of worry slowly unfurling - giving you something to grasp, hold onto, as you come back down. A sigh when his fingers slip from you. The hungry press of teeth against your inner thigh, a reminder that he’s there. Soothing it with the swipe of his tongue after.

Easing back as you push yourself up - his shoulder pressing into the edge of the couch as he sits on the floor. Your limbs are liquid as you slip down to join him - Logan’s broad hands gripping at your waist, your thighs splitting as you throw a leg across his lap.

“You’re too good at that.” You hum, as you settle in his lap bare, spit-slick against his jeans. Against where he strains, a breath hissed out as you tug at his belt. Reaching to help you - loosening the button, tugging at the zipper.

A lift of his hips to push his jeans down, his cock full and hard where it rests against your belly. His hands reaching for the hem of your dress, tugging it from you. Fingers slipping around to loosen your bra as your mouth meets his.

He tastes like you, as he licks into your mouth - a sweet tang that blends with him. His shaft pressing against your pussy as he lifts his hips, grinding himself into you. You push yourself up onto your knees - his lips parting with a groan as your fingers circle him, holding him steady.

It breaks off - a sharp hiss, when you sink down.

There’s no slow slide this time. Too eager, in the way you drop down. Taking half of him at once, with a breath that chokes you. His fingers pinching hard enough to bruise, as his brow knits.

“Easy, sweetheart.” He grits, “Not going anywhere, alright?”

It soothes you, as your nails bite into his shoulders. Pink marks that ebb away by the time you start moving - a slow bounce until you’re sitting flush on his lap, cock speared inside you.

It’s also different than last time. He’d been deep, then. Your faced pressed into the mattress as you had panted - but now -

Now, his mouth is at your shoulder. Lips pressed against the fading mark he had left. That tight grip of his hands loosening, as he guides you - letting your hips rock. A shallow drag of his cock inside you, feeling like he’s in your ribs.

Another press of his mouth against your sternum. Hands slipping down to wrap around your thighs, encouraging you to lift a little more. Enough that he can get his mouth on you - his tongue laving across a nipple. Groaning as you press your chest against him, leaning into the suck of his lips, the nip of teeth.

His thrusts like this are shallow, punctuated by the occasional deep thrust that has you panting. Has your fingers loosening to slip between your thighs, pressing against your clit.

You can feel the scrape of his facial hair. The ease of his hands as he lets you drop, until he’s buried in you again. Catching at your wrist, tugging your hand back to his shoulder.

“Uh-uh.” Logan tongue clicks, eyes dark, “Just keep riding, honey.”

His fingers replace yours. Slick circles, a pressure that makes you clench down hard around him.

A soft coo, as your breathing shortens - turning to whimpers.

“Lemme make you feel good.”

And this is new, too - how close he is. Those hazel eyes focused so singularly on you, it’s almost too much.

“You do make me feel good,” You breathe, letting your lips press against his cheek, ‘You’re, oh-”

His hips stutter, where he flexes into you. Your own pace sloppy - grinding instead of bouncing, chasing the building pleasure in your core. The soft sounds you make growing louder. His legs flexing beneath you, feet going flat against the floor so he can drive himself up.

There’s that tell-tale clench. The way your vision starts to go blurry, words slipping into sounds.

“Logan.” You, “I’m-,”

He can feel it - the way you tighten as he pounds into you. The glaze of your eyes, the throaty moan as you start to string stiff in his arm.

“That’s it,” Logan rasps, face tipped up to yours, “You gonna come for me?”

Your moan pitches high.

He grins.

“Then let me hear how pretty you sound. Come on, sweetheart.”

With the circle of his fingers, you’re shattering.

A soft cry as you come again, gushing against the cock that only pounds harder. Drawing out the flutter of your cunt as he grips your thighs, rocking into you. A ragged moan as he feels how you flutter around him, head tipped back. An arm wrapping around you back as he tips forward, bringing you down to the floor.

You head cushioned on the pile of discard clothes. His knees brace against the rug as the angle changes, sending him deeper. Lifting your hips, eyes fixed on where he drives into you. The gleam of his cock where he’s soaked with your release, how he slips between your puffy folds.

His teeth grit. Fingers flexing against your skin. A rough moan when your hips move to meet his thrusts.

“You want me to come in you again?” There’s an edge to his voice. Eyes fixed on your face, searching.

You nod, but it’s not enough.

His hips snap harder, breath ragged, “Ask me for it, Sugar.”

It makes your stomach clench. Something deep burning, liquid heat in your core. Your legs hitch around his waist, hooking around his back.

“Want you to come in me,” You beg, “Logan, please-”

His eyes flutter shut. The muscles in his neck flex, as he arcs over you - a hand braced on the floor, pricks of silver glinting between his knuckles.

A rough growl that turns into something soft as his hips snap forward - hilting himself as he comes. Hips pumping with each pulse of his cock, as he spills deep inside you. As you milk him dry, until the heavy throb of his cock fades.

He’s beautiful. It leaves you dizzy.

You really might just have to bake him another.

The golden sunset seeps through the windows, spilling across the floor.

“You wanna stay?”

It comes out drowsy. Your limbs are liquid, even more so than last time, “I know a great takeout place.”

You’ll need a little fuel, if tonight goes as it did before.

He hums - the brush of bare fingers down your spine. It’s cramped on the couch, entwined limbs. Sweat-dewed in the summer evening.

“You still wanna get to know me?”

Your nose brushes his throat. Cheek pressed up against the curl of his shoulder - where he can just feel you nod, “I would. If you’ll let me.”

“Yeah,” Logan rasps, quietly.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.”

I can't even express how just - grateful and thrilled and happy I am that so many of you liked sugar, sugar! thank you for the encouragement for this part 2, and I hope you liked it! 💖 I have one more part planned (though open for more!) that I've been working on, along with more for the wade x f!reader x logan fic as well!

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #logan howlett #james logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x f!reader

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dksfml · 15 days ago

Text

off my face - yjw

pairing: jungwon x reader genre: soulmate au, mega FLUFF word count: 6.6k summary: in a world where each person has a soulmate mark indicating where they will be touched by their soulmate for the first time, there’s jungwon—the soccer team captain you’d like to be ruined by forever—who has no soulmate mark at all. what does that make you, someone whose mark has changed color because of him? author's note: finally!! here's your most awaited blond jungwon fic that i skipped sleep for<3333 inspired by this amazing prompt my friend sent me.

One touch and you got me stoned. Higher than I've ever known. You call the shots and I follow. Sunrise, but the night still young. No words, but we speak in tongues. If you let me, I might say too much.

You sat near the front row, posture perfect, eyes narrowed as Professor Min’s lecture on ancient mythology took a surprising turn. Today’s topic wasn’t just history—it was soulmate lore, the mysterious marks everyone was born with, and the myths that surrounded them. The professor’s calm, seasoned voice filled the room, but the air buzzed with barely contained excitement. Everyone was alert, even the usual back-row whisperers, captivated by the promise of something rare: a sanctioned discussion about their most private marks.

“These soulmate marks,” Professor Min began, his gaze sweeping the room with a faint smile, “are said to be the final traces of a bond forged in a past life. Legends tell us that in each lifetime, we may be separated from our soulmates, lost to distance or circumstance. But the marks,” he gestured to his own faintly darkened palm, “are said to be the soul’s way of leaving a trail—a reminder.”

A murmur rippled through the room. Everyone had a mark, a small patch of inky darkness, as distinct as fingerprints, mapped out on their bodies. Some had them on their palms or fingertips, waiting for the day a handshake or brush of fingers would light up that mark with color. Others had them in more curious places, whispering of fated touches in the most unlikely moments.

"The legend says," Professor Min continued, "that these marks were painted by one’s soulmate in a past life, a vow made in hopes to meet again, to find each other across time."

You clenched your pen a little tighter, the faint tickle of wonder battling the urge to keep your expression blank and unfeeling. You’d always kept your interest in soulmate marks private. They seemed so full of mystery, and the idea of your soulmate waiting for you somewhere was oddly… reassuring. You glanced down, conscious of the mark behind your knee, hidden like a strange secret that even you could barely understand. What kind of first touch would even reach there? The thought was both amusing and baffling, and you stifled a wry smile.

Around you, other students leaned in to chat, loud enough that their conversations blended into a steady hum. Your classmate Arin nudged her friend, laughing as she displayed the faint mark on her palm. “I’ve been dying to know who’ll shake my hand one day,” she whispered excitedly, her eyes glimmering with hope.

But your gaze drifted just beyond Arin, landing instead on a familiar figure lounging in the middle row with his legs stretched out, looking every bit like he was born to disrupt things without lifting a finger. Jungwon. Handsome in a way that seemed almost unfair, with striking, dark eyes framed by lashes that cast subtle shadows on his cheeks, and hair the color of midnight that fell in soft, tousled waves. He had this effortless, magnetic presence that drew people toward him, like he knew he didn’t need to try.

As captain of the soccer team and one of the most well-known faces on campus, Jungwon somehow managed to look both sharp and relaxed, as if the attention his looks or reputation brought him meant nothing. You’d been crushing on him since last year, an avid fan always present at his games, cheering him on like a lovesick fool. Whenever he scored a goal, you felt your heart leap, and you couldn’t help but unleash your inner fangirl, your excitement spilling over as you screamed his name. Right now, he seemed half-listening to his friends, a hint of a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back, eyes drifting up to the ceiling before refocusing on his friends. It was that easygoing confidence that made him impossible not to notice—and, for you, impossible not to think about.

It was a boy from his friend group, Jay, who interrupted the class chatter by slapping a hand down on the table and teasing, “Come on, Won. You don’t have a soulmate mark, my foot. No one gets off that easy.” The comment was light-hearted but loaded, and more than a few students turned to look.

To your surprise, Jungwon didn’t react with one of his usual witty comebacks or careless shrugs. Instead, he just rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of something almost vulnerable flashing across his face. “No, really,” he insisted, almost apologetically. “I don’t have one. I checked a million times as a kid.”

Your pen paused mid-note, and a slight, irrational disappointment prickled in your chest. It was hard to believe, especially about someone like Jungwon, whose very presence seemed destined to leave a mark on others. Soulmate marks might be rare, but someone like him not having one? It felt impossible, like a missing piece that no one noticed until it was too late.

For a fleeting moment, you wondered if maybe he just hadn’t found it yet. After all, some people only discovered their mark when it finally turned to color. Sometimes it wasn’t a visible spot on the skin but something far subtler—a shadow in the hue of their lips that would only brighten after a first kiss, or a darkness lingering in an eye, invisible until the gentle touch of someone wiping away their tears brought it to life. The thought sent a strange warmth to your cheeks as you glanced back toward him, wondering if Jungwon’s missing mark was just waiting for the right person to unlock it.

Still, he looked surprisingly honest, a faint hint of sadness clouding his otherwise bright gaze. For someone so magnetic, it was as if he was caught drifting in space, without any tether connecting him to anyone at all.

“Alright, alright,” Jay relented, raising his hands in surrender but laughing all the same. “Guess someone’s too cool to be fated to anyone, huh?”

The professor’s voice cut back in, and you forced yourself to refocus, though your mind lingered on Jungwon’s quiet expression and the flicker of something in his eyes, something both resigned and deeply private. Could he really be alone in a world where everyone else was bound to someone?

“Imagine having your mark on your knuckles,” Arin whispered beside you with a grin, oblivious to the moment that had just passed. “You’d probably knock your soulmate out before you even realized they were ‘the one’!”

Another round of laughter scattered through the room, like a shared inside joke. The air felt charged, as if everyone were suddenly curious about each other’s marks, glancing around with new eyes. You let out a small sigh, tapping your pen against your notebook with a faint smile. As much as you tried to keep up the class president, model-student act, the idea of soulmates fascinated you in a way you’d never quite admit.

When the bell finally rang, the room filled with that familiar end-of-class chaos. You started packing up, keeping your head down—until you noticed Jungwon slinging his bag over his shoulder, looking effortlessly put-together, as usual. He laughed at something his friend said, his expression relaxed, his dark eyes flickering with amusement. But you couldn’t help catching the faintest flicker of something else in his gaze as he glanced at his friends—like a momentary, unguarded look that felt… wistful?

Okay, maybe that was just you being overly imaginative.

You let out a little huff as you slung your own bag over your shoulder, shaking off the strange pity you’d felt moments before. So what if Jungwon didn’t have a mark? You barely even knew him. Well, you kind of knew him, but from a distance—and with way more daydreams than you’d like to admit. Still, it was silly to wonder about him, right? With your head full of these thoughts, you walked out into the hallway, lost in a world where maybe, just maybe, he was wondering about you, too.

And as you brushed past a group of friends, laughing and shoving each other, your hand slipped over the back of your knee, where your own mark was hidden—quiet, waiting, and as mysterious as ever.

The sky was an endless blue, stretching wide over the school field as your class spilled out onto the grass for PE. With the teacher conveniently on vacation, today’s instructions were simple: enjoy the free time. Most of your classmates took to the field, breaking off into little clusters for a lazy game of soccer, light stretches, or simple gossip sessions by the bleachers.

As class president, you took it upon yourself to ensure no one went too far or caused trouble. Your duty, as you saw it, was to survey your classmates from a slight distance, keeping an eye out with the calm, serious gaze you’d carefully perfected. Yet even from the sidelines, your eyes found themselves drifting toward a familiar figure on the field, drawn to him like magnets.

Jungwon was at the center of the field with his friends, casual and relaxed, but his every move carried an elegance that made your pulse skip. He was laughing at something his friend said, his eyes crinkling as he kicked the soccer ball back and forth, the glint of a confident smirk tugging at his lips. His ease on the field was mesmerizing, a mixture of strength and grace that made it hard to look away.

You reminded yourself to focus, scanning the field to check on the other groups. But before you could pull your attention back entirely, a voice called out, and you saw Jungwon pivot to chase the soccer ball—only for it to ricochet off his foot, headed directly toward you with alarming speed.

In the split second it took you to react, you felt a sharp thud against the back of your knees. The impact sent you stumbling forward, knees buckling beneath you as you tumbled to the ground. Pain flared up where the ball had struck, but it was drowned out by the shock of it all.

“Oh no—are you okay?” Jungwon’s voice was breathless with concern, his steps hurried as he reached you. You barely had a chance to process his arrival before he knelt beside you, face flushed and clearly panicked. His hand hovered awkwardly as if afraid to touch you, his usual calm replaced with something far more vulnerable.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to— Are you hurt?” he stammered, his voice unusually soft. He reached out gently, his hands carefully brushing against your arm as he tried to help you up. “Can you stand?”

Your mind struggled to catch up to the moment, and it took everything you had to keep your stoic demeanor intact. Jungwon was close, closer than he’d ever been, and the intensity of his worried gaze was unexpectedly disarming. Even as pain pulsed through your knee, you couldn’t help but stare, captivated by how intensely he focused on you, as if everything else in the world had fallen away.

“I’m fine, really,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. But as soon as you tried to stand, pain shot up your leg.

Jungwon’s expression shifted to one of determination, and before you could protest, he slid one arm under your knees and lifted you up, his other arm around your shoulders. The world tilted as he held you in a firm, steady grip, his face barely inches from yours. “We’re getting you to the nurse. No arguments.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned by his closeness, by the warmth radiating from him. “Oh—okay.” The words left your mouth almost on instinct, your brain still catching up with the fact that Jungwon was carrying you, his focus set entirely on you. His hands brushed your arm as he adjusted his grip, and you felt a strange warmth bloom under your skin, something unfamiliar and electric.

The walk to the nurse’s office was quiet, but you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze flickered to you, the gentleness in his expression as he murmured, “Sorry again. I’d never forgive myself if I hurt the class president.”

Your lips parted, searching for something to say, but the way he looked at you—soft, maybe even a bit shy—left you wordless. All you could do was nod, your heart pounding louder with each step as you held onto the feeling of his arms around you, wondering if he could hear it too.

It wasn’t until you glanced down that you noticed it—a faint shift of color beneath your knee where the ball had struck. The mark, once hidden and dark, now radiated a subtle but unmistakable bright yellow hue, soft and warm against your skin.

You froze, eyes wide, as the realization settled in. Jungwon was still mumbling apologies, unaware of the discovery you’d just made. Only he could have caused the mark to change; he was the only one who had touched that spot. The idea left you breathless, your mind scrambling to make sense of it all.

In the clinic, the nurse examined your knee with a quick, professional assessment. “You’ll be fine,” she declared, sending you off with an ice pack and a faint smile. But your thoughts were still racing, tangled up in the startling realization that Jungwon might actually be your soulmate.

The whole walk back to class, you replayed the moment in your mind, trying to make sense of it. Maybe it was a coincidence. Perhaps someone had brushed the back of your knee at some other time, and you simply hadn’t noticed. But deep down, you knew the truth—the mark had only changed when Jungwon touched you.

And when you returned to class, he was there, hovering near the door with a worried frown. He looked up as you approached, eyes bright with relief.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a slight smile breaking through the concern etched into his features. “I was worried about you.”

Your heart skipped as you nodded, doing your best to keep your voice steady. “I’m fine. Just… a bit shaken up, that’s all.” You felt the weight of the new secret pressing down on you, but you forced yourself to smile.

Jungwon’s shoulders relaxed, and he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in that effortlessly charming way of his. “I’m glad. I’ll be more careful with my aim next time.”

You smiled back, feeling the weight of the mark’s new color, of the quiet truth only you knew. As Jungwon returned to his seat, your gaze drifted to the back of your knee, where the mark lay hidden under the fabric of your clothes, now touched by color—by him.

In the days following the incident on the field, the world seemed to shift around you, humming with an energy you couldn’t quite shake. The back of your knee, where Jungwon’s touch had changed your soulmate mark to a soft, distinct yellow color, was a constant reminder of the possibility that your crush—Jungwon, the ever-handsome and kind soccer captain—might be something even more significant than you’d ever dared to imagine.

“How’s your knee?” he asked, his voice warm and tinged with that familiar gentleness that made your heart stutter.

“Oh, it’s fine, really!” You waved it off, attempting to tuck your leg further under your desk, hoping he wouldn’t notice the faint new color to the mark that still lingered behind your knee.

Jungwon didn’t seem to buy it. “Are you sure?” he asked, his brows furrowing as he leaned down, intent on seeing for himself. Before he could get a closer look, you tugged your skirt down a little farther, hiding the mark as best as you could.

“I’m sure, really,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone casual. “It’s just a little sore, nothing to worry about.”

For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze lingering on you, unreadable. Then he nodded, standing up with a quiet, sheepish smile. “Alright. I’ll trust you, but only if you promise to let me know if it starts hurting again.”

You managed a nod, clutching your books a little tighter to keep your hands steady. “I promise,” you said, hoping he didn’t notice the flicker of nerves in your eyes.

Your third shared class of the week was English, and just as the teacher assigned the day’s group work, the class began to shift into pairs. Coincidentally (or so you told yourself), the seating arrangement placed Jungwon near you that day.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft as he approached. He offered you one of his signature, heart-stopping smiles. “Mind if we pair up? I mean…if you’re okay with it.”

With an effort to keep your expression neutral, you nodded. “Sure,” you replied, your voice steady even though your heart was anything but.

