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b1eedthefreak · 8 days ago

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daryl with a stoner gf would be adorable I love ur work eeek 💕💕

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. Lucky Day

⌇daryl dixon x stoner!reader

⌇summary: you find a bag of weed after months of not smoking some. you and daryl get high and get…𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

⌇warnings: weed use, oral sex (f receiving), soft high sex

⌇word count: 8.2k

a/n i absolutely saw the vision here and i hope i did this justice (i don’t smoke or anything of that sort so i tried my best to make it accurate 🫰)

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Back in Atlanta, things were bad…just but not bad enough to quit smoking.

And you didn’t mean cigarettes. You meant your stash. A miracle box of tightly rolled joints in a baggie, wrapped up in a scarf at the bottom of your duffel. You’d brought it when you fled the city thinking it’d all blow over soon, and in those first weeks, you smoked like you were trying to get high enough to escape the world entirely. Sitting on top of the RV, legs crossed and clouds floating out of your mouth while people whispered and side eyed but said nothing.

They didn’t understand. But Daryl, Daryl didn’t either, and he said something. Not in a judgy way, more like “That shit ain’t good for ya,” as he lit up another cigarette. You raised a brow. “Mmm, okay, Dixon. Go suck on your cancer stick then.” He snorted, but didn’t push it.

Eventually, the girls had asked you politely to stop smoking around them. So you had. You weren’t cruel. You knew some people were grieving, anxious, holding onto control by their fingernails, and you? You were just trying to float through it without panicking. You still smoked, but you’d hide away, perched on the roof of Dale’s RV with the moon for company.

Then Lori got pregnant.

And you stopped cold. Not because anyone asked, but because it felt wrong. You didn’t need it anymore. You had Daryl. You had hope. And after all that time, your stash had finally run dry.

Two years later, the world had shifted—even more if that was possible. Alexandria. Safety. Soft clothes and soap and patrol shifts on rotation. You and Daryl had been assigned a two-week supply run with just the two of you, and it was your favorite kind of alone time, long, quiet roads and long, quiet nights in sleeping bags zipped together.

You’d been walking in a field outside an abandoned strip of homes when you spotted the trailer. Metal door swinging on one hinge.

You turned to Daryl. “Be right back.”

He was halfway in the trunk of the car, digging through the last crate. “What?”

“I said be right back!” you called, and then you were already running, boots crunching on dry grass as the little metal trailer came into view.

Inside, it was dusty and stale, but untouched. A couch. A kitchen. Some water bottles. And in a box under the sink—

You were grinning wide, holding the bag like it was treasure when the door flew open behind you.

SLAM.

Daryl burst through with his crossbow raised, breath ragged. “The hell?! You don’t just run off like—”

You turned, held up the bag, and grinned brighter. “It’s our lucky day.”

He froze. Blinking at you. Then down at the bag.

Then he groaned and dragged a hand over his face.

“Oh my God,” you laughed. “Look at this! Untouched! Probably a whole ounce!”

“I thought you were in trouble,” he growled, stepping in. “You scared the shit outta me.”

You walked over, still grinning. “C’monnn baby! Look It’s perfectly sealed. And you’re always so tense.” You pulled out one joint. “Let’s celebrate. Just a little?”

“I told ya,” he muttered, slinging his bow on his back, “shit don’t work on me.”

You were already fishing out your lighter, perching on the faded armrest. “Yeah, yeah. You’re so boring.”

He smirked, arms crossed. “Ain’t boring. Jus’ ain’ stupid.”

“Oh please. You smoke cigarettes like they’re air. And you’re worried about weed?”

He opened his mouth, closed it, rolled his eyes. “You ain’t gonna listen to me anyway.”

You lit the joint and took a deep inhale. Sweet and sticky. Homey. You exhaled and let your head fall back with a slow, happy sigh.

“Fuuuuck.”

Daryl watched you, annoyed. Or maybe charmed. Hard to tell with that face.

You took another hit, then stood, stepping close to him. He looked down at you with a huff.

“You’re so sexy when you give me that look.” you whispered, leaning in—and then kissed him, open-mouthed, slow, as you blew the smoke past his lips.

He coughed. Caught it in his throat, pulled back with a scowl, and then blinked, eyes soft.

“What the hell,” he rasped.

You smiled smugly. “Mmm. What was that, Dixon? Didn’t work?”

His eyes flicked to the joint in your hand. Then your mouth.

“Gimme that.”

Twenty minutes later, you were both laid out on the trailer floor, staring up at the cracked ceiling.

“…Why the hell the ceiling movin’ like that?”

You snorted. “It’s not.”

“I swear it is.”

“It’s not baby.”

“…Shit.”

He rolled over to look at you, red eyed and slow. His hair had gone fluffy from the heat, and his cheeks were pink. “This is your fault.”

“Mhm.”

He reached out to touch your wrist. Light. Barely a brush. “You’re really pretty.”

You turned toward him. “You’re really pretty.”

“Yeah?” he asked, half laughing. “I got like—scratches on my face.”

“Apocalyptic scars,” you whispered, scooting closer. “They make you even hotter.”

He swallowed hard. “Think you’re the only person who’s ever said that to me.”

You blinked. “That’s the weed talking.”

“Nah.” He tucked a hand behind your head. “It’s me talkin’. Weed just made it easier.”

You leaned in, kissed him slow. “How you feelin’?”

He smiled lazily. “Floatin’. You?”

You kissed him again. “High and horny.”

“Yeah?” he whispered, dazed. “That’s my girl.”

You ended up on the old couch, tangled in each other.

You were straddling his lap, shirt half off, hands in his hair while he kissed you like you were spun from honey. His hands traced over your back, then forward to cup your breasts—gently, reverently.

“Always want ya like this,” he whispered, mouth warm against your collarbone.

“You’re just stoned.”

“I’m always wantin’ you.” He kissed lower, down your chest, kissing over the fabric. “This just makes me say it out loud.”

You giggled, high and warm. “Yeah, baby?”

He pulled your shirt up fully and kissed one breast, then the other. “Mhm.”

You felt like you were melting.

“You’re so soft,” he mumbled. “So good.” His mouth found your nipple and sucked slow, lips plush and reverent. You gasped.

“Daryl…”

He groaned. “Love you like this. Love every part’a you.”

He rolled his hips up, and you moaned, grinding down against him, dizzy with pleasure and heat and the buzz of it all.

The sex was slow, sweet, a little sloppy. You rode him with your head tipped back, his hands on your waist, both of you giggling and moaning and whispering how much you loved each other like it was gospel.

You came first, trembling, whispering his name. He followed, face pressed to your chest, holding you like a lifeline.

After, you both lay there, sweaty and still stoned, limbs tangled and sticky and stupidly in love.

“I wanna find more trailers,” you mumbled.

Daryl snorted. “Just for the weed?”

“No,” you whispered, nose against his neck. “For you. For this. For everything.”

He kissed your forehead, smiling. “Yeah, alright. Let’s find a whole damn trailer park.”

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#daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #norman reedus #daryl dixion x reader #norman reedus smut #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #daryl twd

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rioromanoffroses · 9 months ago

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Ovulation

G!P Natasha Romanoff x Fem Reader

Warnings: 18+ content, masturbating, oral sex (R and Natasha receiving), finger sucking, dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex (P in V), overstimulation

Summary: You're ovulating while on a mission, causing you to be uncomfortably aroused. Luckily, the agent with you is more than eager to help you out...

WC: 4.1k

The motel was just like any other – grey, dusty and lit only by dim off-white. You would only be here for a night and when you pressed your hand against the cold metal of the radiator, you were glad. You debated whether or not you ask the receptionist about it but keeping your head low was key when travelling on an undercover mission. The more questions you asked and the more times your face was seen and captured by CCTV, the greater the risks. You decided against it.

You inspected the bedroom, following safety procedures which included searching for signs of any electronic devices but luckily, there were none. The bed was a small double with beige, striped sheets that were thinner than you would’ve liked. The back wall was taken up entirely by a sturdy, wooden cupboard that matched the tawny-brown, bedside tables covered in dust. You switched on the lamp and ran your hand over the mattress, noting that you would need to wear thick layers of clothing to bed. You assumed the other bedroom was the same but didn’t bother checking. The other agent could do that.

You sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing your forehead with the palm of your hand. One of the things you hated most about being a woman and a spy was the problems it caused when it conflicted with your cycle. Missions on your period were uncomfortable, draining and painful. Ovulation week was also a mess; you had no way of dealing with the surge of hormones it triggered while on a mission. You made a mental note to take a cold shower after the other agent arrived.

You read over the intel for the upcoming mission while you waited for them, straining your ears for the door. It was a complicated mission; you had to infiltrate the base of a growing terrorist organisation and hack into their systems to gather as much information about them as you could. S.H.I.E.L.D. knew scarily little about the organisation so you were going in almost blind – anything could happen.

The plan was for two agents, including you, to blend in as one of the terrorists to get into the base. You were unaware of the identity of the agent you were paired with. You were curious to know if they were someone you’d worked with before or a complete stranger. You assumed the latter – you were still young and hadn’t been assigned to many difficult missions yet. You tightened your arms around yourself, shivering as the light outside the window was sucked from the sky, the moon blocked out by an array of dark, restless clouds.

“You look cold.” You jumped and leapt on your feet, spinning around to see a woman standing behind you. Her face was painted with a smirk and she looked at you with her hands on her hips, her jade eyes travelling up and down your body. You swallowed. How did you not hear her come in? S.H.I.E.L.D. weren’t exaggerating when they said she was the very best they had at espionage. You didn’t realise you were staring at her until she brought you out of your thoughts, “Cat got your tongue?”

“Uh, sorry,” you said, clearing your throat, “Yeah, I am. East Europe is always freezing at this time of year.” You could feel sweat trickling down your neck. Not only were you ovulating on a mission but you were stuck with an extremely attractive woman during it. You were so fucked.

“Mm, it is,” she said, stepping towards you and offering out her hand. You noticed the electrified branches of azure and emerald running down her arms up to her fingers, pushing up against the skin, your heart thundering against your ribcage. You quickly pulled yourself out of your trance. You were a spy for goodness sake, not the nervous wreck or helpless whore your elevated levels of estrogen were making you feel like. You shook her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said, “I’m Agent Y/l/n.” You pulled your hand away from hers before she could pick up on your clammy palms but unbeknownst to you, she’d already felt them.

“I know,” she said, “I’m Agent Romanoff but to you, it’s Natasha.” You could feel your breath hitch in your throat. Natasha. You could already imagine how those three, pretty syllables would feel falling off your tongue.

You dismissed your dirty thoughts immediately, feeling ashamed of yourself. She was a stranger and your teammate; you seriously needed to pull yourself together. She nodded to the file in your hand, “I see you’re already prepared for the mission.”

“I was just double-checking all the details,” you said. The tight, black shirt and jeans she was wearing hugged her in all the right places, her sculpted arms in full view to you. She must take her training seriously, you thought, I wonder how often she goes to the gym.

“Good,” she said, dropping her bag on the floor, “I already know I’ll enjoy working with you.” You placed your hands behind your back so she couldn’t see your fidgeting fingers. Your gaze fell onto the bag and you frowned.

“Oh, were you planning on sleeping in here?” You said, “I’ll move to the other room then.” She held her arm in front of you as you stepped towards the door.

“There isn’t another room.” You felt your heart drop. You realised the other door must be to the bathroom. You couldn’t imagine how your situation could get any worse, “Are you unhappy with that arrangement?”

“No, not at all,” you lied, “I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.” You swallowed, hard. You started moving towards the door, “I’m going to take a shower,” you mumbled, not waiting for her answer. You fumbled with the handle, cursing under your breath and slammed the door shut behind you.

You didn’t waste any time taking off your clothes and turning on the shower, sighing as the cold droplets collided with your burning skin. The water only offered you a few moments of relief, however. The more you thought about the redhead and how close you’d be together that night, the more you fed the raging arousal between your legs. It became clear that there was only one way you were going to calm yourself down.

You covered your hand with your mouth as you touched yourself, your mind overwhelmed by images of Natasha. It didn’t take long for you to reach your climax and you were certain that the sound of the shower and your hand had muffled out all your moans. You cleaned yourself before stepping out, drying yourself with a towel and getting dressed, praying that your body would be satisfied for the night. When you returned to the bedroom, Natasha was on the bed facing you, resting a pillow on her lap.

“You’re even prettier in real life than you are in your pictures,” she said, the unexpected compliment drowning you in butterflies. You noticed that her cheeks were flushed a bright red and her breaths seemed more laboured than before.

“Really?” you said in disbelief. You had never seen yourself as unattractive but you didn’t think you were anything special either. You were nothing compared to the Goddess in front of you, that was for sure. She chuckled.

“You’re a humble one,” she mused, “How cute.” You couldn’t quite believe her words. Natasha thought you, of all people, were humble? You searched the room, looking for any kind of escape from the conversation and spotted a clock hung above the bed.

“It’s getting late,” you said, trying to hide your stutter, “I’ll sleep on the floor.” You knew it would be uncomfortable but anything was better than being next to Natasha. You’d slept in awkward places before so you’d just have to deal with it.

“No you won’t,” she said, shuffling to the other side of the bed and lifting the sheets, “There’s room for both of us, see?” The amount of room wasn’t the problem – it was the proxemics between you and the internal chaos your body was experiencing. How were you supposed to explain that to Natasha though? You noticed the moment your eyes fell on her that her autonomy wasn’t the same as yours so she wouldn’t understand your dilemma.

“Uh, okay,” you said, knowing you had no choice. You never sounded nervous or vulnerable, not even with your close family and friends. If embarrassment was a type of poison, you’d have collapsed in agony by now. You climbed into bed beside Natasha, turning your back to her. You were reminded of how small the bed was when you shifted slightly and felt her hand brush against the small of your back. You took a deep breath. You were in for a long night.

She switched off the bedside lamp and to your horror, you could hear her unbutton her jeans and discard them on the floor. It was almost as if she was doing it on purpose. You tensed your muscles, forcing yourself to stay as still as humanely possible so there was less chance of you accidentally making contact with each other again.

“That’s better,” she mumbled and you felt her leg against yours as she adjusted her position to make herself more comfortable. You didn’t know how long it took for you to fall asleep with her body so close to yours, her breath creating goosebumps along every part of your skin that it hit. Unfortunately, you found out the hard way that your head was the worst place to escape to you in your current state.

You woke up, gasping and blinded by the darkness around you. You pushed yourself up, feeling the slick on your thighs from the filthy dream you had just experienced. Natasha’s head had been buried between your thighs and you had been an absolute mess beneath her. You could honestly die from humiliation – how could your mind conjure up something so vile while you were sleeping next to her? As you were about to move off the bed and sprint into the bathroom, a light was switched on and you felt a hand tighten around your wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Natasha said, a dark rasp accompanying her words, “You are not going into the bathroom to fuck yourself again.” Your eyes widened and you felt a tide of heat rush to your cheeks. She’d heard you.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, “I shouldn’t have, it was really inappropriate of me…” She silenced you by straddling your hips, trapping you beneath her on the bed. Before you could react, you were distracted by the feeling of something hard against your stomach. You looked down to see Natasha in only her boxers, the bulge pressing against your abdomen straining in its confines. Your jaw dropped. It had never even occurred to you that there was a chance she’d want you too.

“I was going to let you make the first move,” she said, “But you took too long.” From how the other agents described you, she had been so sure your boldness and confidence would’ve caused you to spring onto her immediately. She was annoyed that she’d had to listen to you pleasure yourself in the shower without her but at the same time, Natasha loved that her presence had changed your demeanour so much.

You gulped and looked up into her eyes, seeing that her iris had shrunk into a thin line around her blown pupils. You drunk in the sight of her on top of you, placing your hands on top of her bare, supple thighs, her skin like velvet beneath you.

“Fuck,” you breathed. She tilted up your chin, running her thumb over your bottom lip, wanting a better view of you.

“Tsk tsk. Such a dirty mouth.” You knew you shouldn’t be letting her walk all over you but you were enjoying it more than you wanted to admit. She lifted herself off your body so she could move her other hand to the waistband of your trousers. She hooked a finger underneath the material, “Can I?” You nodded and she dug her nails into your chin, “I want to hear you say it.” You weren’t used to this power dynamic – you were always the more dominant one.

“Yes,” you said, “You can. Please.” She grinned at your obedience and slipped her hand into your pants, feeling you drip onto her fingertips. She groaned.

“Oh God, you’re so wet already,” she said, “I could stuff you with my cock right now if I wanted to.” She removed her hand from your underwear and brought it to your mouth, pushing her fingers past your lips. You sucked her digits hungrily, tasting yourself on your tongue. The sight only drove Natasha even crazier but she also felt a pang of envy, wishing it was her cock in your mouth instead. You felt so good around her fingers.

After pulling her digits out of your mouth, she lowered herself onto your body and she didn’t hesitate to connect her lips with yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. Her lips moulded against yours perfectly and you moved in sync with her, your kisses becoming more and more desperate. She could taste your sweetness as she kissed you and she forced herself to forget about breathing, not wanting to pull away for even a second. Her hands cupped your face and you reached up to tangle yours in her hair, her lips staining yours with garnet lust.

You pulled her even closer against your chest, your mind a buzz of her and her only. You let her tongue slide between your teeth when you felt it press against your bottom lip, making no effort to fight against it with your own. She swallowed your whines, her crotch grinding against your thigh. You had never hooked up with anyone before; you weren’t that kind of person. But you were willing to break all your rules for Natasha and give every part of you to her without hesitation.

Her mouth moved to your jawline, littering your face with kisses, her hands trailing down your arms. You shivered under her feather-light touch, gasping as her teeth sunk into your neck, intending to leave a bruise that everyone else would see. She tugged at the hem of your shirt.

“Take it off,” she said. She leaned back to give you space to pull it over your head and unhook your bra before she pounced on you like an animal. She traced her fingers over your collarbones before venturing further down to your chest, her fingers circling your nipples. You arched into her touch as she caressed your breasts, her movements sending a spark straight to your core. You reached down to cup her bulge, noticing the wet patch on her boxers but she slapped your hand away, “No touching,” she snapped.

“Please, Natasha,” you said, “I need you; it hurts.” She tutted.

“Patience,” she husked. She pulled away from you and started taking off her clothes, freeing her aching breasts before pushing down her boxers. Her erection sprang out from the material, the tip inflamed and ringed by an enraged red, pre-cum dribbling onto the sheets beneath her.

She led back onto the pillow, giving you a full view of her body and you took a moment to admire her. Everything about her was a masterpiece – her facial features, her muscles, her curves. Her crimson hair was a mess around her shoulders and the front pieces had fallen forward, framing her face, “I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours.” You shook your head.

“No, Natasha,” you pleaded, “It’ll feel so much better in my pussy, I promise…” You fell silent as her eyes burnt into you. You reluctantly crawled over to her on all fours, hesitating before wrapping your mouth around the tip. You tried to irk her, moving as slow as possible but she grabbed a hold of your head and started pushing you down on her cock.

“Suck.” You gagged around her length as she started bucking her hips upwards so she was fucking your mouth but the sound only drove her more. It didn’t take long for you to start moving your head up and down her cock without any guidance, guttural moans escaping Natasha’s mouth from the warmth and skill of your tongue, “Fuck, that shut you up.”

Tears spilt down your cheeks as she hit the back of your throat over and over again, the vibrations of your whines sending even more waves of pleasure through her body. She lifted her legs onto your shoulders so you could grab onto her thighs, spurring you on even more, “I’m so close,” she breathed. Her thrusts were messy and out of rhythm by the time she came undone, spilling her cum into your mouth. You made sure to swallow it all.

She pulled her cock out of your mouth, a mixture of cum and drool coating her length, some of it dribbling down your chin, “You did so well. Such a good slut for me.” She took a moment to catch her breath, watching with eagerness as you pulled down your trousers and your panties that were positively ruined, throwing them on the floor. There were tears of white running down your legs and your clit was visibly swollen. She smirked wickedly, “You want me that bad, huh?”

“Please, I’ve been a good girl,” you whined. You tried to reach for her again but she caught hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Lie down.” You went to lay on your back but she grabbed your shoulders, her nails indenting crescent-moons into your skin before pushing you down onto your stomach. You gasped as her hand pressed against your cunt, her fingers running through your sensitive folds. Her movements were slow and deliberate, intending to increase your need but not give in to it.

“More,” you begged as her thumb massaged your clit. The smell of sex was heavy in the air and your senses were intoxicated by the vanilla and brown sugar fragrance of her perfume. She gave your clit a sharp pinch in response to your pleas, causing you to inhale a sharp intake of breath.

“You’re insatiable,” she said, “You’re begging to be fucked by a woman you just met. Like a whore.” You started rubbing your crotch against her hand, your motions erratic and frantic.

“More, please,” you cried, your thoughts becoming incoherent as the need between your legs started to burn, “Please, Natasha.” She pushed two fingers inside of you, stretching out your entrance but making sure to avoid your g-spot.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want you inside of me,” you groaned as she added a third digit to your cunt. Natasha started to play with her breasts using her free hand; she was burning for you just as badly as you were for and the sound of your begging only worsened her desire. It took all the strength in her body to hold herself back and not ruin you right there and then. She was so glad you couldn’t see her.

“I am inside of you.” You whined.

“I want your cock. I need it inside of me, please.” She grabbed hold of your hips, smirking. As much as she enjoyed seeing you so needy for her, her patience was wearing thin.

“Then you’ll take it all.” She suddenly rammed inside you without any warning, not being able to resist you for any longer and you cried out in shock. Your initial discomfort was drowned by explosive bliss as Natasha filled you to the brim, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. She was met with no resistance as she rutted into you despite her size which stretched you out deliciously. Your pussy was so much better than she could’ve ever imagined.

She flattened herself against your back, needing to feel more of you. She grunted against your ear as her hips slammed into your ass with each powerful stroke. You were dizzy with pleasure as her speed increased, your moans intensifying as she started to pound into your sweet spot. She was older and more experienced than anyone you had been with before which was evident in how she was making you feel. Your body was coursing with more pleasure than you thought was humanely possible.

The knot in your stomach was tightening fast and the sounds of your wet cunt were echoing through the room, “Oh fuck, you’re so tight,” Natasha said, not caring about her dignity anymore, too lost in the sensation of your warmth clenching around her cock, “Tell me how you feel baby.”

