#might have to dump him again lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dilf-docs · 3 months ago

Note

hii i just read ur eddie x young reader. And i LOVE ITTTT

Can u please do something similar but with young neighbor reader? Where the reader moves in an apartment beside eddie . They meet each one day and they hit it off? (nsfw )

(Ignore this if u don’t like the idea or u can change it)

Knockin' On Heaven's Door

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

summary: you're what people call a ray of sunshine, probably the most likeable person in the planet. so why is this hot idiot next door so mean to you?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (you know this blog lives by its name), smut, sunshine!reader x grumpy! eddie (cause his ass just got dumped lol), enemies to lovers (one-sided), kinda mean!eddie, porn with little to no plot, power goes out so they get freaky in the dark, use of pet names, p. in v.(use protection guys pls!!! don't be like this dumbasses fucking raw in the dark), oral (m. receiving), creampie, no venom :(

word count: 4,069 words (it's almost midnight again, me thinks I've forever messed up my sleep schedule cause ain't no way inspo only grows as per my eyebags lol)

side note: got my first request on tumblr!! (insert scarlett johanson dancing in marriage story gif). i love looove the neighbours trope so much (hey! if i had a hot older neighbour i would be doing the most to interact with them, bet); hope this lives up to ur expectations even if i tweaked a few things! also, this happens after eddie gets dumped by anne and moves out of the house lol so he's angry, moppy, horny and dry. what if i make this a series tho, would you like that? requests are open!

You're what people call a ray of sunshine. Ever since you managed to talk, all that comes out of you is happiness: the first sound to come out of your mouth was a laugh, your first word was smile, you have Love as your second name, you made friends on real time record, the profession you chose was that of a patissier and the first ink to grace your skin was a little heart tattoo.

Okay, maybe you've made it your whole personality to be likeable. So what? It's not your fault you light up every place you go, that people love you effortlesly and that life seems to smile your way.

It's the way the cookie crumbles, a fitting phrase for a pastry chef like you. Your friends often joked about it: you, a sweet person, baking little sweet goods to make other's lives sweeter.

And you loved it: your life, your job, your family, friends, cat and little apartment in San Francisco.

There was just one thing missing: because no matter how sweet you made other's peoples worlds by existing, no one was there to make it for you.

Alright, you had enough love and just loved love for the sake of it. Sometimes, a tidbit of romance through your screen or through the couple-d lives of your friends sufficed such desire, but its a lie to say you haven't dreamed of your own.

So when Johanna, the girl who lives across you, comes rushing with the newest gossip: "hot new neighbour moving next door!", there's something that tells you it might be time.

"You have to see him" she emphasizes, "a total eye candy"

That ignites the curiosity inside you, and after some weeks hearing through your walls grunts next door and a constant shuffle of things originally packed in boxes, you find yourself knocking on his door, tray of cookies in your hands.

Yes, you did bake them for him. After all, your chocolate chip cookies are a killer! People do lines to get them at your aunt's cafeteria, just to taste the warm soft dough, the chocolate melting on their mouths. You do this for every other new neighbour that comes around, it's just how you are! But the cookie choice is totally intentional though.

The door flinges open, and for the very first time in years, you find yourself at loss for words; speechless.

The stranger before you is a face you'll never forget. Handsome, of course, but there is something alluring in his beauty, one you can't exactly name, but comes along in a pair of thick lips, brown warm eyes and ink sprinkled across strong arms. Your heart hammers in your chest, and it takes all in you to not drop the tray in your chest right here and now.

"Hey!" you find your voice again. Clearing your throat, you proceed. "You're our new neighbour, right? I'm y/n, I live next door. Thought you'd like something sweet to eat after all that effort" you push the tray to the front, "I made this myself!"

He just stares back, blinking. You think he may be confused by your random act, but it's quite normal to do so with newbies. You love welcoming acts!

The awkward stiffness he radiates doesn't deter you away, though. "This are for you" you insist, "or just take one, if you don't want them all..."

"I hate chocolate" he finally says, with such a scowl on his face, you'd think you killed his entire family.

Oh! He hates chocolate? Who hates chocolate?!

You suddenly feel small and stupid. Without much else to say, you don't know how to proceed. You have your way with words, but no one has ever rejected you in the cold open before. It's left you baffled.

Then, a light bulb goes on in your head.

"Wait, I know you!" he quirks an eyebrow. "You're that reporter from TV, Eddie Brock" you gush, "I love helping others, but what you do is amazing... you're, like on other level, giving a voice to those who don't have one"

You admired him; he was someone who was brave and cared.

"Not anymore" and then the door slams in your face.

It takes you a while to process there, standing in the eerie silence of the empty hall, that Eddie Brock may be the very first person in the world who doesn't like you.

In the end, you'd given the batch of cookies to the homeless people living around your building. Even if it made you feel good, the pang in your chest didn't go away. You simply couldn't forget about the incident (because of pride and embarrasment in equal parts), plus, the fact that he lived next door and you couldn't go on about your day without hearing him pace around his apartment, made the task of forgetting about it difficult.

So in the following days you've avoided him, which has been pretty easy so far, since he barely leaves his apartment and you're busy with work and stuff.

It's friday night, and with the next week's groceries in hand, you take the elevator. The door's about to close when it opens again. You can't believe it: after successfuly evading him for five days, Eddie Brock is trapped with you inside the reduced space; you shouldn't been lazy and taken the stairs instead.

"'Night" he mutters, and you swear you've gone deaf because you barely hear so. You don't know what to do, so you just stand there, clutching your tote bag a little too hard. It could be an accident: he's too drunk out of his mind and doesn't know it's you.

It's not like he's been so nice, but after his asshole-ish move last time you saw each other, you don't expect basic courtesy towards you either.

You get a whiff of his scent, mixed with traces of whiskey. It's unfair how intoxicating it feels―how it's got you wanting more of what isn't yours.

God knows it's been long enough since you've wanted a man this bad.

It's not until the elevator dings again that you realize you've been holding your breath the entire time.

"Bye, pretty"

He casually exits out into your same floor never looking back, without realizing the effect his words have on you, hope slowly making its way through the creaks of your open heart.

Okay, maybe it's your fault for raising such high stakes based on two words and a silly little drunk interaction. Maybe you deserve it: because you've become a bit obsessed with the fact that Eddie hates you, but after yesterday, you've already traced a truce in your mind.

Even Johanna has told you to be cool about it. "It's time someone didn't like you" she joked, but you didn't find it funny. She insisted it's not important, but to you it is! How can he not like you? Maybe if he had a valid reason, you'd stop insisting, despite the let down. But he doesn't have one! And you've been nothing but kind! You think too much about it because it doesn't make any damn sense: you're loosing your mind and your friend just laughs.

The only reason you haven't talked to him again, is because work load has catched up to you.