Settling at a table near the window, you both pulled out your notebooks. The task was straightforward—analyzing a poem about soulmates. You caught a breath at the irony, and Jungwon, seemingly unfazed, began reading the passage aloud. His voice, low and calm, wove through the words as you listened, though your mind kept wandering to his every movement, the way his eyes flickered thoughtfully over the page, how his fingers held the pencil lightly but with intention.

“What do you think?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, willing your focus back to the assignment. “I think…well, it’s romantic. But it’s also kind of tragic, right? There’s always this sense of waiting—like, what if they don’t meet?”

Jungwon’s gaze flickered up, lingering on your face a little longer than necessary. “Yeah, that’s true,” he agreed, his voice thoughtful. “The idea that you’re waiting your whole life for just one person…it’s a lot of pressure.”

He paused, eyes settling on you, as if searching for something beneath the calm exterior you held so tightly. “Do you… believe in it? Soulmates, I mean?”

Caught off guard, you looked down, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of your notebook. You thought of your parents, of their own lovely story about finding each other through their marks, and how you’d grown up with those tales of destiny. And now, here you were, sitting with the very boy who might be your own fated match.

“I think,” you began slowly, “that I want to believe in it. My parents…they have one of those classic stories. It’s hard not to believe in soulmates when you’ve heard stories like that all your life.”

He nodded, listening intently. “I get that. I guess…sometimes I wonder what it would be like. But it’s hard to picture when you don’t…you know, have any marks yourself.”

The quiet sadness in his tone took you by surprise. You’d never considered what it might be like to go through life without a soulmate mark, to feel like something intrinsic was missing, a feeling that destiny had passed you by. Suddenly, your thoughts flickered back to the legends the elders told—how markless people were said to carry the weight of unrequited love from a past life, doomed to wander without a soulmate to mark them in this one. The idea hung heavy in the air, mingling with your sympathy for him.

“Maybe it doesn’t matter, then,” you murmured, almost to yourself. “Maybe people without marks find their person too, in other ways.” You couldn’t help but think that perhaps Jungwon was one of those souls, burdened by a love that never came to fruition.

The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. Jungwon seemed lost in thought, his gaze drifting out the window as he considered your words. And just then, a strange sense of comfort washed over you, knowing that even if he was unaware of it, you shared a connection that went beyond what either of you could see.

“Maybe,” he said finally, and then he flashed you a lopsided grin. “Well, even if soulmates are real, maybe it’s a good thing I’m mark-free. I don’t think I’d want someone to find out I was their soulmate because I hit them with a soccer ball.”

His laughter rang out, and you couldn’t help but join him, but beneath the mirth, your heart clenched. You wanted to tell him everything—to reveal the secret that could bridge the chasm between you. But as the words formed on your lips, fear gripped you. What if you were wrong? What if he truly didn’t have a soulmate mark, and this moment of connection was just a fleeting illusion?

So you swallowed hard, plastering a smile on your face that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Well, let’s just keep that between us, then,” you replied, hoping to mask the anxiety swirling inside you.

Inside, the truth weighed heavy, a secret that felt more like a burden than a bond. Keeping it hidden seemed safer, easier—even if it left you feeling like a ghost, drifting alongside him but never truly reaching out. The thought of him being one of those markless souls—the ones who carried the pain of a love never realized—made you ache. You didn’t want him to feel that emptiness, and yet, here you were, hiding a truth that might shatter the fragile connection you shared.

Perhaps it was better this way. Better to hold onto your heartache in silence than risk shattering the bond you had built, no matter how tenuous it felt. As you returned to the assignment, the bittersweet taste of longing lingered on your tongue, mixing with the thrill of possibility, leaving you torn between the hope of what could be and the fear of what might never come to pass.

Finally, during your biology class, your teacher assigned a laboratory cleaning rotation. By the luck of the draw—or maybe a twist of fate—you found yourself paired with Jungwon. It was supposed to be a simple task, but as the two of you gathered supplies and began tidying up the classroom after hours, you felt the weight of every quiet moment.

Jungwon appeared beside you as you straightened a stack of textbooks, arms full of markers and erasers. His casual, laid-back attitude only heightened the quiet thrill that being near him sparked in you. As he handed you an eraser, your fingers brushed slightly, and you pulled back quickly, heart racing.

"Are you always this… serious?" Jungwon teased, his lips curving into a half-smile. "I mean, you don’t have to look like we’re cleaning the whole school."

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “It’s just how I work. I take tasks seriously.”

He nodded, still smiling. “You’re impressive, you know. It’s like…you’re always so composed, like nothing rattles you.”

Caught off guard by his observation, you froze momentarily, not sure how to respond. Behind your serious exterior, you were anything but composed—especially around him. Before you could answer, he turned away to tidy the bookshelves, leaving you wondering if he’d picked up on the effect he had on you.

After a while, Jungwon returned to the task at hand, dusting off a few of the windowsills. It was quiet for a few minutes, the sounds of your combined effort filling the room. You both worked in sync, a silent rhythm that had developed without either of you realizing it. And then, with an abruptness that caught you off guard, he spoke again.

“Hey,” he said, hesitating. “I know this might be a weird question, but… where’s your soulmate mark?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications you weren’t ready to unravel. Your heart thudded as you carefully set down the books you’d been holding, gathering your thoughts.

You felt a flush creep up your cheeks. "Um, it's… it's on my knee," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The intimacy of the moment made you shy, and you instinctively shifted your weight, the hem of your skirt falling to cover your knee even more.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, curiosity glimmering in his eyes. “Oh? Is it… already in color?”

You hesitated for a brief moment, weighing your words. “Uh, yeah,” you replied, biting your lip. “It changed a while ago. But it’s not a big deal.” You left out the part about him possibly being your soulmate, feeling the weight of that truth settle heavily in the air between you.

His expression shifted slightly, disappointment flashing across his features before he masked it with a casual smile. “That’s cool,” he said, his voice a bit quieter now. “I guess… it must be nice to have that certainty.”

“Yeah,” you said, trying to keep the mood light despite the sudden heaviness in your chest. “I mean, it’s comforting, I suppose.”

But beneath your words, a sense of longing stirred. You noticed how his gaze faltered for a moment, and it struck you then how much he had hoped for something different. He had seemed eager, maybe even hopeful, and the realization stung a little.

Jungwon cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over you both. “So, um… did you see the last soccer game?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. “I think we really need to work on our defense.”

His attempt at lightheartedness felt slightly forced, and you could see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Still, it was nice to see him trying to shake off the heaviness from moments before.

“Yeah, I caught a bit of it,” you replied, grateful for the shift in focus. “You guys played well, though a couple of those goals were pretty close calls.”

He chuckled, the tension easing just a little. “Yeah, I think I almost gave our coach a heart attack with that last-minute save,” he said, grinning. It was an infectious smile, and you found yourself smiling back despite the weight still resting in the back of your mind.

The annual school festival arrived faster than expected, and the campus buzzed with activity and excitement. Classrooms were transformed into themed booths, hallways were draped with handmade decorations, and students wore colorful festival shirts and badges, their faces bright with paint and laughter. You found yourself stationed at the face-painting booth, brush in hand, ready to tackle the endless line of eager students.

You’d always enjoyed events like these—participating in the festival offered you a rare chance to relax and feel connected to your classmates outside of the usual seriousness you maintained as class president. Here, you were just another student, painting stars, hearts, and stripes on familiar faces.

“Hey, what’s up? Need a painter?” your friend Taeyoung called out to the next group approaching your booth. You followed his gaze and felt your heart skip when you recognized Jungwon and his friends heading your way, laughing and jostling each other. He wore a loose festival shirt with sleeves rolled up, a casual look that somehow made him even more handsome. You quickly glanced down, suddenly hyper-aware of your paintbrushes and the paper towels you clutched a little too tightly.

The booth was busy, and with most of your fellow painters occupied, it didn’t take long for Taeyoung to pair Jungwon with you. “Hey, Y/N, looks like you’ve got a VIP customer! Captain Jungwon wants to be a canvas today,” he said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he nudged Jungwon playfully.

Jungwon chuckled, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—an eagerness mixed with a hint of shyness. “Yeah, I guess I’m in your hands now,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “No pressure, right?”

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure as your heart raced. “Uh, right! No pressure at all,” you replied, your voice a little too bright. “What do you have in mind?”

You forced yourself to meet Jungwon’s eyes, fighting back the nervous excitement bubbling in your chest. “So… what would you like?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jungwon’s usual confident smile softened a little, and he seemed slightly hesitant, rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture that made your stomach flutter. “Maybe a couple of stars on my cheeks? And… maybe a small cat on my forehead?”

You stifled a laugh at his request, realizing that behind his composed demeanor, he had a playful side you hadn’t seen before. “A star and a cat. Got it,” you whispered, dipping your brush into white paint. You reached out carefully to steady his face, tilting it slightly toward the light. Your fingers lightly touched his cheek, and you couldn’t ignore the spark that jolted through you at the contact.

Jungwon closed his eyes briefly, letting out a small breath. You tried to ignore the slight flush you felt creeping up your neck, focusing on drawing a perfect star on his left cheek. You painted in silence, but every so often, he’d open his eyes and glance at you, making your heart race each time.

With one cheek finished, you moved to the other side. He leaned in closer, giving you the perfect angle. The space between you seemed to shrink with every second, the sounds of the bustling festival fading into a distant hum. You were hyper-aware of everything—the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from him, and how your fingers gently brushed his skin. When you finished with the stars, you pulled back slightly to look at your work, meeting his gaze as you did.

“They look good,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

You swallowed, breaking eye contact to reach for a new brush and dip it in black paint. “Now for the cat,” you said, trying to stay calm. “Hold still.”

You carefully moved to part his hair at the center of his forehead. As your fingers brushed through his bangs, you froze, your eyes widening as you saw something strange—a small patch of his dark hair was shifting, lightening to a soft honey-blonde under your touch.

“Um… Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you stared at the transformed lock of hair falling against his forehead. “Your hair…”

“What about it?” He turned to you with a hint of confusion, glancing up as if trying to catch a glimpse of the change. “Did I mess it up?”

You shook your head, the words tangling in your throat as disbelief washed over you. “It’s… it’s changing color.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard, then brushed his fingers through the area you’d touched. His movements stilled, the warmth in his expression fading, replaced by something deeper—something unreadable. The air thickened around you, a heavy silence filled with unspoken questions.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, his gaze searching yours as if trying to decode the truth hidden beneath your surprise.

You nodded slowly, your heart racing. “Yeah, I… I thought it was just the paint at first, but… it’s definitely not.”

The realization hung in the air, electric and palpable, igniting a spark of tension that sent shivers down your spine. Jungwon’s fingers gently traced the newly lightened strands of hair, his expression a mix of wonder and trepidation. You could feel your pulse quicken, an exhilarating rush flooding through you as you grasped the meaning behind this strange phenomenon.

Time seemed to stretch in that moment, each heartbeat echoing like a drum in your chest. Here he was, the boy you’d admired from afar, unexpectedly transformed before your eyes. Jungwon—the one who had unwittingly painted your world in vibrant colors, now literally changing right in front of you.

Suddenly, self-consciousness washed over you like a cold wave. You averted your gaze, stepping back instinctively. “I—I should go finish with the others. They’re probably waiting for me…” Your voice wavered, betraying the rush of emotions threatening to spill over.

Before you could dwell on it, a paint container wobbled on the edge of the table, knocking into your elbow. In your panic, you stumbled, sending brushes and colors sprawling over yourself. “Oh no!” you yelped, scrambling to clean up the mess.

“Y/N, wait!” Jungwon exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. He stepped closer, his hand closing around yours, halting your frantic movements. “Stop. Just breathe.”

His grip was steadying, grounding you amidst the chaos of your racing thoughts. “Let’s find somewhere quiet, okay? You need to clean up.” His voice held a calmness that contrasted sharply with the storm inside you.

You felt a rush of warmth at his concern, but your mind spun with confusion. “But… the booth—”

“Trust me,” he said, his gaze unwavering, a silent promise passing between you. “Just for a moment. Let’s talk.”

With a nod, you allowed him to guide you away from the festival’s noise, your heart racing not just from the moment, but from the undeniable connection building between you. The thrill of discovery was tempered by the anxiety of what it all meant, and yet, in Jungwon’s presence, you felt something shift—something new and exciting, just waiting to be explored.

He led you through a quieter section of the campus, where the walls were lined with colorful murals painted by students, the air filled with the faint scent of paint and creativity. The laughter and chatter from the festival faded into the background, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves overhead and the distant sound of music drifting from the booths.

As you turned a corner, Jungwon paused, the air around you suddenly thick with anticipation. He glanced around, ensuring you were alone, then leaned against the cool brick wall, his posture relaxed yet focused. His gaze locked onto yours, intensity radiating from him. “My hair… it’s slowly turning blond. Isn’t this what soulmate marks are supposed to be like?”

His words hung in the air, electrifying the space between you. You felt the weight of the moment press down, your heart racing like a wild drum in your chest. “Right… your soulmate mark,” you stammered, the tremor in your voice betraying the chaos inside. “I didn’t want to say anything because I thought it might just be a coincidence, but now… it's all starting to make sense.”

Jungwon stepped closer, the seriousness in his expression deepening. “You mean you knew?” His voice was low, the edge of urgency evident. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

The air crackled with tension, and you felt your pulse quicken. “I didn’t know it was you! I thought—” you cut yourself off, frustration bubbling within you. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship or make things awkward. You’ve been my crush longer than you’ve been a friend. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep things from being awkward with you, especially when my mark changed?”

Jungwon’s expression shifted, vulnerability breaking through his confidence. “Your mark... is it.… when did it change? Am I—was it before… or after we met?” His voice was tight, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

You took a deep breath, feeling the memories rush back. “The day you carried me to the nurse’s office, you idiot.”

He blinked, taken aback by your response. “Wait… that day? But I thought...”

His expression softened slightly, the intensity in his eyes shifting as he took a step closer. You held your breath as he knelt down, his fingers hovering over your soulmate mark. The moment felt electric, a mix of vulnerability and anticipation coursing through you.

“Can I…?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, giving him permission to touch it. As his fingers brushed against your skin, a shiver ran down your spine. Jungwon chuckled softly, the sound breaking some of the tension between you. “Can you believe this? It feels just like yesterday when I accidentally hit my crush with a soccer ball at her knees,” he said, shaking his head with a bemused smile. “The same crush I’ve wanted to approach since 10th grade but was always too afraid to mess up, especially with how she glares at boys.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the image of a younger Jungwon fumbling with his words as he tried to impress you suddenly vivid in your mind. “I didn’t mean to scare you off,” you admitted, your heart swelling with warmth. “I thought you were just… confident, you know?”

He shrugged, a hint of shyness creeping back into his demeanor. “I try to be. But it’s hard when you’re crushing on someone who’s out of your league.”

“Out of my league?” you repeated, incredulous. “Jungwon, you’re the captain of the soccer team! Everyone looks up to you.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m not nervous around you,” he replied, his gaze locking onto yours, sincerity pouring from his words. “It’s different with you. You make me want to be better.”

The air between you thickened with unspoken emotions, each heartbeat echoing the connection that had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged. You both stood on the edge of something monumental, the laughter of the festival fading away, leaving only the two of you and the promise of what lay ahead.

The next day, Jungwon strolled confidently down the hallway, his head of hair transformed into a stunning honeyed blonde that turned heads with every step. The shift was striking—bold, noticeable, and oddly fitting—making it seem as though he had always intended to embrace this change. Whispers and awestruck glances followed him like a gentle wave, yet beneath that cool exterior, you could see the spark of mischief in his eyes, especially when they met yours.

“Wow, he really went all out,” Arin murmured beside you, her voice a mix of surprise and admiration. “He must’ve bleached the whole thing. I didn’t think Jungwon had that in him.”

You nodded, trying to maintain your composure while your heart raced. “Yeah… surprising, isn’t it?” you replied, though a smile betrayed your nonchalance as you watched him navigate the crowd like he owned the place.

Unaware of the true significance of his transformation, your classmates continued their commentary. “Looks good on him, though,” one girl remarked, her tone infused with genuine admiration. “Like he was meant to have it all along.”

Jungwon seemed completely unfazed by the attention, wearing his new look with a blend of pride and ease, as if his blonde hair was a badge of honor that only you understood. It was a mark that connected the two of you in ways that no one else could fathom—an intimate secret wrapped in boldness.

As the hallway thinned out, he lingered by his locker, his casual demeanor slipping just a bit as he caught your gaze from across the hall. He lifted a hand, brushing back his hair with an effortless charm that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach—a subtle nod to the secret you shared.

You walked over, your heart pounding just a little faster than usual. “It suits you,” you said, keeping your voice low, the air between you thick with unspoken words.

His eyes softened, gratitude shimmering in their depths. “Good to know,” he murmured, his tone low but filled with warmth. “After all, it’s your fault it looks this good.”

A faint blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and before you could respond, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice even more as he added, “And don’t worry. The secret’s safe.”

In that crowded hallway, with laughter and footsteps echoing around you, it felt like you and Jungwon were enveloped in your own little world. His blonde hair, like a silent vow, was a reminder of what only the two of you understood: a hidden connection, pulsing with promise and anticipation, waiting to be explored.

1K notes · View notes

plutotheplum · 2 months ago

Text

Close to You

sylus x fem!reader

summary: a sleepy morning with sylus results in unravelled feelings.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, friends with benefits to lovers, smut, fluff, oral sex, vaginal fingering, mutual masturbation, face-sitting, p in v, handjob, dom/sub undertones, aftercare

wc: 4.9k

a/n: i fear i am obsessed with the man

also on ao3!

It’s wonderfully warm.

That’s what you think when you begin to stir, eyes blinking open blearily as soft rays of sunlight pour into the room, having snuck through the gaps in the curtains. A yawn escapes you and you squirm under the blankets, pressing your face back into the warmth of Sylus’ chest.

His arms tighten around you and a smile tugs at your lips, legs tangling with his.

“Morning,” he rasps, his voice deeper than usual, laced with the remnants of sleep.

“Morning,” you whisper back, lips pressing against his chest in a soft kiss.

Sylus cups the back of your head, his large hand stroking over your hair gently and you sigh, letting your eyes slip back shut.

He’d stopped by last night, said he had some information about a group of abnormally acting Wanderers. One thing had led to another however, and you’d let him stay the night, his body pressed up against yours.

“Stay,” he grumbles when he feels you try to pull away, his face burying into your hair.

“I have work,” you murmur back, twisting your head to glance at the clock beside your bed.

The glowing numbers tell you that you’ve slept in, and you groan, slumping back down as you realize you were most definitely going to be late.

“Call in sick,” Sylus replies, his hands squeezing at your waist.

You want to deny him, but Sylus knows you better than you know yourself. You can never find it in yourself to truly resist him, not when he pets across your body so soothingly anyways. You just hope it doesn’t turn into a repetitive occurrence, it’s not like you can keep missing work whenever you feel like being wrapped up in his arms to make out with him lazily.

Reaching for your phone, you write out a quick text, sending it to Jenna to tell her you’d come down with a sudden fever. You can feel Sylus’ lips on your forehead beginning to drift and you tilt your head, letting him land a kiss to your cheek as he caresses your hip.

“You’re a bad influence,” you whisper, feeling his hand creep up under his shirt that you’re wearing.

“Maybe so,” Sylus says, shooting you a smile.