“I feel so, so good,” you said, “Please, don’t stop.” You looked back at her and she tilted her head so your lips could connect for a moment before her mouth moved to your shoulder. She sucked on the soft skin there, slowing down so she could sink deeper into your cunt. She could feel your legs trembling beneath her own as you pushed back in rhythm with each of her thrusts.

“How close are you?” Natasha didn’t want to admit it but she was already teetering on the edge, struggling to hold back from how well you were taking her. You could feel her movements become sloppy as more and more of your juices gushed from your entrance.��

“So close,” you said, your walls clenching even harder around her cock. It only took a few more thrusts before you could feel gasoline flood your bloodstream, ready to be set on fire, “Natasha, f-fuck…” You didn’t even have to say it.

“Let go for me,” she commanded. You let the knot in your stomach unravel, screaming her name as all the nerves in your body were electrified, sparks of searing light shooting across your vision. No drug could replicate the state of euphoria you were both lost in as your walls were drowned by white, your cunt milking her cock dry until there wasn’t a single drop left to give. You had never experienced an orgasm so strong, so prolonged, so incredible. You expected Natasha to stop after fucking you through your high but instead, she picked up her pace again. You whimpered.

“Natasha, that’s enough…” She pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back before slipping straight back inside of you. Your eyes widened.

“What’s wrong?” she mocked, “You begged for my cock, slut. Isn’t this what you wanted?” She smirked when you didn’t give her an answer, already drowning in ecstasy again despite the building ache between your legs. You were losing your grip on reality as the new angle gave her access to more places inside of you and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you were overstimulated.

She didn’t take her eyes off you, wanting to see your reaction to everything she gave you. You were growing more sensitive by the second and you could feel her cock throbbing against your walls each time you squeezed her, drops of perspiration gleaming on every inch of your skin. You reached up to cup Natasha’s breasts, the extra layer of stimulation pushing her towards yet another climax in record time.

She started to rub your clit, hoping to speed up your release but it was becoming evident she’d have to release without you. You wrapped your legs around her waist, pulling her even closer and for a moment, she forgot your pleasure, getting too lost in her own. She tore her eyes away from you and threw her head back, panting like a dog.

“Cum inside me,” you said and at the sound of your words, she didn’t hesitate, letting her orgasm crash into her body with full force. She moaned your name between gasps as she was hit by waves of bliss that slowly decreased in intensity as the milliseconds passed, pulsing through her entire body. She finally pulled out of you and collapsed on the bed. You both gasped for breath, your thighs and the sheets beneath you stained with lust. You were glad you hadn’t climaxed this time – you didn’t think you’d have survived it.

“That was fucking incredible,” Natasha admitted, turning her head to face you. You nodded in agreement, too fucked out to form a sentence, your limbs still shaking from adrenaline.

That morning, Natasha woke you up with her cock between your legs, already hard and ready for another round. Her hands only left your body during the mission and three days later after its success, she didn’t hesitate to fuck you senseless until you passed out.

Part 2

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha romanoff smut #marvel #mcu #marvel smut #mcu x you #mcu x reader #mcu x y/n #g!p natasha romanoff #g!p natasha x reader #g!p natasha

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heart2sea · 2 months ago

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࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ do you see (him) in the back of your mind? (read on ao3)

word count: 2k

tags: fluff, angst if you squint, mentions of his myth, dragon!sylus mentions

summary: on a particular day, you kept dreaming of him. One of those dreams catches your attention—horns, tails and all, and you decide to tell him.

a/n: some practice sylus writing because he's my second fav 🖤

You kept staring at him unabashedly, entranced.

He found that behavior amusing, finding and matching your gaze with an insufferable amount of mirth in his eyes. A teasing remark, a half grin on his lips—anything to get a blush out of you. That time, however, his words turned to mist on your brain as you took him in. You knew him well; the way his eyes glimmered under the moonlight, how his lips savoured every drop of his drink, as if trying to classify each note of flavor of it, and even the way his hair moved with the cold breeze. Sometimes you’d run a gentle finger, making way through the handsome shape of his nose, only stopping when he’d let out a scoff and grab your wrist, playfully.

“What are you doing, sweetie?” He stared back, a smirk gracing his sharp features.

You blinked, resting your head on your hand. You had agreed to have dinner (breakfast, for him) on his base before heading out for one of your assignments. This particular mission required pulling an all-nighter onto the outskirts of the N109 Zone. You didn’t particularly need to convince him, he just shrugged and nodded as if you’d asked him to go get something for you at the corner store, a small, non-inconvenient errand on his criminal routine.

So you spent the entire daylight sleeping, trying to catch up on some required rest before going into battle. Sleeping during daytime usually meant naps, which is why you had a hard time staying asleep, waking up between forty minute intervals.

Each time, a stranger dream.

It had started with a regular one, just you and Sylus going auctioning. Then, fleeting dreams that resembled your first meetings, the oppressive force of the gunshot piercing his heart, his rough hand grasping your wrist like his life depended on it, forceful mannerisms that had quite actually scared you away from him, enticing you into running away and never looking back.

And finally, a dream so foreign and out of place it took you a minute to break the barrier between dreams and reality upon waking up. How imposing, how impossibly handsome; your Sylus, tall and intimidating, sporting two wonderful spires on his head, and a long, thick, slithering barbed tail from his lower back. Scales had adorned his entire body, ebony and rough, and a single ruby emanated glow and warmth from his sternum, at the rhythm of a living heartbeat. His face was covered in blood—not yours, not his—as he stared at the glowing moon in longing and awe.

And still, in this dream, his eyes turned soft at the sight of you.

You gave him a warm smile, now back to reality to the real Sylus in front of you. “I dreamed about you earlier.”

He returned the smile, a glint of something playful and kind in his crimson eyes. “Was it a good dream?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, pondering. “It was quite the sight.”

“Tell me.”

“You’d laugh.”

He shifted on his seat, putting the fork down as he took a breath. Sylus tilted his head, the smile never wiping off his face, the now dying candlelight casting a warm, soft glow around you. “Oh?”

You immediately shook your head, a slight blush adorning your cheeks, frowning. “Not like that. Ugh.” At least not this time.

The gentle sound of one of his classical vinyls cocooned the warm atmosphere of his dinner table, the melody one you had picked out a few weeks before, shopping with him. It was so effortlessly romantic, soft and tender—truth be told, so many dinners with Sylus were like that, and you started wondering how truly effortless or accidental it all was. It seemed so specifically tailored for you; the music, the special serving of food just for you, the way the moonlight would hit the table just right, the smooth silk tablecloths, the comfy cushions on the seats; it all screamed soft, soft, soft , as if he was self conscious you'd walk away again the moment you cut yourself on his edges. You'd grown to love him, gunshot powder and all, but something laid unspoken between you two. Something both of you should be aware of, but only him seemed to carry the weight of.

It stumped you.

Sylus let out a chuckle. “Well, then. I promise to be as straight faced as possible, kitten.”

“Not very comforting.”

He shrugged. “I'm simply doing my best.”

You inhaled, trying to recall more details about the dream. You grabbed a grape, placing it on your lips, letting it linger there for a moment before slowly biting down on it, staring into space. As you swallowed, you looked up briefly at the ceiling and finally spoke.

“ If you randomly woke up as an animal, real or fantastic—and don't say a crow—what animal do you think it would most likely be?”

One of his eyebrows raised in amusement, his smirk deepening. The candle was holding onto the last thread of light, the amber light surrounding the room slowly giving out. It gave the atmosphere an enigmatic mood, making the situation seem so serious it was silly. “Does that have to do with your dream?"

You rolled your eyes. “Just follow along.”

His gaze never left yours, carefully studying your expectant expression. He took out a casino chip out of his slacks and started playing with it, a fidgeting you immediately recognized as calculating and weighting every option on his mind, you realized he was holding back on answering what was truly on his head.

You looked around the room, almost awkwardly, as the silence stretched on. “Hello?”

Sylus finally let out a scoff. “I'm more interested in what you thi—”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“What? I'm telling the truth. Besides,” he leaned towards you ever-so-slightly. “I'm curious what brought this on.”

The candlelight went off completely, the only source of light being the moon gently cascading its glow on the room. You went to grab another grape, but stopped halfway through. Despite his aloof and seemingly playful behavior, you couldn't help but feel as if that question had held some unspoken weight on him.

You laid back completely on the chair, staring out at the moon. “I had a dream you were some kind of creature. Horns, tail, scales—no wings that I remember, though. It was incredibly detailed. You looked like a dragon.” You took a deep breath, and almost whispering, still daydreaming about the mental image, you spoke: “It suit you.”

He didn't reply, not immediately, the chip on his hand ceasing its movements for a moment. A brief hesitation, a glimmer of something in his eyes (melancholy? Nostalgia?) flashed, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a half smile. He put the chip down and slid it towards you, taking a deep breath, beckoning you to keep going.

“We rested in a cave. Just like now, we were staring at the moon, and your tail—” You giggled fondly. “It was wrapped around me. Not asphyxiating me, mind you, but gently. And warm. It felt so real.”

You paused, and then continued.

“I wonder if that was some sort of…past life, or something.”

The room was completely darkened, and he had moved away from the glow of the moonlight, making it difficult to figure out what he was thinking. As the silence stretched on, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious — you'd half expected him to let out one of his earthy laughs upon hearing it. How cliché, how passè, the classical bedtime story of the beauty and her beast, deeply in love in his lair, a wonderful ever after following trials of blood and fire to be together. You've been watching too many romantic movies lately, sweetie , was the reply you expected him to blurt out, and then you'd pout, and finally go out to your mission and fight wanderers until the sun rose.

But he seemed to savor the recounting of your dream, as if taking apart thread by thread the tapestry of your words. You wondered what expression he had at that moment. Maybe he was coming out with a witty retort, something you've never heard before, or maybe he was annoyed at the prospect of him being a beast in the dream (when he'd been nothing but gentle with you lately), or maybe—

He let out a gentle chuckle, forcing you out of your thoughts. You stared at him, trying to find his eyes, until you met with a slightly glowing crimson gaze in the dark. A sign of danger, a pair of red eyes in the abyss—but they held none of the teeth that would swallow you whole. Instead, it enveloped you in a warmth that reminded you of cozy winter dawns, of summer nights, of a hot cup of tea after a draining day.

How wonderful.

Sylus shifted on his seat. “Did something else happen in that dream?”

“Such as…?”

“We’ve watched one too many dramatic movies lately. Surely this one dream doesn't end in tragedy, likewise?”

You tutted, blushing, muttering. “Isn't the prospect of us cuddling under the moonlight enough for you?”

“With a monster —”

“A very handsome one.” You interjected. “And he is nothing but gentle with me.”

A pause of silence. Then, after staring deep into your eyes, as if attempting to break open your mind and peer into your jumbled thoughts, he let out a warm, almost elated laugh.

“You do…have a fascinating way to look at things.” He spoke.

As if wanting to emphasize your earlier point, you stood up from the table and carefully walked towards him, two dinner knives in hand, and positioned yourself behind him. On the other side of the room, a body length mirror stood guard to the dark outlines of your bodies contrasting in the gentle glow of the moon.

The knives reflected the silvery light almost magically as you held them up the sides of his head in a horned fashion, a playful yet tender smile adorning your lips.

“You looked something like this.” You whispered, staring into the mirror. If you squinted hard enough, his silhouette looked very similar to the Sylus that had graced your dreams. “See? It looks good. It does suit you.”

He chuckled, his voice laced with something raw and unspoken. He gently grabbed your wrist, enveloping his calloused fingers around your soft flesh, as if counting every pulse under it. His digits interlaced with yours and he maneuvered you until you were at his side—then, he slid an arm around your waist and pressed you closer to him, his face burying on your sternum, something resembling a purr coming out of his throat. It made you freeze for a single second, the movement and the warmth so eerily similar to the one provided by his tail in your dream you wondered if you'd truly been the only one to dream about it.

“No tail. Is that alright?” He muttered, his voice muffled by your shirt.

You shrugged. “Warm all the same.”

Something inside him opened at the sound of your words, and he let out a content, satisfied sigh. You could feel him smile against the fabric of your clothes, and under normal circumstances you'd tease him about it. Yet this time, he felt oddly vulnerable—like a cat bunting a beloved; it was not the time. You couldn't rob him of that.

“Let's go.” He broke the moment, pulling away. “It's getting late.”

He stood up, his arm leaving your waist—lingering for a fraction of a second, not truly wanting to pull away—and walked to the doorway with languid steps, taking his coat from the hanger.

“Does that mean I can call you that now?” You asked grabbing a last grape out of the fruitbowl.

“What was that now, kitten?”

“Dragon.” You smiled mischievously. “My dragon.”

He turned around, briefly speechless, and for a moment you feared you'd said something wrong—maybe he hated the nickname, or thought it was too silly, or preferred something else. But then his lips curved upwards, his gaze impossibly soft and cozy.

“If it's from you,” he reached for the motorcycle helmet and tossed it at you. “Any time.”

#my writing #love and deepspace #sylus #qin che #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lnds sylus #sylus fluff #i SWEAR im cooking up something for my fishys bday but i woke up in a cold sweat thinking of my beautiful dragon i couldnt help myself.

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peachdues · 11 months ago

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KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR

WIND AND MOON • Sanemi x tsuguko!Reader

A/N: or, Sanemi nearly murders Maeda to protect Reader’s honor, featuring Reader getting to wear Sanemi’s haori.

A snippet from an upcoming chapter of Wind and Moon.

CW: MDNI • light strangulation (deserved) • implied past sexual assault against Reader (not described) • implied assault of Sanemi’s mother (not described) • protective Sanemi • soft Sanemi • ust kiss already jfc • violence

Sanemi Shinazugawa was never particularly keen on visiting the Corps’ tailor. His hatred for the bespeckled seamster was no secret among the slayers, nor was his reasoning. Most of the Corps disliked Maeda — particularly those female slayers forced to endure his unwanted attentions, who, when presented with too-small and too-short garments, saw his feigned incompetence for what it was: perversion.

Sanemi, however, was the one of the only few who’d ever called him out directly for being a lecherous asshole. And he certainly was one of the only ones who Maeda genuinely feared — enough so, that he became remarkably adept at his job whenever he heard so much as a whisper of the Wind Pillar’s presence.

And yet, Sanemi knew that their previous encounter — one that ended with Maeda pissing his pants while begging for forgiveness Sanemi had been in no position to give as the female slayer he’d groped stood nearby, red faced and humiliated — didn’t seem to have inspired the tailor to make any permanent changes to his deviant habits.

So no, Sanemi was already not in the best of moods as he stalked through the hallways of the Butterfly Mansion, in search of the fitting rooms where Kocho had informed him Maeda would be fitting his new tsuguko — you — for your final uniform.

He was wryly optimistic that the lecherous tailor wouldn’t try anything knowing who you were and of your proximity to him. But still, Sanemi didn’t like that he’d left you alone with Maeda for any period of time, and he was eager to get you suited up so the two of you could return to training.

Training. Sanemi had been warned that your breathing techniques, though powerful, were about as stable as a barrel of gun powder near a lit match. He would need to prioritize your precision, your control, before moving onto anything to do with your actual movements and fighting abilities.

He scowled. It would be a long day, he knew. You had an attitude and a smart mouth he was fairly sure couldn’t be beaten out of you, and grudgingly, he thought he might have to just endure it. You’d probably spend most of your time bitching; of that he was certain. But unluckily for you, you’d been assigned to the Hashira with the least amount of sympathy when it came to training; one whose disdain for complaining was rivaled only by Iguro’s.

At least he only worked his trainees to the point of vomiting or passing out; Iguro tortured the poor bastards, and he relished doing so.

And so, Sanemi began mentally tallying up the various exercises and tasks the two of you would undertake as he rounded the last corner leading to the fitting rooms. He would start with breathing techniques, he decided as he reached for the doorknob. Breathing techniques, and then physical exercises — pushups, planks, perhaps even over a bed of tacks for motivation, and then —

All of the Wind Pillar’s internal planning ground to a halt the moment he swung the door to the dressing room open. In an instant, all thoughts of endurance and strength-enhancing regiments dissolved as Sanemi’s vision turned crimson at what lay before him.

His tsuguko; and though you’d proven yourself more than capable of testing his patience, for once, it wasn’t your smart mouth that was making him see red.

It was the sight of you, standing up on a small pedestal before a great mirror, clothed in scraps of fabric that could hardly be called a uniform as the Corp’s perverted tailor circled you like a vulture does a piece of felled prey.

He didn’t need to look at you for long before his vision tunneled in on the seamster startling back from you as though burned, his eyes wide with fear as he stared at the reddening face of the Wind Hashira behind you.

Because Sanemi didn’t have to linger; he’d seen enough to know.

Your skirt hung a solid inch shorter than even the Love Hashira’s, its hem barely extending past the tops of your thighs. Your shirt was easily two or three sizes too small, preventing you from fastening anything but the bottom two buttons.

But it wasn’t the egregiously little coverage of your uniform that loosened the lid he tried to keep on his rage. It was your face. Though your back was facing him, he could see every inch of you — exposed as you were — reflected in that great mirror.

There was a rigidity in your limbs that Sanemi clocked instantly as paralysis; and the empty, haunted look in your eyes as they fixed wide and unseeing at some distant point on the floor coupled with the way you’d hadn’t so much as flinched when the door flung open signaled to him that you were not truly present in that room at all.

You were back at your family’s estate, blood-soaked and half-dead as you were forced to endure whatever it was those bandits had take upon themselves to do.

And Sanemi disappeared from the room right along with you. In that moment, he instead saw the countless other female slayers forced to endure Maeda’s greedy, wandering fingers over the years as they stood exposed under his beady little eyes.

He saw his mother turning rigid under his father’s too heavy, too rough hands as he dragged them down her body. Ma, who would force her mouth into that distant, practiced smile she always maintained in front of her children who were too young to understand why Kyogo dragged her by arm out the back of their home as he barked at them to stay inside until she returned.

He saw you; broken and bleeding in the snow, your clothes askew, unable to be left alone even in death; used.

Red. Red. Sanemi could only see red as his feet carried him across the floor.

“M-Master Shinazugawa!” Maeda squeaked as he began trembling; loud enoufh for his voice to carry down the hall, a futile effort to alert any nearby Corps members of the rage burning in Sanemi’s eyes as the latter advanced on him. “How w-wonderful it is to see you a-gain —!”

With nothing but a faint buzzing in his ears and an anger-numbed mind, Sanemi’s hand snatched the tailor around his throat before he could think the better of it.

“I thought I made myself pretty damn clear the last time I saw your ugly mug of the need for you to keep those filthy fuckin’ hands to yourself.”

Sanemi’s voice was a barely more than a growl, low and dangerous and vicious. “And I thought I told you what would happen if I caught you makin’ a mockery out of our uniform again.”

The seamster’s cheeks were rapidly turning purple as Maeda sputtered. But Sanemi only tightened his hold around the tailor’s throat, lifting him from the ground until his toes only scraped along the floorboards.

“Y’know, I’ve had to hold my tongue for far too fuckin’ long about you.” Sanemi cocked his head in consideration. A slow, wolfish smile stretched across his mouth, all sharp teeth and a vicious promise that he could and would rip out his throat. “But you’ve got some balls for someone who’s too much of a rutting coward to fight the demons we give our lives to exterminate.”

A crowd of curious and horrified junior slayers had gathered out in the hall, nervously watching as the Wind Pillar threatened to squeeze the life out of the Corp’s sole tailor.

Behind them, you remained frozen on the pedestal, though your eyes had shifted away from the floor, focusing instead on him.

Sanemi wrenched the tailor closer until they were nearly nose-to-nose, his fingers digging harshly into the soft, fleshy portion of the tailor’s neck. “And you dare make a mockery out of our uniform? You think I’m okay that you’re putting female slayers at risk by not giving them proper protection? What sort of person does that to their comrades?”

Sanemi’s pupils shrank to pinpricks. “You’re not even fuckin’ human. You’re no better than a god damn demon.”

The muscles in the Wind Pillar’s forearm rippled as his fingers crushed around Maeda’s throat. “And we’re required to put demons outta their fuckin’ misery. So, whaddya think that means for you, shitstain?”

There was a distinct wet dripping against the floorboards as Sanemi remained there, Maeda suspended before him.

Sanemi didn’t need to look down to know what it was; its scent alone was enough of a give away.

Urine.

That feral grin of his only widened. Good, Sanemi thought savagely. The bastard should fear for his life. And who gave a shit, really, if he took out the creep right then and there. It didn’t matter that he was the only tailor in their ranks capable of manufacturing their uniforms with speed and precision. Sanemi would trade his sword in for a needle, if it meant wiping away the stain that was Maeda.

But Sanemi’s wild, murderous rage was tempered by the sudden arrival of the Insect Pillar, who had appeared in the room in a blink of an eye, her small hand wrapped harshly around Sanemi’s wrist.

Her voice was hard and severe as she ordered, “Shinazugawa, stop!”

Sanemi only snarled in response, his hand squeezing tighter and tighter. Just a little more pressure and it would be over, Maeda would never harm another woman again —

Kocho wrenched on his arm once more. While her strength wasn’t enough to force his grip to relax, it did jostle Sanemi enough that he looked away, just long enough to catch the pair of eyes that watched him closely in the mirror.

Your eyes.

Sanemi found himself unable to look away as the two of you stared at one another in the mirror’s reflection. And though that haunted look remained, there was a newfound tightness in your gaze.

Pain, he recognized. There was pain in your eyes, too. And suddenly, Sanemi became all too aware of the fact you were still exposed, only now in front of a greater number of your comrades than before.

Sanemi held your eyes for one more moment before his hand opened around Maeda’s throat.

“Pissed himself like a little bitch.” He sneered, dropping the lecherous tailor to the ground where he crumbled like a napkin.

Maeda sputtered and heaved on the floor, color rapidly returning to his face as he gasped for breath.

Sanemi only looked after him with disgust.

The Butterfly Mansion’s mistress turned sharply toward the entryway. “Away.” She ordered before she turned back. But the instant the word left her lips, the gaggle of junior Corps members who had congregated in the hallway dispersed.

Sanemi cut his eyes to the Insect Hashira and saw a cold rage simmering in her eyes. Eyes that were not looking at him, but were instead glued to the sniveling mass on the floor, whimpering into a puddle of his own urine.

“P-please, forgive me, Master Shinazugawa! I must have packed the wrong uniform — I will sew a n-new one right away —“

“Save it,” Sanemi spat. “And get the fuck outta my sight.”