But now you're here, out on the street, and the first person you see is him: on top of his bike, ready to go out.

"Nice!" you chirp. It may not be a top brand, but the black vehicle is as cool as its owner: the leather jacket, worn out jeans and beat up look is an insane combination that may or may not have you drooling.

"Huh?" he looks back at you, and you swear your cheeks reddened in embarrasment at his deadpan expresion.

"Nice bike, I mean" you nervously laugh, fiddling with a loose string of your sweater. "I love seeing them, but I don't think I'll ever ride one. I get scared too easily, you know?"

He puts his helmet on, "Alright"

Not even a thanks or an attempt of a small talk; what an idiot. Didn't he talk to you last time? Called you pretty? Why is he acting so curt right now?

"Hey, what is your pro-"

Your question doesn't get to be finished, because the engine roars and he's out of there, leaving you confused inside a cloud of smoke, the trail leaving with your last sparks of hope.

It's one of those nights where you just want to lay down and let sleep take control of your body. As soon as you get in your comfy pajamas and sink in the mattress, a noise erupts through the air. Startled, you raise on your feet, the slumber long gone.

Fuck. This hasn't been your week, has it?

The noise comes from outside, and you know who it is: the guy who lives in the corner, right next to the window; he who brings too many women home and plays his guitar a little too loud. It's late an he isn't getting the memo, clearly.

You swing your door open, ready to give him a piece of mind (and perhaps dump your accumulated stress from the week), until you realize you aren't the only one outside on the hall. It's Eddie, and he looks just as pissed as you do.

"Can't sleep?" he asks in a mocking tone, all while avoiding your eyes, rather focused on the common enemy's door.

"What do you think?" you reply, equaling his tone.

You both agree in silence, walking to his door. After some knocking, the guy opens his door: less thrilled when he sees Eddie and more complaint when he sees you.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll keep it down" and winks. The nerve of this guy. Even Eddie is frowning, surely annoyed at his lack of etiquette. "You can knock anytime, noise or not".

The door closes, but it's Brock who did it, not guitar guy. You're too tired to ask, and after picking what's left of your dignity around him, you decide it's best to walk back to your apartment.

"You know what's funny?" you stop your tracks, laughing, but it's devoid of amusement, "I lost my sleep".

He just stares back, and you're tired of the way conversations have to run by your side, for the very first time. You keep on walking, but as soon as your hand touches your doorknob, he speaks up:

"Goodnight" a small truce, you think. But you're not falling this time.

So you do the right think: walk inside without saying a word, and just like him, never looking back.

You wake up agitated in the middle of the night. It's raining: not just a normal rain but a huge storm. You look over at your alarm, noticing its characteristically red numbers are as pitch black as the sky above you. It's also thundering, and God, do you hate noises and thunder.

You jump again at another one cutting through the sky, and decide it's for the best to just stay awake until it's time to wake up. According to your phone, you have about three hours until morning rises. That's enough time to watch a movie or two. Even to pet your cat, which is laying next to your bed, clearly unbothered―unlike his owner.

But there's a problem: when you try to turn the switch, no lights go on. Your incredulous laugh ecos in the room.

Not only a storm, but also a fucking black out.

Scare slowly creeps up, and the shivers you feel are definitely not only because of the temperature drop.

So you grab your phone and head out, without clearly thinking and obviously in panic, because the first thing you do is knock on your neighbour's door.

Eddie's.

"Oh!" it takes a while for him to answer his door, but when he does, his phone's flashlight burns your eyes. "Sorry" he apologizes, and you don't know if it's for that or the fact he didn't answer; maybe for everything too, "didn't hear the knocking with all the thunder".

You say it's fine, that you're just checking to see if you're not the only one without light.

He flicks a nearby switch to no avail, "I'm afraid everyone in the whole building too"

Eddie probably notices your frightened state, the way you shiver like a lost puppy, and feels sorry.

"Wanna come inside?" he offers, hands inside his grey sweater's pockets.

For the very first time since you met him, he looks at you, but really looks at you: eyes roaming over your body, an all too familiar feeling painted across his brown orbs.

You realize a bit late what you're wearing: a teensy short and top, a set of pajamas that happens to be your most comfortable. Favorite too. Appropiate for this emergency meeting? Maybe not.

"You want me to?" you asked, confused. "I thought you hated me"

The only sound across the hall is the droplets of rain outside, some tapping in the window next to you and his apartment.

He looks rather embarrased, "I don't".

"Then you're just an idiot" you counter back, and he doesn't fight you about it.

"Fair" he says, "I can make some coffee?"

Maybe he's pretty convincing or you're a people pleaser, but as soon as he proposes, you're caving in just like that.

"Fine, but you better let me bring my cat"

Truth is, Muffin plays hard to get, but now he's resting in Eddie's lap―purring, as you two sip quietly on your coffee. Traitor.

"I used to have a cat" he says, cutting through the silence.

"Oh!" you leave your mug on his table, next to the candle; the only source of light in the room, "didn't think of you as a cat person".

"Tecnically, it belongs to my fiancée. Sorry, ex-fiancée" he makes a pause, "bet that cat doesn't miss me".

"I didn't know you had a, uh-" you're not sure how to proceed, so you trail off. Muffin jumps from Eddie's lap to the kitchen, lost in the dark.

"Yeah, I had a fiancée, cat, house, and job. Then I lost everything" he dry chuckles, humorlessly, "guess that's why I'm so bitter"

"I'm sorry" you say on the most sincere tone you can muster. Eddie wonders how can you be so kind and forgiving, especially after he's been nothing but an asshole to you.

"Doesn't mean I should've been a douchebag for no reason. You didn't deserve it" he apologizes, embarrased.

You stay in silence for some more time but then he says: "Not an excuse, but it's been real bad days"

The candlelight is so flickering, you don't know if he's seen your eyes, but by the way he gulps, you think he did.

"Maybe... I could offer a helping hand"

Why had you said that? Are you out of your mind? You barely know the guy, who, by the way, had been a jackass to you like, five minutes ago. But he's hot! And you love to help!

Jesus, talk about dignity and boundaries.

"Y-you would?" he stammers, but the way his hand travels to your lap reveals nothing but security.

He's not asking if you've gone insane or what exactly you mean by that: he's just asking if you would do it.

Would you help?

"Don't you know, Eddie?" your voice drops a sultry octave, "I love to help".

You lean close enough for him to smell the cinammon scent of your skin. Soon, he's leaning too, playing along even against his better judgment. It's too soon, but he's so drawn into you and can't resist it no more; ever since he met you.

His cock twitches in his pants, "help me, then"

It happens too fast, one second you're sipping on your coffee, looking like the most warm and softhearted person in the world and now you're on your knees, deep into his carpet, tugging at his belt with your teeth, a hunger he hasn't seen before in your eyes and filthy needy mouth.