You bite your lip when his thumb swipes the underside of your breast, his calloused fingers spreading across the skin of your breast before finding your nipple. His red eyes bore into yours and you don’t let your gaze slip away, mouth opening to let a soft moan spill out as he tugs and pinches at your nipple.

“You look so pretty like this, sweetie,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours.

Sylus doesn’t kiss you and you don’t make any move to kiss him either. It’s what makes the push and pull between you and Sylus so rewarding, he riles you up and you rile him up until one of you snaps. It’s what you’d done last night anyways, bent over the arm of the couch in a short skirt with your ass in the air, pink panties bared to his eyes as you’d grabbed the tv remote that you had accidentally dropped.

Too bad your panties hadn’t survived the onslaught of his hungry mouth, his fingers getting impatient until he’d ripped the flimsy fabric off of you and fucked you right there in your skirt.

The feeling of his mouth on your neck draws you out of your thoughts, letting him play with your breasts as he trails hot kisses down your skin. Your arms loop around his neck, fingers splaying across his broad back. You can feel his muscles flex as he moves his arm, both of you panting softly as he gropes at the fat of your breasts.

“Ask for it, baby,” Sylus whispers, rolling the hardened nub between his fingers.

You shake your head, gritting your teeth when you feel him roll his hips against your side, the feeling of his half-hard cock making arousal pool between your thighs.

“No,” you pant out, biting your lip as your back arches, “you ask for it.”

Sylus lets out a low laugh, nosing against your cheek as he presses another kiss to your skin. “You know I’m not one to beg.”

“First time for everything,” you retort, pressing your breast into his warm palm firmly, fingers trailing down his bare chest.

A smile spreads across your face when his cheeks flush, your hand drifting lower and lower until your hand presses against the hot bulge of his cock through his thin pajama pants. Sylus groans at the feeling of your hand and you wrap it around his heavy length, now fully hardened.

“So hard for me,” you coo, batting your eyelashes up at him as you drag your hand up and down. The hitch of his breath is welcome and has you feeling bolder, tongue licking across his sternum.

“Dirty, little whore,” Sylus hisses, his fingers digging into your side as you hook your leg over his hip and press yourself closer. “Always pushing me, aren’t you?”

You grin, letting him roll his hips into your hand as you kiss across his chest, the sound of your lips on his skin emanating through the room. Sylus grabs at your ass, pulling you up so that you're settled on his lap, your knees bracketing his hips.

“Look good like this,” you murmur breathlessly, palming at his cock a little more.

The imprint of his cock is clear, pre-cum causing a dark spot to appear on the fabric. Your fingers trail over his length, eyes entranced as you watch it twitch under your touch. His fingers grasp at the shirt, pushing it up and feeding the fabric into your mouth. Half-lidded eyes stare down at him, the hem of the shirt bitten between your teeth.

“Pretty baby,” Sylus whispers, his gaze trailing over your exposed breasts and stomach, down to where a pair of white panties sit snug on your hips. You hope he won’t rip them, but his fingers grasp at the material, pulling up and a sharp gasp leaves you, your panties digging into your cunt deliciously. “Greedy pussy, hm? Can feel you dripping all over my cock.”

You send him a glare, shirt falling back down to cover your body from his wandering eyes.

“You’re annoying,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

Sylus only grins and tries to pull the shirt back up again, but you swat his hand away and stay seated on his lap stubbornly. He clicks his tongue, red eyes darkening at your challenge.

“Stop being a brat,” he warns, fingers tapping against your thighs.

“Or what?” you reply, raising your brows. You give him an innocent look, letting your lower lip jut out into a pout.

“Or I’ll fuck you until you-”

You don’t give him a chance to finish, crawling up his body. Sylus’ eyes widen for a moment, confusion flitting across his face until he realizes what you’re doing. Your clothed cunt settles onto his mouth and he groans, nosing at your panties to breathe you in.

“Much better when you don’t speak,” you sigh, running your fingers through his snowy hair.

You’ll have to pay for your boldness later, but you don’t care, biting your lip as you roll your hips against his face. Sylus licks at you through your panties, his hands coming up to grab at your thighs and squeeze at the fat.

“Just like that,” you whisper, head tipping back as he sucks at your slick through the fabric of your panties.

Your hips roll and rock as you please, fingers gripping his hair. Sylus moves your panties to the side before long and you gasp, body doubling over as he licks across your bare cunt.

“Oh- oh fuck!” you mewl, writhing atop his mouth when he thumbs apart your folds to spit on your pussy.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Sylus rasps, his fingers gripping your thighs a bit firmer to push you onto his mouth again.

His tongue glides through your folds a few times, flicks at your clit lazily and kisses the swollen little bud gently before he tugs your weight down onto his face fully. A loud squeal leaves you and you think you’ve bitten off more than you can chew, seeing stars behind your eyelids as he eats you out hungrily.

“Sy- Sylus!” His name sounds in a wail, and he simply grunts into your cunt, fingers dimpling into the fat of your ass as he slurps and sucks like a man starved.

The sounds of his mouth on your cunt are horribly lewd, and your fingers don’t know where to latch onto, alternating between tugging on his hair and grasping at the rumpled sheets beside his head. Mindless chants escape you, wet pussy rubbing against his face unabashedly and across his tongue as he holds it there for you to grind against.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper, your hand landing over his as he pushes the shirt up to grip one your tits.

He squeezes roughly and you moan, grabbing his wrist to guide his hand higher, closing your mouth around his fingers. You suck desperately, tongue swirling and eyes slipping shut as your hands curl around his wrist and forearm tightly. Sylus groans into your pussy again and your hazy eyes peer down to find his crimson ones staring right back at you.

A drunken smile spreads across your face and you lick at the pads of his fingers before kissing them. His eyes narrow and you moan when he spanks your ass at your display of blatant brattiness. It does little to deter you, mouth sucking his fingers in deeper until he spanks you again and sucks your clit into his mouth harshly.

You come with a cry, body shaking and thighs trembling. Sylus moves you off of him and you mumble out an apology for suffocating him, slumping against the bed as he pulls you into his chest and kisses your forehead.

It’s a little too intimate for what you two are to each other, but you’re secretly grateful for the bits of affection he gives you. Sylus doesn’t need to know that you’re starved of it, although you think he might’ve picked up on it with how clingy you’ve become, insisting that it was okay for him to stay the night only a few weeks after you two had first slept together.

“That was nice,” you slur softly, droopy eyes peering up into his.

Sylus huffs out a laugh, his hands petting at your sides. “I’m sure it was.”

Your slick glistens over his mouth and his chin and you sit up, tugging his shirt over your head and handing it to him. Sylus uses it to wipe his mouth and tosses it behind him, the fabric landing on the floor of your bedroom.

“Think I deserve a kiss for all that,” Sylus says, his nose nudging against yours.

You nod your assent, tits squished up against his firm chest as his lips meet yours. Sylus kisses you messily, tongue slipping into your mouth almost immediately so you can taste yourself on his tongue. A soft whine leaves you, returning his kisses with just as much fervor as you let your hand drift down, dipping into his pajama pants to grasp his hard cock.

His hips buck into your hand at the feeling and you smile against his lips, slowing the kiss to something more languid and lazy as you drag your hand up and down his throbbing cock.

“Hand feels so fuckin’ good, baby” Sylus sighs against your lips.

You hum, tilting your head to kiss his cheek and then his jaw. Pre-cum wets your hand, the slick noises of his cock filling the room as you stroke his cock for him. Sylus moans into your mouth, his hands unable to stop touching you as he grips the fat of your ass and then your hips.

“‘m sensitive,” you whine when his hand slips between your thighs, the pads of his fingers rubbing over your clit.

“You can take it,” he whispers back, kissing you again as he slips two fingers inside of you.

You’re both panting again, meeting each other’s kisses with the same passion. His cock throbs in your hand and Sylus lets out a low moan when you tighten your fingers around him and let your thumb brush over his leaky tip.

“How cute,” you tease when you see the tips of his ears flush pink, his eyes half-lidded and chest rising and falling at an increasing pace as you twist your wrist and move your hand a little faster.

“You’re going to regret this,” Sylus replies hoarsely, his face tucking into the crook of your neck as he fucks his cock into your hand.

A half-laugh, half-moan escapes you when he curls his fingers inside of you, quickening the pace of his fingers as he fucks them in and out of you. Your other hand joins the mix, cupping his heavy balls. Sylus lets out a strained moan, his hips thrusting harder into the heat of your hand as you play with his balls, massaging and caressing them.

It’s a stark change from how he usually acts. Sylus is just as needy as you, despite being the leader of an illegal faction from within the N109 Zone. At least with each other, you both get to indulge in what you want. It’s how you came to this agreement anyways, a little coaxing from Sylus and some carefully placed kisses later and you were agreeing almost immediately.

His fingers move faster, scissoring inside of you to draw out more whiny gasps from your throat, his thumb joining to rub at your swollen clit. A whimper breaks out of you, body shuddering as you cum on his fingers, your hands stuttering as you struggle to keep them moving through the haze of your orgasm.

Sylus lets out a growly moan, shoving his face deeper into the crook of your neck as he comes. You can feel his heavy breaths of air against your neck, the rise and fall of his chest when his cum coats your fingers and smears across his abdomen. It’s hot and thick, and you whine, wanting him to kiss you again.

He lifts his head sluggishly, slots his lips over yours and kisses you until you can’t breathe. You want to wrap your arms around his neck, but your hands are covered in his cum so you pout until he pulls your wrists out from where you’ve begun to stroke him again slowly.

“Always so cockhungry,” he tuts, guiding your fingers to your face.

You smile dazedly and make a show of licking your fingers clean. Sylus groans and leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss, his hips jerking slightly when you push your tongue into his mouth, feeding him his cum.

Sylus squeezes at your waist and you press yourself closer, letting out a contented hum. He smooths his hand up and down your back, rubbing soothingly circles into your skin.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” he murmurs.

You nod, arms looping around his neck as he picks you up and carries you into the bathroom. Sylus sets you down onto the countertop of the vanity, his fingers tracing over your jaw for a moment before he reaches for your toothbrush. You watch him, sated and sleepy, mouth opening for him as he presses your toothbrush against your lips.

The action in and of itself speaks volumes for friends that are just fucking, but neither of you feel the need to address it. Your eyes slip shut as he brushes your teeth for you, his hand cupping your jaw to hold you in place. Sylus kisses your cheek, his thumb smoothing over the line of your jaw gently.

“Rinse,” Sylus says, handing you a glass of water.

You do as he says, rinsing your mouth free of toothpaste and leaning forward to land a quick peck to his lips. Sylus grins, crimson eyes flashing with amusement as he watches you hop down onto the tiled floor with trembling thighs.

“Don’t laugh!” you protest, swatting his chest.

“It’s cute,” he drawls, helping hold you steady as you reach down to pull your panties off. “You’re always like this.”

An annoyed grumble leaves you as you step into the shower, eyes catching on the red welts running down his back, courtesy of your nails during the throes of pleasure last night.

You catch his eyes in the mirror, voice a little airy as you speak. “Red looks good on you.”

The shower door slides shut before he can respond, a small smile settling on your lips as you let your body loosen under the hot water. Sylus doesn’t join you, and secretly you’re grateful. You’d probably be tempted to have him take you under the spray of water, but your body is still sore from last night, thighs a little achy.

You finish up quickly, a yawn leaving you as your hands grab for the towel to wrap around your wet body. You step out of the shower, squeaking when you nearly collide with Sylus’ chest.

“Relax,” he mutters, gripping your chin and tilting your head up to kiss you.

You melt into it, lips working against his, feeling him back you up against the shower door.

“Stop doing that,” you mumble against his lips, hands landing on his chest.

“You like it when I kiss you,” Sylus replies, his forehead resting against yours.

You do. You really do. No one’s ever kissed you like he has and you’ve never had someone display such passion towards you. It makes you feel wanted, makes you feel cared for.

“Go shower,” you whisper, letting him kiss you one more time before you’re pushing at his chest gently, squirming out from under him.

Sylus grunts in dissatisfaction when you escape his grasp, running his hand through his hair as he watches you leave, that little towel wrapped around your body making him want to bend you over the vanity and fuck into you until you’re creaming on his cock again. He doesn’t though, lets you go instead and steps under the shower himself.

Another yawn leaves you, your arms stretching above your head after you get dressed, pulling on a pair of comfortable sleep shorts and an oversized shirt. Sylus has finished up in the shower by the time you’ve made coffee, his footfalls sounding through your apartment as he steps up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“I have another auction coming up,” Sylus says, his chin resting on the top of your head as you dump a spoonful of sugar into your hot beverage.

“What’s that got to do with me?” you ask, turning your head to peer up at him.

“Having a Hunter by my side would make things far easier,” he replies, squeezing at your sides, “besides, I’d have to go to all the trouble of finding a date.”

“So find one,” you retort, spinning his arms to hand him his cup of coffee, “I’m not in the mood for a repeat of what happened last time.”

“You wound me,” Sylus murmurs, his eyes boring into yours intently, “aren’t I being generous?”

You roll your eyes at his feigned hurt, although the slight furrow of his brows has you second-guessing whether he is actually hurt by your rejection. You brush the thought away, telling yourself that you're imagining things.

“No,” you say simply, shaking your head and taking a sip of your coffee.

“My black card,” Sylus counters, setting his mug of coffee down, “no limits.”

You scoff, raising your brows. “Are you trying to buy me out?”

“Hardly,” he replies, “I’m letting you buy whatever it is you desire.”

Your lips purse, eyes narrowing at the man suspiciously. You don’t why he’s being so insistent, when he most likely has access to an endless supply of women. He raises his brows and you shake your head again, refusing his offer.

Sylus’ jaw clenches, his fingers tightening into your shirt. “Why must you deny me?”

“I’m not denying you,” you say, setting your own cup of coffee down, “I just don’t want to go.”

“Is the thought of being with me that unappealing?”

“I didn’t say that!” you protest, irritation pricking at your skin.

Sylus stares down at you, his lips thinning. He’s never gotten angry at you before, and you don’t understand why he’s starting now. Another scoff leaves you when he pushes away from you suddenly, his fingers reaching for the keys to his bike.

“What is wrong with you?” you snap, stealing his keys before he gets them.

“You’ve been pushing me away,” Sylus hisses, glaring down at you.

“Pushing you away?” you echo, shaking your head, “we’ve been together since last night!”

“For a Hunter, you are infuriatingly dense,” he shoots back.

Your breath hitches when he suddenly cups your cheeks, his body drawing closer until you're trapped between him and the kitchen counter. His keys drop from your hand, landing on the floor with a clatter.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sylus whispers, his head lowering, “I want more.”

“M- more what?” you sputter, trying to lean away from him. Sylus doesn’t let you, his forehead pressing against yours.

“More of this,” he says firmly, “more of you, more of us.”

You blink up at him, words getting stuck in your throat. In hindsight, your intuition was right. Sylus cups the back of your head, drawing you into a kiss. It’s hungry and all-consuming, a soft mewl spilling from your mouth as he smooths his thumb over your cheek gently.

“Let me have you,” Sylus whispers.

“I didn’t take you for a romantic,” you mutter weakly.

Sylus rolls his eyes, hands finding the backs of your thighs as he scoops you up into his arms.

“My- my coffee!” you whine.

“Forget about the stupid coffee,” Sylus dismisses, dumping you onto your bed before crawling over you, his hips settling between your thighs.

Your eyes widen, his actions tugging at your heart uncomfortably as he smooths his hands over your hair, cradling your head as he lands soft kisses across the expanse of your face.

“Oh,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut, “you like me. You like me a lot.”

“Should’ve been obvious,” Sylus grumbles, his face pressing into the crook of your neck petulantly.

There’s no more teasing when he rolls his hips, an airy gasp escaping you as he grinds his hard cock into you. Sylus reaches for your hands, pinning them on either side of your head, his fingers lacing with yours.

“I need this,” he murmurs, “I need you.”

“You- ah- you have me.”

“Not yet,” Sylus whispers.

You watch with half-lidded eyes as he draws back and pulls your shorts down your legs. Sylus frees his cock from his sweatpants, shuffling forward until he places his cock snug between your folds.

“Watch,” he orders, squeezing your hip.

You do watch. You watch with your lower lip bitten, fighting the urge to let your head tip back as he rubs his cock along your folds, the flushed tip of it disappearing before appearing again. The head of his cock nudges against your clit, his pre-cum beginning to drip in fat globs already, coating the swollen bud.

His fingers find yours again, body moving atop yours as he continues to grind his fat cock against your pussy.

“Could have this cock everyday,” Sylus says, squeezing your hands. “Hm? Doesn’t that sound good? I’ll fuck you nice and slow then cuddle you after. All you have to do is be a good girl and ask.”

“Y-yes,” you whimper, hips bucking to try and get his cock to slip inside your achy hole, “Sylus, please.”

“Tell me, baby,” he coaxes, his lips brushing your jaw.

“I- I want you,” you gasp out, eyes wide and earnest, “so please, please stay with me.”

“Good girl,” Sylus praises, his hand gripping the base of his cock.

You whine when he presses the head of it into you, the rest of his fat length following as he sinks into you, inch after inch. It’s different than before, somehow you’re acutely aware of how his body feels on yours, how his cock is stuffing you full.

He kisses your forehead, his eyes never straying from yours as he holds your hands again. Your legs lock around him immediately, mouth falling open as he begins to fuck into you slowly.

“This cock is all yours,” Sylus groans, “I’m all yours, baby.”

“Then- hah- then don’t leave,” you manage out breathlessly, “o-okay, Sylus?”

“Not going anywhere,” the white-haired man affirms.

Sylus kisses you deeply and fucks you slowly, making sure you feel every ridge on his cock as he slides through your clenching walls. Soft moans fill the air, both of you unraveling under each other’s touch. You let go of his hands in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his forehead and letting him tuck his face back into the crook of your neck.

His thumb rubs at your puffy clit and you’re seizing up, back arching as your body draws taut.

“Ha- nngh! ‘m gonna- fuck- ‘m gonna cum!” you cry, fisting his hair in your hand and pulling hard.

Sylus hisses at the feeling, his mouth closing around your tit, sucking your nipple into his mouth. You can feel his thumb press against your clit a little harder, his balls slapping against your ass when he speeds up a bit more before his hips slow into deep, rolling thrusts.

“Cum, baby,” Sylus whispers, “cum on my cock, cream my fuckin’ cock like a good girl, sweetie.”

“Sylus!” you grit out, thighs twitching as you cum violently on his cock, body shaking uncontrollably as your orgasm hits you harder than anything you’ve had before.

“Baby, fuck-” he growls, his fingers grabbing at your thighs to hold you in place as he shoves his cock into you as deep as possible.

You squeal, eyes squeezing shut tightly as he unravels with you, hot cum spilling into you. A soft whimper leaves you as Sylus humps his hips into a few more times, his motions stuttery and uneven as more cum floods your pussy, your walls clenching around him greedily.

A noise of protest sounds when he slumps over you, his heavy body landing on yours. Light sweat covers both of you and you pout, knowing you’ll have to shower again. Sylus doesn’t get up for a few moments, mouthing at your tits lazily and landing little kisses to your nipples. The sensations make a shiver rack through and he grunts when you push at his chest firmly, softening cock slipping out of you as he rolls onto his side and tugs you back into the warmth of his chest.