Though he wanted add in a kick for good measure, Sanemi held back. He was likely in deep enough shit as it was, once word reached the Master about what he’d done. He knew better than to continue testing the Corps’ limits.

Kocho inclined her head back toward the Wind Pillar. “I will see to it that a new uniform is prepared for her immediately.”

She made to step primly over Maeda’s shuddering form, but halted.

Kocho crouched down, low. “I think we both know that you’re better off keeping this to yourself and never mentioning it again, hm?”

Maeda turned his reddened face up toward the Insect Pillar and shrank under her withering glare.

Kocho’s answering smile was nothing but poisoned honey as she dropped her eyes to the wet stain that soaked the front of Maeda’s trousers. “If you wish to hold onto what’s precious to you, that is.”

She narrowed her eyes coldly, as though squinting for something, before she rose with a faint scoff, her threat hanging over Maeda like a cloud.

The Insect Hashira turned back to Sanemi. “I trust you will see yourselves out?”

Sanemi felt a rush of gratitude toward his comrade — likely only one of two among the Pillars who wouldn’t rat him out to the Master — and curtly nodded his head.

Kocho only gave him her usual, practiced smile. “Until next time, then.”

With that, the mistress of the Butterfly Estate departed. The moment the edge of her haori flapped around the corner of the doorway, Sanemi dropped his attention down to Maeda.

“Fuck off.”

The tailor made not a peep as he scrambled to his feet and he left the dressing room without a word.

——

Finally left alone, Sanemi turned to you.

“Y/N.”

You blinked, surprised. He’d addressed you by your first name — something that, until this moment, you’d been fairly sure he hadn’t known.

You made some noise in response, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, exposed as you are.

Shinazugawa didn’t seem to mind. “Let’s go.”

While you were just as eager to get the hell out of the dressing room and away from the Butterfly Mansion, you remained rooted in place upon that platform.

Not a moment had passed since Maeda had first unveiled your new attire that you hadn’t been acutely aware of your own exposure.

You gulped and cast your eyes around the room. You found the neat pile of the clothes you’d worn for the trip here folded in the corner of the dressing area. While Shinazugawa had made a point to keep his eyes on everything but you, you couldn’t fathom having to wear the scrap of a uniform you’d been given for the entire journey back to his estate.

But nor did you want to change again; you couldn’t, not when that would require you to be left alone, a possibility that seemed nearly as daunting as having to brave the trek home in little more than a loincloth.

You agonized over your options, especially as you felt Shinazugawa’s impatience mount. You shifted anxiously from foot to foot, arms wrapped tightly around your chest in a desperate attempt to keep your breasts concealed as you struggled to make the words — any words, really, dislodge from where they’d become stuck in your throat.

Annoyed by your lack of inaction, Shinazugawa looked back into the mirror. In its reflection, you saw him open his mouth, ready to snap at you, but the moment his eyes connected with yours, it closed.

An understanding passed between you right then, as heavy the silence that hung between you.

Shinazugawa considered you for a moment before his hands went to the front folds of his haori. A strange shyness fell over you while he shrugged out of it, causing you to drop your gaze as he rounded the pedestal, haori in hand.

He shoved the ball of white fabric at you, though he kept his gaze fixed pointedly at the ground. “Here. Use this to cover up.”

Timidly, you plucked the Wind Pillar’s haori from his outstretched hand and quickly turned away.

Though it sat cropped on him, the hem of Shinazugawa’s haori extended past the laughably short one of your skirt, providing your backside with a bearable degree of coverage.

It was warm; and to your surprise, it smelled nice, a familiar, grassy sweetness washing over you as you pushed your arm through one of the holes.

Shinazugawa had turned his back to you, his hands notched firmly on his hips as he waited. You tested the reach of his haori, relieved to find that you could wrap it around your front and hold it easily in place by folding your arms across your chest.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror. The white fabric reached a good three inches down your thighs, all vulnerable areas sufficiently covered.

It would do, you decided. At least until you returned to the Wind Pillar’s estate.

“I’m ready.” You said softly after a moment. Shinazugawa only looked back at you and nodded, before the two of you quietly made your way through and out the Butterfly Estate, setting down the path that led home.

Neither of you spoke for the entire journey. Instead, you were left to stare at the broad expanse Shinazugawa’s back.

The Wind Pillar wore a slightly modified version of the Corps’ uniform, you realized. His top was sleeveless and without the presence of his haori, you saw that his biceps and shoulders were just as solid and well-defined as the rest of him.

No wonder he’d been able to lift Maeda so easily from the ground; Shinazugawa’s biceps were huge. Though, you noted with some mild interest, the skin of his arms was just as scar-specked as the rest of him.

Idly, you wondered whether the scars dotting his face and body were products of his years with the Corps — a tapestry of battles hard-won, or whether they, like yours, were part of a past he wished he could forget.

You arrived back at the Wind Pillar’s estate shortly before sunset. The moment he set foot inside the gate surrounding his manor, Shinazugawa turns to you and holds up a hand.

“Wait here.”

Without another word, he disappears inside of his manor, leaving you alone in the courtyard, slightly bemused.

The Wind Pillar returned a few moments later, a familiar, dark green fabric draped over his hand.

“Here,” he held out the material to you. “Still had one from when I was a Mizunoto. Might not fit you properly, but it’s better than nothin’.”

You accept his offering and then it over in your hands, eyes running over the crisp white destroy sewn into the back. Below the shirt is a pair of pants, in the same, dark-green tinted hue as the shirt.

“I know it doesn’t mean much,” Shinazugawa’s voice was gruff as he spoke. Curious, you lifted your eyes to find him rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “But if I’d’ve known what he was gonna pull —“

You shook your head. “Don’t. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Truthfully, you didn’t want his apologies. To apologize meant there’d been an expectation, and expectation meant there’d been some trust he’d broken. While he may have been your master — while he may have been the one whose face you could not forget from that day — nothing about either of those things meant he owed you anything.

Shinazugawa looked like he was going to argue, but he closed his mouth and turned away.

Good, you thought. At least he knew to pick his battles.

“We’ll start training once you get your uniform in.” He said after a moment, turning away to retreat into his estate. “Get settled here and once it arrives, we’ll start.”

You nod, your fingers clenching tightly around the front folds of his haori. Though you know you’re safe out here, that Shinazugawa has no interest in overstepping any of your boundaries, you still feel too exposed.

More than anything, you want to retreat to your small room at the back wing of his manor, and disappear under your covers.

The Wind Pillar seems to know, for he only gives you a curt nod, before he turns back to the great, sprawling Estate, and takes the entry stairs up two at a time.

You wait a moment before following. You’ll have to figure out how to return him his haori, you realize. Perhaps you’ll drop it off at his room later in the night, when he’s likely to be asleep, or maybe you’ll wait until breakfast —

“Y/N.”

Your foot halted mid-air as you lifted your head to him, waiting.

Shinazugawa lingered on his engawa, though he kept his back to you.

“I won’t leave you alone with another man again. That’s a promise.”

You wanted to snap at him that he shouldn’t do this — he shouldn’t create obligations that he couldn’t or wouldn’t keep. That was the only way this transaction between the two of you would work; Shinazugawa would train you and once you’d gathered enough of a grip over your own abilities, you’d fuck out of his life and pursue your own, greater ambitions.

That’s what you should say, and yet, his words strike at something soft in you. Reminds you, once again that for whatever reason, he is someone you can rely upon; someone you can trust.

The exception.

And it’s because of that, you only respond, “Thank you.”

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinazugawa #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #shinazugawa sanemi #demon slayer fanfic

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luviisabella · 11 days ago

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mind games ۶ৎBNHA UNI.AU

-> katsuki bakugou 🩷

You had him wrapped around your finger.

It started with you two being assigned the same patrol areas, at first in larger groups but eventually it was just the two of you.

He would mumble under his breath but you knew he was more than happy to be paired with you and not one of the other guys.

Per usual, you two were assigned to Shinjuku City for the night. You were surprised reading the chart because usually you had day shifts and before you could question it your thoughts were already answered.

“Mina and Kirishima called out sick, they were supposed to cover the afternoon so they gave it to us”

Bakugou came up next to you scanning the board for anything else you may have missed and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Sick ?” and deep down you knew exactly what that meant, you made a mental note to call her for details later.

—

Once it was 7pm you and Bakugou decided to start heading over. Both of you had a brief conversation with your boss, the lookout was for a guy with what sounds like an interesting quirk who’s been dealing for the LOV.

As the two of you walked down the busy streets you admired the night life. It wasn’t often you went out or saw pretty areas such as this, not unless you were assigned.

Bakugou looked over and scoffed when he saw your eyes wandering in every direction at once.

“We should get something while we’re here”

He looked over at you in surprise.

“What ? We technically don’t start until 9 and are here until 1am so we might as well look around. Maybe we’ll even find him where we least expect it”

He didn’t want to admit it, but it wasn’t a bad idea. Besides.. it meant he could spend more time with you.

You two walked into multiple stores, looking at clothes, jewelry, shoes, and even snacks.

After about an hour you both decided to sit on top of a building and just admire the view.

It was convenient you both had flight quirks, but it wasn’t uncommon to catch you two on a building like this.

If you’re being honest it also helps you scan the crowd from an unexpected distance. Easier to spot who you’re looking for.

You two were both eating mochi, yours was pink and his was orange (the irony), and as the clouds moved to reveal the moon, you couldn’t help but realize how pretty he was.

You stared at him in awe of his looks, you always knew he was good looking, but my God.

“Weird ass” despite looking down he noticed you staring

You frowned, you ignored his words, you just wanted to get a better look.. so you reached over and grabbed the side of his face to turn it towards you.

“The fuck’s your.. problem…” and while he wanted to be mad, he ended up silent.

The look you were giving him sent his heart into shock and your touch was so delicate. He’s never felt anything like that and while he might struggle to admit it, you’re the only one he’d ever let do this.

You softly smile at him, “You do have pretty eyes” and you couldn’t help but fight back a laugh when you felt his face heat up.

He moved his head back, looking back down and trying not to acknowledge what just happened. “Your hands are sticky.” they weren’t, he just didn’t know how to react, let alone say “Don’t let go”.

Despite his ‘cold’ attitude, you knew how he felt, but you were waiting for him to admit it first.

You also looked down and while admiring the view again you noticed something.

“That’s him.” pointing towards the very obvious spot, that ironically being the top of another smaller building.

You stood up and looked over at Bakugo who was already on his feet. No words were set before you both took off.

You both caught him off guard because from the looks of it he was in the midst of a drug exchange, but something didn’t feel right. You had a vague description of the guys quirk and when the villain revealed his hand that’s when you realized.

Past heroes or people that tried stopping him were either in the hospital on meds for temporary paralysis, fever, or were thankfully recovering. It wasn’t injuries, his quirk was venom. That’s why your boss told you to look out for any cuts, bruises, etc. on his body, because he’s been transferring his blood into bullets and using it on heroes.

The villain looked as if he was aiming at you but judging by the smile on his face he knew you caught on and quickly turned to Bakugou.

In a panick you immediately ran to cover him, barely making it in time before the bullet hit your upper arm.

You cursed before looking over, trying to minimize losing sight of the villain but he was already making a run for it.

“We have to-“ shit..

..his quirk. You took a weak step forward before falling to the floor.

“Y/n !” He was internally cursing himself out, by the time you figured out his quirk he did too and was reaching towards the guy before he turned to him.

Bakugou reached down to pick you up, letting your head rest on his bicep as he was talking to you. Except, his words weren’t clear, you could only hear what sounded like a faint voice.

“I can’t move” you were fighting back the pain coursing through your body. It felt like every limb was being compressed and your senses were all blocked. You couldn’t even lift your finger, slowly every muscle in your body began to go numb.

Your nervous system was slowing down.

You were going in and out of consciousness, you could see him calling for backup and when you blinked again he was now looking down at you. The same eyes you thought were so pretty moments ago now looking down at you with fear.

He held you just a little tighter, afraid if he let go you’d fall apart.

“Come on, stay with me… please.”

part two ?

made by luviisabella۶ৎ

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kitchenisking · 11 days ago

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The Key by aussiebee - (Rating: G, Words: 7,450)

Eligible bachelor Derek Hale has announced that whomever can take the key from around his dog's neck will be the person he marries. Stiles Stilinski think this is utterly ridiculous.

The Moon Gave Me Permission by Melpomene (Aconitehart) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 57,572)

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” Scott says, eyeing Stiles’ fries. “But Derek Hale is back in town. I saw him at the gas station the other day.”

This piques Stiles’ interest. Oh yes it does. Like any good true crime aficionado, Stiles has his favourite case. His pet cold case. His hometown murder. The thing he brings up when he’s tired of small talk and just wants to get real.

The Hale Family Fire and the suicide of Katherine Argent.

Stiles knows this case inside and out. He’s racked up thousands of karma points on reddit for his thoughtful analysis, his pictures of the crime scene, and of his reporting of local gossip. Beacon Hills is a small town, small enough that Stiles is the only one on the Unresolved Mysteries subreddit to have actually seen the burnt out shell in person.

He’ll tell anyone who listens what he finds fascinating about the case. Absolutely no shame. He’s read all of the articles, he’s pestered his father’s deputies for more information, and he’s read every cold case compilation book that so much as mentions it.

No one knows this case like Stiles does.

In which Derek Hale is a man with a dark past, and Stiles is completely obsessed with him.

you know you're on my mind by bibliosexual - (Rating: T, Words: 16,371)

If there’s one thing Derek’s learned in life, it’s that crushing on someone who lives on an entire other fucking continent is probably a bad idea.

An Understanding Passed In Silence by cjr - (Rating: G, Words: 4,464)

It started off as something of a joke. One moment he was talking Scott’s ear off about some homework assignment and Scott made a joke that Stiles couldn’t spend a day without talking if he tried.

A Little Less Conversation by sweetbutterbliss - (Rating: T, Words: 1,316)

From anon on tumblr "A prompt if you are interested. Derek telling Stiles to shut up, like usual, but then, to the surprise of everyone, he does. And continues to do it, never speaking in Derek's presence and asking the pack to warn him when Derek arrives. Derek then needs to find a way to get the spastic kid to START talking."

Desperate by Hedwig221b - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 12,175)

Derek understood perfectly well how young Stiles was. Just how many times did he stop himself from digging his teeth into that lovely neck to claim him?

Maybe, next time he shouldn’t.

The thought, wild and sudden, came to him, and once it did, there was nothing he could do to get rid of it. If he got Stiles pregnant, then the omega would be his. Fully his. They would be bound for life. Stiles wouldn’t refuse the mating bite, then.

Stiles was his omega. Derek would do anything to keep him.

Anything.

dashing through the snow by EvanesDust - (Rating: G, Words: 636)

…or the one where Stiles and Derek created new traditions.

Did You Really Mean It by In_Over_My_Head - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,846)

Looking around the empty loft, Derek reminded himself that he liked to be alone. It wasn’t too quiet with no one there, he repeated to himself for the hundredth time that night. The relief that flooded through him at the sound of his text message chime might have worried him if the message hadn’t been so confusing.

Stiles: you’re beautiful

Derek stared at the message for a minute not sure how to react. His heart raced, palms went a little sweaty, his breathe caught in his lungs, but that was just because he wasn’t used to hearing things like that from Stiles, right? It wasn’t a sign of any sort of emotion on his side. It couldn’t be. He’d squashed that a long time ago. This was Stiles, spastic, skinny, trip on his own shoelaces Stiles. The man that didn’t see Derek in any sort of romantic way and never had. There’s no way he really meant that, right?

5 Times Derek Experiences Sensory Overload + 1 Time Derek Experiences Sensory Joyby Warlock_Nerd - (Rating: G, Words: 5,604)

Derek is Autistic but he hasn’t told anyone in fear of not being taken seriously as an Alpha. Stiles, however, figured it out and made it his mission to help Derek not only for Derek’s Betas but for Derek to finally accept himself.

In other words, Derek has sensory issues and Stiles helps him through each one. :3

Ps - Author is Autistic and sees a lot of Autistic traits in Derek :3

Like Clockwork by quackquackcey - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 6,111)

In which Stiles meets a handsome higher-up in his company by chance one afternoon and falls for him, hard.~ 💘

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #stiles x derek #kitcheniskingficrecs

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back2bluesidex · 12 days ago

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Slippin' Under - JJK (18+) [Part 3]

Pairing: Bully!Jungkook X Fem!Reader ft. Jimin

Theme: angst, toxic workplace settings, bullying, class difference, haters to lovers au

Word count: 1k+

Summary: "You're toxic, I'm slippin' under"

Warnings: workplace bullying, insulting the reader based on her social stature, class difference, Jungkook is a shit.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (For early access)

Minors, I am not responsible for what you consume online. So, act more rationally and stay away.

A/N: here we go. also, taglist requests are closed for now.

Previous | Next [Patreon]

Sometimes you think, Park Jimin doesn’t walk, he flows.

There’s a simplicity in his presence that demands attention, that is overpowering. His easy smile, fluffy but pleasantly styled blonde hair, his full lips, his moon crescent eyes - he has the power of making people fall in love easily.

Maybe that’s a part of why you developed this teeny-tiny crush on him.

You don’t expect to see him during this hour at all - but you didn’t expect yourself to work this late either. Even though you should have been prepared and you should be grateful that Jeon Jungkook decided to make you pay for his expensive suit by making you overwork and not by docking your pay.

Jimin knocks on your desk making you tear your eyes away from the computer. Your eyes go momentarily wide as you realize it’s Park Jimin himself. You scramble to get up and bow in respect, “Mr. Park, good evening.”

Jimin chuckles sweetly, placing his hands inside his pockets. The sound makes warmth bloom inside your chest.

“Good evening, Y/N. But why are you still here? You should have left for home hours ago.” Jimin places his question.

“I need to complete reviewing these files within today… so yeah.” you reply honestly.

Jimin downcast his eyes on the pile of the files, “and when were you assigned with these?”

“After lunch today.” there is no need to hide anything, this is not your fault. Typically, by company rules, employees can not be assigned with new work post-lunch, unless absolutely urgent.

And these files - these aren’t due for next two weeks.

“These aren’t urgent, are they?” Jimin’s eyes now meet yours. There's a question and there’s also understanding in his kind, brown orbs.

“No,” you look at your hands now.

“Okay. You can leave for the night.” Jimin says with finality. You know this should be it. Technically, Jimin serves at a higher position than Jungkook. If half of the company is on Jungkook’s mother’s name, then the other half belongs to Jimin’s father.

It’s not a secret that Jimin and Jungkook are cousins. Everyone knows how their father and mother (who are cousins as well) brought up the kids together. There’s only one thing that goes beyond your understanding, that is - if Jimin and Jungkook grew up together then how can Jimin be the sweetest creature on earth and Jungkook is just the polar opposite?

Jimin snaps his fingers before your face and only then you realize you zoned out earlier.

“Y/N, you heard me?” Jimin questions, the slight hint of concern in his voice makes your heart swell.

“Yes, yes, Mr. Park. but I- this won’t take much time. I can complete these within an hour. I can go home after that.” you don’t like to admit but pissing off Jungkook anymore than you already have doesn’t seem like a good idea.

“It’s 9 at night.” Jimin’s voice turns a little authoritative now, “stop working and wait here till I come back.” he orders, you only nod.

He leaves you at your place and disappears towards Jungkook’s room.

You hear footsteps again as you are packing your things up. When you look up expecting Jimin, your eyes meet with Jungkook’s first.

As always, his eyes bear more disgust than your entire body can gather.

“Y/N” Jimin calls your name, you divert your attention to him, “Jungkook will drop you home.”

What? What? Your throat constricts before you can protest. Jungkook continues to glare at you.

“I- Mr. Park, I don’t need a ride. Buses and the subway run till midnight. I can manage on my own.” you manage to say when the initial shock is over.

“Jungkookie mistook these files as urgent. He should have checked thoroughly before making you work overtime. It’s his fault, so he should be the one to take the responsibility.” Jimin defends his brother with a smile. You very well know that Jungkook didn’t make any mistake - it was very much intentional but there’s no point in saying anything now.

“Mr. Park, that’s alright. I can-” you try your hardest to get out of the situation. There’s no way you would like to spend an additional thirty minutes near Jeon Jungkook’s vicinity, that too, inside the confinement of his car.

But Jungkook cuts you off.

“Let’s go, it’s getting late.” his words slip out of his mouth casually, but you can feel the hint of anger lingering in those.

“That’s fixed then. Good night to both of you.” Jimin claps his hands together. For a moment you feel like he is celebrating your certain demise. If you come out of this car ride in one piece, that’s going to be astonishing indeed.

“I can’t believe, I am giving you a ride.” Jungkook’s voice pierce through the silent, stale air of the parking lot.

The heels of his expensive shoes clink against the cemented floor - you follow him closely behind.

“Mr. Jeon, you can drop me at the nearest subway station.” you suggest.

Jungkook stops in his tracks.

“Why? Want me to get scolded again?” he turns to face you, “you bitched about me, didn’t you?”

“I only answered the questions he asked.” you reply.

Jungkook takes two dangerous steps towards you, “you- don’t try to outsmart me. Just because you have hyung’s preference, I am not going to hate you any less.”

You don’t reply. There’s nothing to reply.

Fortunately enough, the car ride is silent and peaceful.

There are only a handful of times when you have had the opportunity of sitting in a private car but anything you have ever rode, don’t come near to the experience that Jungkook’s car brings to you.

The car is spacious, there are a thousand different controls on the dash, the small screen shows your address, the seat feels way too comfortable under your back and butt. You feel like you could sleep here for hours.

No matter how much you try to stay awake. The soft humming of the engine lulls you to sleep.

Sounds of loud car horns bring consciousness back to you.

The first thing you see is Jungkook’s face with a lewd smirk painted on it.

“I bet you never rode this kind of car in your entire life. It’s more comfortable than your bedroom isn’t it?” he throws one of his usual insults towards you, but you don’t feel bad. Mostly because there’s nothing wrong in his statements.

You sigh, a sad smile stretches on your face, “You are right. Your car is definitely more comfortable than the room I share with my parents. Thanks for the ride. This is probably the best I have slept in a while.”

You expect Jungkook to laugh loudly, laugh at your misery, at how different you are from him. But nothing returns other than silence.

When you pull your eyes up, you see him staring at you - the usual heat of anger and hatred missing this time.

“And you are okay with it? Okay with not being able to afford what others can?” he questions, inquisitiveness clear in his voice.