Sex with Anne was sweet and normal. Vainilla. You smell like it too, but there's a difference: you have the appetite of a siren.

Using your hands, you remove the leather your teeth had beggin with, moving them to tug his ripped jeans down, pulling the zipper too in the process. You keep using your mouth, now to get rid of his boxers, where the outline is tight over his cock. Eddie finds himself so aroused to the point he feels hot, even if there's a storm outside and the candle barely provides warmth.

"You sure have a mouth" he mumbles in ecstasy, drunk in the sight of your glimmering lips, coated in saliva. He's dripping too: everywhere.

His cock bounces out, almost hitting you in the face.

"Look at you" you coo, "already dripping for me. What a pretty cock you've got, Mr. Brock"

Fuck, he's going to hell after this. But you can't corrupt what's already corrupted.

"Then you better show me what you mean"

You lick the tip, already leaking with precum. He tenses momentarily, and then stiffle a moan when you take his balls into your mouth, a similar sound coming from you. You suck lightly at them, running your tongue along the sensitive skin.

His hips buckle into your face, and you have to chuckle at the fact it's probably the first time he's ever has his dick sucked this good.

"Don't stop" he huffs.

You obey, tongue tracing along the underside of his cock until you're back at his tip. Eddie's still inside his drunk haze when he feels you taking all of him inside your mouth in one single movement.

"Fuck-!" he chokes out, the thunder outside shutting the vulgar sounds coming out of his plush lips. "Think you can take more?"

His large hand touches the back of your head and pushes it forward with force. His cock presses deeper into your throat, tip hitting the back of it. You feel yourself gag, but the wet spot that's starting to form in your panties says otherwise.

He twists your hair tightly, holding you in place as he fucks your throat with his cock. You feel tears, and Eddie thinks he's never had a prettier sight than you: glossy eyes, looking up to him as you take all his cock.

"I know you can, baby" he presses, "help me like you said you would, yeah?"

His fat cock is blocking your air supply, but the subtle motivation and praise in his eyes is enough to keep you going, thought your throat ends up bulging from the size of his cock, stretching out to accommodate his size.

You said you would help, right? And even if you always do it for the altruist reward, something about being used in such a vulgar and rough way has your chest and panties feeling warm.

Brock groans, body sweating and muscles tense. He yanks you up by your hair, chasing the orgasm like an animal, every movement feeling almost primal.

"Stay there" he feels it coming, "don't move".

You gurgle something, spit rushing down your chin and dripping onto your chest.

"It's almost over, sweetheart" his eyes roll back, head resting on the coach he'd barely used until now, where he's fucking you in the mouth, "I knew that filthy mouth of yours could take me"

You open your mouth wider, anticipating. Tension releases: and he's pounding out his orgasm in your throat, hips banging into your face. You swallow it all, even if you can't taste it since he was so deep in you. He pulls out, a string of spit connecting his tip with your lips.

"Thanks" his voice comes out rough, "you do know how to help those in need"

You wipe your chin with your hand, voice hoarse, "I suppose"

There's some silence afterwards, and now Eddie is cursing he doesn't know what else to say.

"Power is still out" he speaks, "we've got some hours left until the sun rises again"

"So what's your idea?" you giggle, "tell scary stories in the dark?"

You both laugh, but you stop and deadpan. "Please don't, I get scared very easily" and you pout those pretty lips of yours out. How can you be such an adorable but greedy girl? It's hard to believe you're the same person.

"Not that" he swallows thickly. Why is he doing this? Was a blowjob (a fantastic blowjob, by the way) by a young insatiable thing like you enough to make him go mad? "I want to help you too".

Before you protest, he's pulling you and sealing your lips with a hot kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, playing with it. He pulls out, biting your lower lip.

"Eddie" you whine, "b-bed, now"

He's supposed to be older and smarter, so why is his resolve melting away this quickly? Following your orders immediately, your back bouncing on the soft mattress of his bed. As soon as you lay, his lips trail kisses down your throat.

"God, you smell so good" you giggle, "bet this pussy will taste as sweet, huh?"

His cold fingertips grace the fabric of your tiny shorts and the touch gives you goosebumps, "look at you" he tugs your panties, nudging at your cunt. "So soaked... is this for me, baby?"

"Yes, Eddie" the way you say his name is enough to make even the strongest man fold, his dick jolting in response. "Take it"

Both of you remove your clothes in such a hurry, you hope you haven't damaged your favorite pair of pajamas.

"Let me see her" he demands, so you spread your legs, revealing your dripping pussy.

When you kiss again, the underlying carnal desire is mutual, saliva connecting in a silver thread as you both gasp for aire. Your hands wander across his chest, fingers playing with his tensing muscles.

"I promise to reward her, okay?" he lines his cock up with your entrance, the fat tip nudging against you, sticky with precum.

You're desperate with anticipation, practically begging, "please do".

He pushes inside you fully, balls slaping against your sticky clit hard. He’s so deep, pushing against your cervix and stretching you out with each thrust, making even the task of breathing painful and laborious.

Brock feels like he's ruined you, yet you look rather content. You've been used to giving; your kindness of a caretaker nature. You're used to giving your all and not receiving, so with every new thrust against you, his hips slamming, you know you'll never feel this pleasure again with anyone else, the delicious sense hitting you in waves that make you feel dizzy. So, in a way, he has ruined you.

"That desperate for me to fill you?" there's no answer, but the sound of rain and skin clapping against skin.

"Yes, give it to me” you sob, "Eddie, please!"

"Focus on taking it" he guides you. It may make him a pervert, but he isn't changing the sheets any time soon; they'll be covered in you and he'll smell them everytime he gets inside them. "I'm gonna cum"

You moan, lightly tugging at the strands of damp hazel hair. He chokes out a husky groan, heat pooling on his stomach.

Eddie's dick twitches inside you, cum filling your eager insides with the biggest load you’ve ever felt. Your pussy clenches, spasming, wrapping tighter around his length in a needy way, your high coming almost at the same time.

Both your breathes come out in ragged pants. He nuzzles against your neck, skins equally damped.

"Fuck"

As soon as those words leave his mouth, the power returns. You should go now, as this is the reason you stayed, but none of you make the move to leave.

"Stay?" he pleads, "It's still raining outside"

How can you say no to those brown puppy eyes? Does he think he can fuck you this good and then make you leave?

"Alright" you swear he smiles, and it's the prettiest smile you've seen in your life. Could you fall this easily in love? "But turn off the lights: I have work tomorrow and need some sleep"

"Whatever you say, baby" he nips at your lower lip, "you know I love to help"

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embbarnes · 2 months ago

Text

Roasted Chestnuts. | B.B

summary: Bucky takes to sleeping in the living room, you comfort him with hot cocoa.

warnings: Angst & Fluff | PTSD symptoms | Nightmares | Post accidental injuries

a/n: I hope this technically qualifies, even though it's sort of angsty. But there is fluff! I decided to use a few themes from the list provided and melded them together. Unedited, mistakes to be fixed later lol. ;; wc: 3.3k

Cold sweat and cold weather don't exactly mix.