True to his word, he does cuddle you, although you’re sure he would’ve done it regardless of his previous words.

“Asshole,” you mumble hoarsely, trying to crawl on top of him, “now I can’t walk anymore.”

Sylus laughs, his hands smoothing over your hips and waist as you settle on his lap, breasts flush against his chest and your face in the crook of his neck. You hum contentedly when he drops a kiss to your hair, squirming happily when he pets over your thighs and ass.

“I suppose I’ll just have to carry you, hm?” Sylus says, rubbing your back.

The warmth of his body has your eyes drooping shut as you nod. Sylus makes you feel safe, despite everything, his gentle touches making your mind hazy. You feel yourself falling asleep, lulled by the man beneath you.

You wake up again, mumbling softly. The weight of Sylus’ arm is noticeable, slung around your waist. Your brows furrow when you look down, realizing that he must’ve cleaned you up while you were asleep, a fresh pair of panties pulled up your legs and one of his shirts covering your upper-half.

Wriggling, you turn onto your side to find him already awake and staring at you. A sleepy smile spreads across your face, and you inch closer to land a sweet kiss to his lips. Your heart stutters in your chest when he traps your chin between his fingers, deepening the kiss for a brief moment before letting you go with a soft peck.

“Does this mean I get your card whenever I want?” you ask teasingly.

Sylus shakes his head, “that was a one time offer.”

You shoot him a sulky look, prodding your finger into his chest. “Jerk.”

He grabs your finger, lifting it to his lips and kissing the pad of it. You flush, heart fluttering at the action. Sylus smiles and you snuggle back into his chest, not before kissing his cheek quickly.

“I’m glad we met,” you say quietly.

“As am I,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers spreading across your scalp pleasantly.

“You should’ve said something sooner,” you add on after a few moments, tracing random shapes against his pec.

“Thought you’d crack first,” he replies, tucking your hair behind your ear, “all that clinginess. I was sure.”

You pinch his bicep in retaliation, squealing when he smacks your ass in return. A giggle breaks out of you when he peppers your face with kisses, a dopey smile spreading across your face as Sylus nuzzles into you affectionately.

It’s something you’ll remember for the years to come.

#sylus smut #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace #love and deespace sylus #lnd sylus #lnd smut #sylus qin

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these-lovely-monsters · 2 months ago

Text

Tentacles Under The Bed - Part 2

[NSFW | 18+]

Characters: gn!tentacle monster x f!reader

Content: tentacles, bondage, nipple/clit stimulation, double penetration, anal play, edging, yandere monster

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

It’s late at night and you’re sitting in bed, reading a book before you go to sleep. Or at least, you’re trying to, but you keep peeking over the side of the bed, hoping your tentacle monster will come visit you again tonight. After a while, with no sign of your guest from last night, your eyes grow heavy and you drift off to sleep. The light is still on and your book is sitting open on your stomach as you lay sprawled across your mattress, dreaming about tentacles wrapping you up.

You’re snoring softly when, suddenly, you jolt awake to the feeling of something cool and silky caressing your cheek. Quickly sitting up in bed, you blink open your eyes to find an inky black tentacle stroking your face. With a wide smile, you reach out a hand and stroke your fingers along its length, marveling at how nice the texture feels. When the tentacle begins tickling your ear, you squirm out of reach, giggling and gently batting it away. Wiggling in place, almost as if it’s laughing, the tentacle retreats back under the bed.

A moment later, it reappears again with its tip wrapped around an object. This time, you reach out your hand, eager to see what it has for you. When it uncurls itself, a small stone drops into your hand. Grinning at the new gift, you hold it up to the light and marvel at the gorgeous gray surface that’s veined with bright streaks of white. After you’ve finished inspecting the stone, you place it on your nightstand along with the pearl and necklace pendant. Leaning in, you place a soft kiss on the tip of the tentacle and then laugh when it wiggles again.

Remembering what you found up earlier today, you hop off the bed and hurry over to your backpack, calling over your shoulder, “I have something for you too!”

After rummaging around for a minute, you find what you’re looking for and walk back over to your bed where the tentacle is still patiently waiting. Extending your hand, you watch as it carefully picks up the piece of dark green sea glass, its edges worn smooth. Another tentacle appears as it gently rolls the piece of glass between the two tips, caressing the surface, as if inspecting it.

You’re chewing your bottom lip, hoping it likes your gift, when suddenly the tentacles wiggle again as several more shoot up from under the bed and wrap you up in a giant hug. Laughing, you squeeze back, happy that it seems to like your gift.

As the tentacles slither along your skin, you’re reminded of the night before when it had you pinned to the bed. Your cheeks grow flushed with the memory and you wonder how you can make that happen. As if it can sense where your thoughts are headed, the tentacles begin to deliberately rub along your nipples, which are already hardening under your shirt. Letting out a soft moan, you relax into the monster’s hold, hoping it will get the hint.

It clearly understands what you want because a few tentacles grip your shirt and begin pulling it over your head as others work your shorts down your hips. Once you’re completely naked, the tentacles take a moment to slither along your bare skin, as if enjoying the feel of you just as much as you do.

Then, one of the tentacles wraps around both your wrists, tugging you forward so you’re on your knees. Another one wraps around your waist, pulling backwards as the first one continues to pull your arms down to the bed. Soon you’re fully bent over with your ass up in the air and your wrists bound and stretched out over your head on the mattress. Next, two more tentacles wrap around each of your thighs, pulling them apart so that your pussy is completely exposed.

A shiver runs through you, not from the cold, but from anticipation for what the monster will do to you. Fortunately, it doesn’t make you wait long. One tentacle reaches up to play with your clit, alternating between flicking the bud and pulling at it with one of its suction cups. You moan at the sensations, trying to wiggle your hips for more but you’re completely bound, unable to move anywhere.

Two tentacles reach up and suction themselves to each of your nipples, pulling down so there’s a delicious tug on your breasts. The weight of the tentacles and your heavy breathing causes them to sway beneath you and you mewl in pleasure. As the other tentacle continues to play with your clit, wetness drips from your soaking pussy. Another one slides up along your leg gathering up your juices and plunges inside you, causing you to gasp at the sudden intrusion.

As the tentacle pushes deeper inside you, stretching your walls as far as they’ll go, the small bite of pain adds a delicious zing of pleasure to the already overwhelming sensations. When it’s completely filled you up, it pauses, letting you adjust for a moment. Once it senses you beginning to relax, it slowly pulls back out, almost to the tip, and then plunges all the way in again. Pulling out and shoving back in, it sets a rapid pace, the wet squelching sounds mixing with the cries of pleasure pouring from your lips.

As the monster continues to fuck you senselessly, you begin to feel an orgasm building. But just as your walls start to clamp down on the tentacle, it abruptly pulls out, simultaneously pausing its ministrations on your clit, and you cry out in despair. After a moment, it resumes teasing and fucking you, only to pause once again when your orgasm is almost at its peak. It does this over and over again, bringing you right to the brink and then pulling back until you’re a whining, needy mess.

Tears of frustration begin to build in your eyes and you think you’ve almost had enough when, instead of pushing back into your pussy, the soaking wet tentacle moves higher, up to your ass. You suck in a breath as it tickles the outer rim, teasing and flicking the puckered skin. You’ve never had anything there and you’re a little afraid it will hurt, but at the same time you trust this monster with your body and want to see what it will do.

Pressing the tip gently in, the tentacle pushes past the first ring of muscles and you groan at the new sensation. Slowly, it works its way further and further in, pausing every few inches to let you adjust to the new girth. When it reaches as far as it seems to be able to go, it pulls back out and then pushes in again. This time, it fucks you more slowly than before and you melt into the mattress, getting lost in the sensation.

You’ve forgotten your earlier frustrations, too distracted by the tentacle filling your ass, until you feel a different tentacle begin to push its way into your pussy. Gasping, you try to wiggle away – there’s no way it can fit two at the same time, right? But of course, there’s nowhere for you to go and it continues to ease the second tentacle into your cunt while the first one keeps slowly fucking in and out of your ass.

Before long, both tentacles are completely filling you up, stuffing you to the brim, and you’re almost delirious with the overwhelming fullness. They begin to move in tandem, plunging in and out of both your holes as you whimper and cry out with each thrust. It’s almost too much, but at the same time you’ve never felt anything more amazing and you never want it to end.

This time, when your thighs begin to tremble and your walls start to clamp down with your impending orgasm, the monster doesn’t stop. Instead, it resumes playing with your clit and you immediately explode. Stars burst behind your eyes as your entire body seizes up, white hot pleasure coursing through you. It feels like the orgasm goes on forever as you get lost in a hazy bliss and time ceases to exist.

Eventually, though, awareness begins to return as you start to come down from the high and you sag into the mattress, boneless and spent. Carefully, the monster eases out of you and releases its hold on your body. You’re almost sad at the loss of contact. But then it gently maneuvers you so that your head is resting on the pillow and pulls the blanket over you, tucking you in around the edges. As the tentacles start to retreat back under the bed, you reach out and snag one of them, holding onto it.

“Will you stay until I fall asleep?” You ask in a drowsy voice.

You feel it hesitate for a moment but then the tentacle winds up your wrist, grasping onto you. Smiling, you settle back into the pillow and begin to drift off. Before you’re fully asleep, you manage to mumble, “Will you come back again tomorrow night?”

There’s a beat of silence, and then, right as your awareness slips away, you hear an inhumanly deep, multilayered voice echo in your mind, “Yes, little creature.”

──────────────────

The monster is immensely pleased with this female it has chosen to mate.

At first, it wasn’t sure if the gifts left on various surfaces of her den were meant for it. But it took them anyways, wanting to indulge in the fantasy. Most creatures run screaming when they see the monster for the first time. Some even attack without warning.

But not this one. To the monster’s delight, this delectable female was only startled at first. And when it tried to offer her gifts to soothe her fear, she eagerly accepted them!

She even accepted its attempts to couple and let it touch her.

Feel her.

Taste her.

She is utterly delicious.

And when she presented it with a mating gift of her own tonight, it knew for sure that she had accepted its offer.

As the monster settles into the darkness beneath where she sleeps, grasping her tiny delicate hand, it hopes that it can make her happy enough that she’ll never want to leave. Because even if she does, it will never let her go.

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

#monster fucker #monster lover #monster smut #terato #monster x human #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #these lovely monsters #tentacles #tlm tentacles #monster girlfriend #tlm stories #f!reader #gn!monster #eldritch

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indulgentdaydream · 9 months ago

Note

BEEN WAITING FOR THIS BESTIE

what about a tired and very touch-starved jason wakes up at like 2pm and fem!reader is out of bed??? and he comes and finds them and throws them over his shoulder and brings them back to bed???? because why would you leave jaybean by himself????? unnacceptable???

THIS IS SO ADORABLE WHAT

And the idea of people waiting for my requests to be open is so weird like… what do you mean you wanna read my writings and hear my thoughts??? Y’all make me smile so much I swear

Side note: I’m so sorry this is a month late. And then also another day late than I said I would post.

Side side note: if y’all saw me post this without the photo header…. No you didn’t

M.I.A

Jason Todd x gn!Reader || Domestic Fluff || Word Count: 758

Warnings: not completely proofread. Gun mention.

Jason’s pulled himself out of a bad dream. Not quite a nightmare, though something eerily close.

It was one of those rare nights that he had off of patrol. One he where the two of you got to eat dinner together, watch some TV, get ready for bed, then fall asleep in your shared bed. He enjoyed the chances when he got them.

He laid on his stomach under the comfortably heavy duvet. His left arm was bent beneath his pillow, his hand grazing the hidden .44 he had convinced you to let him keep there, the other arm laying in front of him. He kept his eyes closed, clinging to his last tendrils of sleep.

All he needed was you back in his arms and his dreams would turn good again, filled with the smell of your soap and hints of faded perfume.

Slowly, he stretches his right arm out across the sheets, sleepily searching for your form. It drags along the sheets, his entire body only half-asleep.

He’s aware that there’s this… itch in his skin. Not a physical itch. An itch that can only be satisfied by having your arms around him again.

Jason Todd doesn’t count sheep. He counts your heart beats or your breathing. Sometimes both.

He must be laying further to the edge of his side of the bed than he thought. Usually, he doesn’t have to reach this far to get to you when you two drift apart in your sleep.

His hand grazes the wall. His eyes shoot open.

You aren’t in bed.

He pushes himself up with his elbows. A tired, confused, and slightly panicked frown settled on his face, his hair mussed up and flat on one side of his head.

The bedroom window is closed. The door is cracked open.

Then he notices the sound of the tap running in the kitchen.

Jason gets up and out of bed, moving languidly. He pads his way out of the bedroom and into the hallway.

His eyes squint at the light you had turned on as he stands in the doorway. All foggy panic he felt before faded away at the sight of you, filling a glass with water, standing in one of his shirts.

He shuffles his feet. A purposeful noise that he wouldn’t otherwise make as he went about his day, one to get your attention.

You turn around, your glass of water in your hand. You take notice of your boyfriend’s large stature filling the entryway, a sleepy pout on his lips. You give him a smile. He can tell you're trying not to laugh at his fatigued state.

“Want a glass, too?”

Jason shakes his head. He makes his way across the kitchen, his brows still furrowed against the light.

He just wants you back in bed with him.

He reaches for your glass after you sip from it. You hand it to him. Jason takes the cold glass in his right hand, bends down a little, and wraps his left arm tight around the bottom of your bum. He stands back up, now with you draped over his shoulder.

You squeal out a fit of laughter, "Jay!"

He flicks off the light as he exits the kitchen, makes his way back into the hall, then kicks the door to your bedroom shut as he carries you in.

Gently, he sets you back down on the edge of the bed. Once you're properly seated, he hands your water back for you to finish. Seeing your bright smile makes his own lips tug into a small one.

Jason rakes his hands through his hair as you drink. He rubs his hands over his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes from a moment, trying to shake a bit of the sleep still clinging to him.

You hand him back the nearly finished glass of water. He watches you shuffled back under the covers, moving over to the wall-side. Your side. He finishes off the last two gulps of your water and sets the glass on the night stand.

He follows you under the covers, immediately pulling you close. He presses a kiss to your cheek and drops his head into the crook of your neck, an arm draped around your waist, the other tucked under his pillow. He kisses your shoulder and gently squeezes your waist once.

Your arms settle around him, "If you wanted cuddles you could’ve just asked, you know."

Jason only grumbles an incoherent response. He shuffles and presses closer to you, holding you tight.

You kiss his forehead and Jason starts to count.

Ahh!! I hope you like! This is lowkey rushed.

Also you can catch my personal headcanon of how Jason WILL keep his bed, with or without you in it, as far away from the window and door as possible. And you best believe that when you two share, you're getting the wall side so he can act as a barrier for any possible danger that may come in.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd fic #dc #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood #jason todd x you #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x reader #red hood x you #cw gun mention #dc x reader #dc fic #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd x male!reader #jason todd x gn!reader #missy writes

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ann1eee · 3 months ago

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Pampering Gojo Satoru because you know he’s had a bad day, even if he denies it.

Satoru returned to your shared apartment after quite a long day of work at Jujutsu Tech, placed a chaste kiss on your lips and went to sleep without his dinner, or a bath. You knew he had a bad day, and wanted to do whatever you could to make him feel better. Once you were sure he was asleep, you crept into the empty spot next to him, and spent a good hour stroking his head and kissing gently all over his face, making sure not to wake him up.

You woke up extra early in the morning, to drive to Satoru’s favourite bakery, and bring him a sugary sweet breakfast to replenish last nights lost energy. Just as you returned home from the bakery, you heard the bathroom door swing open and out came Satoru.

“Good morning baby” you cooed softly. He gave you a small smile and yawned as he made his way to the dining table.

You plated up his breakfast, adding extra whipped cream on his fluffy pancakes, just as he liked, in the shape of a heart. You served him his breakfast and he was shocked that you had made such an effort to drive all the way across town just for breakfast. He thanked you with a kiss on your lips, which escalated to a full on makeout session. You giggled as you pulled away and asked him to eat his pancakes before they get soggy.

After finishing breakfast, you asked him if everything was alright, and if something had happened the night prior for him to be so out of energy and upset. Hearing this, Satoru immediately tried to bring his walls back up by cracking a few odd jokes about the higher ups, hoping you’d think he was back to normal and not confront him further.

You realised Satoru had no interest in talking about his feelings, and rushing him to talk about it would do more harm than good. You smiled at him and kissed his forehead, because you knew how sweet he thinks it is.

“How about we have a day to ourselves today? We could relax and check out one of the new restaurants in the city?” you questioned, silently begging he’d give in and agree.

As if hearing your thoughts, Satoru agreed to the day off, but informed you that he might have to leave in case of an emergency. You beamed and nodded, pulling him into a tight hug as you thought about what you’d like to do with him.

After you both had showered, you decided to go to a lovely outdoor restaurant for lunch. You fed him a few bites, giggling as he got all shy when you wiped his mouth.

When you got back home, you decided to watch a movie in your dark bedroom, hoping Satoru would fall asleep and rest. He hadn’t been getting enough sleep recently, or ever, and you wanted him to relax on his day off. You put on a cute little romcom, and pulled Satoru onto your chest. You rubbed his back as you felt him drift off to sleep.

When Satoru awoke, he was greeted by the smell of something hot and sizzling. He gingerly exited the bedroom, and went into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around your waist as he rested his forehead on your shoulder.

“Thank you for today, I really needed it” he admits, taking a shaky breath. You turn around with concern in your eyes, and pull him in for a long hug. He melts into the hug, and holds you as if you were some sort of precious treasure he couldn’t let go of. You cup his cheeks and kiss him on his lips, then his cheeks, then his nose, eyes and forehead until he erupts into laughter.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He says in between giggles.

You smile contently, finally being able to hear his genuine laugh, not something forced or fake.

“I love you Satoru. I’m always here, whether you want to talk about it or not.”

He smiles back at you and lifts you up in the air, twirling you around like a princess as you squeal and giggle.

You always knew when Satoru was having a bad day, and you always knew how to make him feel better.

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daytaker · 10 months ago

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The Gang React to You Falling Asleep on Them

Lucifer

*deep sigh that speaks volumes to how difficult it is for this man to get any sleep, and here you are, conked out on his shoulder...*

If you don't wake up within a few minutes, he'll have no choice but to move. He is not the sort to be so sentimental that he can't bear the thought of disturbing your precious sleeping face. Of course, he won't be an asshole about it; he'll be careful and try not to wake you up. He might even drape his jacket over you for your nap.

But only if he doesn't need it.

Mammon

"Hey, my arm's gettin' a little stiff, can I just-- ...ah."

Oh. Ah. Alright. Cool. This is happening. Hmm. Damn. Not super comfortable, and it's kinda inconvenient to be trapped here, but, pshh, what's he supposed to do, wake up a sleeping human? He's heard that can lead to...cardiac arrest, or something. He ain't gonna murder you just to move a little sooner.

You did not just start snuggling him in your sleep. Did Mammon score today or did he score today? Too bad his arm's starting to fall asleep, but, well, nothin' in life is free.

Leviathan

"What...? WHAAAAAAT?" (But only in his brain. He doesn't want to wake you up. Mammon says that can lead to cardiac arrest in humans.)