“All of us lack something. I am okay with lacking social status, money or that affordability. I can always work to build it on my own. I have a family, both of my parents are in good health. And I think that’s enough to be grateful for.” you grab your bag, “thanks for the ride, Mr. Jeon.” clicking the door open, you shut it behind. Only to find your mother standing out of the broken gate of your home.

“Ddal, whose car is this?” she asks. It fills you with dread. Jungkook can insult you as much as he wants, but not your parents.

Your mother’s sweater has several holes in it, her dress bears a big black spot from her work at the factory. You can’t let him see her like this. You can’t-

“Eomma-” your voice gets cut with a loud thud of the car door being closed.

“Eomonim” Jungkook walks from the other side of the car and comes to stand right beside you. There’s no mockery in his clear voice.

He bows in half in greeting.

“I am Y/N’s colleague at work. My name is Jeon Jungkook..” when he straightens up, you see him grinning wide.

Your breath stops.

Is it- is it really the Jungkook you know?

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#bts angst #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #bts x you #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts #bts oneshot

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 2 years ago

Note

Could you write Remus being in a bad mood before the full moon and snapping at everyone, but gets all soft when gf reader is near

thanks for requesting! hope you like it!

pairing: Remus x reader

description: Remus is irritable before the full moon, his senses heightened and his temper short… but one person soothes him even when the rest of the world is anything but soothing.

tags: fluffy fluff, established relationship, gn, wolfstar if you squint, (can you tell how much i love sirius even when i’m not writing a sirius fic? oops)

word count: 1.4k

In the quiet, calm common room, where various groups of students sat lounging or studying, where the crackling fire filled the room with a glowing warmth, Remus Lupin sat with his mind in a frenzy, his emotions on a rollercoaster, his body simultaneously restless and aching. It was the night before the full moon, and in a lifelong string of bad ones, this one was particularly bad. His skin felt electric, his mood even more so.

He was planning to retire to his dorm room as soon as — and he meant as fucking soon as — the assignment sprawled on the table in front of him was finished. It was a partnered project. And it was due tomorrow. James — unlucky enough to be his partner — sat on the floor on the other side of the table, sick of the homework and even more sick of his best mate. His best mate whom he loved… his best mate who’d always be there for him… he kept reminding himself when all he could notice was his best mate who snapped at him every three seconds… his best mate who kept losing his place in the project, prolonging the miserable experience each time.

“I think if we just add the bit here about defensive spells at the end, it should be good enough,” he suggests in desperation. “Didn’t we already go over that part?” Remus shoots. “I know ‘good enough’ is perfectly acceptable when you partner with Padfoot, but I’d rather not let one stupid assignment tank the marks I’ve been working for all bloody term.”

“I’m sitting right here, Moony,” Sirius says from beside him without even looking over, used to Remus’s meanness the days before the transformation.

“Yes, the constant distractions to James’s already fickle attention span are reminder enough of that, thanks.”

“Bloody hell you’re bitchy, Moony,” James defends himself, starting to seriously lose his patience. “You’re the one who keeps getting all jittery and losing his place, mate! We’d’ve finished an hour ago otherwise!”

“I —” Remus starts but doesn’t continue, running his hands through his hair in frustration. After a second, a group of first year girls in a nearby corner starts giddily screaming and laughing, and Remus visibly flinches then looks at them murderously. “Fucking hell, have they never heard of ‘inside voices’? Nothing they could’ve just said could possibly that exciting.”

“Alright, moody,” Sirius, more adept at dealing with Remus’s moods than James, finally turns to him. “How about you stop staring daggers at the happy children and focus on your shit so you two can finally finish?” “But they’re so bloody loud,” Remus complains, his senses on overdrive driving him mad. He rolls his eyes at them, and when they let out another fit of loud giggling, his expression suggests he’s considering going over to ask them —politely, he surely thinks — to keep it down. Sirius chuckles but smacks Remus with a cushion to distract him before he inadvertently makes a group of little girls cry. Better Remus takes it out on him and James than strangers, he thinks. Remus not so gently shoves Sirius in response. “What the hell, Pads?! I feel like my skin is on fucking fire, and you, you what? want a pillow fight? Why is everyone behaving like eleven year old girls?” “Well,” Sirius responds with utter calm, “They’re acting like eleven year old girls because they are, Moons. I’m acting like an eleven year old girl because being giddy with your mates transcends age and gender, and you… well, you’re acting like an eleven year old girl because it’s your time of the month, darling.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“No, you are. But we’ll suffer you anyway, right Prongs?”

James grunts and gives a half-hearted, “yeah, yeah.” Remus rolls his eyes but cools off a bit. He goes back to the assignment for a few minutes.

“Pads, no offense, mate, but can you go sit over there?” he asks, nodding at the armchair next to the sofa.

“Rude.” “It’s just… you’re… you’re really hot,” Remus says, his voice tinged with something like embarrassment. Sirius gasps and brings his hand to his chest in mock-scandal.

“Moony! I didn’t know you felt this way about me.” He laughs. In a whisper, he jokes, “Does Y/N know?” Remus just glares at him. “Because you’re not so bad yourself, handsome.” He wriggles his eyebrows at Remus. Remus just shoves him again, this time more playfully, and Sirius gives him space. “Thanks. It’s like my senses are all ten times keener.”

After another painful while of working, Remus registers the common room door opening and closing, and a moment later loud laughter reaches his ears. James and Sirius turn to him in concern, thinking he’s going to snap again. But he doesn’t.

You and Lily, still laughing loudly together, come over to the boys. You plop down next to Remus and all but lay on top of him with an exaggerated exhale. Okay, now they’re certain he’ll snap at the contact. But he doesn’t.

“I’m soo tired,” you say. And when you notice Sirius and James’ wide eyes staring at you in horror, you add, “What?,” looking around confusedly.

Remus’s arms wrap themselves around you, he nuzzles into your jumper, breathing you in, and he says, “Godric, I’m happy to see you, love.” James and Sirius’ expressions relax, James rolling his eyes and Sirius just chuckling. You don’t even notice, your attention fully on Remus now. You wrap your arms around him in turn and start running your hand up and down his back. “You okay, Rem?” you whisper. “No,” James answers before Remus can say anything. “He’s being a complete twat.” You laugh and look down at him in your arms. “That true?” In response, he just buries his head in the crook of your neck, hiding. You feel him give an affirmative “hmm.” You turn back to your other friends, saying, “Well, lads, I’m sure he’s very sorry.” “Yeah, yeah,” says James with a scowl that looks suspiciously like suppressed laughter. Sirius gathers their stuff and, pulling James off the floor, says, “Let’s give the lovebirds some space. You can finish this in the morning.”

It’s just you and Remus on the sofa now, cuddling in the quiet, one of your hands soothingly scratching his scalp, the other rubbing his back.

“I have something for you,” you tell him. His eyes droopy from your ministrations, he looks up at you and quirks an eyebrow. When you scoot a bit away from him to grab your bag, he whines dramatically and pulls you back to him. “Relax, I’m right here,” you laugh, settling in again. “Here,” you say as you hand him a chocolate bar. He giggles in response. “Thanks, sweetheart. I went through the rest of my stash this weekend.” “I know,” you smirk at him. He nuzzles into your shoulder again. “You always take such good care of me,” he whispers, giving your shoulder a kiss. “You take care of me too, Rem. Just in different ways.” Your hand comes up to caress his cheek, and you kiss his forehead before settling yours against it.

“I love you.” A squeeze. “I love you too.” A chaste peck.

After a minute, you stop running your hands through his hair.

“Please don’t stop,” he pleads. “You have no idea what you do to me.” You cheekily quirk an eyebrow at him.

He chuckles lowly but says, “Not like that.” A beat; he smirks. “Well, like that too,” he chuckles again. “But right now I just mean you… I don’t know… you soothe me, I guess. All of me.” He looks a bit more serious now. “James wasn’t wrong. I’ll apologize later. But it’s been driving me absolutely mad all day.” He sighs, and you know he means the upcoming transformation. “But when I’m with you, it’s like the world slows down to normal again. Better than normal, actually, since you’re with me.” He gives you an adoring smile, holding your hand and drawing circles on the back of it. “You soothe all my senses, Y/N.” He kisses the back of your hand. “And my soul,” he adds.

“Remus,” you whine lovingly. “Stop. You’re going to make me cry. And I can never say such beautiful things to you.” “You don’t have to say anything,” he says genuinely. “Just be with me.” He pulls you closer again, and you continue your comforting gestures.

“That I can do,” you say, and he smiles with all the warmth you feel, gives you a lingering kiss, and settles back into your arms.

#remus lupin #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus x you #remus fluff #sirius black #james potter #remus x sirius #wolfstar #marauders #marauder x reader #marauders fluff #marauders fanfic #fluff #established relationship

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mamalunawolf · 2 months ago

Text

Theseus Scamander - Oh The Saint That You Are

A mature content- NO YOUNG ONES ALLOWED. 🔞

Based of a certain someone. 🌽 links provided will be colored and added. Viewer discretion is advised. Spoilers for some.

This has videos in them. Watch at your discretion. Away from others. Please make sure you have twitter or x.

This one is for you baby girl @rypnami

Theseus

After the fall of Grindlewald, Leta being gone. It took him some years to get used to the idea of being alone. You couldn’t blame him. He lost the love of his life. A woman who sacrificed herself for his safety, and for Newt. To pay for what she had done to her brother. Now, after that. He would spend time with Newt, and all the beasts he had taken care of. ALL of them. From bowtruckles, to moon calves that took up his time. And being a high trained auror, he thought he had a chance. No, wrong. Bruises and cuts later, Newt retired Theseus. A shock, to fire his “own brother.”

That’s when you came along. That big bright smile and a smug grin. You were assigned to his department, to work alongside him. BUT BOY! He could not keep his eyes off you. You were great. More than great. The moment he saw you put down a wizard for trying to harm a muggle. Spewing nonsense about your blood purity. He had it coming. His head was to the ground and your knee planted into the back of his neck. Theseus had to bite his tongue from doing anything rash. After all, he was a nice guy. The leader of the auror department.

He saw you enter Hogwarts when he finally had the ability to speak to you. You had come on behalf of Dumbledore. Newt was even present. You entered the grounds of the quidditch pitch. Of course, Theseus was nervously smiling at you like a fool. He even thought he could lean on a broom from one of the players. Not being used at the time, and now served as a rest for him. To pose proper and charm you with his natural good looks. That is, a whistle called out and the poor man had the broom swept from under him. Careless mistake on his part to do, but now he was on the ground. While Newt got to laugh. “Not me this time, brother.”Oh shut it, will you?” Theseus knew that moment, he was as smitten as the day you arrived.

Months later, he had the courage to court you and take you on dates. Picnics, and even the best teas around Hogsmeade. But you didn’t want tea. You had butterbeer. A warm mug of it, three pints and you were enjoying yourself around him. And the many intimate moments with him. You KNEW Theseus was a switch. He loved it when you tied his hands around his back. Sitting oh so nicely in his office chair at home. Meeting him, you wouldn’t peg the guy to be that way. No, sir. A whimpering mess, as you stroked his erection in your hand. Slick with your saliva. Begging on good graces to fuck you raw into your heat. Grinding on him without a mere thought made him want to ravish you, but as a good auror. He allowed you the satisfaction. Even coming all over himself and on your hands. On most days, he would let you make him tea. A nice cuppa for a relaxing evening home. But no, he didn’t want the tea. He wanted to be on his knees, licking and lapping at your folds. Sucking on clit, while you moaned. Your hands in his hair, while he ate you out. But when he wasn’t a complete submissive to your every beck and call. He was so into you. And he didn’t like to share. Hell, he didn’t even like sharing the toys Mrs. Scamander would give to the boys. One night, after a rough day at work. He thought it would be wise to take you to Hogs head for fire whiskey or butterbeer since The Three Broomsticks was too full of students and other occupants. A couple of the wizards had a keen look on you. To watch you talk and move around. He saw that. So he took you home early, telling you what he saw. You laughed at him for being jealous. “I am not jealous.” Hands on his hips, as he stood there in only his dress shirt and trousers. You poked fun at him for it. You were sadly mistaken. He had you pinned to the bed. He enchanted your wrists to be tied above your head. Both of his hands held your hips up. Thrusting his cock in and out of your cunt. Watching your juices drip out of your heat. He loved your moans, pathetic as they sounded. He turned you over after pounding into you. Letting his cock rub against your folds before going in again. He went to your ear, “am I wrong for being jealous. To not share…” a hard thrust, “What is mine..? Sweetheart. Who do you belong to?” You were a whimpering mess. “Yours.” Saying his name as a worshipping figure to a god. He let his lips kiss along your back. Driving himself into a climax, filling you up with his seed. He chuckled at you, with an exhausted breath and pulled away from you. Watching your legs tremble on your shared bed. After that day, you would purposefully let men stare at you. Because he IS Theseus Scamander.

#theseus scamander #scamander brothers #fantastic beasts #crimes of grindelwald #Theseus Scamander plinks #p links #smut #Harry Potter smut #spicy section #switch Theseus #oh boy here we go

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ayyy-pee · 3 months ago

Note

mmmmokay can i request maybe a hashira!reader x sanemi where during the hashira meeting with lady amane following the swordsmith village arc, reader also takes her leave with tomioka and sanemi is piiiissssed and confronts her about it at her estate afterward (obv angrily). but then eventually she breaks and tells him that she wants to give him the future he deserves, to live happily married together with as many children as he wants (…perhaps… she could already be pregananant?). but she can’t bear the thought of leaving a child orphaned if they both manifest the curse mark (im sure he understands)

thanks love <3 ur my fav btw

hello nonnie!! am i barely answering your October request now in February? yes! somethings don't change sldkfjsdk. i hope you enjoy it because i love sanemi so much and could totally see him itching to kill somebody over you until he gets THE NEWSSS ohhhh. SANEMI CALL ME PLEASEEEE MY PHONE NUMBER IS 1-888-FCK-MEEE!!!

anyway - here it is

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Sanemi Shinazugawa x Female Reader

Summary: With the imminent threat of Muzan approaching, the Hashira are given their new assignments. And Sanemi is none too happy about yours.

A/N: nothing crazy going on here tbh. just some jealous lovesick sanemi. i didn't proofread because i'm lazy lmfaooooo

There’s a rage simmering in Sanemi’s chest, hot and threatening to boil over at any moment if he doesn’t find a way to calm down and quickly. Even with anger being Sanemi’s baseline emotion most days, he’s not sure he’s ever felt this incensed in his life. And try as he might, he just can’t seem to quell it.

The root cause shouldn’t be as big of a deal as it is, and yet it feels like it’s the end of the world. Like his world has just shifted and he has no control over what may happen next.

And it’s been this way since the Hashira gathering with the Mast- …Lady Amane, where he’d received probably the worst orders of his life. Since then, it’s taken everything in Sanemi to not blow the roof off of every single building on the estate.

“You’ll be dispatched to your assigned territories in pairs,” Lady Amane had spoken earlier in the evening. “This is for not only the protection of Nezuko, but for your own safety. Muzan is likely to go to extreme measures to get to the demon who has now conquered the sun. We have a better chance of success defeating Upper Moons if you are together.”

Sanemi disagreed. He didn’t need to be paired with anyone in order to do his job. He was a Hashira for fucks sake! If anything, they’d just be in his way. Why did he need to be paired with another Hashira on the off chance they ran until an Upper Moon? An insult, but if the Master deemed it necessary, there could be no argument.

“Understood,” Himejima spoke on everyone’s behalf. “Who is to be paired with whom, Lady Amane?”

“Please understand that these pairings are not given based on strength,” the small black-haired child beside Lady Amane began. “Shinobu will remain on estate grounds. Her tasks lie outside of combat.”

From Sanemi’s peripheral, he sees Shinobu nod.

“Himejima will also remain at the estate, tasked with guarding the Master’s quarters.”

The soft rattle of Himejima’s prayer beads sound throughout the space. And Sanemi imagines he must feel honored to be given such a heavy order. He’s jealous, but the idea of an Upper Moon coming from the depths to try and make their way to the Master, only to be met with Sanemi’s blade thrills him in ways he’s can’t explain.

“Now, to the pairings,” the child continues. “Muichiro and Shinazugawa.”

Sanemi and the child prodigy. He supposes he can’t be too upset, though Muichiro wouldn’t have been his preferred choice. The kid is strong, probably stronger than him, though Sanemi will never admit that aloud. No, he’s not mad at this pairing at all.

“Mitsuri and Obanai.”

The two share exchanged looks, Mitsuri red-faced, Obanai slinking further behind his mask if possible. Sanemi tries not to laugh. He’s certain Obanai is reeling from being paired up with the woman of his dreams. Once this meeting is over, he’ll have to give him all kinds of shit.

But now, Sanemi realizes with hardly concealed dread, that that leaves one particular dick head –

“Giyuu and –”

You.

The woman of Sanemi’s dreams.

Now that is a pairing that Sanemi can be mad about. His eyes cut sharply across the room, where you sit stiffly behind Muichiro, hands curled into fists on your thighs. You and Tomioka? Paired to be stationed somewhere far, far away from here? Together? Alone?

Tomioka, who Sanemi is 99.999% certain has feelings for you. Tomioka, who deems himself “not like the rest of them”, like he’s above you all somehow. Tomioka, despite not bothering to speak to any of the other Hashira, found himself to be rather close with you. Even with Sanemi’s clearly voiced disdain for him, you remain friends. Tomioka, who makes Sanemi’s anger intensify when he sees him glance over to you discreetly, and you glance back and fucking smile at him!

It’s small. So tiny, that if Sanemi wasn’t already so well-versed in every little mannerism you possess, he’d for sure have missed it.

But unfortunately for you and Tomioka, Sanemi is well-versed in every little mannerism you possess, every move, and every single sound you’re capable of making. He knows you in ways Tomioka fucking wishes he could know you. In ways that Tomioka will never fucking know you if Sanemi has any say in it.

But so much can happen in such a short time. Who’s to say that you won’t find yourself falling for the Water Hashira in an unlikely way? The same unlikely way you found yourself falling for the Wind Hashira, and him for you. It’s enough to make Sanemi’s entire body tense.

Violet eyes pierce repeatedly into the back of the Water Hashira’s head, Sanemi wishing he’d fall dead in front of his eyes, and stop fucking staring at you. His mind races with a million different ways to kill Tomioka. The thoughts are fleeting, really so brief, the temptation to lunge for Mitsuri’s sword and wrap it around Tomioka’s neck, ending Sanemi’s misery right then and there. But would it be worth all the trouble?

Unlikely…

Which is why Sanemi instead settles for staring hard daggers into the side of your skull. Poking and prodding, hoping you feel the immense weight of his gaze and stop looking at goddamned Tomioka and look at him!

“Look at me!” Sanemi screams internally. “Turn. Just turn this way! Turn your head and look over here! Stop fucking smiling at him! LOOK AT ME!!”

You don’t look at him, though, don’t dare meet his gaze.

And that has Sanemi seething.

But he doesn’t have time to dwell, because Lady Amane speaks and her tone demands everyone’s attention.

“Muichiro, Sanemi. You will leave in three days’ time. Mitsuri and Obanai. You will leave in two days’ time.”

A staggered dispatching of the Hashira. Sanemi has a bad feeling about this.

“Tomioka and ___. You will leave tonight.”

This just keeps getting worse.

Sanemi’s been glued to his spot among the Hashira since, sitting with his legs folded, eyes closed and arms crossed for ages in an attempt to meditate and shove the fury down as deep as it can go until it’s no longer affecting him. It’s pointless, it seems. Even the darkness he’s staring into behind his eyelids is starting to piss him off.

The reasonable part of Sanemi is telling him that there’s no reason to be upset. This is work! It’s not like you requested this partnership. It’s not as though you asked the Master if you and Tomioka could go on this mission together for God knows how long, doing God knows what in your down time together. It’s work for God’s sakes! You’re not running off to the beach and frollicking through the market with your fingers laced together. You’ll be potentially fighting for your fucking lives out there.

That’s it. Work. Nothing more.

But the unreasonable part of Sanemi is telling him he has every right to be pissed! He’s observed Tomioka’s behavior around you – annoyingly desperate for your attention, quickly yearning from across the room. It’s pathetic. Worse, Sanemi’s observed your behavior around Tomioka as well. Far too kind, far too friendly for Sanemi’s liking. And you know how he feels!

Even with your reassurance that you harbor no romantic feelings for Tomioka, Sanemi just cannot stand the thought of you two traveling shoulder to shoulder together. It can’t happen!

Riding the train and sitting beside each other while you take in and discuss the beautiful views? Unacceptable!

Sharing meals together, waking up and greeting each other first thing in the morning. Telling each other goodnight before climbing into bed?

Sanemi wants to rip his hair straight from his scalp at the thought of how domestic it all seems.

His reasonable side calls to him again, tries to calm him.

‘They’ll be far too busy patrolling for demons and potentially fighting Upper Moons to care about any of that.’

And somehow, that makes it all worse for him.

Sanemi would love nothing more than to lay down his life in front of you, for you if needed while facing an Upper Moon. He’d relish in standing back-to-back with you while raising your blades and bringing them down on any demon who stands in your way – together. You and him. You and Sanemi. Not you and Tomioka Giyuu.

With a sigh, Sanemi’s eyes open. All of the Hashira remain gathered in a circle, discussing the details of today’s meeting. Himejima drones on about whatever. Who really gives a fuck? Sanemi can’t be bothered. Not when you still haven’t taken even a second to look his way.

And the rage continues to burn hot. He’s not getting any less angry.

‘Or jealous,’ his mind mocks.

The softness of the sunset peeks through the room’s windows, and it’s only a reminder that soon you’ll be on your way with Tomioka. And if things wind up going left, it could be the last time Sanemi ever sees you. It’s a thought that has Sanemi grinding his teeth, hard and loud enough that he’s grabbed Obanai’s attention, his elbow digging into Sanemi’s ribs.

The loud hiss that comes from Sanemi’s lips grabs Himejima’s attention, pausing his spiel.

“Hmm,” the monk hums. “Perhaps here is a fine place to stop. We will resume discussions at the next meeting.”

The Hashira stand, and Sanemi watches as each pairing finds each other. He’s grateful that Muichiro isn’t the small talk type because he simply murmurs that he will meet Sanemi at the destination and takes his leave. Obanai has found Mitsuri and he lets her do what she does best – talk his ear off. Himejima and Shinobu are both speaking quietly away from the rest of the group.