Neither did the cold, wooden floor of the living room but...he insisted on it ever since he woke up choking you to near unconsciousness, his hands trembling with horror when he realized what he had done. The hardwood became his self-imposed punishment, refusing the comfort of proper bedding.

He couldn't forgive himself for that, his instability taunted him for weeks after that, having to see the bruise around your throat cause by his hand. Every morning he would catch glimpses of the purple-blue marks adorning your precious neck, each glance a reminder of how close he had come to destroying everything he held dear. The guilt ate away at him, manifesting in sleepless nights and countless apologies that could never seem to erase that moment from his memory.

He deserved it; the chill in the air making every bead of perspiration feel like tiny needles against his skin.

Especially his scars.

His shoulder hurt bad during the winter, which wasn't a huge surprise, but he would've appreciated if his body formed a bit of resistance to the cold by now.

Between endless cryofreezing, Siberian training, the prolonged exposure to freezing should have given him some sort of enhanced ability to withstand the cold but...cruelly, almost laughably, he was more vulnerable to the bite of chill now.

It pissed him off, quite frankly.

But right now, he couldn't bring himself to dwell on his annoyance.

Instead, his thoughts drifted to you as he sat there on the cold floor, his body tucked carefully against the chair that stood positioned by the stark wall. He had turned the chair into an improvised shelter of sorts, his upper body deliberately laid close beside it in a way that almost seemed to mimic having another body near him for comfort. The transition had been gradual over the course of several months, he had slowly grown accustomed to sleeping in a proper bed, and more importantly, he had grown used to having you there beside him.

Your warm, protective arms would wrap around his frame each night, and he had found himself free of any hesitation or shame as he tucked himself against your chest, letting the steady rhythm of your heartbeat become his personal lullaby, lulling him into peaceful sleep. Better than any goddamn noise machine he could dream of.

But that peace had been shattered after one particularly visceral nightmare that had resulted in him nearly choking the life from you in his sleep-addled state. He found himself unable to bear the thought of sharing a bed with you again, too terrified of what his unconscious mind might make him do.

He thought he was getting better, he was supposed to be better. The words didn't work anymore...therapy was mediocre at best but it was supposed to help him. Yet, after all of that, he still hurt you.

He's still plagued.

Frustrated with himself and the situation, he kicks the chair slightly, causing it to skid a few inches across the worn wooden floor with a harsh scraping sound. Bucky takes a deep breath, his flesh hand instinctively gripping his dog tags - those small pieces of metal that remind him of who he once was - one his own, one Steve’s.

Damnit, Steve. Why didn’t he stay?

The one man who always had his loyalty, his best friend, he felt so abandoned.

Now he had to dump his shit on you. You didn’t deserve this.

Dealing with what remained of Bucky. Dealing with his problems.

Burdening you with his issues.

All alone.

His vibranium hand nervously bundled the thin, threadbare blanket he used to sleep under. The television continued to drone on in the background, playing yet another cheesy Christmas movie that felt hollow and distant. He didn’t like these ones.

He liked the older ones.

They were simpler, easier to grasp. The fantasy of talking snowmen and flying reindeer seemed far better to lose himself in than these modern romantic tales of a cheerful woman who sings perfect carols and inevitably falls for a handsome shop owner...predictable stories that seemed to play on an endless loop.

The warm glow from the Christmas tree cast a gentle, inviting light across the sparse living room, making the empty space feel more like home. The apartment was still largely unfurnished, your current financial situation wasn’t great to say the least. Bucky's couldn’t get a job with his ‘criminal’ background, nor would anyone hire the Winter Soldier, regardless of how good he worked and how well he was with his hands. That left you as the sole provider. The weight of being the only one working pressed heavily on your shoulders, though you never complained.

You were happy to do it, if it meant Bucky could spend time relaxing and not worrying about anything.

Still, he didn’t like it.

The thought of his girl working for the both of you gave him a sour taste in his mouth, his gut tightened as he saw it as just another burden for you. A gentleman deep down, you having to work to support the two of you didn’t do anything but give him even more mental crisis.

Even when you were on the run in Romania, he found odd jobs. He brought food home. He took care of the two of you. It wasn’t that Bucky didn’t think you shouldn’t be working because you were a woman, it’s just…he felt horrible. You did so much for him, and all he could do was sit at home and wait for you to come off your shifts. He felt worthless.

And despite the tight budget, you'd worked extra hours so you could afford a Christmas tree for the apartment. While Bucky had initially been indifferent to the idea of holiday decorations, his memories of past Christmases long since faded into a blur. Watching your face light up as you carefully placed each ornament made every penny worth it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the subtle creak of floorboards, and he turned to find you peering around the corner of the short hallway that led to your bedroom. "Buck Buck...what're you doin' up?" you murmured, voice thick with sleep. Your hair was charmingly disheveled, and his old henley hung loosely on your frame, the hem nearly reaching your knees. Your eyes, still heavy with sleep, blinked slowly, "I heard somethin' out here, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, doll I'm...I'm fine." He exhaled slowly, not exactly confident in his words, shoulders slumping forward as the weight of sleepless nights pressed down on him. His hand still held the dog tags, fiddling with them restlessly as his thumb pad gently traced the engraved names and numbers, a nervous habit he'd developed.

"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself that?" You asked softly, sitting down beside him on the cold floor, close enough to offer comfort but far enough to give him space. "Why don't you come back to bed with me? It's cold out here and that small blanket is not enough... I can see you shivering."

"No." He spat firmly, his jaw clenching with tension, "We've been over this. I'm not going to risk hurting you again. I can't...I won't let that happen."

"It was an accident-" you tried to reason, reaching out instinctively.

"NO!" Bucky snapped suddenly, his volume and tone loud enough to echo off the walls, making you flinch as it startled the sleep out of you. The fear in his own eyes matched yours for a split second.

It was silent for a few beats until finally he found the courage to break it with trembling words.

"I can't...I won't hurt you again. Every time I close my eyes, I see your face - the fear in your eyes when I came back to myself. You can downplay it all you want. The doctors told me how close I came to crushing your trachea. How am I supposed to carry on knowing what I almost did? You still have that dark bruise around your throat, oh...god..." His voice cracked and faded, heavy with anguish. The traumatic memory had carved itself deep into his psyche.

The faceless HYDRA torturers had been replaced in his nightmares, instead, visions of his own hands wrapped around your throat, watching helplessly as the life slowly drained from your eyes.

That was more horrifying than any of HYDRA's torture.

He would willingly submit himself to every cruel experiment, every brutal conditioning session, every moment of agony they had ever put him through - if it meant he could erase that one terrible moment when he had almost become your killer.