He's pretty sure he's the one who's going to keel over from heart problems at this rate. He hadn't even realized you were getting sleepy. Are you bored watching him tackle this single-player old school RPG? Did you hate it all this time and you never even mentioned it?! Why is your face so close?! Do you not have any idea the kind of mental torture you're putting him through right now?!

Deep breaths, Levi. Deep breaths. This happens in anime all the time. It's...usually a good thing! It means that the main character and their love interest are tripping all the right flags, and... and how long is this scene going to last? Those scenes almost always end with the two still on the couch, then they skip to the next day or something. How long is he going to have to just sit here... suffering...?

After about ten minutes, he's reached his limit and he gently shakes you awake. He is so embarrassed that he insists you go to bed now, and he will not take no for an answer. Good night. Goodbye. *door slams*

AAAAHHHHHHHHH.

Satan

"Hm? Have you been getting enough sleep...?"

Satan would be very pleased with the situation, though probably less intensely excited than Mammon. He'll make whatever small adjustment is necessary for his comfort, then settle in and read for as long as it takes you to wake up. He feels very warm and fuzzy. It's nice. Hopefully you do this more often. But he should really ask you about your sleep schedule. Levi must be forcing you to stay awake too often.

Asmodeus

"Aww, aren't you adorable?"

This is precious. He needs to document it. As soon as he realizes what's happening, he'll carefully pull out his D.D.D., making sure not to wake you up, and start snapping pics. A few of you, a few dozen selfies with you, a few with him pretending to be asleep too, and then a perfect shot of him kissing your forehead. Grammable as fuck.

Er... is that drool he can see in one of those photos? ...You're going to have to wake up. You can't just drool on his brand-name jacket.

Beelzebub

"Oh."

He's used to people falling asleep on him, so this doesn't really throw him for much of a loop. However, he's a bit more careful of waking you up. He knows that if he wakes Belphie, he'll just fall back asleep within a few seconds, but you're not quite so adaptable. So he'll do his best to stay quiet and not move much.

But no matter how hard he tries, he's never going to be able to turn off his stomach. You'll probably wake up with a start as his stomach roars at you about twenty inches from your face.

Belphegor

"...zzzz..."

Who are we kidding, we all know he was asleep first. Probably, he's the reason you fell asleep so easily. He's soft and warm, perfect for drifting off to dreamland...

Diavolo

"Very bold! You really are astonishingly brave."

It's not every day someone has the stones to fall asleep in his presence, let alone fall asleep and use him as some sort of glorified pillow. What a nice change of pace.

He'll continue doing whatever it is he was doing before, but he is a busy demon, running the Devildom and all. He'll slowly and carefully extricate himself when it's time to move, then have Barbatos bring you a blanket and prepare some tea for when you wake up.

Barbatos

"Humans are awfully needy creatures, aren't they."

He can't help but chuckle. You just pass out during the middle of the day? Then again, it's possible you're probably not entirely well. He'll have to disturb the young master to ask what sort of accommodations to make for you. Of course, he's sure Diavolo won't mind. But it's irresponsible to let yourself drift off like this in the castle of the king of the demons, isn't it? This isn't a resort.

Sleep well, human.

Solomon

"You're just looking cute on purpose now, aren't you?"

Oh well! Looks like he's stuck here for now. Too bad. He'll smile, put an arm around you, kick his feet up, and settle in for the long haul. Hopefully you're able to get a good, solid nap in.

Most likely, you both will. He'll pass out too within ten minutes, give or take.

Simeon

"Oh- shh. There, there."

Well, if you aren't adorable... You must be so tired. He's glad you feel so at ease with him that you let yourself fall asleep, and you certainly look cute, but he's also a little concerned that you're this tired. He'll patiently wait for you to wake up. Then he'll make you some tea and gently remind you to take better care of your health.

Luke

"Eh...?! Hey! ...WAKE UP!"

How tired are you?! You need to get better sleep! Sheesh, you need to be more careful too. You almost crushed him.

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posh--bee · 3 months ago

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hotel room revelations || Spencer Reid

pairing → Spencer Reid x Reader

summary → While on a case, you have to not only share a hotel room but also a bed with the BAU's resident genius Spencer Reid whom you have had a crush on since he first joined the FBI. When you wake up during the night with his arms wrapped around you, previously hidden feelings come to light and you realize that your unrequited feelings for him might not be so unrequited after all.

warnings → sharing a bed, love confessions, early seasons!Spencer, insecure!Spencer, misunderstandings, friends to lovers, reader is part of the BAU, no descriptions or pronouns used for the reader, no y/n used

author’s note → I love the "there was only one bed" trope so of course I had to write it with my beloved genius. I'm so happy to finally finish another fic again so let me know what you think about it! <3 (forgot to post this fic and now my cm obsession fizzled out, oops. But I know it will come back to haunt me sooner or later)

word count → 5.2k

When you wake up in the middle of the night, you’re not too happy about it and not sure who or what to blame for it.

You grumble your dissatisfaction without opening your eyes and the warm body behind you freezes.

Now you’re a little confused and you try to fight off the urge to just drift off again so you can actually form a coherent thought because you don’t remember going to sleep with someone else by your side last night. But thinking is still a little difficult when you’re half-asleep and it takes you an embarrassingly long time to even remember if you’re in your own bedroom right now or in another state in some sort of hotel room because of work, so your memory is not the most reliable source of help at the moment.

The someone behind you still holding you in their arms seems to get a little impatient and tries to slowly move away from you again but you don’t let them, instinctively grabbing their hand that is resting softly against your stomach and interlacing your fingers with theirs to keep it there. You hear a startled little sound close to your ear and feel the someone behind you going rigid, even holding their breath in surprise. Feeling bad about spooking your bedmate so suddenly, you apologize by soothingly stroking up and down their arm that is draped over your waist before going back to holding their hand. You don’t want them to let go of you even though you’re still not quite sure who exactly they actually are—but you’re still working on that.

What you do know, however, is that they’re warm and holding you in a gentle embrace and that you feel very safe and secure in their arms. And that you don’t want it to end.

You smile to yourself in satisfaction when you feel the someone gradually relaxing against you once more and you can finally pick up that derailed train of thought of yours to figure out where you are and why you’re not alone in bed.

But that’s when the someone behind you decides to speak up and solve the mystery at last.

“I… I’m really sorry, but I have to move. My arm’s completely fallen asleep…”

Oh. That’s right.

His voice is quiet, timid even and still laced with sleep, and suddenly you’re feeling a lot more awake than just moments before, your heart immediately picking up speed as you remember how you and Spencer ended up in the same bed together.

You’re currently in a little hotel room in a city halfway across the country because of a case JJ had presented you the day before. Five bodies with a sixth person still missing and the local police had decided to ask for the BAU’s help to stop whoever is responsible for these crimes. Spencer and you started to work on the geographical profile while the rest of the team drove to the scenes of crime and talked to the victims’ families. After working until the middle of the night but without making any considerable progress anymore, Hotch decided it was time to go to the hotel, rest, and return to the case after a good night’s sleep.

The hotel was pretty booked already when you boarded the jet so when you arrived at last in the lobby, exhaustion already weighing heavy on your shoulders and your eyelids dangerously heavy, the team was told they had to share rooms and even ended up with a room with a double bed instead of two single ones.

When JJ first announced this little circumstance at first, you really couldn’t care less. Somehow, your tired brain didn’t really consider that you would be one of the people staying in the room with a double bed and much less who would be the other person with you. But when Morgan sauntered over to you, letting the key ring spin around his finger, a wicked gleam in his eyes, you knew nothing good would come of it.

With a smirk he pressed the keys into your hand and announced that you and Spencer would be the lucky pair to share the room with the double bed, giving you a wink that made you want to kill him just a little bit. Morgan knows very well about your little, not all that serious crush on your coworker and makes a point to tease you about it whenever he can, which, unfortunately for you, is very often. Your only consolation is that Spencer is too oblivious to pick up on it even though Derek makes sure everyone and their mother knows how you feel about the young doctor. He obviously claims it’s only because he’s playing cupid and can’t stand the two of you dancing around each other for eternity, but you know for a fact that he’s obviously doing it for his own entertainment as well. Besides, playing cupid only gets you so far when only one person has feelings for the other one—which you’re painfully aware is the case for you and Spencer.

With an especially dirty eyeroll you grabbed the keys and turned to look at Spencer who gave you one of his signature tight-lipped awkward smiles. He didn’t look very happy at the prospect of having to share not only a room but also a bed with you and you tried your hardest not to take it personally. You know Spencer values his personal space so having to spend this and the following nights with another person next to him is nothing to look forward to for him—even if it’s with a good friend.

You masked your disappointment and bruised feelings with a small smile of your own and led the way toward the elevators at the end of the hotel lobby, pointedly ignoring Morgan’s teasing voice telling you to have a good night. You silently swore to yourself that you would get back at him for all of this when the case was solved and over, but right now you were more worried about surviving the next few nights of having Spencer so close to you yet completely out of your reach.

Dealing with your unrequited feelings for the young doctor on a daily basis wasn’t always easy for you but you contended yourself with being his coworker and friend even though it hurt more than you cared to admit. In the beginning, you hoped that your feelings would go away if you just ignored them—after all, it was just a stupid little crush on your adorable and dorky new coworker. But as time went on, and you were still plagued by an eruption of butterflies in your stomach whenever Spencer smiled at you, or accidentally brushed your hand with his when handing you a pen or a cup of coffee, or just stood near you for an extended period of time, you had to admit to yourself that your feelings for him were far more serious than you anticipated at first. The thought of just confessing to Spencer had crossed your mind a lot at this point, to get it off your chest, but the possibility of him rejecting you and losing one of your best friends in the process scared you too much to actually go through with it.

And before you knew it Spencer went on a date with JJ and made out with a gorgeous blonde actress in her pool and flirted with pretty barkeepers, and that was proof enough for you that keeping your feelings to yourself was the right course of action which didn’t mean it saved you from heartbreak or feeling sorry for yourself.

You started to distract yourself with alcohol and attractive strangers between cases, collecting fleeting memories with partners who never really helped you forget the one person who was always on your mind and in your heart. You went on like this until you could hardly look at yourself in the mirror anymore, feeling disgusted and ashamed of yourself, knowing that it would only get worse but still not stopping, telling yourself it was the price you had to pay for not having to spend the nights all by yourself. It was until you drunkenly stumbled into the apartment of yet another stranger, hurriedly opening buttons and zippers, carelessly tossing clothes to the floor, giggling when the stranger’s lips connected to yours despite feeling sick to your stomach. You saw it only when the stranger moved to press open-mouthed kisses to your neck; a photo of the stranger’s family, beautiful children and an adoring partner smiling brightly for the camera, and you wondered if you would ignore this too now that you have seen it, like you ignored the noticeable mark on the stranger’s finger where a wedding ring was clearly missing.

You felt faint when you pushed against the stranger’s shoulders, almost falling over your own two feet leaving the apartment only to find yourself in a part of town you were completely unfamiliar with in the middle of the night. Not knowing what else to do, you called Morgan who picked you up sitting on the curb, looking and feeling pathetic with tearstains on your face. He simply raised his eyebrows at you and wordlessly helped you into his car before driving back to his place. There, he gently wrapped you up in a blanket and cuddled with you on his old sofa for the entire length of three feel-good chick flicks all while alternating between handing you spoons of ice cream and tissues to dry your tears, listening to you in the early hours of the morning spilling your guts to him.

Thankfully, he never talked to you about that night again and you were grateful for it; otherwise, you would probably die on the spot from all the shame and embarrassment it would trigger in you. You had still apologized for inconveniencing him like this, staring at his shoes while stumbling over your words, fingernails biting into the palm of your hands. But Derek acted like he didn’t know what you were talking about, flashing you one of his defeating handsome smiles and you knew that all was good between you two, he was still your friend and didn’t think any less of you, so you pulled him down to press a grateful kiss to his cheek.

It didn’t however save you from Derek wiggling his eyebrows at you whenever Spencer and you sat pressed shoulder to shoulder absorbed in case files or when the two of you would share headphones on the jet while returning home. You are used to it by now, simply sticking your tongue out at him or giving him the finger when Hotch and JJ aren’t looking, earning a good-natured laugh from Derek and a confused glance from Spencer, who, to your relief, never quite understands what the constant teasing between you and the older agent is about.

So yes, after seeking pointless comfort with strangers until the point you almost didn’t recognize yourself anymore, you now are at a point where you would say that generally, you are just fine with knowing that Spencer would never see you as anything other than a good friend and coworker.

But after an exhausting day working on a grueling case, having made close to zero progress on it, and having to share a hotel room and a bed with Spencer only to wake up to him holding you in his arms, you really wish the universe would give you a break one of these days so you could take the time to get over your feelings for your genius friend once and for all.

You sigh quietly, willing your racing heart and those malicious butterflies in your stomach to calm down before letting go of Spencer’s hand, trying your best to ignore the pang of disappointment. The feeling only worsens when Spencer moves away from you, carefully putting some distance between yourself and him, taking all his warmth with him and you can’t help but to curl into yourself at that.

You feel him settle on the other side of the bed, already missing his touch even as fleeting as it was, feeling wide awake and wondering how you will ever fall asleep again tonight after that—and the nights still to come.

“I’m so sorry for ambushing you like that,” Spencer’s quiet voice cuts through the silence of the room, his bashfulness palpable with every word. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t, Spence. Don’t worry.” Quite the opposite, but you keep that thought to yourself, opting for lightening the mood instead. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I mean, I had to share a bed with Emily before and I woke up to her having me in a chokehold so I prefer having you as my bedmate by a mile.”

You’re blessed with a little laugh from Spencer, your body relaxing against the unfamiliar mattress but still missing his closeness from before. You feel him shift on his side of the bed and can’t help but wonder if he too was more comfortable with holding you in his arms. But you quickly dismiss this silly thought of yours, knowing that indulging in false hopes and wishful thinking doesn’t save you from the reality that Spencer just doesn’t feel the same way as you.

“But I’m serious. You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you reiterate after a moment of silence between the two of you, slowly turning around for a more comfortable position which isn’t in the slightest related to the fact that like this you are facing Spencer now. You can’t really make out his features in the darkness of the hotel room but maybe it’s for the best. Otherwise, you probably would give into the temptation of reaching out and brushing a few unruly curls of his behind his ear, your fingers softly lingering on his face just a tad too long.

“That’s—I’m glad…” His voice is quiet, almost distant, and you wonder if he’s already drifting off to sleep again. You couldn’t blame him for that. The day the two of you had was long and wearying, coming into work just to be presented with gruesome pictures from various crime scenes, discussing the UnSub’s profile and MO while being on the jet before being introduced to police officers and grieving family members alike, getting to work without a single break on your mind. If it wasn’t for these inconvenient feelings of yours that caused your heart rate to resemble that of someone who just ran a mile, you would probably feel as exhausted as Spencer is. But in your case, sleep is currently not really something you can think about when all you want is to curl up in his arms like before, feeling warm and safe and happy until the harsh reality of the next morning catches up with you again.

“Still, I’m sorry,” Spencer then whispers into the darkness, your name leaving his lips in a soft sigh, and you frown. There’s really nothing he has to apologize for and you want to tell him as much, but he’s faster than you, his words coming out in a self-conscious rush.

“I’m sorry that you are stuck here with me. I know you’d prefer being with Morgan instead and I’m sorry that he’s being such an idiot about all of this.”

Now you really don’t know what he’s talking about. What does Derek have to do with anything? But Spencer doesn’t let you voice your thoughts, only to confuse you even more.

“I-I know you like Morgan so you were probably hoping that he would just assign this room to himself and you, and I really don’t get why he’s so set on acting like he doesn’t have feelings for you as well. I get he’s not really someone who does relationships but he’s lucky that someone special like you is in love with him so—”

“Spencer, stop—” you suddenly interrupt this agitated rambling of his, trying to wrap your head around the fact that he’s somehow convinced you have feelings for your fellow agent. “Wha-What are you talking about? I’m not in love with Derek Morgan. We’re friends, but that’s really all there is to it. What on earth makes you think that I like him like that?”

You push yourself up on your elbow in your bewilderment, the sheet that covers you and Spencer falling from your shoulders in the process. You quickly turn around, turning on the light by your bedside, not believing what nonsense you just heard. Dumbfounded, you look at the genius lying beside you, his expression confused and apologetic in return.

“I’m—sorry?” he starts while sitting up slightly so the two of you are at eye level, his voice hesitant and uncertain. “I just thought… The two of you are always together, even outside of work, on the weekends. And you have all these little private jokes with Morgan and conversations that always stop whenever someone else gets closer. And he always makes you laugh and flustered, so I just figured—you know, that you like him more than just a friend or a coworker.”

He takes a deep breath and looks away, his fingers fiddling with the hem of the stiff hotel sheet while you can only stare at him open-mouthed.

“And I figured that he’s an idiot for not realizing that he’s the luckiest man on earth to have your heart.”

The silence in the dim hotel room stretches on while Spencer pointedly avoids meeting your eyes and you continue to stare at him, your mind still trying to process that he is convinced about your feelings for Morgan when your heart only belonged to Spencer for a long time now, when you wish for nothing but to wake up in his arms like you just did every day for the rest of your life.

You reach for him and grab his face, holding him in place when he’s startled by your sudden action and the intense eye contact, his eyes widening in confusion and shock but you don’t care. You can’t. There’s a sudden need in you for him to understand how wrong he is about your alleged feelings for Morgan, to make him see the truth that was always right in front of him.

So you resolutely look into his eyes, ignoring the subtle trembling of your fingers against his soft skin and the ringing of your own heartbeat in your ears. You’ve experienced explosions going off right next to you, you’ve cornered armed serial killers and ran into possibly lethal situations without a second thought, but somehow you’ve never been as fucking sacred as you are right now. You could ruin everything you have with Spencer with what you are about to say, but you can’t keep it in any longer. You need him to know how you feel about him, how you’ve felt about him for so long now.

“Spencer Reid, you listen to me. I am not in love with Derek Morgan, I never was and I never will be. I can’t believe you’d think that when I’ve been pining for you for literal years now! It’s always been you, I need you to know that. From the moment I saw you standing next to Gideon with that stupidly adorable sweater and that awkward smile of yours, I knew I was done for. So I never want to hear you say that I have feelings for Morgan when I’m in love with you!”

Your voice is shaking throughout your little speech, but you make it to the end, intently staring into Spencer’s eyes who looks back at you with such a stupidly shocked expression that you would’ve laughed at him if not for your heart beating so wildly against your ribcage that it physically hurt.

The silence that follows your confession is oppressive and all-consuming, and you let go of Spencer’s face so he doesn’t fall victim to your nervous urge to sink your fingernails into something. Instead, they bite into the skin of your forearms as you hug your midsection, watching the young genius open and close his mouth multiple times without making a sound, his eyes blinking rapidly.

Dejectedly, you nod to yourself, already putting together a list of romantic comedies in your mind Morgan will have to endure together with you while you pathetically sob into his shoulder, tissues and ice cream keeping you company on your little coffee table in front of the TV.

You didn’t really expect it to end any differently, but it still hurt more than you anticipated. Your eyes begin to sting and you close them, stubbornly fighting the urge to cry. You have enough time for that later, preferably when you’re not sharing a room with Spencer anymore and the case is over, so you take a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself before opening your eyes again.