And you…Sanemi’s eyes find you, staring back at him finally. Your eyes are sad, a small smile holding an apology on your lips. Is it because you’ll be gone in the morning and will likely not have a moment to see him? Maybe. But there’s something else in your gaze, though Sanemi can’t quite place it.

Then there’s Tomioka, who without fail, is heading towards you. You don’t see him, your eyes locked on to Sanemi’s. And he can’t imagine not having at least one last conversation before you go your separate ways for what could be the final time. He can’t have that.

Tomioka gets closer, and it makes Sanemi move, makes him remember that the clock is ticking. It won’t wait for him, and the more he stands here brooding, the closer you are to being out of his reach.

His feet carry him across the room, fast and long strides quickly closing the distance. Your eyes widen when you see him approaching, still not aware that Tomioka is also closing the gap, and when you finally do it’s too late.

Your name falls from Tomioka’s lips. The sound makes Sanemi’s jaw clench tight.

“I was hoping we could –”

Sanemi snatches your wrist, the yelp you let out cutting off the Water Hashira. Blue eyes take in the sight before him; you wide eyed and surprised. Sanemi, wide eyed and murderous.

“Fuck off, Tomioka,” Sanemi snarls, the venom dripping from every word. “We’re talking.”

His stupid, nonchalant demeanor drives Sanemi insane. He’s not the least bit affected by Sanemi’s tone.

“Yes, but–”

“No buts. I said fuck…” Sanemi’s voice lowers into a menacing whisper. “Off…”

You quickly shift between the two men, your hand coming up to land on Tomioka’s shoulder and Sanemi is really about ready to lose his shit. “I’ll meet you at the gates in a few hours, okay? I’ll send my crow for you.”

Tomioka’s eyes drift down to your hands where Sanemi still grips onto your wrist. Then they slide up to his face, where Sanemi’s lip curls up into a snarl. But you seem calm, unaffected even. So Tomioka simply tells you he will see you soon, and takes his leave.

The other Hashira still linger, pissing Sanemi off with their presence.

“Come with me,” he demands, and you nod.

“Not here, though.”

There’s hardly any sun left when you lead Sanemi to the small alleyway beside the building. It’s dark and quiet enough for you two to speak without interruption. Once alone, Sanemi pins your wrist to the wall, his face so close you can feel his breaths fanning against your face.

“What’s wrong with you?” He wastes no time getting to the point. “You get assigned to a mission with Tomioka and suddenly I’m invisible…”

You roll your eyes, because as always, you find him to be dramatic. And maybe he is being dramatic, but he can’t seem to find a fuck to give when you’re so close to leaving.

“Oh, so you want to be out there with Tomioka, then?”

“Sanemi…” you whisper calmly.

He shakes his head. “No, don’t Sanemiiii me. I saw you at the meeting earlier, smiling at Tomioka when you found out you’d be sent off halfway across the country to do who knows what,” Sanemi hisses. “No objections from you?”

You scoff, snatching your hand from his hold. “We’re going halfway across the country to work, Sanemi.” Your hands settle on his bare chest and Sanemi has to stop his eyes from fluttering shut. “What should I have done? Refusing Lady Amane’s orders would be the same as refusing the Masters. I am not doing that just because you’re throwing a jealous fit over Giyuu. As always.”

“I am not…” he grumbles, “throwing a fit.”

At this, you snort, and the sound makes Sanemi soften. Only by a fraction.

“I just…” He pauses, hands coming to rest on your hips and his anger melts away finally, because that’s how it always is with you. The moment he’s able to touch you, feel you the way he desires, all turmoil disappears.

“...hate Giyuu?” You finish his sentence for him, and Sanemi rolls his eyes, sighing.

“Not as much as I fucking hate you calling him by his first name like that,” he grumbles, leaning forward so that his face is nuzzled against your shoulder.

“I call everyone by their first name, you dummy.”

It’s true. But it only annoys Sanemi when it’s his name falling from your lips.

“He wants you, you know? Potential life or death mission with a beautiful woman?” His voice lowers, grip on your hips squeezing hard, but not enough to hurt. “Probably thinks this is his perfect chance to make a move, that fucker.”

You shake your head, lips pursing together. “He doesn’t. And he wouldn’t.”

“He does. And he would. I mean, I would. I did.”

“That’s different!” You chuckle softly. “Giyuu…He–” you stop yourself, hands coming up to rub at your temples. “Why am I even arguing with you about this?!”

Because Sanemi hates that you’re leaving and that you’re leaving with Tomioka! And he hates that you and Tomioka are friends, that you call him by his first name with such affection it makes Sanemi’s skin crawl. He hates that you can’t see what Sanemi does when Tomioka looks at you. And he hates the idea of you potentially coming back in love with Tomioka and tossing Sanemi aside!

It seems so stupid when he spells it out in his head like this, but it’s how he feels. He’s not going to apologize for it.

“I don’t like it,” He mutters. “He has some weird secret crush on you and I hate seeing the way he looks at you. Like if you let him, he’ll ask you to marry him on the spot.” You chuckle at this, and Sanemi’s lips turn down with a scowl. “It’s not funny! Tomioka would love nothing more than to build you a pretty little house and have babies and shit. Fucking freak probably dreams about it. I can tell because–”

Because Sanemi would love nothing more than to do those exact things.

He feels the tension radiating off of you in an instant, his eyes falling onto your hands that are now rubbing absentmindedly along his scars. There’s a strange change in your demeanor. Like you’re nervous about something. Is just the mention of marriage and a house with kids so off putting? Perhaps you’re not interested. Or maybe you are interested, and you’re interested in having that with…

With Tomioka, is what Sanemi wants to add. But he thinks it better not to when he sees the look on your face. Quiet, thoughtful, maybe even a little sad.

“Sanemi…we need to talk.”

You feel his lips against your skin, turning down into a scowl. Then he’s pulling away to look at your face. “Not loving the sound of that.”

Your eyes find his, adjusting to the slow darkness creeping into the space. It’s only for a second before you’re looking away again.

“I–” Your voice trembles. “I feel like I need to tell you something.”

Fuck.

You do want that…and with Tomioka?! He should have known. The signs were right there in front of him

“I fucking knew it…”

“Knew what?”

He chuckles, dryly and with absolutely no humor. “That you want Tomioka. Or, excuse me, Giyuu.” He spits the Water Hashira’s name out like it’s bitter. He knows he sure is. “That’s why you were so fucking smiley when you got your orders, right?”

Sanemi steps back, just out of your reach and begins pacing, truly trying not to take it upon himself to bring the Hashira count down by one. Really, who’d miss Tomioka anyway? He sure fucking wouldn’t.

“Stop, that’s not it at all!”

“Oh, then what is it?!” He barks, then inhales deeply to try and calm himself, though he knows it will be pointless. Still, he lowers his voice. “You two have been making eyes at each other all goddamn day. You couldn’t even look at me after you got your orders.” He stares you down now, feet rooted in place.

“I’m trying to tell you that–”

“That you’re done with this? That why Tomioka’s over there shooting you encouraging smiles? Rushing over to you after the meeting?”

“No, he’s–”

“Because you need the pep talk to give you the courage to break this off, huh? Didn’t expect such a cowardly move from you.”

Sanemi can’t see it, but your hands ball into fists at your side, about two seconds from strangling him.

“Sanemi…” Your tone is a warning that he chooses to ignore.

“Oh, I bet you can’t fucking wait to run off into the sunset with that fucking wet rag.”

“I’m trying to –”

“And Tomioka, oh I just know he’s at home packing and imagining this amazing future you two are obviously planning to build together. It’s so –”

“Will you shut up?!” Your voice screeches, cutting through Sanemi’s rant like a sharp blade. “For the love of God! I’m trying to tell you that I was paired with Giyuu for a reason! It’s not because we’re planning to run away together. It’s not because I love him…well, I love him, but only as a friend –”

Sanemi’s lips open to speak, surely to argue about the love part but you hold up a finger and he quickly shuts his mouth. You pick up where you left off, voice shakily trying to get this out.

“The Master paired me up with Giyuu for this mission that could very well be my last because not only am I fucking terrified of what the future holds…” You inhale deeply, steeling yourself. “...but I’m also pregnant, Sanemi.”

Your wide eyes stare at him, the fear loud and clear in your dilated pupils. And his expression matches yours.

There’s silence. Long, drawn out. Loud.

What can he say? This was definitely not how he was expecting this conversation to go.

“You’re…” Sanemi’s rough voice shatters the quiet between you. His feet drag him forward, bring him closer until he’s standing chest to chest with you again.

You swallow hard, watery eyes locked onto the man before you. “...pregnant.”

He drops to his knees, not caring about the way the gravel digs painfully into his flesh, not caring how pathetic he may look to any passerby, not caring about anything except you. You and…

His strong arms loop around your waist, pulling you to him until his cheek is pressed to your belly. You can feel his breath, ragged and quick against the fabric of your uniform, and you let that be the only sound for who knows how long until Sanemi speaks again.

“You’re with child…my…child?” His head tilts back, cheek still resting against your abdomen until his eyes meet yours. And you see it.

Fear. Raw, unfiltered fear.

It’s such a strange emotion to see on the face of the Wind Hashira. Known for facing any and all challenges head on without hesitation and coming out on top, you now see a look that is unfamiliar to you. Even when it’s just the two of you, you don’t know Sanemi to fear anything. But you do what you know to do when he needs comfort. Your fingers find his hair, slipping into the surprisingly soft tresses where you comb through soothingly. His eyes drift shut and he leans into your touch.

“Yes.” It’s a whisper. So soft, you’re not sure Sanemi’s heard. But when he inhales sharply, you know he has. “That’s why I’ve been given this pairing and station.”

Sanemi shakes his head, confused. He doesn’t understand what the pairing with Tomioka has to do with anything. Just that you heading to the front lines is out of the question. He mutters your name softly, then peers up at you with pleading eyes. “You…you can’t go into battle with child.”

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want you to worry,” you answer, as though you can read his mind. Your voice trembles, and Sanemi can feel the splash of fallen tears against his cheek. Not his own.

He rises to his feet, his rough hands cupping your face and swiping away the moisture on your cheeks. Your hands hold onto his forearms, and he bends to press a soft kiss to your wrists. He sees your lip quivering, hears your quiet sniffles and his lips find yours. The kisses are feather light, but just the touch of his mouth against yours opens the floodgates, and you’re soon sobbing into Sanemi’s mouth.

He holds you while your body shakes with sobs, lets you press your hands against his chest again, dig your nails painfully into his skin until he’s gritting his teeth. Sanemi cannot imagine what you feel.

“We can speak to the Master. Or…Lady Amane,” Sanemi suggests quietly, holding you closer if possible.

“We can’t. These are orders from the Master himself.”

“He can’t do this,” he insists softly, quietly. Even he is a little afraid that someone will hear what he’s suggesting. To go against the Master…well, it’s highly frowned upon.

“He’s doing what’s right…for now. Even Giyuu is kind enough to be escorting me away from the fight that’s sure to come.” You seem to have calmed down, voice a bit steadier now as you pull away from Sanemi to peer up at him.

“I’m scared, Sanemi. I want…you. I want a life that’s not tainted by fear. And to do that, I have to fight. But if I fight and develop the mark, or if you die, we will be leaving this baby as an orphan.”

Right. A condition of the mark – certain death. One that Sanemi, under no circumstance is willing to let you or your child suffer through.

“Not to mention,” you continue. “If I die in battle in my current condition, we…” You take Sanemi’s hand in yours, press it to your belly. “We will die…”

Another scenario Sanemi is not willing to let happen.

“I want to defeat Muzan so that we can finally have peace. So that we can be together without worrying constantly over what’s lurking in the darkness. Or if our child will be able to have a normal childhood and life. I want to live with you. I want to fall asleep and wake up in your arms. I want to spend our days as a family and…” You wipe at your eyes, tears threatening to spill again. “Everything is so uncertain now and I just–”

Your words die on your tongue when Sanemi’s lips crash into yours. He kisses you hungrily, swallowing every sob and whimper you have to offer. Partly because he wants to kiss away any pain, and partly because he’s damn near ready to cry himself.

It’s not fair.

This world is not fair.

“I don’t want you to worry about this, anymore,” Sanemi orders. “Take your leave. Protect yourself.” He kisses you again, tenderly this time, though his next words don’t match his actions. “And don’t die.”

Yes, everything is uncertain right now. Yes, there’s no way to know what the future holds for either of you or your unborn child. Yes, life is terrifying. There is much to be scared about. But Sanemi knows one thing for certain.

You must live. He must live. That child must live.

And Kibutsuji Muzan…whether he knows it or not, has just had his fate sealed.

Because Sanemi will do everything in his power to make sure that by the time this child comes to be, Muzan is long dead.

240 notes · View notes

dreamingofaizawa · 8 months ago

Text

Run, Rabbit

Yan! Sosuke Aizen x Fem! Shinigami! Reader

***DDDNE - This is an 18+ fic, if you are not 18 years or older please go tf away thanks***

Warnings: Primal play(I think?), hunter/prey dynamics, noncon, mindbreak(?), dubcon, yandere Aizen, penetrative sex (p in v), edging, slight overstimulation, pussy slapping, choking, breathplay, manipulative Aizen (duh this bitch was always a manipulative bastard), a bit of thigh fucking, fingering, creampie. (I hope that's everthing o.O)

Word Count: 3.3k

Author's Note: Ohhhkayy so this just popped into my head. I don't know where this even came from but holy shit. If ya'll don't pay attention to these warnings imma come slap you in the face istg this ain't no fluff piece.

Enjoy?

This was your chance. Maybe your only chance. The door to the cell you were meant to call a room was left cracked, the fraccion that was assigned to check on you hadn’t quite closed the door shut tight enough, and the latch didn’t quite click into place. Which meant you could open it from the inside. Which meant this may be your one and only opportunity to escape Las Noches and get far from Aizen’s reach. It really didn’t matter that you could die out there to a hollow, anything was better than being trapped here at Aizen’s mercy, his plaything while his plans had a lull and he was biding his time. Your body shakes, heart pounding in your chest at the thrill of it all, the thought of getting away.

He brought you here when he’d defected, stolen you away from the Gotei 13. You were supposed to be in the squad 5 barracks, defending the Seireitei and the world of the living with the rest of your squad members and the other squads. Hell, you didn’t even know Aizen all that well, hadn’t spoken to him directly ever. What made him take you, you have no idea. But you’re here, and now is your chance to leave.

You try your best to keep your footsteps silent, creeping up to the door, slowly tugging it open. Your hand actually begins to tremble when it actually gives way, the light from the hallway pouring in through the widening gap. You’re so close…but you can’t get complacent. You still need to escape the palace. Peering out into the hallway skyrockets your blood pressure, but when there’s nobody around and no sounds coming from further down the hall, you slip right out and shut the door closed behind you, making sure it’s actually latched. Hopefully that would keep any suspicion away for a while, and you take careful consideration in hiding your spiritual pressure as best you can. Making your way through the palace is a long and confusing task, all of the hallways are identical and there’s no markings of any kind. All you have to go on is direction, but as long as the windows along the hall remain facing the moon, you should be able to get out one way or another.

Most of it is empty, which feels odd, but you push it to the back of your mind and thank whatever god was watching out for you. It’s when you find your way to a bridge that you feel anxious. If anyone were to spot you, this is where it would be. The bridge is out in the open air, the railings impossible to hide behind, and unless an observer was directly beneath you you’d have nowhere to hide. There’s no use trying to find another way, but a flash step could get you across unseen. It’s not like you can go back after coming this far. The one good thing is that it would seem this bridge goes all the way across to the outer wall, which means if you needed to, you could just blast your way through with a kido spell and flash step away into the endless desert. With a long, heavy, deep breath you steady your nerves and flash step across the bridge. There’s nobody that you can see, but that’s good. It takes about five seconds to get all the way across, even with a flash step, but you make it to the building on the other side.

The building seems small, a single staircase in the back leading down into what seems like an endless darkness. Your salvation. You’re so close to being out, but you need to hurry, you have no idea when someone might notice your absence, so with no further hesitation you sprint down into the darkness. The hallways here are different, less like the stark white monochrome of the palace, more like carved tunnels. The only other difference is that there are no windows here. This is where you’d get lost, and die, but you were ready for that part. You use the heavy spiritual pressure of all the espada that are still in the main building of Las Noches to keep you oriented. How you’d managed to escape without a single arrancar noticing, you have no idea, they were all still in the building just not where you were. Hopefully that meant they were in a meeting of some kind.

Regardless, you keep moving. You aren’t expecting to get out, but when you make it outside you think you could collapse from the sheer elation. You’re out. But now all that’s left is to get to the Menos Forest. It’s better to hide out there. You run out into the desert, searching for a crack in the earth. It isn’t hard to find one, and you dive into the darkness below. You’re shaking, the joy of escaping finally getting to you. You almost laugh as you leap through the trees, freedom making you feel light.

“You’re a little slower than you used to be.” You freeze on a branch, heart stopping in your chest, a deep fear settling in the pit of your stomach. No. No it can’t be him. Frantically, you spin, searching for the source of that damned voice. The voice of your nightmares. Nothing. Emptiness. You can’t even feel any spiritual pressure. Were you just hearing things? No, you need to run, you need to run now. You take off into a flash step, diving further down so you’re nearing the forest floor. The darkness would help conceal your position. You’re panting and sweating and your body hurts, not having run like this in a very long time, being cooped up in that cell. But you need to escape, no matter what.

“Keep running, little rabbit.” Shit. You glance over your shoulder, just in time to see a flash of white. No, he can’t be here. A branch snaps off to your left, it spooks you enough to have you veer off to the right and avoid the area. Another branch snaps behind you, and another on your right. A chill crawls up your spine when that evil, dark chuckle rings through the forest.

“Hop along, while you still can.” He’s taunting you. You gasp as the branch you step on breaks under your foot, plummeting you to the forest floor. Barely, you manage to tuck and roll and land on your feet, but your momentum is shot.

“Aw, poor rabbit. You’re done running already?” You snap your head around behind you, seeing a flash of white fabric vanish behind a tree. Immediately you take off in the opposite direction. You’re not giving up yet, if you can lose him in the brush you have a chance.

“There you go, run some more.” You catch more glimpses of white on your right, and turn on a dime. Again to your left, and again directly in front of you, and you turn tail only to see another right where you’d just come from. You stop completely, panting hard as your lungs burn. That pit of dread has settled deep in your soul, and it’s taken you far too long to realize he’s been hunting you. Like a wolf herding its prey.

“Already done running?” You whip around to see where he is, only to come up empty. You spin around what feels like a hundred times, listening to his evil laugh as it echoes through the trees. Your hands are shaking, your heart slamming against your ribcage, tears beginning to form in your eyes as your chest heaves. This can’t be happening. You were supposed to be free of him. Suddenly, in a split second, he’s in front of you, both wrists gathered in one of his enormous hands.

“What a pretty little rabbit. Too bad you couldn’t run any further, I was having fun chasing you down.” That dread has spread to your entire body, your hope dashed. You were supposed to be far away by now. You were going to escape him. The realization that you were never going to make it hits you like a zanpakuto through the heart, making you lax in his hold as you drop to your knees in front of him. The despair, the sadness, the fear. It all makes your body collapse. He follows you to the floor, crouching down and cupping your chin in his free hand, leaning in close and pressing a kiss to your lips that you don’t return. The gesture is too sweet, too gentle, for a cruel man like him. He licks his lips, tasting the salt from your tears.

“Look at you, so submissive and pliant. So unlike your usual self. Have I finally broken you?” Your vision is unfocused, all the fight having fled your body, your head spinning uncontrollably. Part of you prayed you were dead, part of you hoped this was a nightmare. Aizen’s voice slices through your consciousness.

“Look at me, rabbit.” You don’t know how you do it, but you do look right at him. Those dark eyes pierce through your soul, his eerie smirk making you tremble.

“Very good. This was fun, but it’s time for you to come home now.” You can’t find the energy to do anything but nod, acceptance consuming you. There’s no escape, not from him, not here. You’ll never get away. Your surroundings blur as Aizen picks you up and flash steps to Las Noches, a flash step so fast it only takes a few seconds to get all the way back to the palace. But you aren’t in your room anymore, no you’re in his. He lays you down on the plush bed, more than large enough to fit four of him, and his hands begin to tug at your clothing, but he pauses. He’s waiting for it, for the fight that usually comes. For the clawing and kicking and cursing. When all you do is turn your head away and tremble he reaches up and wraps a hand around your neck. The squeeze is what makes your eyes pop open, frantically looking up at his face, a small panic flooding your mind. He’s never done this before, was he going to kill you?

“I want you to look at me. I want to watch as you come undone, all because of me.” Tears form once again, falling silently down your cheeks. No, this was much worse than death.

“You look so pretty when you cry for me. Cry some more.” The hand on your throat squeezes again, your hands clawing at his as you gasp for air. You squirm beneath him, legs kicking weakly as he resumes his quest to undress you with one hand. Your clothing is torn off of you, your heaving chest exposed as he kneads one breast in his hand, your nipple pinched roughly between two fingers. You do exactly what he wants, tears streaming down your cheeks and neck while he gropes you. You hate the way your body reacts, a nasty heat pooling between your legs as your vision begins to blur. You’re granted relief then, his hand releasing your airway and you greedily gulp in much needed air.

“Good girl. So good for me, aren’t you?” His hands make themselves busy with the rest of your tattered clothing, whatever was left shredded and tossed aside and he lets his eyes drag over your naked body. It’s the first time he’s been able to really look at you like this, any time before was spent holding you down to keep you from fighting him. You just can’t find the will anymore. One hand reaches down between your thighs and the sheer embarrassment makes you clamp them shut, but it’s no use, his other hand comes to pry your legs open and he kneels between them to keep it that way, exposing you completely. He hums, dragging a finger through the wetness already leaking from your pussy.

“Your body always knew to be ready for me, it just took a little push for your mind to catch up.” Two of his fingers are plunged into you, your back arching at the immediate curl and pump of the digits. Loud squelches ring in the room, the embarrassing sounds only seem to make that heat in your stomach grow. He doesn’t waste any time, letting a third finger slip inside you and using his thumb to rub circles into your already swollen clit. You shut your eyes and cover your face, you don’t want to see the satisfaction on his face when you cum all over his fingers. Your legs shake at your slowly approaching orgasm, toes curling and legs clamping down around Aizen’s hips. You’re so close, and you hate how badly the knot in your belly wants to snap, just a little more…

You whimper when he stops moving completely, ripping his hand away from your sloppy pussy. He’s stolen your orgasm from you, your legs still trembling and his clean hand grabs your throat again.