"Bucky," you interrupted his thoughts, your hand reaching out hesitantly in the dim light of the room, hovering just inches from his tensed shoulder but not yet making contact. You turned your palm slowly upward toward the ceiling, silently willing him to either take your hand or at least allow you the comfort of touching him. "I promise you, I am fine. Yes, it might've been a bit scary in the moment when it happened, and I understand why you're worried...but I know you'd never hurt me on purpose, not in a million years. It was an accident, nothing more than that."

He shifted uncomfortably under your unwavering gaze, his fingers clutching the deep green blanket even tighter to his chest, drawing it close like armor against both the cold and his own guilt. You could see the slight tremor in his frame, whether from the chilly air or his inner turmoil, you weren't sure. You knew he must be freezing out here in the living room, but if there was one thing you'd learned about Bucky, it was that he could be impossibly stubborn.

No matter how much you yearned to lead him back to the warmth of your shared bedroom, you knew he wouldn't budge an inch, wouldn't dare return to your bed, not while the belief that he might unconsciously harm you still gripped his conscience.

Instead of trying the back and forth of arguing, you decided to do something else. Rising from your spot, you made your way back to the bedroom, your bare feet making soft padding sounds against the aged wooden floorboards that creaked ever so slightly with each step. When Bucky heard you walk away, he assumed you had given up and gone back to bed for the night, so he slowly lowered himself down onto his makeshift sleeping spot, trying to find a comfortable position to attempt sleep.

But your absence was only temporary. Within moments, you had returned.

Your arms were laden with an assortment of blankets and a plush pillow, carried from your bedroom.

"No, doll..." he sat up immediately, preparing to launch into reasons why you shouldn't subject yourself to sleeping on the floor, even if it might be hypocritical. But you possessed every bit as much stubbornness as he did, and you had already made up your mind that he wouldn't have to face this night alone.

"Hush. I'm staying with you, and if that means camping out in the living room, then that's exactly what I'm going to do." You insisted firmly but gently, carefully arranging the blankets and pillow beside his spot. "And if sleep doesn't come easily tonight, then we can always put on a movie to pass the time. But I don't want you to be on your own, you've been torturing yourself for weeks now..."

Bucky looked down at his lap, a mix of exasperation and fondness crossing his features. "You are such a brat..." He finally replied, his lips pulling into a small, almost reluctant smile. The warmth in his chest grew steadily as he watched you, touched by how adamantly you insisted on sleeping beside him, even if it meant spending the night on the cold floor.

"That's me," you replied with a playful smirk, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Now...how about some hot chocolate? If we aren’t gonna sleep, then we might as well have a little treat. Plus, it'll warm you up." You offered, already making your way to the kitchen with determined steps, your mind set on the comforting beverage. "Marshmallows or whipped cream?" You called over your shoulder, your voice carrying a hint of amusement as you deliberately didn't give him any opportunity to decline the offer.

He shook his head slowly, running his hand over his face as an affectionate smile spread across his features, unable to hide how endeared he was by your persistence. "Marshmallows...please," he responded softly.

"And that chestnut flavoring?" You added thoughtfully, observing him still comfortably tucked away on the floor, his form relaxed against the wall. Bucky gave a shy nod, a gentle expression crossing his features, and you couldn't help but smile warmly in return. "We should roast some, I hear people do that this time of year. But I'm not sure why exactly? I haven't had the chance to try them prepared that way before."

You carefully made your way back to where he sat, extending the steaming mug of hot chocolate towards him. The ceramic vessel was filled nearly to the brim, with a generous mountain of tiny marshmallows creating a fluffy white peak on top.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders slightly, reaching up to pluck a few of the dry marshmallows from the pile, popping them into his mouth one by one. "You can eat them plain as a snack," he offered simply, savoring the sweet dissolving treats.

"Yeah, but that seems a bit too plain for chestnuts. How about…a pie? God, I love pecan pie, why not chestnut pie? Or I hear they go good with apples."

"Pie would be really good...you know how much I love your baking," Bucky smiled warmly, his eyes lighting up as he fondly recalled all the delicious sweet treats you had lovingly prepared throughout the seasons. Apple pie was one of Bucky's all time favorite desserts, and he always lit up when you made it for him. You aren’t a professional baker by any means, but the homemade pastries and treats that came from your kitchen had become one of his most treasured simple pleasures in the world.

You sat nestled against him, your shoulders touching as you both sipped hot chocolate and talked about everything and nothing. The conversation drifted from the gentle snowfall outside to potential weekend activities, from dessert recipes you wanted to try together to movies you both wanted to watch.

Bucky had changed visibly since you crept out to see him, his tense shoulders had gradually loosened, the worried lines around his eyes had softened, and genuine smiles now came more frequently. You both occasionally made playful commentary about the predictable romantic comedy playing on screen, sharing knowing looks as the plot became increasingly formulaic and harder to tolerate.

"Can't we watch something else?" Bucky asked, turning to meet your gaze with a slight grimace, "I'm getting tired of these kinds of movies...at this point, I could practically recite exactly what's going to happen next, line by line."

“What do you mean?” You laughed a little, smiling at him as he rolled his eyes in return.

“Let’s see…it’s either Noel, Carol, or some other Christmas themed name for the main girl, and she always moves back to a hometown or is divorced or lonely or just…wandering through life feeling like something’s missing. Meets a handsome guy, a handy man, a baker, someone she knew from her childhood, and they eventually fall in love after this big Christmas event happens.” Bucky muttered, “And there's always singing! That’s been the plot for the last three movies, I swear.”

"Sure," you responded with another laugh, he hit the nail on the head. You reached forward for the remote and scrolled through channels until you stumbled on one specifically for classic holiday films. "Oh my god, this one! It's from, like...1960." You watched, somewhat amused, as the distinctively vintage stop-motion animation showed Rudolph trudging through the snow, the character's movements charmingly stilted by today's standards. Your finger hovered over the remote button, ready to continue searching.

"No, no...don't change it," he interjected softly, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his voice, "I'd like to watch this one..."

"Really? Alright," you set the remote down and got comfy. These classic films held a special place in your heart, each frame bringing back cherished memories of curling up on the couch as a child, lost in the magic of storytelling and still believing in Santa Claus. "This used to be one of my favorites," you murmured softly, snuggling closer against him. Bucky lifted his right arm, eager to feel your heat against his bare chest. He hadn't experienced watching these movies the same as you had, his past denying him even these small comforts.

It wasn't like HYDRA allowed him a tv.

Watching it now, even without the foundation of the right nostalgia, he was drawn into the film's spell. There was something touching about its simplicity, the way it managed to weave enchantment through every scene despite its less sophisticated approach. Even with its fantastical storyline, it carried an authentic magic that resonated deep within him, something pure and genuine he could instinctively recognize. Much better than the movies he had seen all day.