Spencer is still looking at you with wide eyes, a noticeable blush adorning his cheeks. Any other time you would find this discovery incredibly endearing, but right now, with your heart in pieces and dangerously close to crying, it only reminds you that you can’t take your words back, that now he knows how you feel about him and that your relationship with him will never be the same again, even if the two of you stay friends.

You manage a meek smile that Spencer doesn’t return, and you wonder if his silent reaction to what you revealed to him could be a blessing in disguise after all. You want him to say something, anything, to you but at the same time you don’t know how well you and your bruised heart would handle hearing him say that he doesn’t feel the same way about you out loud.

What you do know is that you can’t stay here any longer, you need to get out of this room, out of this situation, now.

With one last look at Spencer, you avert your eyes, your voice quiet, tinged with regret.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper before sitting on the edge of the bed, your back now to him, only tilting your head back to speak in his direction. “I’ll ask the others if I can stay in one of their rooms for the night.”

You move to stand up and that’s what snaps Spencer out of his daze at last, hurriedly reaching for you before you can get up, much less process what is happening, one of his large hands on your arm while the other is cupping your jaw tenderly, almost hesitantly. The kiss he pulls you into then is the opposite of that. It’s urgent and desperate and completely steals your breath away, your heart leaping into your throat and your stomach lurching in confused delight. Still, it takes you a moment to kiss him back, entirely too overwhelmed to react, but when you do it’s just as urgent, just as desperate. Your teeth clank together slightly but you ignore it in favor of meeting Spencer’s tongue with your own, your head beginning to spin. You’re not sure if it’s from the kiss or the lack of oxygen but you really can’t care less about that at the moment, especially not when you swallow the appreciative groan that falls from Spencer’s lips as one of your hands finds its way into his curls and pulls not all too gently on them.

The kiss only breaks when you’re certain the two of you are running out of air completely but still Spencer whines quietly at the sudden loss of contact, following your lips until the hand in his hair tugs him back. You placate him with a quick peck to his nose before concentrating on calming your heavy breathing and frantically beating heart, your forehead softly resting against his.

You don’t protest when Spencer starts to pull you closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you and guide you to settle in his lap, your head now resting on his shoulder, humming in contentment at the kiss he presses to the top of your head. You don’t say anything for a while, having no need for words, not when you feel Spencer’s heart mirror the rhythm of yours as you place your hand on his chest.

You look up at him when he covers your hand with his own and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand that makes your skin tingle pleasantly. His eyes swim with emotions but he doesn’t look away as you try to decipher all of them even though his blush reaches from the tip of his ears to somewhere underneath the soft shirt he wears. Your fingers itch to pull the collar of the shirt down a little, just to see how far that blush really goes when he quietly clears his throat, the bright smile on his pretty lips faltering slightly.

“I’m sorry for—for not saying anything just now. I couldn’t—I wasn’t sure you really meant what you said, I just couldn’t believe it wasn’t some sort of joke.”

You shift in his embrace, ready to repeat what you have said, to express what you feel for him until he is sick of hearing your voice, but before you can even open your mouth, he quickly steals a kiss from you, and then another one, effectively shutting you up and looking quite proud of himself too when he meets your eyes again. So you have no choice but to let him finish what he has to say like you always do, always giving him time to collect his thoughts and listening to him when he is ready to share them with you.

“But I know you would never lie to me, especially not about something like this and only then did I realize we could’ve been doing this years ago if I hadn’t been such an idiot and too blind to see what was in front of me all along because—because I’ve been in love with you for a long time now too.”

The smile that spreads on your face is so big it hurts your cheeks, radiant enough to challenge the whole sun and you have to twist your fingers into the front of Spencer’s shirt to pull him down to you so you can feel his lips on yours again. They’re soft and warm and real and when you part again the laugh that bubbles past his is like music to your ears, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You lean further into him and his arms around you tighten in response, enjoying the comfortable silence in this unfamiliar hotel room for a little while longer before gently speaking up again.

“You’re not an idiot Spencer. How could you have known when I’ve always been too scared to say anything? But now I did and we’ve finally found each other, and from now on we can make up for lost time. What do you say, my pretty boy?”

The adoration shining clearly in his brown eyes tells you everything you need to know and you move in to kiss him once more, preferably without ever stopping again, but suddenly Spencer tenses against you, making you look up at him with a quizzical look.

You can’t stop the little groan that escapes you at his next words.

“You and Morgan—did you really never—?”

As your genius worries his bottom lip between his teeth you really wish Morgan would finally stop being a part of your conversation.

“I—I believe what you’ve said, that you don’t have feelings for him,” Spencer continues, “but I’d understand if at some point, you know—because the way you are around each other—"

“Spencer. Let’s not do this again,” you have to interrupt a second time this night, but not unkindly. “Yes, even though I have feelings for you I have slept with other people, but it never meant anything to me—in fact, it just made me feel so, so horrible. And when it comes to Morgan—he and I are friends and that is all there is to it. It’s true I spend a lot of time with him, that we have a lot of little inside jokes and private conversations just for our ears, but do you want to know what the one common factor is with all of these things? It’s you, Spence.”

You emphasize your words with a kiss to his jaw, easing the tentative look he gives you by gently running your fingers through his soft hair.

“Most of the time I spent with Derek was just me whining about how much I wish you were mine and how unfair it is how adorable you look whatever you do and how smart and kind and pretty you are, and that you probably tried to kill me when you wore your glasses to work every day for some time. It’s honestly a miracle Morgan didn’t also develop a crush on you by sheer proximity to me, like through osmosis. He had to listen to me for years pining about you so he gets back at me for it by teasing me relentlessly about you, so I’ll have you know that all of our funny little private jokes are actually at my expense. My point is, even if Morgan would’ve wanted to start something with me—which he never did by the way—, he, and those other people too, never stood a chance because I only ever had eyes for you, Spence.”

“Oh.”

Spencer shakes his head in disbelief but he’s grinning like a fool with his cheeks and ears painted cherry red. He’s quick to hide his face in your hair, too overwhelmed by the sincerity in your voice and you think that now your genius finally, finally understands. But still, you would continue to reassure him about your feelings if his insecurities should get the better of him again, understanding that he doesn’t doubt you but that the voice in his head sometimes isn’t the kindest to him and that everything about this is very new to him.

You close your eyes, your head resting comfortably against his shoulder until you’re on the brink of falling asleep, the comfortable and content silence of the hotel room and the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest steadily lulling you to sleep. After the long day you’ve had and the excitement of this night, exhaustion has now caught up with you and if the big yawn that escapes Spencer is any indication, he is feeling its effect as well.

You’re vaguely aware of Spencer reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp before moving the both of you to lay down together, shifting and coordinating limbs until you’re both comfortable with him holding you in his arms, his hand resting softly on your stomach and your fingers interlacing with his.

You smile to yourself, knowing that from now on you’ll have the privilege of falling asleep like this every night—in the arms of your beloved genius.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

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hausofwoo · 4 months ago

Text

swallow | park seonghwa

pairing: park seonghwa x afab!reader

word count: 5.6K

this is part 2 of open wide! if you have not yet read part 1, i highly suggest reading it first.

summary: ever since that night, seonghwa has been avoiding you. but when new guy yunho starts at the restaurant, tensions rise until it reaches a breaking point.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, restaurant!au, bartender!seonghwa, server!reader, enemies to lovers trope, smoking (cigarette), alcohol consumption, sex under the influence of alcohol (but both consenting), fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up y'all), dick slapping, biting, cumplay, oral (f receiving), face sitting, creampie, degrading, use of petnames (princess, baby), the passion is T H E R E, woosan allegations once again, feat. new guy!yunho, server/work bestie!ryujin, servers!wooyoung and san, restaurant manager!hongjoong.

author's note: i already intended on making a part 2 of open wide, and everyone's feedback was so sweet and helpful on part 1! thank u again to @hausofmingi and T for being my beta-readers as always :-) plz enjoy ♡ ✧*

your eyes flutter open to the birds chirping outside. it’s way too fucking early to be awake right now. you feel yourself in a half-dream half-awake state, mind fuzzy and floaty. you turn your head to the side to see the man you spent the night with; the man who made you feel so good.

you rub your eyes a bit, attempting to wipe away the sleepiness. your vision adjusts, and you take a deeper look at him. seonghwa.

he really is beautiful. perfectly plump lips, long eyelashes, and there’s something about the way his nose is just a liiiiittle bit bumped at the bridge. even in his flaws you find beauty. you can’t resist gazing at him while he sleeps, his hair all messy in his face. why is it that he is so beautiful, yet the way he treats you is so far from that?

he shifts a bit, letting out a gentle sigh. your eyes begin to droop again, and you feel yourself drift off to the sound of his soft breathing.

when you wake, your bed feels cold. he left. you sit up slowly, stretching your arms up to ring out the exhaustion from your body. you look back at the empty spot next you.

it’s interesting that he left without a word, but you don’t know what to make out of it. before last night, you clearly couldn’t stand each other. you thought he was conceited and condescending. he was rude. and even during last night, his ego pooled over. but was the mere thought of missing him childish? you can’t help but to feel like there was something more to it. there was something on a deeper level that made you curious, therefore you wanted it back even more so. you started to feel like those girls from the movies; the ones where the girl becomes clingy after a one night stand. a cliché.

so what if he didn’t stay? it’s not like he actually felt anything for you. it was just a quick fuck. you probably were just another girl that he decided to throw a bone to. that’s what cocky men like him enjoy; just someone to string along and play with until he’s bored with them. you figured that time came sooner than you expected. well fuck him.

he hasn’t made eye contact with you once since you came in to work. you have the section right in front of the bar (thanks for nothing, hongjoong) so you have to just bear through it every time you pass him by. you prep your tables for service, wiping them down mindlessly.

you suppose there isn’t really a right way to go about this. sleeping with a coworker is a no-no, especially in restaurants. it gets messy (but it happens nonetheless). it’s not like you can go up to him and talk to him as if nothing happened. he didn’t exactly set you up for success either. he left without a word, and now you’re forced into the same space as him, clueless as to what to do. you decide to just ignore him unless absolutely necessary.

ryujin hops over next to you, a little too peppy for how you’re feeling.

“are you ready for a great service tonight?” ryujin says sarcastically, but with a grin.

“i want it to be over already,” you force out a dry chuckle, still half-assing the prep for your tables.

“the hell is wrong with you?” ryujin snorts.

“i’ll just—“ you start, but then realize you felt eyes burning into you. you look up the moment seonghwa’s gaze shifts, going back to wiping down the bar. “um, i’ll tell you later.”

“okay…” ryujin says, puzzled. she walks back to her section to prep.

your eyes are compelled to shift back up to seonghwa. at this point it just feels embarrassing to be wondering what he’s thinking, wondering if he felt what you felt sunday night. your thoughts are interrupted by hongjoong approaching you with a tall man, someone new.

“this is yunho,” hongjoong says, almost presenting the man to you. “he’s going to be trailing you tonight. just show him the ropes and i’ll grab him once dinner service slows down.”

yunho steps forward, extending a hand to you. “it’s so nice to meet you!” he gives you a warm smile as you shake his hand.

“it’s nice to meet you too, yunho,” you say, surprised by the immediate kindness. this feels a lot nicer than how you’ve been treated before.

tuesday nights are usually slow, even during dinner service. you had a decent amount of tables, but nothing you couldn’t handle. and fortunately the new guy caught on really quickly, grabbing the drinks for your tables, clearing empty plates when needed… working with him was making your shift a breeze.

“you’ve worked in restaurants before, haven’t you?” you ask yunho. you refill a water jug for your table with him in the back.

“yeah, i have,” he says meekly, rubbing the back of his neck. “you can tell?”

“definitely,” you nod with a smile. “what happened at the last place?”

“the management,” he chuckles, and you knew exactly what he meant without any explanation. “don’t tell anyone, but i quit without notice.”

you fake a gasp, pretending to clutch your pearls. you let out a light-hearted laugh. “don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

yunho gives a sweet smile to you, eye contact lingering a bit. you look down and realize the jug of water started overflowing and quickly move it away, letting out a humored yelp.

“oops,” he whispers, and you both giggle quietly to each other while wiping down the mess.

little did you know, seonghwa was entering the back to switch kegs for the beer on tap, and he walked in on your giggle-fest. he looks between the two of you momentarily as he continues to the back. you don’t even notice him until he passes. in a strange way, you can almost see annoyance radiating off of him. but maybe you’re making things up?

at the end of service, you finish closing all your tabs and count your tips at the bar with ryujin and wooyoung. yunho was in the back with hongjoong, debriefing the shift. you assumed seonghwa was in the back too, but you pushed away the curiosity.

“what a slow night,” ryujin sighs. she holds up her measly few bills and fakes a cry.

“how was training the new guy?” wooyoung inquires, packing his things.

“it was really good,” you can’t help but smile a little too big. your face drops when seonghwa walks back out to the bar, carrying a pack of beer to restock. you swear he steals a glance at you before kneeling down to refill the low-boys.

“speak of the devil!” ryujin grins, with all of you shifting your view to see yunho walking to the bar with an apron in hand.

“i think you guys might be seeing a lot more of me from now on,” he says, fake-cockily. the three of you congratulate him, all while seonghwa minds to himself.

“when’s your next shift then?” you ask.

“hongjoong said i’ll train the rest of the week, and then my first day live is sunday,” he says, throwing his bag on his shoulder.

“you know what that means…” wooyoung voices mischievously.

“uhhh, what does that mean?” yunho utters, a curious expression on his face.

“sunday celebration!” ryujin throws her hands up in excitement.

“what the hell is sunday celebration?” yunho laughs.

“basically,” ryujin starts, “it’s where we all go out after our shift to a dive bar nearby and drink away our sorrows. but this time we can drink in ACTUAL celebration!”

“i could be down for that,” yunho says. he looks directly to you. “will i see you there?”

your lips part to answer, but your ears are punctured by glass shattering, and the sound of beer fizzing on the floor. your head snaps over to see seonghwa grumbling and picking up the pieces.

“party foul!” wooyoung says jokingly, but then was met with seonghwa’s glare. “kidding…”

you stand from the bar stool and gather your things, taking the cue to leave. “i’m gonna head out. yunho, see you tomorrow?”

“yup,” he says, holding back a smile. “i’ll see you then.”

you turn to walk to the door, feeling eyes like daggers piercing your back.

seonghwa is messing up a lot lately. which is very unlike him, being that he’s a perfectionist. you rang up an order of drinks for your tables, and yeah it was quite a few drinks, but you had never seen him mistake a gin martini for a vodka martini. you approach the drink pass with the misfired drink, setting it down.

“seonghwa,” you call to him, pointing at the drink. “i need a gin martini.”

“that IS a gin martini,” he says flatly, filling a beer from the tap. so sure of himself.

“no,” you insist. “this is vodka.”

he approaches the pass, setting down the beer with its appropriate ticket. he plucks a cocktail straw to do a straw taste of the drink. but with the sip, he wasn’t remotely shaken. he just tosses the liquid in the sink, remaking it without a word.

“you just gonna stand there and watch?” he says while stirring the beverage.

“are you gonna make it right this time?” you snap.

he places the drink on the pass, clearly pissed off. he slams the ticket next to the drink and glares at you, almost too close. you feel the huffs of his irritated breaths fanning your face, and for the first time since that night, you really look at each other. but all that was tangible in the air was anger.

“run your drink, princess.” he enunciates your nickname, packing a punch.

after finishing your closing duties, you’re ready to leave and put this shift behind you. you wave goodbye to your coworkers and start heading out the back door, it being held open by a loose brick. just as your feet hit the pavement of the alley, you hear your name being called behind you.

“wait!” you turn to yunho calling after you, and stopping in the doorway. “you leaving?”

“oh, uh, yeah,” you say, adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “i got all my side work done so i’m heading home.”

“oh, okay,” he says shyly, obviously with a second thought on his mind.

you look at each other for a moment, but not out of awkwardness, just with a peculiar feeling of enticement.

“so um, how was training with wooyoung today?” you ask.

“oh yeah,” yunho laughs. “it was good. he’s really funny with his tables.”

“yeah, that guy’s definitely a yapper,” you both giggle to each other in amusement.

“sooo… you’re walking home?” he asks, leaning on the frame of the door.

“i usually walk home, i don’t live that far,” you explain.

“me too! maybe i can walk you—“ yunho gets cut off by seonghwa barging into the doorway.

“can i borrow her for a sec?” seonghwa says, barely making it a question.

yunho hesitantly nods, “yeah, um, i guess i’ll see you later?” he says to you, giving you a small wave.

“yeah, i’ll see you tomorrow yunho,” you force a smile, with a pleading HELP ME written behind your eyes.

seonghwa leads you to the walk in, slamming the door behind him. he hovers over you and you can literally see the heat fuming off of him.

“what do you want, seonghwa?” you ask bluntly, trying your best not to sound intimidated.

“we need to talk,” he growls at you, stepping forward, forcing you to press up against the wall behind you.

“about what?” you quip with a begging tone. is this really the time to talk about it?

your eyes bore into each other, faces inches apart. his snarl nearly dissipates when he rips his eyes away from yours for a moment to glance at your lips. you blink up at him in temptation. you can feel the tension in the air, wondering if it was contempt or all encompassing desire. perhaps it was both.

“th–that shit you pulled earlier, don’t do it again,” seonghwa hesitantly lets out, nearly losing his composure.

“what, when you fucked up my drink order?” you ask.

“when you grilled me in the middle of service,” he defends.

“for fucking up, yeah,” you say, crossing your arms. “doesn’t feel nice to be scolded for your mistakes, does it?”

he glares at you for a beat, clearly unsure how to dig himself out of this hole. a hole that he dug. as if he snapped out of a trance, he steps back slightly. he clenches his jaw, and in a swift motion, withdraws from the walk-in. you’re left alone, still pressed up against the icy wall. a rolling cloud escapes your lips, making you realize you had been holding your breath.

it felt like sunday night didn’t come soon enough. this weekend was busier than usual, so all the running around on top of the rigidity of seonghwa was making you go mad. it’s difficult to avoid someone you hate when you have to retrieve drink orders from him all day. luckily, he just reserved to himself and you followed suit.

throwing your bag onto the bar, you slump into the bar seat at the end of the night.

“here,” hongjoong passes a shift beer to each of the servers at the bar, including you. “you guys need these after this weekend.”

you give a thank you while cracking it open, taking a big gulp. you let out a big sigh of relief.

“you’re right, hongjoong,” you say blissfully. “i did need this.”

ryujin snickers next to you, nudging your shoulder. “there will be plenty more at sunday celebration, don’t you worry.”

“speaking of,” san says, grabbing the shoulders of yunho. “congrats on your first live shift, yunho!”

“yeah, how was it?” you ask. you can’t help but smile at the beaming man.

“it went…” yunho starts, pausing for effect. “swimmingly.”

“sounds like a cause for celebration!” ryujin sing-songs, raising her beer in salute.

you all raise your glasses, short one person of course: seonghwa, who was mopping down the bar floor. after a hefty drink, wooyoung crushes his can first and tosses it in the trash.

“let’s start celebrating, sannie,” wooyoung says, throwing his arm over san’s shoulder. (seriously, what the hell is going on there?)

san and wooyoung book it out the door and ryujin follows soon after, finishing her beer and beckoning you to join.