“I said I wanted you to look at me.” When he releases you he retreats fully, stripping down to nothing. His cock is hard between his legs, long and thick and you can already feel the soreness begin to settle in. He slots his hips between your legs again, resting that thick cock right against your clit.

“Now, let’s try this again, shall we?” You don’t bother trying to answer, he’s going to do whatever he wants regardless. You’re proven right when he drags that dick of his over your wet folds, using it to stimulate your clit. It’s not enough to build your orgasm, and you’re thankful for it at least, until he grabs your legs and puts both over one shoulder, clamping your thighs shut around his length. His hips slap into the backs of your thighs, the head of his cock catching on your clit and suddenly you’re jolting with every thrust, the pressure making you leak even more onto the bed sheets. He’s left your cunt completely empty, just the stimulation on your clit making that knot tighten once again. But you won’t give him the satisfaction, even if you won’t fight him. Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to stave off your orgasm, focusing on anything to get your mind off of it. But when he slips his dick inside you and slams his hips into you, your vision goes white behind your eyelids and all you can think about is the fullness you feel. His fingers dance on your clit again, and you’re just about to fall over that edge when he pulls out completely and leaves your clit throbbing. You actually cry out this time, desperation seeping into you. You hate it.

He only chuckles down at you, pushing into your sloppy cunt once again setting a slow, deep pace. Every time he seats himself fully inside you, your eyes roll back into your skull at the pleasure. You sob when he folds your legs toward your chest, letting his weight power each thrust, hitting that little spongy spot with unmatched precision. It’s too much, the pleasure building too quickly. You need to cum, or you’ll lose your mind you’re sure. You focus all your attention on Aizen, his face concentrated but still relaxed, his smirk replaced with his lips parted ever so slightly, heavy breaths escaping as his brows pinch just the tiniest bit, The strands over his face have dampened ever so slightly, sweat beading on his forehead. In your lust filled daze, you dare to think he looks handsome like this. His eyes pierce yours, his pace picking up, filling the room with the sound of wet skin against skin. You’re at the edge again, the muscles in your legs trembling under his fingers and your own hands claw into the bed. You don’t dare look away, if this gives you the release you need you’ll stare at him as long as he wants. Almost there, you’re so close and your eyes are still locked on his.

He pulls out completely, and you cry out at the frustration. You did what he wanted! You were looking right at him.

“No, no don’t do this please I need it.” His hand is at your throat in an instant, squeezing down around it to cut off your airflow again. You’re shaking, both hands gripping his wrist in a poor attempt to get him off.

“I like it when you beg, pretty rabbit.” In one fluid motion his cock is deep inside you, his other arm wrapped around your legs thrown over one shoulder and he leans over you, folding you almost completely in half as he grinds his dick into your poor pussy. He thrusts into you hard and fast, and it’s all you can do to weakly cry out beneath the pressure of his hand as your vision blanks and you cum on his cock, your walls clamping down around him and your entire body trembling with the euphoria. Your eyes roll back in your head as he allows you to breathe again, your orgasm drawn out while he pounds into you with his full weight, stilling once he’s satisfied and unloading deep in your cunt. Chest heaving, body shaking, you’re exhausted. You can’t register what he’s saying to you until he grabs your face in one hand and squeezes hard enough to make you wince.

“Focus, there you go. Now what do you say when someone gives you something you want?” In your scattered brain, you can’t come up with the answer, so he decides he needs to motivate you. He pulls out of you and you hiss from the sensitivity, but that doesn’t compare to the sting you feel when he spreads your legs and lays a hard smack on your pussy. It makes you jump and yelp, trying to squirm away but his grip on your thigh is iron clad.

“Try again, pretty thing.” You still can’t think, every thought is tangled like a loose ball of yarn. Another slap makes your body jolt, and he twirls a finger over your clit slowly.

“You’re supposed to say ‘thank you’.” Shakily, you nod.

“Thank you, Lord Aizen.” His head tilts to the side, and he lands a harder slap on your poor, abused pussy, catching your clit this time and making you cry out, and he resumes his slow pace on the little bundle of nerves.

“And what are you thanking me for?” You’re trembling, your voice unsteady.

“Th-thank you for letting me cum, Lord Aizen.” His pace on your clit picks up, and you can’t stop yourself from cumming again, tears streaming down your face as your back arches painfully off the bed. He doesn’t let up until you’re squirming away from his fingers, lightly tapping on your clit to make you jump. You know what he wants, whispering the words between heavy breaths.

“Thank you…thank you Lord Aizen…for making me cum.” His laugh is mean and dark, and he moves so he’s beside you on the bed, lying on his side and propping himself up on one arm. He kisses you, deep and slow, and you let your jaw drop and his tongue invades your mouth. His free hand grips your throat again, no pressure, just the threat of it lying there. It’s dominating. You can’t find it in your muddled mind to care. When he’s done claiming you, he leans away and your unfocused eyes can just barely register his expectant gaze.

“Thank you for making me feel good.” You whisper, body still trembling.

“You’re mine.” He waits a beat, gently tightens his grip on your throat and releases.

“I’m yours.” You breathe, your eyes only focused on him. All on him. You belong to him. He smirks, satisfied, and he tugs your body so you’re laying on top of him, head tucked into his neck and breathing in his scent. There was a part of you that protested, but you can’t hear it anymore.

#bleach smut #bleach x reader #sosuke aizen #aizen sosuke x reader #aizen sosuke smut #sosuke aizen x reader #aizen sosuke #aizen smut #bleach aizen

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bandgie · 8 months ago

Text

Only if You Say Yes | Armageddon Event

Request: Pride | Park Sunghoon (ENHA) by anon song!

warnings! MDNI18+, fem!reader, college au, jealousy (mutual), hurt/comfort, fwb→lover/exes→lovers (depends how you look at it), alcohol mentions (no one is drunk) reader makes out with Jake, sunghoon is a bit of an asshole and controlling lol, PIV, no protection, failed pull-out method, make-up sex, semi-dom reader, cowgirl, brief fingering

notes! I kinda went off im sorry. trying out the angst I guess. last rec of the event!! (thank god)

5.4k words

It doesn’t bother you at all. Not how her hands caress his shoulders and pull him closer. Not how he leans into her touch, a shit-eating grin on his lips like he knows you’re watching. Even if they’re practically glued to each other on the couch, acting as if they’re anything more than fuck buddies - it doesn’t bother you in the slightest.

The reason your chest aches and your face feels hot is because of the alcohol. Jungle juice from college parties never sits right with you. This drink isn’t an expectation, but shit, you didn’t think it’d make your heart race.

“Fucking creep.” Sunoo sneers unashamedly. “Look at Sunghoon, looking at you like that bitch isn’t sucking off his face. I hate that guy.” He looks at you, an eyebrow arched and pouty lips forming a frown. “I can’t believe you hooked up with him.”

Hooking up with him would be an understatement. Sunghoon is a good lay, a great lay if you want to be honest. He was as good with his words as he was with his dick. You knew nothing would ever blossom beyond a good fuck, but damn. Why does he have to keep eyeing you like he knows?

“It’s whatever.” You shrug, eyes moving to the sea of people in the cramped apartment. “I don’t care.”

But Sunoo knows better, the smile settling on his lips says it all. “Right. Well, I think you should get your freak on girl. You’re having dick withdrawals. It’s bad for the heart…and pussy.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes despite a grin creeping on your lips. “Oh my god. You’re stupid.” Sunoo laughs with you, his pretty eyes turning into moon crescents. It makes you feel lighter like Sunghoon’s stare is nothing more than a fly buzzing around you. “But I think I’m done with hookups for a while. I have assignments to do and shit.”

“Ugh! Babe, you’re such a stick in the mud. Just a quick little make-out never hurt anyone.” He wiggles his eyes suggestively. “Could also make a little someone jealous.”

When you roll your eyes again, it’s pure irritation. “Anywho, I wouldn’t even know who with. Unless this is your way of asking me, and if so, I accept.” You pucker your lips, closing your eyes and leaning in only to be met with the palm of Sunoo’s smooth hand.

“Ew! Bitch, be serious. You know damn well you are not my type. I’m talking about Jake!”

That makes your eyes open and tilt your head so look at your friend. “Jake? I don’t think we’re very uh…compatible.”

Sunoo��s gaze fixes behind you. His hand lowers to his side and he smirks. “Guess we’re about to find out. Hey Jake!”

Speak of the fucking devil.

He comes from behind, and the sound of his heavy shoes echo like an omen. Jake nods in acknowledgment to Sunoo, eyes bouncing between you both. “Hey. Didn’t expect to see you two here.”

The black shirt clings to him nicely, the outline of his pecs visible. He wears a silver chain around his neck that only accentuates his jawline. And when he smiles, he directs it at you. “Especially you. I thought you’d be too busy moping.”

A look of shock ripples through you. It takes a few blinks and the awkward opening and closing of your mouth before you say, “W-what? Why?”

Jake looks confused for a second. He turns to the couch at the other side of the room where Sunghoon is now squished between two girls.

You take a swig of the burning alcohol.

“Weren’t you guys dating or something?”

Sunoo snorts, quickly covering his mouth and pinching his nose. You look at him, but his eyes tell you that he hasn’t said a peep about anything. You look back to Jake. “No? Where did you hear that from?”

More confusion etches on his masculine features. “Uh…Sunghoon?”

This time, Sunoo can’t contain his laughter. His giggles cause the people around him to look, but all you can focus on is the sincerity in Jake’s words. “What?”

“Oh, fuck me.” Sunoo’s face is flushed. “I need a drink.” Before you could even hold him captive, your friend quickly weaves through the drunk swarm of bodies to leave you and Jake.

Whatever. “What do you mean he said we were dating?”

“Okay, he didn’t use that word, but pretty much. I don’t wanna say too much, but he was basically acting like you two were an item.”

You shake your head. “Bullshit. Is that why he’s about to have a threesome on the couch right now?”

Jake sighs. “Well, now it’s different. He didn’t really tell me much other than that you dumped him-”

“We weren’t even dating.”

“Fine. That you told him to buzz off and he’s just trying to find a rebound. Listen, I know you don’t believe me, but Sunghoon was really…into you. He stopped hooking up with other people when he started seeing you.”

You hate the way your heart clenches. Like him keeping it in his pants is something romantic. “I��I don’t believe you.”

Jake shrugs. “I know. Sunghoon is a bit too prideful to admit when he likes someone. Sorry you had to put up with him.”

Despite the lump in your throat, you give a weak smile. “I did it to myself. I should have known. But if you’re really sorry, you should make out with me.”

Jake laughs with nervousness. “I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

“Hardly. This tastes like shit.” You wave the cup in the air, causing the liquid to slosh inside. “I’m being serious. About kissing. I think I need a rebound too.”

Most men are put off by the idea of having seconds, but Jake isn’t most men. “But me? You know I’ve been friends with Sunghoon since high school, right?”

You nod, trying so hard to hide the smile coming on your lips.

Jake grins widely. “Oh, I get it.” He leans down, an arm propping up on the counter and tilting his head so his mouth perfectly aligns with yours. He smells expensive, like not even a drop of liquor has managed to soil his clothing. “You’re too pretty to be so cruel.” But he doesn’t kiss you, not yet.

His nose touches the tip of yours and lowers until it grazes your chin. A breath gets caught in your throat when he trails over your jawline, finding the spot beneath your ear so he can whisper. “Is he looking?”

You’re almost scared to look. Jake places his hand on your waist to give an encouraging squeeze, but to most, it seems like he’s feeling you up.

And when you find the courage to glance at Sunghoon, that’s exactly what he’s thinking now. Even from across the room, you can see his pupils blown wide. He’s stiff despite the girls chatting and kissing on his neck. They’re trying to tug him back onto the couch, their glossy lips pouting and pleading, but Sunghoon looks as though he’s about to run to you.

“Is he?” Jake’s accent snaps you back. You’re now conscious of his lips brushing your neck, how he switches from one side to the other to give the illusion of leaving you marks.

And shit, with how his fingers dig into your back, you kind of wish he would.

“Y-yeah. He looks pissed.”

You can feel how Jake’s chest rumbles with laughter, vibrating your own. He pulls away from you, but not far at all. His eyes stare into yours mischievously. You nearly forget that this is the boy who gets the best grades and is on his way to valedictorian, but being Sunghoon’s friend also means he likes to think with the head in his pants too.

“Good. Let’s give him something to get real mad at, yeah?”

And when he leans in, you welcome him. His head tilts down while your’s tilts up. His lips mold against yours roughly, shoving his tongue deep and exploring your taste.

You let out a squeak. Logically, it’s better to start hot and heavy. Make Sunghoon see how desperate you are for each other, but you yearn for the sweet kisses Sunghoon gave you. His tongue would caress your own, coaxing it into his mouth so your spit could mingle and mix, forming strings when you pulled away.

But with Jake, you let him take full reign. There was something almost…hot letting someone have control. Jake didn’t care how your teeth clashed or if drool seeped from the corner of your mouth. He licked it back in as if he expected it, putting his tongue on yours quickly.

It took a moment for you to catch up with him. To move your lips so you could catch his muscle between them and suck.

He shivered. You could tell Jake wanted to keep going with how his arms wrapped around your torso and pulled you close, but he broke away. “No wonder Sunghoon’s so fucking obsessed with you.”

Sunghoon. You turn to the side, forcing Jake to land on your cheek but he quickly recovers. You scan the couch for any sign of Sunghoon, but he’s gone. The girls who swarmed him now look dejected, their annoyance clear.

But Sunghoon, where is he? You’re distracted by Jake’s mouth leaving open kisses on your neck and throat, but even then, Sunghoon should stick out like a sore thumb.

Jake’s lips bush over a sensitive spot and you shiver. An involuntary moan escapes your swollen lips and he eagerly laps his tongue over the skin. His teeth bite hard enough to make you whine, but that’s nothing compared to the yelp Jake lets out when he’s suddenly ripped away.

The loss of his body leaves you cold but Sunghoon’s fired eyes make you hot all over again.

He has Jake by the back collar of his shirt. The knuckles on his first are white as if begging to turn pink and red from letting his anger out on Jake’s pretty face.

Sunghoon doesn’t even have to say a thing. The look he gives his friend is full of warning and Jake straightens up immediately, nodding and silently surrendering to Sunghoon’s piercing gaze.

“She’s all yours, bro.” And with that, he leaves you with a wink.

Maybe it’s because of the arousal and adrenaline coursing through your veins, but you’re not as scared as you were before. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Sunghoon takes a step closer, anger dripping off his tone. “You’re sucking on my best friend's face and I’m not supposed to say anything?”

The people around you two have moved away, a wise choice.

You cross your arms. “Obviously not. I didn’t see you having an issue when those girls were all up on you. Why is it when I do?”

Sunghoon’s face morphs into cold humor. “Oh wow. What? You wanted to make me jealous or something?”

You burn red. “I did not!”

“You so did.” It feels like a punch in the gut when he laughs. “You think I give a fuck who you wanna make out with?”

“No shit you do. You wouldn’t have pulled him off me if you didn’t.”

Sunghoon’s eyes slide to your neck, right where Jake had been sucking. You doubt it’s purple, but you can bet your money it blooms with pink. You almost want to cover it with your hand, but you rather like the way Sunghoon’s jaw ticks.

“I’m not arguing with you here.” Before you can argue that he can at all, he pulls you by the arm. He doesn’t even bother weaving through the crowd, he bustles through it. Most people move aside, but the drunks are pushed by his shoulders and left to mourn their spilled drinks.

You catch Sunoo’s eyes. He’s got a man attached to his back, grinding against him to the beat of the music, but Sunoo doesn’t sway his hips at all. There’s worry in his eyes.

You shake your head and mouth, It's fine.

It’s all you get to say before Sunghoon drags you into the nearest room and shuts the door. Neither of you knows whose pad this is, the posters on the wall say it all. But Sunghoon walks around the room like he owns it.

Cocky bastard.

“I don’t want you around him again,” Sunhoon speaks with authority. “Don’t give me that shit and say you like him. I know damn well you don’t.”

You put your weight on one hip and huff. “And if I do? What? You’re gonna forbid me from speaking to him?”

“Yes.” Sunghoon stops pacing. “I haven't seen you in a month. And when I do, you’re trying to get in my friend’s pants?” Something like hurt echoes in his eyes. “I hate that.”

Fuck, you’re shaking. Your core trembles and though you try to blame the sensation on Jake, you know it’s Sunghoon’s dominating aura making your stomach clench. “You don’t think I hated seeing you with those girls? Letting them kiss you like they…like they own you? But I didn’t go over there and start a catfight, did I? No. You did. Acting like you’re my fucking boyfriend or something.”

He’s seething, and shit, you’ve never been so fired up. Anger and arousal mix within. Slick moistens your underwear seeing Sunghoon stride to you. Your stomach dips when he backs you against the wall.

You almost moan when his jaw tenses.

“I’m trying really, really hard not to yell at you right now.” Sunghoon’s lips quiver when he takes a shaky breath. “I told you I didn't want a relationship. You said that was fine. Then all of a sudden, you start getting clingy and shit. Yeah, I think it’s cute, but then you dump me. Out of nowhere, out of the blue. So yeah, I let some chicks feel up on me to feel a little bit better about myself, and who do I get to see?” His upper lip twists into a snarl. “You.”

He’s leaned in close, neck bending and eyes boring into yours. Still, that does the opposite of intimidate you. “See? That’s the fucking issue. All you ever think about is yourself. You wanted a quick fuck. You wanted a relationship without the commitment. Did you ever think about how I felt being in this…weird fucking tango? Going to places with you, going over your apartment, telling you where I was and who I was with. But when it was me asking the questions, I was the crazy one. I was too clingy. Did you think I liked hearing that?”

The realization settles on him as if he never put himself in your shoes. It makes your chest burn with anger.

“Exactly. You’re too selfish to even think about me.”

“That’s not true.” Sunghoon is quick to shoot you down. “That’s all I ever did.” His gaze softens and his hand leaves his side. You feel the back of it graze your cheek as if you’re something gentle.

Tears sting your eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not. But I know you don’t believe me.”

You recall Jake’s words. How he claimed Sunghoon chose you to be the only person he was sleeping with. It sounded improbable, but with the way he’s looking at you now, it feels like it could be true.

“But isn’t this what you would’ve wanted anyway? You get to do whatever you want without someone in your hair. The only reason it bothers you so much is because I’m the one that broke things off. You’re stupid ego couldn’t take it.”

It rings true. You see his eyes look at the floor ashamed, and you feel your heart break a little from his lack of rebuttal.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what?” Your voice shakes. “Why are you so mad about me moving on?” A scoff breathes on your lips. “You’re acting as if you like me.”

You regret the words the moment they come out. Sunghoon’s entire face changes. Even the air in the room grows rigid, almost scared. His wide eyes tell you that you’re treading on dangerous territory.

But once the lid opens, you find yourself pouring out.

“You’ve never even said it. All this time, I was feeling like a burden. Like the thought of me other than sex was revolting to you. It sucked, but I put up with it.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Because you didn’t have to!” You yell for the first time. It sounds good to finally let your emotions show even if tears flow free. “Sunghoon, what aren’t you getting? It wasn’t just sex for me, not at the end. But you…you pushed me away.” Your throat hurts so much like it’s raw from screaming. “You made me feel like I was fucking insane.”

His face blurs, but you can make out the pain in his eyes.

“I wanna hear you say it.” You blink the tears away. “Tell me.”

But Sunghoon gulps. For the first time, this cocky asshole is stunned. You’ve seen him get his way using his charm or confidence, but right now, it looks like he’d rather claw his skin to escape.

“Jake told me. About how you ditched your hookups when we were…seeing each other.” You’re throwing Jake under the bus, but you hope he’ll understand when Sunghoon inevitably rips him a new one. “He thought we were dating. Dating, Sunghoon. You can’t tell me you only thought of us as just sex.”

Seeing him turn into a puddle makes you both anxious and assertive. It makes you want to push him to confess while running away and pretending you never even saw him tonight.

But only one of those options is possible. “Say it.”

Sunghoon’s hand trembles on your face. His mouth can’t decide whether it wants to yell or cry, but it’s silence he screams. It deafens your ears to the point that all you can hear is your heart drumming in your chest. You think you can hear his too if you try hard enough.

The thumping of the party downstairs is the only noise you can rely on.

“You fucking coward. I should have never said yes to you.”

Escaping his arms will be easy. Sunghoon seems too stunned to do anything, but you’re quickly proven wrong when he cages you in and presses his body against yours. You mean to push his chest and yell, but the sight of his watery eyes stops you.

He can’t look at you. It’ll make the dam he tried so hard to build break. But he’ll be damned if you leave again.

“I…I’ve never dealt with something like this.” He closes his eyes. “I’ve never had to worry about someone. They weren’t even in my head. But when I met you…” Sunghoon has to take a deep breath. You feel his inhale on your face as if he’s breathing you in.

“It was the first time I cared about someone other than myself. It…It scared me. I wanted you close, but not too close. I wanted everyone to see that you were mine, but that I wasn’t yours.” He laughs humorlessly. “That sounds so fucked to say out loud.”

“But that’s what I was thinking. I was so fucked. I am fucked. I was- I am selfish.”

Sunghoon leans in. You inhale a sharp breath but it’s his forehead that meets yours. His weight feels good, almost perfect against your own.

You’ve missed the warmth of his skin, the beauty mark next to his eye that you can see so clearly. But it’s his eyes that hold the stars.

“Especially now, because all I’m thinking about is how I can be yours again.”

There it is, his confession. Not that you can be his, but that he can be yours. It’s so subtle that you want to pretend it doesn’t count, but you can’t deny the way your heart flutters. How you yearn to feel his kiss again even if your lips are soaked with tears.

Sunoo’s voice rings in your head. You can perfectly hear him screaming at you to laugh. Tell him that you’re flattered, but you aren’t interested.

Hurt him how he hurt you.

But that’s not who you are. No, the person you are nods, wrapping arms around his neck and finally putting your lips where they ache to be.

It’s like they never forgot. Even in the weeks he hasn’t seen you, Sunghoon knows how to kiss you. His lips are gentle, hardly eager to taste your mouth. Jake may have known how to get the party started, but Sunghoon knows how to make you feel. It’s all too easy for him to tug at your heartstrings, making you move in any way he wants like a puppeteer.

And it seems like you can do the same.