The first movie seemed to float by in a comfortable haze, and before you knew it, another began to play. These old ones didn’t have a very long runtime, but you forgot just how quick they fly by. The Charlie Brown Christmas movie filled the screen with its familiar charm. The gentle orchestration of the score and soothing tone of the character’s voices set a comfortable mood in the room.

While the movie played, you felt a slight shift in weight beside you. You glanced over and noticed Bucky's empty mug resting forgotten in his lap, old white foam from melted marshmallows sticking to the rim, his features softened as his eyelids had finally drooped closed. His weight leaning more against yours, and you carefully adjusted yourself.

"Oh, Bucky..." you whispered tenderly to yourself, watching as the exhausted man finally succumbed to sleep, the warm hot chocolate having done its job exactly as you'd hoped it would. Gently, you removed the empty mug from where it rested precariously on his lap and eased him down into a more comfortable position, making sure his head was properly supported by the plush pillow beneath it. You then took your time meticulously arranging the thick blankets over his body, paying particular attention to his metal arm, ensuring it was completely covered.

The winter months were especially difficult for him, the cold made the connection points of his prosthetic ache terribly, so you made sure that every inch of the metal limb was thoroughly insulated against the chill.

Damn, you should really invest in a heated blanket…they were just so expensive.

You were determined to get one for him though.

After adjusting the television volume just a little to create a soft, ambient background noise, you settled yourself beside his sleeping form. You snuggled in close, your hand moving in slow, soothing strokes up and down the broad expanse of his back.

Even in the depths of sleep, he instinctively sought out your warmth, shifting closer until his face was buried against your chest, his arm wrapping around you in a secure embrace. Though the weight and coolness of the metal arm pressed against you was initially a bit uncomfortable since the henley rode up a bit, but you quickly adjusted. Vibranium was nice, once it warmed it would stay that way for a long time.

But the same vise versa, meaning you really should get a heated blanket soon.

For now, this would do. You'd be the heat he needed, even if it meant staying with him on the floor.

Thanks for reading. -em 🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest.

@buck-star 's Fluffy Winter Event.

#sydneysfluffywinter #fluff star winter event #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes x you #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #james barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #james barnes x you #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #emwrites🌿

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kyri45 · 4 months ago

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✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 16/10✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: i absolutely adore your shadowpeach bio-parents au comics they flow really nicely from post to post, and i looove the balance between angst & fluff i feel as if with shadowpeach, its always either angst or fluff- no inbetween, but somehow you've found a really nice mixture of both thanks for singlehandedly keeping me in the LMK fandom haha

Thank you! Fluff and angst keep going around each other like a microwave ahah

Anonimo ha chiesto: So like with mks monkey form does he have to deal with shedding during summer I think it would be funny if macaque and Mk got fluffier during winter. Wukong wouldn't complain about a fluffy macaque though probably like sleeping with the best plushy.

Oh man I think they do indeed haha. Pigsy would scold MK bc he keeps finding fur hair everywhere in the house

Anonimo ha chiesto: You seem like someone who knows a lot about the LMK fandom, so I must ask where does the idea of Princess Iron Fan and Macaque being sworn siblings come from? Like, is it from JTTW, and im just not aware of it, I'm still trying to learn as much as I can, and I need to actually read the book. The fact that people assume I know a lot about the fandom is so hilarious (not in a mocking way, I'm just very surprised) bc like- I watched the whole show in 1 day, speedwatched Overly sarcastic production recap of JTTW and read half of the book in a week. All of this in July. That's everything that I know from the fandom.

I think it's an headcanon. in JTTW Wukong, Macaque and DBK are all part of the brotherhood so.

Anonimo ha chiesto: First off I LOVE your comic but I have the animal autism and wanted to share some Monkey facts: monkeys don't sweat like humans do they mostly sweat on the palms and feet, areas they have no fur. For overheating monkeys mainly seek shade staying under trees , increase respiration (panting), seeking water sources. Also some species might shed for a thinner coat during summer. Sweating is an exclusively human thing and why humans have been so successful humans are persistent hunters. We would often follow herds for miles waiting for them to tire and overheat while sweating keeps us perfectly cool. Humans are also the only animal to blush. Lol Again no hate love the comic I love me some Flustered blushing gay monkeys. I just have the animal autism and wanted to info dump.

Thank you for the animal fact dump! Those were actually super interesting facts!

@draxeanlxia ha chiesto: Hey question that I have no idea if you already answered but how old is MK in your BIO Parents AU? I know people (usually) believe him to at least 18 due to China’s minimum driving age but others believe him to in his early 20s. Also Mac in your AU said was ‘grown ass man’ during the baby arc. So in your AU, how old is MK?

So. in the AU he's 21 y/o. Meaning that when he arrived to Pigsy door they saw him and went "yeah, he looks around 2/3" and from then they counted on. Buut there's also the thing that he looks a little younger than that age. I wont say anything else.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Who your Favorite Lmk character??

mmmmmmm... MK bc he's monkey now. Before season 4 probably Macaque or Wukong. But I have a "thing" for characters discovering they are actually a different species and slowly gaining new/different body features bc of that, so when I saw him flickering at the end of s4 I flew to a different universe. Literally the whole reason this AU exist is because I would die for this trope

Anonimo ha chiesto: What inspired your Human Wukong & Mac designs? Mostly because my brain looks at Macaque and thinks “Cranky middle aged pirate” meanwhile Wukong’s is “That chill gay uncle” (this is based off of purely looks by the way)

Macaque is drama queen so of course he would wear a trenchvoat during fall. plus he's old inside and outside bc of all Wukong bullshit. Wukong is your friendly neighbour who lives in a sketchy house and survives on peach sodas and chips (oh wait that's just canon Wukong.)

ainnur ha chiesto: You know I like how Wukong in your comic just compare something hot with Laozi's furnace. Like with spicy food and time he help MK created the weapon. Mk: You know Wukong you mention Laozi's furnace a lot. Must really tough 49 days for you... Wukong:Yeah worst 49 years *eating peach* Mk: Can tell- wait- years..? Wukong: Yeah a day at heaven is like one year here or so..Do the math, bud *continue to eat the peach* Mk:.... what..? Wukong just casually and accidently recall his trauma because he thought it never effect him like his other trauma. Also the brotherhood have 49 years to help him but they didn't do anything. "Yeah because normally you would rush into my rescue"

Thank you for giving me this traumatic info I didn't know about. Now I will never look at Wukong the same (why did my boy have to suffer so much)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Macaque: I think I'm in love with Wukong . . . Any thoughts. Chiyou: and prayers you're going to need them.