“almost done, you go ahead!” you encourage, packing up your things hap-hazardly with one hand and chugging your beer with the other.

“shit, you guys drink fast,” yunho says, swishing his beer around to hear how much he has left. with a laugh he says, “wish i could just take this to go.”

“i won’t tell,” you whisper to him, grabbing him to join you. “walk with me?”

“okay,” yunho smiles, almost looking like he had stars in his eyes.

you two waltz out the door, leaving seonghwa at the bar cleaning alone. and with your eyes finally averted away, he can finally have no shame in watching you intently out the window. he is so fucked.

“here’s to yunho!” mingi hosts the cheers, with everyone raising their glasses, clinking them together and collectively taking a drink.

“guys,” yunho says with his face still contorted from the liquor. “thank you so much. you’ve all been so welcoming!”

“of course, you’re part of the fam now!” san smiles, wrapping his arm around the man’s shoulders.

everyone takes their respective seats and mingle amongst each other, all while taking more shots and drinking more beer. you, of course, were sat with ryujin and wooyoung talking about the latest work drama.

“have you guys noticed something different about seonghwa lately?” wooyoung asks. “like when he broke that beer the other night? i swear, the whole year i’ve worked here i’ve never seen him break a thing.”

“dude, yes,” ryujin says, leaning in. “he fucked up a couple of my drink orders today. so weird.”

“he’s definitely been in a bad mood lately,” you mumble, holding back from telling your secret.

“yeah, more than usual,” ryujin rolls her eyes. “he probably just needs to get laid.”

you choke back a bit on your drink, taken off guard by the comment. you realize the problem is not that he needs to get laid, but that he did get laid. and now he’s being tortured by seeing the poor girl at work every day. why did he have to sleep with you when you know he feels nothing but disdain for you? are you just a toy to him? you begin to feel dizzy, partly from the alcohol, but also from the thoughts spinning in your head.

“you okay?” wooyoung asks you, handing you a water. you nod and take the drink from him, but his eyes are quickly diverted to the bar. “oh shit, seonghwa is here.”

“what?” ryujin tries her best to look subtly. “do you think our shit-talking manifested him?”

“i don’t know,” you huff, trying to figure out a way to avoid him. “but i’m gonna go sit on the patio.”

“there’s a patio?” yunho chimes in, hearing the last bit. “can i join?”

you smile and nod, leading him back. this will be a good distraction.

“so…” you start, leaning against the wooden patio covering. “how do you like it here? at the restaurant, i mean.”

“it’s definitely different,” yunho laughs. he leans on the covering next to you. “everyone is super nice, the food is good… and it’s nice to work for a local business. the management seems to really care about the employees.”

“definitely, hongjoong is great manager.” you nod to him.

“it’s actually crazy,” yunho starts. “i’ve never seen so many attractive people all working in one place before.”

“what, like ryujin? or wooyoung? or san?” you giggle, realizing he was right. you do have a LOT of hot coworkers.

“well, sure,” yunho says shyly. “but no, i meant you.”

“oh,” you say, caught off guard. you suddenly feel a lot more drunk. you look up at him momentarily, him leaning closer to you.

if someone else saw this body language from an outside perspective, they’d think that he looks like he wants to kiss you. and so what if he did? would it be the worst thing in the world to entertain this, even after your mess with seonghwa?

yunho leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, quick but sweet. when he pulls away, you’re left looking at him with an unreadable expression, but in your mind, you were reeling.

there was something… missing. and it irritated the fuck out of you. yunho did give you butterflies, but you wonder if it’s just because it feels nice to have attention on you. especially from someone that’s actually kind and seems like he actually wants to get to know you. but in your crazy toxic head, you realize what was missing. passion.

“i-i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have done that,” yunho says, touching his fingertips on his lips.

“no, no,” you say, grabbing his arm. “it’s okay.”

before yunho can get out a word, the back door shuts with seonghwa walking out, witnessing the scene. you can’t resist stepping back slightly from yunho, as if it’s not too late to be caught. he looks between you and seonghwa, adding two and two together just from the tension alone.

“i think i’m gonna head back inside,” yunho says, rubbing the back of his neck. “sorry, again.”

“yunho, wait,” you call after him, but he already shuts the door behind him.

“let him leave,” seonghwa commands, leaning against the wall.

“what are you even doing here, seonghwa?” you ask, already putting your guard up.

“the fuck are you doing with the new guy?” he says, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it with a match. of course he’s one of those pretentious dudes that uses a fucking match to light a cig.

“since when do you smoke?” you say, desperately trying to change the subject.

“i don’t,” he says casually, blowing a cloud into the air. “just been stressed lately.”

“i can tell,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “it’s like you forgot how to bartend.”

“it’s not just work,” he says, brushing off the insult you threw at him. “it’s also you.”

“what about me?” you basically refuse, shaking your head. “i’ve been doing exactly what you want me to do. i don’t talk to you, i don’t look at you. i pretty much avoid you at all costs. you’re off the hook, seonghwa. you don’t have to worry about me bothering you.”

“who says that’s what i wanted?” seonghwa says, finally looking directly to you.

“you didn’t have to say it,” you spit at him, forcing him silent.

the air feels heavy. seonghwa struggles to find words for what he wanted to say. he looks down again, ashing his half-smoked cigarette. the back door opens to wooyoung and san following after him, both opting to sit in the patio chairs in the corner. they continue their conversation, and seonghwa looks to you.

“we should talk somewhere more private,” he says, motioning to your coworkers. he’s already grabbing his keys from his pocket.

“why, so you can keep being an asshole to me without an audience?” you say.

“because i want to finish what we started,” he mumbles, walking out of the patio and to the back parking lot.

you try your best to resist, but curiosity overcame you as you follow.

after a short but tense drive, you arrive at what seems to be seonghwa’s apartment. he shuts the engine off and jumps out of his car. you slowly try to register what the hell is happening, unbuckling and hopping out. seonghwa doesn’t look back you, he just continues walking, knowing you’re trailing after him. he unlocks his front door, letting both of you in. he closes the door behind you, watching you examine your surroundings.

“this is exactly how i imagined your place,” you say, almost to yourself.

“you’ve been imagining my apartment?” he smirks.

“yeah,” you scoff. “it’s just as cold and rigid as you.”

“thanks,” he mutters sarcastically.

“so now what?” you say expectantly. “you bring me back here yell at me? make me cry?”

“there’s only one scenario i want of you crying,” he says, stepping closer to where he’s leaning over you. you suddenly feel stone-cold sober.

“and what’s that?” you say, tongue in your cheek, pretending not to know exactly what’s about to happen. and pretending you don’t want it so bad.

seonghwa grabs your cheek, beckoning your face closer to his. his eyes bore into yours, before landing down to your lips. not holding back anymore, he presses his lips onto yours with purpose. your lips meld into his, placing your hands on his chest. your kiss deepens in fervor, as if the hunger completely took over both of you. soon enough, you’re moving together towards his bedroom, clothes and inhibitions shedding along the way.

you fall back onto the bed with seonghwa standing over you. he takes off his belt while looking down at you with a look that can only be described as burning desire. once he discards his pants, he slowly runs his fingers across your panty-clad core. you’re embarrassed by how fucking wet you are already, slightly closing your legs around him.

“no no, princess,” he smirks down at you, licking his lips. “keep them open for me.”

you do as your told, letting him push your underwear to the side and feeling the wetness between your folds. he gathers some of your slick and brings his fingers to his mouth, savoring it.

“fuck,” he tilts his head up as he groans, unintentionally bucking his hips against the edge of the bed. “you taste so fucking good.”

with one hand gripping your thigh, the other hand dips back to your heat to slowly insert his middle finger in you. he lets you adjust momentarily before sliding in his ring finger, curling them both. he thrusts in and out, all while watching you squirm under his touch. he just watches in awe, mouth hanging open as he fixates on your pussy enveloping his digits, coating them with your essence. he releases the hand on your thigh to palm himself at the sight. he twitches in his underwear, precum soaking through at the tip.

as if he couldn’t take it anymore, he withdraws his fingers from inside you and rips your underwear, completely tearing the fabric to have more access to you. he tugs his bottoms down to release his aching cockhead, the tip leaking in a long drip onto you. he guides his member down the length of your core to gather your juices and stimulating your clit all the while.

with an elongated hiss, he enters you slowly. you’re taking every inch of him, pulsating around him. you moan with him as he starts rolling his hips into you. you can feel his head hitting every inch of your walls, the pressure making you moan in sweet agony. your sounds ring in his ears, savoring the whimpers you let out just for him. this quickens his pace, still driving into you with cadence.

he’s literally fucking you into the mattress, splitting you open with vigor. you find it impossible to keep from tightening around him in pleasure, and he loses a bit of his rhythm. he pulls out of you completely.

“you’re gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that,” he says between exasperated breaths. he holds his length above you, slapping it onto your core. he bites his lip to hold back a groan before grabbing your waist to switch positions.

he sits up on the bed and places you on top of him. he holds your waist as he guides you down onto his cock. he examines every inch of your face, reveling at the way it contorts at the feeling of him entering you. once you adjust to him again, you start moving. you ride him, throwing your head back. seonghwa takes the opportunity to kiss and bite at the expanse of your neck. he moans as he begins thrusting upwards in tandem with you. he’s hitting all the right spots, and your bodies move together like a dance.

the moans you let out are uncontrollable, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. it feels like no one’s ever made you feel this way, feel this good. and maybe it’s true; maybe no one has ever awakened this primal, animalistic desire within you. it feels addictive, and you could not get enough. you pull him closer, yearning to feel every inch of his glistening body against yours, desperate for your forms to meld together in an all-encompassing embrace.

he crashes his lips to yours in a fervent kiss, a surge of passion pouring through and intensifying with every passing second. he reaches his hand down to toy with your clit, forcing you off his lips to let out a wanton moan. you core clenches around his length and a wave of stimulation transcends your body.

“cum with me, baby,” seonghwa lets out softly, continuing to thrust into you and toying with your clit.

you throw your head back in ecstasy, all while seonghwa’s eyes devour every inch of you, mesmerized by the sounds of your moans, the sweat trickling down your neck. each movement and touch sends shivers down his spine, solidifying his obsession with you. he wishes with every fiber of his being he could immortalize this sight in his mind forever. he is absolutely captivated by you.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs before resting his hand just below the side of your face.

his jaw goes slack when your core clenches erratically around him, drinking up this view as you completely come undone on his cock. he continues to piston into you until he follows immediately after, no longer holding back his moans of euphoria.

as your hips both begin to slow to a stop, seonghwa pulls you off of him, eyes still full of unrelenting lust.

“get on top of me,” he says, pulling you to straddle his face. “i want to taste myself in you.”

his hands grip your thighs as he guides your folds to his eager mouth. as soon as your core meets his tongue, a moan escapes his lips. his seed is still spilling out of you, and he licks up every drop with determination. your hips are still above him, hesitant to put your full weight on him.

“i need you sit on my face,” he says between licks. “i want you to fucking suffocate me.”

his hands on your thighs urge you down, letting you become fully seated on his mouth. he devours you, exploring every inch of you. you rock your hips against his tongue, each motion intensifying your pleasure. his hands encourage you to move faster, to take what you want from him. he separates from your core briefly to groan.

“baby, fuck my tongue,” he commands, attaching back onto you, granting you full access to his mouth.

you let his tongue slide into you and thrust onto it, all while his nose bumps at your clit. you feel the tension building in your stomach once again. the overstimulation sends you spiraling, hips continuing to grind onto his hungry tongue. you see his eyebrows knitting together in bliss, the vibrations of his insistent moans sending a pang throughout your body.

“seonghwa, p-please,” you beg, as if you weren’t the one on top of him, fucking his mouth. his dominance overtook you in every way, no matter what position. “i’m going to cum.”

he nods as if he’s saying, ‘yes, please cum on my face, please let me feel you,’ but is stifled by the grinding of your hips. he flattens his tongue so you can thrust your folds on him, and he’s smirking with lust behind his eyes. you let out a cry in pure bliss, your core contracting and spilling your essence onto his lips. he swallows every drop before latching his mouth back onto your clit, prolonging your orgasm. your movements slow down, and you let out a satisfied moan.

you fall off of him, positioning to rest your head on his chest. the waves of pleasure start to subside, and the only thing that can be heard in the silent air was the synchronization of your heartbeats. then reality hits you.

“seonghwa,” you say quietly. “what are we doing? why are we doing this?”

“i don’t know,” he sighs, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through your hair. he struggles to find the right words. “i just… i don’t think i want this to stop.”

you lift your head up, almost thinking it’s a joke. but when you look into his eyes, you can tell he’s being genuine.

“but… but you hate me,” you say.

“i could never hate you,” he urges. he places his hand on your cheek, stroking softly.

you want so badly to believe him, to trust the softness in his eyes. but a voice in the back of your head reminds you that this is temporary, this isn’t real for him, and urges you to not fall for this trap. your mind plays over the past few weeks of turmoil between you. you recall every harsh word, every cold stare, and wonder if this moment of tenderness can truly outweigh all of that pain. is it worth risking your heart again?

“then i need you to explain yourself,” you say, pushing his hand away. “tell me why you’ve been like this with me.”

he sits up, taking a deep breath. “i’ve been so fucking stupid,” he shakes his head. “i think all these years of working at a restaurant kind of roughed me up. i think i built these walls to try and prove myself in the industry, to prove something to myself. and it made me become someone i don’t even like.”

he meets your gaze, seeing your anticipation for him to continue.

“and then i met you, and i still had these walls. i walked all over you and made you feel like shit. and what’s so fucked up about it is that despite that, i actually started to like you,” he runs his fingers through his hair. “i was scared. i’m still scared.”

you never expected him to be this vulnerable with you, let alone confess his feelings for you. you sit up and kiss him softly, intimately.

in that moment, the barriers between you begin to crumble. it’s not going to be easy, but for the first time, you find yourself on the same page.

“i don’t know what comes next,” you say softly. “but we can be scared together.”

a/n: guys i am so proud of this one! i hope i successfully portrayed the intensity between them. shit got my heart racing personally. again, im new to writing fics so plz leave feedback and reblog to support me! thank u sooooo much ♡

edit: sadly there will be no part 3, but i will be releasing something new within the next week or so, so stay tuned 🫶🏻

✰taglist✰ @trinityhasjams @mxnsxngie @sooberryworld @mingtinysworld @spenceatiny18

#park seonghwa #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fic #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #ateez one shot

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caotictimmy · 16 days ago

Note

🍏- ANON? MAYBE??? it's so late for me but reading your nsfw on Daisuke...UAAAGHHH SAAGHHH 🗣️ he's such a vocal man and the whole morning sex thing where he can't get into you quick enough .helpop helppp meeeee helpppp

(maybe this is a request? Maybe I'm just yapping lowkey??? But if you want to write on this, by all means go for it LMAO)

Giggling over Swansea being mortified while walking in on reader x daisuke getting it on, I imagine they don't notice him and Daisuke is getting all needy trying to keep his pace 🤞 That boy has never felt the touch of person romantically so I could onllllyyyy assume that he'd been sensitive his first time. Or like. Every time with reader- especially if they're still on the ship. He's trying to not make too much noise as everyone is asleep ☹️ his whiney ass is NOT making it through that night. Bonus if reader is nonchalant about it the next day at lunch. They're talking with someone about their poor love lives (finding people to stay with how long their jobs shipments are)- reader dropping shit like 'aw man yeah. if only there was someone to really understand me, y'know?'. As if Daisuke wasn't memorizing their insides and how they physically react to him with his body just last night 😭

HELP 🍏 ANON THIS MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD I ALMOST FELL OFF MY BED. But this is Acually so smart. I always believe Daisuke gets lost in the sauce when you guys have sex. For the headcanon I was thinking they were known dating. But for this let’s pretend the crew doesn’t know Daisuke and reader are dating. The first kind middle part will be NSFW. But the rest should be NSFW. This will be done as a one shot. (I’ll also include your little bonus! Plus a little more:3)

What was that god damn noise..? Swansea thought. Irradiated as he heard a squeaking sound, an indescribable muffled sound coming along with it. For fucks sake he just wanted to get some rest! But those loud noises would not let the poor man drift to sleep. He was gonna put a stop to that noise. Once and for all.

Swansea swings his legs over the side of his bed, sitting up. Stretching his arms as he gets ready to investigate what the noise is, and where it’s coming from. He stands up, his back making a loud crack.( I love old man Swansea). He slips his slippers on. Grabbing and putting on his robe by the door. Slowly pushing the door open. Before silently shutting the door. The noise got louder. Even though the walls were paper thin. It still muffled some of the noise.

He tread carefully through the halls. Getting closer to the noise. Swansea could hear talking maybe? The squeaking of something getting louder the more he approaches. Wait. He’s getting closer to Daisuke’s room..? What the hell was that kid doing. He could hear a faint panting? He started walking a bit faster.

Daisuke’s door was cracked open. God was the kid hurt-. Oh… Oh dear god.. For the love of pony express why did he have to be the one to catch this scene. He could now clearly see what was happening now. God why him..? (Warning for what’s ahead will be NSFW)

“Nyyhhh… F-fuck you feel so good. G-god so good. Am I doing good? Mhm!.. a-am I doing good for you. Wanna make sure your feeling as ..ahh ~… as good as I am.” Daisuke whimpered out. His arms wrapped around your waist as he continues going his rough pace.

“Yes! O-oh fuck hah… doing so good for me!”, Your voice muffled as you were face first in your pillow. Daisuke’s body pressing against your back. Like he was trying to mold his body with you. A loud ‘plap’ sound being able to be heard.

Swansea felt his face contort in horror. He could feel his stomach twist in disgust. He definitely walked in on something he definitely shouldn’t have. So what did he do. He went back to his room. Staring at the ceiling with that petrified face still stuck on his face. To say he wasn’t able to sleep that night would be an understatement

“I feel like it’s impossible to date anyone with this crappy job.” Anya huffed in a frustrated tone. “I second to that.”, Curly sighed as he ate his crappy lunch.” Our shipments at a Minimum are 5 months! And it’s like we get a month or two back on earth, before they send us back to ship something!” Anya finished. The annoyed look on her face quite prominent.

“I get you Anya. I want to Acually spend time with someone and let them get to know me. But you can’t really do that on this floating rock.”, You said nonchalantly. You sure were letting Daisuke get to know you. All of you… Swansea thought. Trying not to gag at the imagie of what he witnessed last night.

You could feel Daisuke’s eyes turn to you. Lingering a bit longer than ‘just friends’. “Yeah man, it’s such a bummer!” Daisuke said. A light blush spread across his face as he said it. No one else except Swansea noticed.

“Say uh..” Anya started, looking up at you. “I saw you walking in here with a limp, you good?” She asked,her voice laced with concern. God why did you have to ask that Anya! Swansea cringed at her question. “Oh yea no I’m good! Just hit my leg on the wall while sleeping y’know.” You said. Hmh.. I’m sure you were doing some sort of sleeping. Swansea hurrying to finish his food. Quickly getting up to put his plate in the sink and immediately start work. He really just wants to take his mind off this..