He opens his mouth when you do. He moves his tongue in time with yours. Sunghoon lets you hold the back of his neck so you can tilt his head, getting a better angle to suck on his tongue.

He moans into your mouth. It sounds more than pleasure, but relief. As if he’s been aching for you just as you have been for him. You almost don’t want to believe it, but you pull another whine from him when you tug on his hair.

The taste of saliva and tears dance on your tastebuds. It feels oddly comforting, the raw taste of emotion and need on your lips. You kiss him deeper, harder, until his hands find your waist and he backs into the bed.

He pulls away to sit down but he’s quick to yank you onto his lap.

“Still like me on top, huh?” You can’t help but recall how Sunghoon used to constantly ask you to ride him. Facing him, reversed, it didn’t matter. He had both of his hands on you constantly, whether it was groping your breasts or ass.

He smiles, “You know I never liked doing any of the work.”

To that, you groan. Sunghoon ignores your pretend displeasure to nip at your bottom lip, pulling the skin and watching it bounce back into place.

His lips attack your neck, kissing and sucking every inch. He gently pulls on your hair to ensure no spot is left unmarked. You can’t help but notice he focuses on the spot between your shoulder and clavicle.

Right where Jake left the faintest blemish.

You want to tease him, but all you can do is moan. He knows that’s your favorite spot. It’s so easy to get you to tremble, to grind on his hips like you’re doing right now. The only issue is that someone else knows too.

It bothers him. You can tell from how hard he’s sucking. Gently, you push his shoulder until he lets up, salvia on his lips as his cloudy eyes lock with yours.

“If you’re gonna be that rough, I’d rather you do it here.” Putting your hands on the hem of your shirt, you tug it off. The material slips easily. You silently thank yourself for putting something on that wasn’t so tight.

Your bra is plain, but your breasts still look divine in them. Sunghoon doesn’t wait for you to throw your shirt on the ground to get his mouth on you. His lips are hot on your skin, his tongue even hotter. The shirt slips from your hands to pool on the floor and your fingers thread in his hair. Sunghoon takes the pulls and tugs as compliments.

His hands trail up your waist, moving away for a brief moment to spill your breasts the cups.

And his hips dig into your cunt when he sees your nipples are already peaked. You watch him lick his lips, watch how his brain can’t decide whether he wants to stare or taste.

The decision is made for him when you press against his face. Sunghoon cups the sides to push your boobs in his face, tongue lavishing your supple flesh.

“Fuck.” He doesn’t bother hiding his hips rocking into yours. He used to act like sex felt mediocre, but his raging boner gave him away every time. You thought it was funny how his uninterested eyes were completely different from the precum that slid down his cock when you stroked it, but this… this makes your stomach heat with exhilaration.

One hand remains on your breast while the other slides to your hip. He presses you down on his erection and grinds. You know he can barely feel a thing with jeans in the way, but his hot breath wafts on your nipple like he hasn’t gotten his dick touched in forever.

But you don’t dwell on it too much. It feels good just to have him suck on your bud and hit your clit. His tongue goes around your darkened flesh before he hollows his cheeks. You moan, moving at the same pace as his hips under you.

You’re so wet. The slick sticks to your underwear so much that dry-humping him doesn’t feel uncomfortable. You’ve felt chafing before, how sometimes it would just rub the wrong way. But with Sunghoon, nothing is ever the wrong way. All you can think about is how good it feels, so much so that getting up to pull his cock out seems distant.

But you’ve missed the feel of his hard-on. It rubs your pussy just right and it’s all too easy to find the angle you know would make you finish.

And when Sunghoon bites on your nipples and pulls, you know you’ll cum soon.

“Wait. Wait.” You tremble in his hold. Your voice sounds too weak. You don’t think he heard you, but you feel his mouth pull off your bud and his hips cease. It takes a moment to find your words, to ignore how your cunt screams at you from pulling away when you were so close.

“Imma cum.”

Sunghoon grins. “Is that not good?”

You shake your head, still panting. “No. Too soon. I need it inside.”

The all-too-cocky smile finds his lips. It’s the one you loathe, but with your mind hazy and cunt pulsing, you can only be glad to see it.

It means he’ll do anything he can to keep hearing you praise him.

“Yeah? Take it out for me then.” It’s almost condescending the way he speaks. You take a mental note to never feed his ego again.

But you don’t, not right away. You stand on unsteady legs instead. The shorts clinging to your legs feel uncomfortable and you sigh in relief when unbuttoning them. You don’t bother making a show getting undressed, but Sunghoon watches like it’s award-winning.

Strings of arousal cling to your underwear when you slide them off. The cool air hits your cunt unwelcomed and you let the clothes pile with your shirt.

“Fuck, baby.” He bites on his lower lip before clenching his teeth. “You look so pretty for me.”

You shyly giggle. You suppose it’s okay if he strokes your ego.

He wants you back on his lap. You can see his eyes planning all the ways he wants to ravish you, but you have other ideas in mind. “Your turn.”

Sunghoon looks confused at first, but he quickly sees what you mean. His lips twitch, almost wanting to say, I told you to take it out for me, but he doesn’t. You see him nod, shrugging his shirt over his head and wiggling out of his jeans all on his own.

Good, he’s learning.

Sitting back on his lap is a reward. Grabbing the base of his cock is a silent, appreciated gesture when you line him up.

Sunghoon finds your waist fast, unable to keep his hands off for even a second. He waits as you slap the tip on your clit. It elicits a hum from your lips and you look into his eyes in a daze. There’s need in them. His blown-wide pupils match your own.

And when you sink down, he moans.

Restless hands dig into your flesh. Sunghoon doesn’t try to set a pace at all. He lets the sounds of your bodies meeting match your tempo.

You wanted to go slow, you did. You heard his confession, you tasted his tears, so it’s obvious that you wanted to explore his body in the deepest ways he never let you.

But with the music blasting downstairs and the adrenaline of being in someone else’s room, you can’t help but lift your ass and slam it down. The head of his cock barely has time to get acquainted with your pussy. It glides all too quickly to properly bury into your cervix.

Not that you really mind. You can feel the veins and curve of his crown rub your walls this way.

He leans back, propping with one elbow while the other stays on your hip. You smile when you see him looking at your breasts. They’re love-bitten, riddled with bruises that go to your neck.

Sunghoon looks like a painter admiring his work.

“You look so fucking good.” He licks his bottom lip. “I’ve missed you.”

You burn with praise. It makes you ride faster, leaning forward so your arms cage him between them. Your hair forms a curtain around your flushed face that Sunghoon pushes away.

Maybe it’s his eyes you’re supposed to look at, but you’re captivated by his body. His defined chest twinges with pink. His stomach clenches in pleasure, the hard lines of his abs making an appearance.

You don’t know how you manage to push him down completely. Your hands pin his shoulders with ease and all he can do is helplessly grip your thighs as you ride him.

“Likewise.”

He lets out a strangled moan that you suppose is him laughing. Sunghoon furrows his eyebrows at the new angle. He’s able to hit you deeper this way, his cock buries in your cervix nicely.

But even with the sight of your pussy creaming around him and pooling on his pelvis, he can still playfully glare. “Asshole.”

You giggle like it’s a pet name. Expecting him to change overnight would be foolish. But even then, you somewhat like the arrogant fool you’ve fallen in love with.

So you say nothing in return. Instead, you lean closer. His lips are swollen and you suck on them. His tongue messily swipes in your mouth when you open it. The kiss is nothing more than a way to be closer, to moan into each other's mouth as Sunghoon finally moves his hips.

And it feels like everything on your body is on fire. Your knees were getting tired, the burn in your thighs barely tolerable. Now, all you have to do is hover while Sunghoon thrusts. It feels deeper than what’s possible. Like the pleasure travels from your cunt to your head.

The pain in your legs numb and the only thing on your mind is how good Sunghoon is fucking you. Your walls clench, oozing with so much release that you think he might slip out, but he doesn’t.

“Right there!” The sound below should drown out your cries, but you don’t care if anyone hears you. “Fuck me harder! Pleasepleaseplease…”

You don’t have to beg, but Sunghoon likes it when you do. Your cunt spasms and warms until the heat floods his cock. A drawn-out moan tumbles from your lips that he eats. You’re panting and whining while his tongue invades your mouth. Salvia drips from your chin, but you can’t even notice with how he’s still fucking into you.

And just when you feel lightheaded, he cums. It’s too late for him to pull out, too late to stroke himself on your face to completion. Still, he tries to save it.

Sunghoon slips out while still squirting from his tip. The strings shoot your inner thigh and his caving stomach.

He’s still breathing hard when he kisses you, ignoring how his chest screams for oxygen. And when he pulls away, the first thing he looks at is your cunt. Sunghoon should feel worried that half of his cum is in your womb, but when watches it drip from your swollen pussy, he feels proud.

“Yeah,” he says to himself. You feel deft fingers play with your folds soon after. Sunghoon laughs when you squeal from overstimulation, but he shoves the cum back in anyway.

You almost can’t feel his fingers. Your walls are mostly numb, but you still moan and tremble from his knuckles gliding in and out of you.

He buries his digits until all they can do is wiggle. “Keep it in. I want you to walk out of here with my cum dripping out.”

If you had more energy, you’d groan. Seems like he still has a lot to learn.

#smut #enha smut #armageddon event!#sunghoon smut #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon #enha x reader #enhypen #enhypen smut #park sunghoon #enha sunghoon smut

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catiuskaa · 1 year ago

Text

spots on.

SUMMARY: you. hannie. embraces. hugs. cuddles, and other synonyms. desperately needed by yesterday. complaints will be declined and ignored.

REQUESTED! by lovely annonie right here. and god you are so right, fluff + hannie is a clinical need, dare I say biblical! ㅠㅠ<3

CW: you might need a dentist appointment for this one. teeth rotting stuff. i assure you.

WC: 1.1k

A/N: so i’m back from the dead and haven’t written anything since february’s special and have been real low lately. thought fluffy hannie could cheer all of us up! <3

[☆🔹🫂🔹☆]

Han loved watching romantic movies by himself.

It’s not like he didn’t have anyone to watch them with. He had watched plenty of shows either with you or any of the boys.

But ever since he started writing and composing lyrics, a little before he got into college, there was something about those cheesy series that had him unable to stop watching.

His eyes would glow as he stared at the screen before him while he watched, invested in how the protagonist accidentally tripped and fell against the love interest, all over again. Giggling and kicking his feet when they held hands after hours upon hours straight of watching them bicker. Having his chest tightening because the actors were so good that he could almost feel the stars in his eyes, shining just for her.

Jisung loved those old-fashioned scenes. Dancing in the rain, a silly meet cute in a book shop… countless places for one silly little emotion.

Han couldn’t see it, but he also had stars in his eyes. He blinked, feeling his eyes lightly itchy, realizing he had been watching you sleep.

Not in a creepy way, of course. After all, you had wanted to stay over to finish one of the many assignments you two had to do together for some of the mandatory subjects in both of your majors. He sighed, his eyes weirdly fixated on your figure, unable to stop looking at you. Even while sleeping, there was a certain grace to you, as if you were just resting peacefully after a long day. He snorted upon realizing that your face was pressed against the pages of the book, a sneaky drop of drool coming out of your mouth. You looked so cute.

“Get a grip, Han,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head with a smile, giggling.

He rubbed his eyes, staring back to what he had been drafting the past hours. It was clearly obvious that his sleepiness was getting to him, because it was getting harder to decipher what the characters he was typing meant.

Suddenly, there was a hand lightly scratching your back.

You flinched in your place, sitting back up.

“It’s just me,” Han said softly. You blinked so slowly it almost looked like you had blinked one eyelid at a time.

“…awake. ‘M awake.” You brushed off drool from the corner of your mouth, to which Jisung chuckled lightly.

“Okay, sleepyhead. Time to go to bed.”

“Eh?”

“Bed, silly. We should have some sleep. We’re both doozing off.”

Bed? Judging by the time that the clock in Han’s apartment said, it was far from being that late, which was proved true when Hannie picked you up —God knows how, because he showed no signs of struggling— and brought the “sleepyhead” over to his room, that even after turning off the lamp on the bedside table, the windows let in light that the Sun had yet to take away while leaving space for the Moon to beam in a couple of hours.

He grunted lowly when he laid you down on the bed, which had little to do with your weight and much more with how you pulled him towards you.

“Hannie.” You mumbled sleepily.

“You’re close to cranky,” he smiled. “You haven’t had your coffee, and you fell asleep doing our assignment.” He sighed, moving stray hairs off your face, his hand lingering on its side, stroking your cheek. “Wouldn’t want to get on your cranky side.” Jisung teased with a tenderness only showed in your presence, not in his usual teasing, not with the rest of the world. Somehow, time spent with Han seemed like the world itself stopped spinning, waiting for you two and catch up later.

“…no.” You whined. His hand still rested on your face. Unusual. You didn’t want him to move it. “I don’t want to steal your bed.”

Unconciously, you moved closer to the warmth that his palm brought.

“It’s ok. You came here walking, and there’s no way I’m letting you leave now, not at this time.”

You frowned at him, almost pouting. You purposefuly resigned to argue, sleepily accepting his win over a silly discusion you could’ve won. But it was much better if it meant that he would keep being so… tender. You two were dating, yes, but it was quite strange, because even if you both knew about each other’s feelings, staying together had been more of a silent agreement.

Yet in that moment, seeing him smile, dark boba coloured eyes sheepishly and momentarily hidden by it, turning them into happy crescent-shaped moons, it was easy to figure asking was worth a shot.

“…stay w’me?”

His heart skipped more beats than he could count.

This hadn’t been planned. Well. Certainly not this way.

“Stay?” His tone of voice had lowered.

You hummed, smiling lightly. Your hand creeped up to his, the one that rested close to your face. In a sleepy move on your side, tantalizing for Jisung, your fingers tickled his skin, from his forearm to his palm, following a gentle path until your hand held his, and you pulled him towards you again, with more care this time.

Jisung could hear his mate’s low voice in his head, full with its classic australian accent.

“Ain’t no way she’s not head over heels for you too. I’d bet money on it,” Felix had chuckled, sipping the beer Han had handed him. “You guys are just blind cunts when you wanna be. Affectionately, of course,” he had added after seeing Jisung squint at him.

Han struggled to get comfortable in his now seemingly small bed. Of course it was small for two people. It had to be, because if you two were to fit in the space avaliable, it would mean that-

“…cold…”

The ruffles coming from how you then shifted on the bed were no match to how loud Han’s heartbeat sounded on his ears.

Your arm slid under his, lying limply on the curve of his waist, the other cocooned in the small space you settled in between you as you slotted your face in the crook of his neck.

thump, thump, thump.

He forced himself to relax.

“…how are you so warm, Ji?”

He had no fucking idea.

“Warm?”

You nodded, your hair tickling his face gently.

“…cozy. Like… a really cute ‘n little… weighted blanket.” You sighed, further relaxing into him, sending a chill to his spine as your warm breath brushed against his neck.

He was so fucking grateful for being so.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” He stated with a silly smile, a blush clearly obvious on his cheeks. He tackled you, and the two of you filled the room with giggles, his arms taking your body and settleing it on top of him.

You melted in his arms. “I missed you.”

He smiled, his hands playing with your hair. “I was only away for the weekend.”

“…don’t care.” His heart threatened to carve through his chest or melt when you tightened your hold on him, then tugged the blanket closer, covering you, thus covering him too.

He settled a strand of your hair behind your ear, noticing little moles in the way.

“I hadn’t noticed these ones before,” he mumbled in a soft voice that could almost lull you to sleep.

You hummed, not bothering to answer.

“I’ve heard somewhere,” he started soothingly, “that moles appear in the spots where, in your past life, you were kissed the most.”

With a sweetness that rottened your teeth, he pecked the small coloured spot in your neck. Then, he followed a short pattern, kissing the one under your ear, then another one in your shoulder, then finished off with the one in your cheek.

You smiled. “You don’t have any moles, do you?” He shook his head sideways, and you chuckled, brushing your nose with his sweetly.

“You better stay put, Ji,” you beamed cheekily. “I’ll make new moles on you.”

His chest tightened, and he beamed, chuckling as you peppered kisses all over his face.

A love scene like the movies.

His new favourite one.

[☆🔹🫂🔹☆]

~Kats, who has to apologize for being dead for so long (and doesn’t quite have an excuse for it), and also has to tHANK ALL OF YOU BC WE’RE 1k FOLLOWERS IN BAKFBQIFNQKFKQK THANK YOU SO MUCH GUYS SRSLY I CAN’T EVEN BEGIN WJKFBAKF <333333

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mochidoie · 2 years ago

Text

boyfriend material.

jung jaehyun x gn!reader genre: fluff, fake dating cliche, strangers to lovers, slight angst wc: 6.2k warnings: sensual tension/implications, sfw kiss scene

Although you and Jaehyun had never spoken a word to each other before this class project, he asks you to be in a fake relationship in order to prove to his longtime crush that he is boyfriend material.

“What if we fake dated?” Nearly choking on your spit, you peer up at the dimpled boy in mostly shock, but also curiosity at why the hell he would be desperate enough to ask such a bizarre request from you, his project partner.

The maximum amount of time you have known this man is probably less than 48 hours and despite being in the same class for the past semester, yesterday is the first time you two have actually exchanged words.

“You have to be out of your mind.” The question was a follow up to the story of his unrequited love, which you had been way too interested in from the start because anything is better than working on school work.

Being paired with Jaehyun for one of the biggest group projects of the year had not been your first pick, but you didn’t have much of a choice since your professor used a random generator to assign partners.

Jaehyun barely knew of your existence two days ago, though, you really can’t blame him for your lack of attendance and participation. All you knew of him was that he was the guy with dimples and his name started with a J. But, that’s college. You don’t get to know much of anyone in your lectures or discussion classes.

This is one of the only classes small enough for a partner project, being that it is a seminar class counted toward your major in order to graduate. You really could have gone through all of college without a single group project on your loop, but the universe tested you.

“Think about it, we could be killing two birds with one stone.” Jaehyun gleams, trying to close your heavy textbook to garner your attention. “I can prove to Rose that I am boyfriend material and you can prove to your friends that you’re not chronically single.”

“I really shouldn’t have confessed that I was chronically single. It gives you leverage to use it against me.” Sighing deeply, you narrow your eyes at this man that wears an innocent smile on his face.

The chance to shut your friends’ chatter about your love life is incredibly tempting and Jaehyun is the perfect visual to introduce: charming smile, glossy eyes, deep dimples, tall, nice build. You just know all your friends would be smitten over a man like him.

“Say I agree to this ridiculous idea, how would we break up?” Your interest is captivated now, as you set your pen in the middle crease of the textbook and cross your arms over the table.

“It could be a mutual split. If you want to spice it up, you can dump me or I can break up with you and I’ll cry about it to Rose. She’ll comfort me, realize I’m so boyfriend material and grow feelings for me.” Jaehyun claps his hands together as if he made the most brilliant idea ever.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes at how silly it sounded. Though, a part of you really wanted to show someone off so that your friends would stop trying to set you up with their weird coworkers or their desperate mutuals.

As if you never thought you’d agreed to something as absurd as fake dating someone, you lean back in your seat and ask the one question that causes the moon crescents to appear on this handsome man’s fluffy cheeks:

“So, what’s the game plan?”

THE GAME PLAN: BOYFRIEND MATERIAL

Meet Cute: Jaehyun asked to borrow a charger and never gave it back. Professor does a random name generator for a partner project. You and Jaehyun are paired. The charger made its way back to its original owner in a fateful way.

Who liked who first: you fell for that sexy baritone voice.

How he asked you out: A dozen roses and a candlelit dinner.

How long have you been dating: three weeks.

Favorite thing about one another:

Y/N: cute stationary

Jaehyun: dimples

“Cute stationary?” You squint at his answer with disgust at how lame it is. “That is the best answer you could think of? People are really going to think we’re head over heels for each other.” The sarcasm in your tone is distinct, not going unnoticed by Jaehyun.

“Says the one that said dimples. How original.” Jaehyun fakely yawns, rolling his eyes at the hypocrisy.

“I’m not going for uniqueness. I’m just making these answers easy enough for me to remember if asked.”

“And we’re making me the forgetful one in the meet cute?” Jaehyun pretends to be offended. His hand rests on his chest, followed by a scoff.

You’re growing to understand Jaehyun’s banter, finding that his question does hold some amount of irony. “Whatever, I have class in 15 minutes. Let’s quickly establish the rules and go on with our day.”

RULES: BOYFRIEND MATERIAL

No kissing on the lips.

Don’t tell anyone about the fake relationship.

Sunday Recaps.

Go to one social event with friends for each person.

“That should be good for now.” You electronically sign your name on the document, sharing access rights to Jaehyun’s email. “We’ll add to it if needed.”

“Do you think it’ll work?” As you rush to pack your things into your backpack, you’re quizzically staring at how concerned Jaehyun looks asking his question. “Like, is it going to convince Rose how good of a boyfriend I’d be?”

“Well, you have to convince me first if you’d even be a good boyfriend before you start thinking about impressing your crush.” Zipping up, you wait for Jaehyun to make a move. Anything, this was essentially a cue. Nonetheless, he remains kicking his feet underneath the table and drifting off into space.

“Seriously?” You ask, arms crossed and weight barred on your left leg. Jaehyun’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, unable to read the bewilderness of your expression.

“What?”

This is going to be harder than you expected. What the hell did you just get yourself into?

“This is your cue to say you’re going to walk me to my class.” Your palm lands on your cheek, rubbing away the forming frustration you have for this man. He is far, far, far from boyfriend material. “Forget it.”

“No, wait-” Jaehyun clears the table of his things, shoving them carelessly into his backpack and hurrying to catch up to you. “I guess I forgot to mention that I don’t know the first thing about impressing someone.”

You can’t help the laugh that slips from your lips, “oh, you clueless handsome man. It is such a good thing you’re attractive or else, it would be much harder for you.”

“That is a very backhanded compliment.” Jaehyun’s laugh is so robust that it rumbles your chest. It is your first time genuinely hearing it, as he has been stoic the whole day you two worked on your project.

“We’ll get there,” you pat his shoulder and head toward the lecture doors, “I’ll send you a calendar invite for your first social event next week.”

Jaehyun stands still, eyes scanning the floor and then back up at your fading figure. “Why are you so willing to help me?”

You stop, hand holding the handle to the door. Looking back at him, the smile on your face shocks him. “Because now I feel responsible for making you a good boyfriend.” With a wave goodbye, you disappear into the building.