me too bitch, the fuck

@mirror-queen226 ha chiesto: I agree about the last ask you posted (about Wukong surely wearing a dress on a date), and I just couldn't help but say my own headcanon too (with a little bit of knowledge about the ancient times that Wukong was just a child on the jttw and lmk): I dunno if you agree but okay. Honestly, both Wukong and Mac/Mihou (like i usually call him) does not care about clothes, if they feel comfortable with them, be it for woman or man, they'll wear it, especially Wukong though, I feel like he'd act like a famous diva in a on a runway showcasing new high-class clothes from Victoria Secret, Channel, or something, whilst Mac is much more discreet but not too far from that too. And considering Wukong was wearing WOMAN clothes when he was in the brotherhood in the season 4 lmk flashback, it just made me believe in that headcanon even more :) Also, I am really loving your au, it's just so perfect the way you develop every character slow and patiently, keeping their personalities untouched, not changing but instead expanding and showing them a bit more, how they are really trying to improve (Wukong and Mihou in this case) and how satisfying it is to see. I always rush to see the new updates you post about the Biodads au every time i see too, and honestly, one of the 5 best au's ever, you draw so good too, it's adorable! That's all I wanted to say, have a nice day, drink water and take care of your health! 🥰🥰🥰

Yeah true! Like they are shapeshifter, they wouldn't care what species they are, even less the perceived gender norms

Anonimo ha chiesto: Little question, while the monkeys where at Chiyou's forge, shadowpeach where still sleeping together or not?

They were all sleeping in sleeping bags on the floor (but they all were close to each other.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Generally curious what you think would have happened if MK had not been woken up and the stone wasn't broken what do you think would have happen. would he had grown up on FFM?

Aww he probably would have been raised by Wukong. I don't know if that's a good or bad thing.

@wolfsonic ha chiesto: I have question! Does Rumble and Sabage have sentience in your stories? Like, do they have their own personalities like MK clones do? If yes, what do they think of WuKong and MK? Also, will we see more of them? Cause I'd love Mk to meet them when he wasn't stuck as a cub and not remember.

Yeah I think they have a littel bit of personalities. They like both MK and Wukong, but would also do prank on him.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I think I won't say I'm in love from Hercules fits macaque very well

The little monkeys are the muse doing backup choir

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can we see what a courtnapping room typically looks like?

Courtnapping rooms are made specifically for the courted one, so they are all different. Basically, the room should include everything the courted person would need to live comfortable and also a collection of things they like / to pass the time /love.

It must show that the person courtnapping them is able to provide, care and protect for them. And also knows what makes them happy.

So it can be a huge castle full of jewerly and elegant clothes/ornaments or just a cozy room with some chips and video games.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Is LBD going to be a topic in your au again ?

maybe

@wolfasketch ha chiesto: We need MK interacting with his new found Auntie and Uncle please(we also new to see Red being flustered by MK while his parents are around and PIF being like "Ooohhhh")

We are VERY luky Red Son and MK didn't grew up together or we would have thier parents playing love-matching with them while they are toodlers

Anonimo ha chiesto: could we possibly get a traffic light trio and shadopeach grooming train at some point, i would love to see some bonding time between them all <3 and i would love to see mk grooming redsons hair since there's so much of it

Wait who would be the second person to be groomed? I assume RedSon hair are too hot to touch. (when he's flustered, at least)

Anonimo ha chiesto: So like how does Redsons hair/ fire work. Does it just feel warm to MK and Mei. Will it only burn/ hurt you if he doesn't trust you. Another note it must be nice having two fire demon friends during winter.

I think when he's relaxed, the hair is just- a little bit warm, then with his feelings and emotion it can go up to a bigillion degrees, so it's not harmful as long as he can control it.

#ask box #shadowpeach bio parents au

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sungbeam · 9 months ago

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nonidol!jung sungchan x f!reader

at some point beneath the glittering summer sun and along evening tides, you and sungchan tripped over the line drawn in the sand.

▷ genre, warnings. brother's best friend!au, friends-ish 2 lovers, family vacay + sungchan lol, swearing, kissing, fluff, humor, sungchan does go shirtless (it's a beach), mentions of food, mentions of alcohol; lee jeno, sohee, and anton r ur brothers! (so u have the lee last name but u "look more like ur mom"); barely proofread, also im sorry if this is boring my head has not been in the game for Months

▷ word count. 10.0k

DISCLAIMER: i DO NOT actively write for or stan riize; this is literally just a birthday present T-T so if dynamics/personalities aren't right, i literally don't know these guys 💀

a/n: happiest birthday to my beloved soulmate and wife @justalildumpling :')) i hope u like it <3

OFTEN when you came back home from work, your joints and muscles ached to the point you could barely stand, your hair felt gross on your head, and your eyes stung from dehydration and sleep deprivation. That was the toll of working closing shift at the restaurant you worked at, and had been working at, for the past several years.

It wasn't out of the ordinary to see the lights in the house still warm and bright when you got home either. Your family was a handful of night owls, not discounting yourself. They had witnessed you in this particular rat-nest dump of a state time and time again, which was why you didn't worry about looking like Death Incarnate.

“Hey.”

Your soul left your body.

Sitting on your living room couch was not a family member. Though, he might as well have been a part of it from how much you had been seeing him lately. Jung Sungchan was your older brother Jeno's best friend, but Sungchan was in your year rather than Jeno's. The two met via the high school soccer team and had been good friends since.

Years later, he was sitting on the living room couch, nearing one in the morning, his hair damp from a recent shower, T-shirt sleeves rolled up his shoulders, and his phone paused from the game he was playing. Your brain was too tired to even register the amount of muscle packed onto his arms (what the fuck—).

“Sorry, did I scare you?” He chuckled sheepishly, reaching up to ruffle his dark hair, grown out slightly.

“What are you doing here?” You blurted instead. Exhaustion meant that conventional politeness was completely defenestrated. It was one in the morning on a summer night… usually your older brother was out clubbing or drinking (not that you were any different, but you worked quite a bit more nights lately).

Sungchan's eyes danced up and down your form. “Jeno and I decided we're gonna pull an all-nighter for the road trip in—” He glanced over at his phone, “—seven hours and just knock out in the car. How was work?”

Road trip? Car ride? If you could just make it to the shower… “It was fine. Tiring,” you said with a sigh. You trudged over to the far side of the room, behind Sungchan, into the kitchen. You grabbed a cup to fill with water, then drained it down your throat just as fast as it had been filled.

With water in your body, your systems were finally coming back online. Road trip. Car ride. Your eyes widened. “Oh my god. I have to pack.”

“You haven't packed yet?” He queried, tone light and teasing as he watched the progression of your panic with amusement. “Even Jeno's packed.”

You sputtered back at him, “Quiet, you!”

Sungchan's warm laugh followed you out into the hallway and all the way to your room. You couldn't understand why your face felt so hot; you should have been too preoccupied to be embarrassed, after all.