“Swan-sea!” Daisuke said, dragging the two parts of Swansea’s name out. Swansea ignored Daisuke, continuing to work on the broken vent. “Dude did I do something wrong?” Swansea sighed. Since Daisuke wanted the truth he’ll get it.”For fucks sake Daisuke! Can you have them stop fucking like rabbits! I know you young people have your urges, but this has been going on for the past week. And it’s Saturday for crying out loud!” Swansea yelled.

“AND IF YOU FREAKS ARE GONNA KEEP GOING AT IT. AT LEAST KEEP THE DOOR SHUT AND BE QUIET. SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP.” Swansea finished, catching his breath. Daisuke just stood there stunned.

“You.. you heard us..?” Daisuke asked, his mouth agape and his eyes shot wide. “I didn’t just hear you guys. Saw it to! Close the damn door next time!” Swansea said irritated. Daisuke continued to stand there embarrassed. “Swansea uh.. I-I’m so sorry I didn’t realize.” Daisuke stuttered out. Still shocked about the revelation.

“Yeah you better be fucking sorry” Swansea muttered. Turning around before pausing. Sighing a bit. “At lest your getting some action in this hell hole. Reminds me of me and my wife.” He said. Before holding his fist out. “I’m only gonna do this once Daisuke.” Swansea said. Daisuke happily returned the fist bump.

“Now get the hell out of my sight for the rest of the day!” Swansea yelled. “Alright swan-sea!” Daisuke said, doing the same long period name thing. Swansea let out an annoyed sigh. At least the kid was happy…

#mouthwashing smut #mouthwash #mouthwash smut #mouthwashing #mouthwashing game #mouthwashing x reader #daisuke x reader #mouthwash game #mouthwash x reader #daisuke mouthwashing #daisuke smut

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lottiies · 5 months ago

Text

last minute remedy

di leon kennedy x fem!reader

basically, he just fucks you to sleep upon request

note: just a little something to ease my insomnia :3 definitely wanna write about him with a hybrid!reader when i can dedicate more time to writing something long and thought out yipee

leon could never deny you anything. you were his pretty princess. how could he not give in whenever you flashed him a pout and that puppy-dog look of yours that you had perfected to a tee? others would call you spoiled, but whatever you wanted, leon happily gave.

so when you woke him up in the middle of the night with a whisper of his name, a few taps on his shoulder, your cute eyes all wide and expectant as you asked him to fuck you to sleep, he caved pretty quickly.

poor thing, he knew you struggled with falling asleep.

it didn’t take long for his cock to get hard, just the sight of your hand pawing at his boxers was enough to get all his blood rushing south. not to mention the way you pulled your panties off and bunched the fabric of your nightgown up to your hips out of desperation.

fuck. you were so pretty.

that’s how he got here, settled on top of you with his hips nestled between your thighs and your calves lazily crossed over his torso. he’s slow with his movements, letting every inch of his cock fill your needy cunt before pulling out to rub his precum dribbling tip against your clit, and then burying himself back in.

he goes so deep it has your eyes brimming with feel-good tears, and they roll down your cheeks when you shut your eyes.

“yeah, just close your eyes and feel me. don’t gotta worry about a thing, sweet girl.”

he leans down to kiss away your tears, the salty taste of them having become oh so dearly familiar from past moments where you sat on his lap and sobbed your eyes out. or in intimate settings like these where all the pleasurable shocks going through your body had you tearing up.

what a crybaby, he loved it.

who needs a heavy blanket to keep the coldness away when your boyfriend’s body exudes enough heat to keep you all warm and cozy? his body drapes over yours so perfectly.

he knows when you’re close, you don’t even gotta tell him. he feels you squeezing like a vice and he has to resist the urge to creampie you right then and there.

he takes a deep breath, propping himself up on one of his forearms. he’s not getting any younger and he can’t hold back for as long, not when he has a cutie like you under him. he has to make you finish before he spills. his other hand gives one of your tits a gentle squeeze before lowering so the pad of his thumb can circle your swollen clit. his thumb slipped a bit, that’s how soaked you were.

“shh, that’s it…i’ve got you.” he rasps as he presses a kiss against your temple. “just like princess. doing so well for me. you’re gonna dream of me after this, yeah?”

his voice is like a lull, blending in perfectly with the soft sound of your uneven breathing. if you weren’t so damn sleepy, you would’ve been embarrassed by how wet you were, the squelching sounds echoing through the quiet room.

your legs weakly squeeze him, your fingers digging into the sheets, soft and shaky breaths spilling from your lips with sleepy murmurs of his name. “leon, leon, leon…”

no more need to buy gummies and other medications that put you at the risk of getting nightmares. not when leon is more than willing to soothe you by stuffing his dick inside you whenever you ask him to.

it doesn’t even matter that he didn’t shoot a load, just knowing that you were able to go to drift off to dreamland is enough for him.

he gently cleans you up with a warmly washed towel and then freshens up as well before placing a kiss on your forehead as he tucks you in and then slides right next to you, keeping you safe by his side.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader

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parkerslatte · 5 months ago

Text

Relax For Me

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: smut. wing play. masterbation.

Summary: After Azriel comes home from a long mission, his best friend, Y/N, helps him relax.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Y/N closed the doors to her balcony and drew the curtains. The sun was only just setting but she wanted an early night, ever since she had woken up that morning she only craved to go back to sleep. Y/N yawned as she shuffled to her bedroom and climbed under the cool covers. She smiled as she did so, basking in the feeling of the cold sheets against her warm skin.

The silk pillow was soft beneath her head and Y/N allowed her eyes to close, wanting nothing more than to drift off into that peaceful unconscious state. As she began to feel herself drifting off, there was a quiet knock at her front door. Y/N groaned and pulled the covers closer underneath her chin. If she ignored the noise then it would go away. However, not even a few seconds later, there was another knock and this time it was more urgent.

With a sigh, Y/N pulled the covers from her body and shuffled back through her apartment and to the front door. She frowned as she opened it, prepared to yell at whoever it was to leave. But as the door opened and revealed Azriel standing on the other side, all the irritation drained from Y/N.

“Hi,” Azriel said quietly, offering Y/N a small wave.

“Az,” Y/N said, blinking rapidly. “What are you doing here?”

“I finished my mission early,” Azriel said. “I thought I would come to see you.”

Y/N stepped to the side and allowed Azriel to step into her apartment. “Come in.” Azriel stepped past her and Y/N closed the door, locking it behind her. “I thought I wouldn’t see you for at least another few days. Did the rundown with Rhys go quickly?” Y/N continued as she watched Az slump in a chair in the corner of the room.

“I haven’t been to Rhys yet,” Azriel admitted. “I came straight here.”

Y/N finally looked at what he was wearing and frowned. He was still wearing clothes covered in dirt and grime, his wings weren’t much better as they were too covered in mud and other things Y/N couldn’t recognise.

“I missed you,” Azriel said, offering Y/N a small lopsided grin.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile back, she had always loved that specific smile of Azriel’s. “I missed you too.” Y/N stepped closer to him and took his hand in hers, giving it a small squeeze. “I would hug you but I don’t want to get mud on my pyjamas. Do you want me to run you a bath?”

Azriel looked down at Y/N’s attire. “Were you about to go to sleep?”

Y/N nodded. “I was, until you came knocking on my door. I am not complaining though.

Azriel reluctantly let go of Y/N’s hand. “I should let you get back to sleep. I will just go straight to Rhys.”

“No, Az,” Y/N said. “You look like you are about to fall asleep if you stand up. Let me run you a bath and get some clean clothes out for you.”

“I won’t say no if you were to do that,” Azriel said.

Y/N smiled. She bent down lightly and kissed his cheek. “I’ll even let you use all of my fancy soaps.”

“I must look like I’m about to drop dead if you are letting me use those. You nearly took my hand off the last time I went to use those,” Azriel jokes.

“You exaggerate,” Y/N replied. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Leaving Azriel in the living room, Y/N entered her bathroom and began to run a bath for Azriel. She placed a brand new bar of her soap in the small dish next to the basin and poured a modest amount of bubbles into it. Azriel would always say that he hated the bubbles but Y/N knew that she loved them. Y/N let the bath fill up and walked out of the bathroom.

“The bath is currently filling up,” Y/N said to Azriel. “You can get undressed in the bathroom. If you leave your clothes outside, I can get a start on washing them for you.”

“Y/N, you don’t need to do that,” Azriel said. “I can do it back at my own apartment.”

“Az, I insist,” Y/N replied. “You look exhausted and all I want to do right now is make sure you have a nice relaxing night. I have some of your clothes here, I’ll leave them just outside of the bathroom.”

Azriel stood from the chair and reached out to Y/N, gently caressing her hand. “What would I ever do without you?”

“I’m unsure as we have been friends for centuries and there is not a moment I can think of off the top of my head where I haven’t been by your side, of course except when you go on missions,” Y/N said.

Azriel rolled his eyes and walked away to the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him. Y/N let out a small breath before settling down on the couch.

***

It wasn’t long before Y/N was interrupted from what she was doing by Azriel calling out her name. From the other side of the door she could still hear the sound of him in the water so she was unsure why she was being called.

“Az?” Y/N spoke through the door. “What’s wrong?”

There was a hesitant pause before Azriel spoke again. “Can you come in here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Please,” Azriel asked. “It’s easier to explain that way. The bubbles are covering everything, don’t worry.”

Y/N slowly opened the door and gasped at the sight. The whole side of Azriel’s rib cage was bruised and a small gash was in the centre of it. “Az, what happened?” Y/N rushed over to him.

“It was just something that happened a couple of days ago, it is healing but quite slowly,” Azriel explained.

“You must have broken a rib or two,” Y/N examined the injury. “Or three.”

“I know,” Azriel said, sitting up a bit further in the bath. Y/N couldn’t help but let her eyes drift slightly but once she realised what she was doing, she snapped them back to Azriel, who luckily didn’t notice her brief distraction.

“What do you need me for?” Y/N asked.

A small blush coated Azriel’s cheeks. “It’s embarrassing to ask now you are here.”

Y/N smiled at him. “Go on, it can’t be that bad.”

“I need you to clean my wings,” Azriel replied, his blush deepening. “I’ve managed to do the bottom of them but I can’t reach the top without this stupid injury causing me pain.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, avoiding looking at Azriel directly.

“Forget it,” Azriel said. “It was stupid of me to ask.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Y/N said, fighting the urge to brush the wet strands of hair away from his forehead. “It’s just…you don’t ever let anyone touch your wings.”

“I trust you.” The comment came tumbling out of Azriel’s mouth quickly.

Y/N smiled. “I’m glad.”

Azriel cleared his throat. “Yes, well you don’t need to do it if you don’t wish to. I’m sure I can manage.”

“I will do it for you, Az,” Y/N said.

Azriel didn’t respond, not even when Y/N reached for the small washcloth beside him. He continued to stare straight ahead at the shutters and did not move as Y/N gathered supplies.

“Lavender or lemon?” Y/N asked.

“What?” Azriel asked.

“For the oil,” Y/N clarified. “Lavender or lemon?”

“Um, lavender,” Azriel said.

Y/N smiled softly. “Excellent choice.”

Azriel barely nodded as he fixated his eyes ahead once more. The moment Y/N placed the wash cloth against his wing, Azriel immediately flinched away, splashing water at Y/N in the process.

“Sorry,” Azriel mumbled.

Y/N placed the washcloth back onto his wing. This time Azriel did not flinch away but he was tense. Y/N continued to wipe away the grime until she threw the washcloth down onto the floor. Y/N could see all of the tension in Azriel’s body. She leant forward between his wings and draped her body on his.

“What are you doing?” Azriel asked.

“Just relax for me, Azriel,” Y/N whispered into his ear causing Azriel to shudder.

“I’m finding it quite difficult,” Azriel replied.

“Do you trust me?” Y/N asked.

“Of course I do,” Azriel said. “That's why I asked you to do this.”

“Then why are you still so tense?” Y/N asked.

“Because I know that if I relax too much, then…”

Y/N’s eyes briefly glanced down to where the bubbled obstructed Azriel’s lower half and everything clicked together. She always knew that his wings were sensitive but never realised that he could become so pent up just from her washing them.

“I see,” Y/N muttered.

“You should just leave,” Azriel said.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Azriel’s shoulders. “And why should I do that?”

“Because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Azriel muttered, his hands now caressing her arms.

“You won’t make me uncomfortable, Azriel,” Y/N said, her lips grazing his ear. “All you need to do is relax for me. Whatever happens, happens.”

Azriel slowly moved his head to face her and her eyes flicked down to his lips for a brief moment. She wanted to know how it felt to have his lips pressed against hers.

“Whatever happens, happens,” Azriel repeated, his eyes flicking down to her lips. Unlike Y/N, Azriel didn’t try to hide it.

Y/N pulled away and picked up a fresh washcloth and began to wipe off the grime from his wings. Azriel flinched for a moment before relaxing against the bath, allowing Y/N to wipe all the dirt from his wings. A content sigh left his lips as she did so.

Once all of the grime was gone, Y/N looked at Azriel and did not find one trace of rigidness within his body. “I’m going to use the oil now, if that’s okay with you.”

“I’m fine with that,” Azriel responded.

Y/N poured a generous amount of the oil onto her hands, the aroma filling the room. Y/N rubbed it into her hands and slowly reached towards his wings. She had never touched them before but she had always wondered what they felt like. She was pleasantly shocked to find them quite soft and smooth. The occasional small scar changed the texture, but they were nothing like Y/N imagined them feeling.

Azriel’s breathing changed as Y/N continued her movements on his wings, spreading the oil across them. He took heavier breaths and Y/N could already begin to smell the scent of his arousal cutting through the lavender.

Y/N could tell that she had hit a particular sensitive part on his wing as Azriel gripped the side of the bathtub tightly, his knuckles turning white.

“You can leave if you want to, Y/N,” Azriel said, his voice slightly breathless.

“Whatever happens, happens,” Y/N responded. Despite her not receiving the pleasure Azriel was, her voice was breathless too. The blissed out look on Azriel’s face was one she wanted to see more often.

The sensitive part of his wing proved to be a place where Azriel liked to be touched as a soft moan slipped through his lips. “Y/N…”

“Yes?” She asked.

“Please,” Azriel said, his hips twitched under the water, “don’t stop.”

Y/N leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his wing. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

As she massaged the oil into his wings, Y/N continued to pull sweet groans from the shadowsinger. If Y/N was being completely honest, the sound was music to her ears. She had always been somewhat attracted to Azriel but it was only recently where she had begun to question her attraction to him even more and she was sure that her feelings toward him weren’t completely platonic. He was the most beautiful male she had ever seen and even more beautiful now as he cried out in pleasure. Pleasure that she was causing him all because he trusted her.

“Fuck,” Azriel grunted, hips bucking in the water.

“Do you want me to stop?” Y/N teased.

“Don’t you dare,” Azriel said.

Y/N smirked before draping herself across his back once more, her hand continuing their movements on his wing. Azriel pants were even more beautiful to listen to in her ear as she pressed soft kisses against his neck and shoulder.

“Y/N,” Azriel groaned. “If you don’t stop doing that, I will come right here on the spot.”

“Am I just that attractive?” The question was aimed to simply tease Azriel, it was not meant to be taken seriously at all.

“Yes, you are,” Azriel admitted. “You drive me crazy whenever you walk into a room. Do you know how hard it is to not greet you with a kiss whenever I see you? You are the most beautiful female I have ever seen and you have no idea how long I have wanted to say these words.”

Y/N stopped the movements on his wing. “Do you really mean that, Az?”

“Of course I mean it!” He exclaimed. “And we will talk about it after, but right now if you don’t move your damn hand Y/N, I am sure I will simply die in this bath tub.”

Y/N pressed a kiss against his neck. “Always so dramatic.”

Azriel didn’t respond. His only reaction to her words was a series of loud moans, now not afraid to conceal them. “Y/N, I am so close, my love.”

“Touch yourself,” Y/N whispered.

Azriel didn’t need to be told twice as he released his grip from the side of the bath and wrapped a hand around his cock and began to pump it up and down fast. The sounds came tumbling out of his mouth and Y/N did not want to silence them but she couldn’t help herself as she placed her lips over his. They were soft and fit perfectly against hers.

With his other hand, Azriel reached for her and laced his fingers through her hair, deepening the kiss. Y/N only pulled away for a brief moment. “Come for me, my love.”

With only a few more pumps of his cock and an added pressure on the sensitive parts of his wings, Azriel came panting against Y/N’s mouth. He pressed his lips against hers, craving the feeling once more. Y/N held onto him tightly until his high was over.

Azriel slumped against the bath and further into Y/N’s arms. He slowly caught his breath back and opened his eyes.

Y/N smiled at him. “Hi.”

Azriel smiled back. “Hi.”

Y/N pecked his lips. “As much as I don’t want to leave you right now, I think you should finish up here and meet me in the bedroom because we certainly have a few things to discuss.”

“I think so too,” Azriel muttered.

Y/N pulled away from him, despite her not wanting to at all. Her pyjamas were soaked through but she did not care as she walked to the bathroom door. “There are some clothes just outside for you.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Azriel said.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” Y/N said before leaving the bathroom.

With a bright smile on her face, she walked down the short hall to her bedroom. She changed into a new, fresh set of pyjamas and waited for Azriel. It did not take long at all for the bathroom door to open and for footsteps to pad down the hall. The bedroom door was opened and Azriel stood in the doorway. He seemed to quickly dry off his hair as it was sticking up in every direction but Y/N only thought it made him look adorable.

“I love you,” Azriel said suddenly.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Az–”

“I know that this is sudden and I promise that it is not just because you gave me a great orgasm in a bathtub, but I love you. I am in love with you and I have been for a long time,” he admits.

Y/N patted the bed next to her and Azriel walked over and slid under the covers, facing Y/N. “You love me?”

“I do,” Azriel said, reaching out to caress her cheek. “I know I am not good at voicing my feelings and all of this seems so sudden but I need to tell you. We can’t pretend what just happened in the bathroom didn’t just happen and continue with our friendship like normal. I love you, Y/N. If you don’t feel the same way, I understand but I cannot go another day without telling you.”

“Az,” Y/N said, her eyes full of love. “I love you too.”

“You do?” Azriel asked, somewhat shyly.

“Of course I do,” Y/N said. “I thought I only loved you as a friend. But recently I began to notice that friends don’t normally imagine what their friends' lips feel like against theirs. Friends don’t realise that they have always had an attraction to thief friends and find them absolutely breathtaking.” Azriel blushed. “Friends don’t act like a couple. Let’s face it Azriel, we have been acting like a couple for years, minus the kissing.”

Azriel let out a quiet laugh. “I know.”

Y/N smiled before letting out a yawn. “Now as much as I want to continue this conversation, why don’t we go to sleep.”

Azriel smirked before pressing his lips against her jaw. “I thought I could repay you for what you did for me in the bathroom.”

Y/N pulled away from Azriel’s kissed and gently held his face between her hands. “Azriel, as much as I love you, and it feels so good to say that, I was trying to sleep before you arrived here. And if I’m being honest I would rather get a great night sleep with your arms wrapped around me than an earth shattering orgasm right now. Perhaps that can wait until tomorrow. But right now, all I want is to fall asleep in the arms of my love.”

Azriel smiled and pressed a sweet kiss against her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/N said, nuzzling her head into his chest.

Underneath the scent of the soaps Y/N had leant him, she could still smell the familiar scent of Azriel and with that she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

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