Jaehyun puts his hands into his pocket and the white clouds float above him in the blue sky. A small smile creeps on his lips as a simple thought causes it to arise. “Favorite thing about y/n is that smile.”

“I feel like this is so abrupt. When did you two even start talking?” Your friend starts with the questioning. You had warned Jaehyun previously about the million questions you two were going to get tonight and told him to be prepared. Remember the game plan.

“A little over a month ago. Jaehyun and I talked in class for the most part.” Stirring the straw in your drink, you’re wondering if your friends can see past your facade.

“Y/N really likes to play hard to get.” Jaehyun takes control of the narrative, you’re perked up to hear what he has up his sleeve. “I asked for their number three separate times. The first being when I asked to borrow the charger, twice before the midterm, and the third when we were assigned as partners.”

“No wonder why you didn’t get your charger back for the longest time.” Another friend jokes and Jaehyun agrees so naturally. Your eyes scan his whole demeanor and he looks completely relaxed. A part of you had expected that he would flounder and be a nervous wreck in front of your friends. Nonetheless, he is doing great at his first social event.

It is your good friend’s birthday celebration at a more upscale bar downtown. The formal attire was mandatory and you had spent the last hour picking up a last minute outfit for Jaehyun at his apartment.

The two of you had already begun planting the social media seeds over the week. Random roses on a Tuesday afternoon. Dinner with a man’s hand holding the glass near the right side of the picture. Your scrunchie around his wrist as he takes his daily gym selfie.

Your friends bombarded you with eye emojis, acting like detectives to figure out if you were seeing someone. Before you knew it, they were all telling you to invite him to the birthday celebration, which you already knew he’d get the invite for. Your friends were dying to meet him.

The moment you two had stepped in, eyes were instantly on you and watching your every step with Jaehyun in your arms. The attention made you sweat, mostly because you didn’t know how tonight would play out and because you’ve never been seen with a partner.

However, as the night went on, Jaehyun was a real crowd pleaser. Truthfully, you had no idea how Jaehyun is as a person. You two barely know each other’s last names, but the impression you had of him was of a more shy and reserved man. Maybe it was the lack of talking you two shared in the first hour of your group project, but he was so enjoyable to be around.

“Hey, you doing alright?” Jaehyun wraps his arm around your waist, causing you to slightly cease action. He notices, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “Is it okay for me to touch you?”

His hot breath and deep raspy whisper against the shell of your ear actually made your knees weak. Your mind takes you to unimaginable places, scenes that you shouldn’t be thinking about with Jaehyun. The grip on your glass tightens and you’re nodding subtly. “Social battery is depleting. I think we should leave soon.”

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty chaotic over there. We should flee the scene before we get trapped in it.” He points to the small crowd forming near the barstools.

One of the mutuals of another friend is hunched over, gripping his stomach and practically dry heaving in the middle of the area. His face goes completely pale and you just knew he was going to projectile vomit in nearly ten seconds.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Your hand finds his out of instinct, maneuvering the both of you through incoming flocks of friends trying to get another word in. You’re saying your goodbyes while rushing out as fast as you can.

“It was lovely meeting you, Jaehyun!” Some call out and he is waving, bidding his goodbyes as if he is a celebrity to his fans.

One push and you’re out the door, into the chilly night that brushes a breeze on your arms. Finally, there is no one else around and no more small talk, you can breathe. “Wow, that was incredible.”

“I’m used to getting out of situations as fast as I can.” There goes that smile that Jaehyun likes, heart racing and all just by looking at you. “Especially with my friends. They’ll talk your ear off if you let them.”

You’re fully aware that your fingers are still intertwined after escaping. Jaehyun’s hand is a bit rough due to the calluses on his palms from heavy weight lifting, but it feels nice. To be held, to be felt, to share warmth – your heart is running a marathon all on its own.

“Sorry.” Mumbling, your hands separate in seconds. Jaehyun sheepishly puts them in his pockets and averts his gaze awkwardly. For a moment, you forgot where your boundaries lie.

“Can I drive you home?” Jaehyun kindly asks. He beckons over at his car parked on the curb and hopes for you to follow.

“But I live the opposite way.” The reluctance causes your body to freeze up, standing in place. At the end of it all, Jaehyun and you were barely friends. Possibly, your mind is still very much aware of that.

Jaehyun almost starts with a whole thing about it being dangerous at night, but he realizes you really didn’t need to hear all of that. It would’ve been an earful anyway and he just needed you to get into the car without feeling bad.

“I know, but I don’t mind.” He says, opening the door to the passenger side for you. Taken aback, you’re wondering if something happened to Jaehyun overnight for this sudden charm he is exuding.

Perhaps the stars in the night sky are playing tricks on you, but you’re beginning to see Jaehyun in a new light.

“So, you’re completely over Rosie?” There seems to be a pattern amongst yours and Jaehyun’s group of friends. Both sides seem skeptical about the two of you dating, often questioning details about how legit this relationship is.

It’s going to be the 4th week mark – one month of keeping up these charades, but making your very fake relationship just shy of two months. No rules have been broken and you’re building your friendship very well with all the time you two spend together.

You’re at the first social event for Jaehyun. Unlike him, you aren’t one to control a crowd and his friends aren’t like yours where they’d talk endlessly. The anticipation of finally meeting Jaehyun’s crush also dawned on you, her name being mentioned very frequently.

“It would be really weird if I wasn’t.” Laughing dryly, he brings you closer by the waist and into his side. To any outsider perspective, it would look as though Jaehyun is trying to non-verbally reassure you like a good boyfriend would. It doesn’t draw much attention, it’s a light-hearted response to an awkward question. He is learning very well.

To you, it feels very staged and you’re trying your best to hide the warmth you’re feeling from how intimate you two look together. “I don’t mean to offend you. Rosie was Jaehyun’s previous fling and it felt very unfinished.”

The way that Jaehyun had described their relationship didn’t seem like a fling, though you know how people use that word quite loosely nowadays. “It’s hard when you’re each other’s firsts.”

Suddenly, a chill runs down your spine and your heart drops to your stomach. This feeling washing over you is foreign, but familiar all at once. The grip on your waist retreats and Jaehyun looks like a deer caught in headlights. A crucial detail seems to be left out and the way your body reacts to it is a surprise to you.

His friends seem to understand the situation, without any exchange of words. They clear their throats and Jaehyun looks about ready to kill someone. “It was a while ago though!”

“Yeah, they barely ever see each other anymore.” His other friend tries to put a bandage on the situation, chuckling nervously at the shift in atmosphere.

Jaehyun's social event is turning out quite terribly.

“Jae?” A voice calls for everyone’s attention. It’s a sweet and delicate cadence, you would believe it if it came from a princess or fairy of sorts. When you all turn to face the owner of that gentle voice, you’re met with someone even more beautiful.

Something deep inside told you that she had to be Rosie and Jaehyun affirmed it with the look in his eyes. “It’s been awhile.” He gravitates toward her, tunnel vision where she stands at the end of it. Jaehyun speaks to her as if there is no one else in the room, including you.

And although you two aren’t actually dating, the needles in your chest are causing you great distress. Watching him walk toward another person with hearts in his eyes doesn’t exactly make you feel joyous. It is even worse knowing that you’re supposed to be his pretend partner and you’re too stunned to make a move.

Having to remind yourself that she is the sole reason this arrangement exists in the first place, you collect your emotions and breathe deeply. You follow behind Jaehyun, strutting up and wrapping your arm around his. However, Rose doesn’t notice and her wide eyes look at you in excitement.

“We haven’t met, I’m Rose.” She is quick to pull you into a hug. It startles you, patting her shoulder lightly at how harmonious she is. You didn’t have much of an image of how she was like, but it wasn’t this.

Starting with your introductions, her facial expressions are incredibly expressive: a mixture of enthusiasm and surprise. “Jaehyun mentioned that he was bringing a special someone.” Dang it, even her attitude is super cheery. “You are absolutely stunning, I hope Jaehyun is treating you well.”

Here is your cue. “Jaehyun has been the best. I feel like I can’t live my life without him now.” Look over. Loving eye contact. Smile. “I feel like I got really lucky with him.”

Jaehyun knows you’re playing your part, but the churning in his stomach has to be butterflies making their rounds. He hasn’t felt much affection in a while and so he can’t tell if these feelings stem from lack of affirmations or because it's coming from you.

“Aw, you’re the cutest.” Rose gives you the lightest touch on your wrist, an electrifying buzz that you want more of. A fleeting feeling. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to chat because I am totally being a third wheel right now.”

Rose makes her exit before you two could protest. Turning toward Jaehyun, you’re mumbling underneath your breath, “I can see why you’re absolutely in love with her.”

“More of a mild infatuation, I would say.” He leans up against the wall, pulling you into him so he can hear you better. Your hips touch as he lazily wraps his arm around your back.

“Way out of your league, I would say.” You cross your arms, scoffing. “We have our work cut out for us. It’s probably going to be harder than we thought to convince her you’re the perfect boyfriend.”

Somehow Jaehyun looks even hotter rolling his eyes, paired with a small smirk on his lips and a dimple on his right cheek. “I just love chasing people out of my league.”

There is a brief moment of silence between the both of you, staring into each other’s eyes with an unknowing gaze of understanding. In this suffocating intimacy, you could kiss him, open mouth and completely devour him. He could do the same, tasting your hot lips coated in your expensive lip gloss.

So why don’t you?

Why doesn’t he?

No kissing on the lips.

Nonetheless, you break the intense gaze and ignore all the pent up lust you’re feeling in your chest. Bringing your hand to lightly brush away Jaehyun’s loose strands, he catches your wrist mid way.

You watch as he does the unpredictable: soft lips puckered up against the inside of your wrist. Your heart is pounding in your ears, unable to pull away from how much you’re craving him.

All these impure sensual feelings for Jaehyun came to the surface. It’s easy to admit that he is very attractive and if only he knew how to use his charm, he could have anyone in the palm of his hands. The only thing keeping you from falling for him is the sheer fact that he wouldn’t like you back.

No rules against developing feelings for one another, but that doesn’t mean that you should. It was a mental note you kept for yourself to save you a chance at heartache.

“There aren’t any rules against kissing you anywhere else.” Jaehyun whispers against your skin and slowly drops your hand back to your side.

You can’t let it show how much that affected you, how it practically almost caused you to backtrack on this fake dating situation and to jump into his arms. “I didn’t think there was another part of me you’d kiss.”

“Trust me, there is.” His words could have a million different implications, but somehow you knew just what he was referring to. It shakes your core, bubbles your insides. You’re left without any response and no other thoughts in your head besides ripping his clean linen shirt off of his body.

“Hey lovebirds, come and join us for a toast.” Saved by the bell. Jaehyun takes you by your hand, intertwining your fingers.

You send him a quick glare, “we will be talking about this during Sunday Recap.”

“Oh, I plan to.” Jaehyun chuckles, full of soul and banter. As he leads you to join the rest of the crowd, you’re bewildered at the heightened emotions that stick to your chest.

“I think it’s working. Rose asked me if I was free to hang out with her sometime next week.” Jaehyun ever so nonchalantly plants himself on your plush couch. “She never asks me to hang out first.”

“Mhm, that’s great.” You’re partially listening, as you’re fixing up a story to post on your social media of the flower bouquet that Jaehyun bought on his way to your place. “Have fun.”

“Are you actually listening?” He scoffs. Watching your figure walk toward him, you lean down to show him your phone. The image of flowers displayed on your marble countertop with the note very visibly showing who they’re from. Jaehyun nods in approval, hitting the post button before you could triple check yourself.

“Yeah, I’m listening. You and Rose are hanging out next week, I’m glad this charade is working out for you.” There is a small edge in your tone that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jaehyun. He eyes you from the side, trying to decipher the attitude that laces your words.

Something about your demeanor feels off and he’s gotten to know you enough to know that something is bothering you for your lips to turn into a frown. “What are we recapping this Sunday?” He finds that it’s probably best to move on to another topic.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you guys were each other’s firsts?” Sitting next to him, you face him with frustrated furrowed brows and an annoyed expression.

“I didn’t think it was important to mention.” You hated how carefree Jaehyun could be. It makes you feel like you’re overreacting, and in this instance, you could be.

“It’s a bit important. This entire time I thought Rose didn’t like you because you were some lame loser that couldn’t pull someone like her.” Your honesty doesn’t fall short today. It’s as if the more you think about the issue, the more annoyed you get.

Jaehyun, quite offended by that statement, sits up from his normally relaxed position as he is ready to defend himself. “You thought that lowly of me?”

“You made it seem that way.” Throwing your hands in the air, you try to control how loud your voice is growing.

“Or maybe that is just how you perceived me.” He pauses, “Rose and I dated very briefly, three months at most. She broke up with me because I was a bad boyfriend.”

The news of them dating seems to piece all the clues together. The way that Jaehyun looks at Rose makes more sense, it was a look of longing and regret. Rose approached him with full control of the situation, affirming that her decision to break up with him is justified.

“I didn’t buy her flowers, even when she asked. There was a night when it rained and I knew she was on campus without an umbrella, I left her out there because I fell asleep. When we hung out with our friends, I would ignore her.”

You’re taken aback at how negligent Jaehyun had been. “So why did you act that way if you like her so much?”

“I took her for granted and I didn’t know how to be someone’s boyfriend.” It is obvious how long Jaehyun had thought about this. He is too self aware to not have. “She wasn’t going to take me back after I fucked up like that, so I thought it would be good to show her through someone else. How I’ve changed.”

“How do I know it’s not all for show? As if you’re only doing these things to convince everyone you’re boyfriend material until she takes you back and you revert back to your ways.” Your eyes dart to the vase of flowers on your kitchen counter. “There’s no heart in what you do.”

“Are we talking about me and Rose or me and you now?” Jaehyun hits you where it hurts – right in your chest. You’re too stunned to speak, the realization falling on you like heavy bricks.

“Why don’t we talk about us?” You clear your throat, flashback of Jaehyun kissing your wrist entering your thoughts. “What was that the other night?”

Jaehyun doesn’t bother playing dumb. “I was really in the moment.” He rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and rubbing his hands together. “Looking into your eyes… they’re so mesmerizing, like you understand me with just one look. It causes my heart to swell for you.”

“You like Rose.”

“I do, but I’m not blind.” He shoots you a glare. “You’re really going to think that I don’t find you attractive the entire time we've spent together, being intimate with you even if it's fake.”

“It’s not that, Jaehyun.” You sigh, “I find you attractive too, but you have to remember the original reason we’re doing this.”

“And I do. But I can’t help the feelings that surface when I’m with you.” Visibly frustrated, you both take a second to pause in the conversation to recollect yourselves. His chest heaves up and down, trying to process these feelings now that he has finally admitted them out loud.

You are trying to keep your composure cool, but it’s hard to bite your tongue from every tight restriction in your heart. You might actually like Jaehyun and it’s not something you are prepared to face.

“I think we dug our heels a little too deep.” Breaking the silence, you look up at Jaehyun with a kinder and more empathetic expression. The heat in the room is suffocating, all the tension filling the crevices in the walls.

“Perhaps, but I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else.” Jaehyun sits up, facing you with a marvel in his eyes and adoration flooding his pupils. “You’re absolutely incredible, in every way.”

It’s your turn to hold his wrist when he reaches to brush your cheek, “Jae, I think we might have to call it quits.”

“What? But we didn’t break any of the rules.” The sheer sadness in his eyes is painful to witness. It’s like watching a young boy learn how to sacrifice something for the greater good. Jaehyun didn’t want to lose you.

“I broke the one rule I kept to myself and it was not to develop feelings for you.” His wrist drops from your grasp. “I can’t do it anymore, Jaehyun.”

“You fell for me?”

“How could I not? You’re such a great boyfriend to me, even if it was fake.” Sighing, you ponder if you should continue. “I’m irritated at how you’d buy me flowers, but it’s a bouquet of my favorite ones. I can’t take it every time you’re so insistent about driving me home to ensure I make it back safe. You get along with my friends like you’ve known them forever. When you look at me in the midst of a crowd and it’s just us two.”

You’re biting back tears that threaten to form at the rim and gripping tightly at the end of your shirt. This is all a tough pill for the both of you to swallow. It’s almost as if Jaehyun didn’t consider this a possibility when he had asked you to fake date. He thought that since he was so infatuated with Rose, he wouldn’t feel anything for anyone else. On top of that, he knew you saw him as some loser.

“I think we need to just step back from this for a second and take some time to ourselves. I’ve been seeing you every week–”

“But I want to see you every week.” Jaehyun doesn’t mean to be so difficult and in fact, he is usually one to just agree and follow through another person’s decision. However, something within him wants to fight for you.

“I can’t keep ignoring how I feel for you and it’s unfair to all three of us moving forward.” The hope and joy in your face is evidently depleting. Jaehyun can’t do anything to fix it.

“What does this mean for our project then?”

“Well, there isn’t any more group work for us to need to see each other. We can complete our individual parts and upload it to the sheet.” It’s like you’ve already thought this through all on your own and prepared for all the counterarguments he was going to have.

Jaehyun scoffs in disbelief and starts grabbing his jacket. “I understand where you’re coming from, I’ll give you the space you need.”

You can’t even look at him, knowing that you’re not brave enough to face the hurt and pain on his expression. It’s all already in his voice. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I hope you have fun with Rose.”

With that, he makes his exit from your apartment. The weight on your shoulders is lifted and despite the hole in your chest, you feel like this was one of the better options. The other being that you just suppressed the feelings until they finally got together, but you realized it may have caused you more harm than ease.

In the midst of Rose talking, Jaehyun finds himself wondering about how you were doing. He hasn’t been able to stop this sinking feeling in his chest since he left your apartment. The lingering thought of you remains well intact, every little thing makes him want to reach out.

“Jae, are you here or did I lose you somewhere else?” Rose chuckles at the stunned boy.

Perking up, he focuses back on the conversation that he had tuned out of a while ago. If you had asked him two weeks ago how excited he was about this hang out with Rose, he would’ve said that he was through the roof. Now, he isn’t sure how he’s feeling.

“I’m sorry, Rosie.” That’s all he could do, Jaehyun knows this too well. “I’ve just got other things on my mind lately.”

“Are things not going well between you and y/n?” She tilts her head and her eyebrows furrowed together, lending a friendly ear.

Jaehyun shrugs, completely unsure how he could explain the situation with you. “We got into a fight. A lot of feelings became involved that I didn’t know how to handle or react to.”

Rose sighs, “we used to fight a lot and one thing I hated was that you never came back for me.” Her fingers lightly dance around the rim of her glass. “I know you take time to process your emotions, but the other person will never know how you’re feeling or how you felt if you don’t tell them.”

He remains quiet, absorbing the advice that Rose is giving. This hangout was supposed to be one where he got her back with him, not one where she consoles him on his current fake relationship with you.

“I think y/n brings out a side of you that I didn’t get when we were together.” Rose admits, giving a soft and knowing smile. “However, I feel like they’re the only person that gets to have that side of you. I don’t want you to lose that shine that they bring out of you. You’re absolutely radiant together.”

Jaehyun seriously cannot believe what he is hearing. She asks the waiter for the bill and is packing up her things. “Wait, Rose. We’re done here?”

“Jaehyun, you and I both know that we were done a long time ago.” Rose gives Jaehyun a light squeeze on the wrist. “You should see the way you look at y/n, it’s full of want and excitement.”

There is a brief moment of realization for Jaehyun. The overwhelming emotions overtake him and before he knows it, he’s running out the door of the restaurant and on his way to the one place he’s been holding back from heading to: the flower shop below your apartment.

You’re typing the last bit of your part of the project, nearly trying every way to not engage with the thought of Jaehyun. The take out boxes of dinner scatter your counter as you speedily work your way through long paragraphs.

The one thing you knew was that Jaehyun had been out with Rose and the pain from that discovery stuck to your heart like glue. You were better off with numerous distractions than thinking about how heavenly of a time he must be having with the literal love of his life.

The sound of your doorbell halts your ruthless typing. With curiosity, you approach the door. You weren’t expecting anyone tonight, so it was strange that there would be someone looking for you. Through the peephole, Jaehyun stands there in all of his glory.

You’re practically tearing down your door at the sight of him, bewildered and slightly annoyed at the sight of him. “What are you doing here?”

“Something I should’ve done that night at the party.” Before you could fully process his presence, Jaehyun dives into you with lips firmly pressed against yours.

His hot hands cup both of your cheeks, dropping the bouquet of your favorite flowers he had picked up on his way here. But none of that truly mattered more than finally kissing you.

Your heart swells at the passion that Jaehyun kisses with, it’s loving and strong. Something about it suits him perfectly, like a puzzle piece that completes the picture. Kissing you confirmed everything that Jaehyun had been feeling up to this point.

Fireworks exploding in his chest, he feels an abundance of endorphins lighting his system. Jaehyun has been into you all along. He couldn’t pinpoint why it had been so easy with you, like there were no expectations held against him to be someone extraordinary.

He found himself buying you flowers, but not just anything simple or generic. It had to be your favorite, just so he could see the way your eyes light up at the sight of them. He had to be the one to take you home, making sure he got to spend every second he could with you and that he was the one that got you there safely.

He wanted to impress your friends, knowing how much they meant to you. And when he looks in the midst of a crowd, all he sees is you.

Your grip on his shirt almost makes him not want to let go, like you’re so afraid of him going away again. Nonetheless, he takes your hands into his and pulls away. The look of pure shock on your face makes him chuckle, a full robust laugh from the chest. He could kiss you again right then and there.

“You’re so cute when you do that.” Jaehyun smiles gently, holding you in his arms so lovingly like he has done so before. This feels incredibly familiar to him, but it no longer feels like a show. This feeling is very real and the swelling in his chest is very much aching at the sight of you. He wants to give you the world.

“We broke our first rule.” Your mind draws a blank after the kiss and Jaehyun smiling before you as if you two hadn’t ended things a week ago. He picks up the bouquet of your favorite flowers, handing them toward you with inviting eyes.

“No more rules, no more fake dating. I want the real thing.” Jaehyun swallows his spit, noticing how dry his throat had gotten at his confession. You’re staring at him as if he was seriously out of his mind. “With you.”

And you didn’t think that at the end of all of this, Jaehyun would be at your door with a bouquet of flowers asking you to be his. You proved to Jaehyun that he could love another, while being a better person for them. You truly brought out his boyfriend material, proving to the whole world that Jung Jaehyun is only boyfriend material for you.

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