You slammed your bedroom door shut, dragging a hand down your face. You couldn't believe Sungchan just saw your I-just-worked-for-eight-hours-in-customer-service face. Not even some of your closest friends had seen the aftermath of your night shifts at work yet.

Crazy.

It wasn't every family vacation where a plus-one was invited. Your family tried to set aside time for these trips just for the six of you, but this time was an exception. Somehow—you weren't a part of the delegations—Sungchan was invited on this summer's trip to the coast. Your mom mentioned offhandedly it was because Sungchan “was a nice boy,” or something to that effect. Your family rented out a cabin right along the beach for a week, and the lot of you were going to be stuck in the family minivan for a good eight hours together.

And if Sungchan was tagging along, that meant you were going to have to fight for the middle row seat or—

“Yn—you’re in the back with Sohee and Anton.”

You came to a screeching halt on your way out of the house, a bucket hat shielding your puffy eyes from the waking world, your duffle strapped over your shoulder. It was seven hours later—an ungodly eight in the morning. “What? Nuh-uh; I don't think so.”

Jeno stood only a few meters ahead of you by the door of the minivan, his hands primed on either side of his hips as if he was the self-proclaimed guardian of the car seating chart. “Well, I said so. Sungchan has longer legs than you—”

“Why don't you sit in the back then?” You shot back with a saccharine sweet smile. You were too tired for this shit.

Sungchan scratched the side of his head as he walked out of the house to stand by you and join the argument, his flip flops thwacking against the ground. “Uhh, I can sit in the back middle seat. It's cool, dude.”

“Sungchan's too tall for the middle seat,” your dad interjected. He took yours and Sungchan's bags to add to the trunk. “Yn's in the back. Sorry, hon.”

“Dad,” you groaned.

“You can switch with Jeno half way.”

“Dad!” Jeno squawked this time.

Your father gave a tired sigh, saying more than he would ever say aloud. “Everyone in the car. Can't you two be like Sohee and Anton? At least they're knocked out.”

“They know they'll be sent to the back without question,” you pointed out as you made your way to the minivan. As you passed by your brother, you sent him a very potent stink eye, then clambered into the back row.

Like your father had said, your younger brothers, Sohee and Anton, were already dead asleep. Their mouths hung open wide enough to catch any wayward fly with their heads angled back against their neck pillows. You snorted and snapped a photo of them to add to your collection of brotherly blackmail.

Your mom was settled into the front passenger seat already queuing up driving directions to get to the coast. From your perch in the middle, you had a clear view of her phone screen—seven hours and two minutes. Yay.

You supposed there wasn't anything too terrible about the middle seat; you were out like a light as soon as the car pulled out of the driveway.

When you woke up, it was about four hours later, and your parents were having a hushed discussion amongst themselves and Sungchan. A baseball cap had materialized on top of Sungchan's head at some point when you were asleep, and the sleeves of his T-shirt were once again rolled up to expose his muscled shoulders. Did this guy not have a tank top?

“...I like it, at least—well, I don't mind all the extra requirements, and I know it'll help me reach my ultimate end goal, so.”

Your mom let out a hum of approval. “Ah, that's good that you like it. You'll be busy as a nurse.”

Right, Sungchan was in the nursing program. Your brother wasa kinesiology major, and you were going into law. It made for quite the diverse pool in the car.

You opened your mouth in a yawn and fumbled your hand around your lap for where your earbud had fallen out of your ear, carefully so that you didn't shake off Anton's head on your shoulder. (Oh no, was he drooling?)

“Yn-ah, good morning,” your mother teased quietly.

You glanced up, eyes going wide when you realized both your mom and Sungchan were now peering back at you. “Morning,” you murmured. Your fingers enclosed around your fallen earbud to tuck it into the case left in the bag at your feet.

“Sleep well?” Sungchan piped up. There was that twinkle in his eyes, the same one from last night. It made your stomach twist in a way that was more pleasant than not.

You cleared your throat, unconsciously reaching up to adjust the placement of your bucket hat and praying you didn't look like a sewer rat. “For the most part,” you replied. “How about you?”

He shrugged. “I had a decent power nap. Your mom says you're going into law. That's really cool.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Thanks. And you're in nursing, right? That's cool, too—super admirable.”

Sungchan's mouth widened into a small grin. “Thanks. It's only our first year, but it feels like so much work already.”

“Right? Tell me about it…”

Less than fifteen minutes later, the family van pulled into the parking lot of a diner off the interstate, exactly halfway through your journey. The seven of you, weary and hungry, filed out of the vehicle and into the establishment. You and your parents slid into one booth, while your brothers and Sungchan occupied the one behind you.

There was a low-spun fan swirling above your heads, an 80s song you vaguely recognized wafting through the air at a dull decibel. Your phone was stashed away in the bag tucked into your end of the booth seat while you idly sipped on your glass of iced water.

You jolted at the feeling of something light hitting the back of your head.

A gasp from behind you.

You rolled your eyes, twisting around in your seat while picking the wadded up straw wrapper from your hair. “Who did it?” You deadpanned.

The boys table was filled with sheepish expressions, to their credit. Your younger brothers, who were sitting on the far side facing you, thrusted their fingers in each other's faces in a torrent of blame and accusation.

“Aish, never mind. I don't care who did it,” you dismissed. Your eyes caught onto Sungchan's. He sat just diagonally to your left and for some reason, his eyes on you made you feel warm.

You flicked the wrapper back; it hit Anton square in the forehead. Jeno barked out a laugh.

“Nice shot,” Sungchan nodded, extending his fist to you.

You couldn't suppress the smile from coming onto your face as you bumped his fist with yours.

Food arrived swiftly afterward, and it was demolished as quickly as it came. In the sway of a palm tree frond, the seven of you were back in the confines of the family minivan.

The remainder of the car ride carried over quickly. Though Jeno unhappily sat his ass down in your previous spot with you claiming his from before, he and your other brothers snored away five minutes in. You didn't go back to sleep despite having a full belly and less than five hours of sleep under your belt; you watched the world pass by outside the window in a blur.

Urban skylines melted into rolling emerald mountains and pastures, sank into palm trees and sandy shores that met a blue horizon as far as the eye could see.

The beach house your family rented this year was a two story cottage-type. It was small, with only one bedroom and bathroom upstairs, a bathroom downstairs, and a living room and kitchen. The rest was all beach. It was determined that you and your mom would be given the honors of the upstairs bedroom and bathroom, while all the boys piled into the living room.

Once everyone was settled in, there was little else to do but go make use of your new backyard for the next week.

“Yn! Come on, slowpoke!” Sohee shouted at you from the shoreline with cupped hands. You saw his bare back as he splashed into the waves after Anton, who was already only a speck in your vision.

Your bare feet sank into the sand, and you wiggled your toes between the warm grains. Sunshine, glorious and concentrated above the distant horizon, soaked into your skin. Ah, this was the life.

Just as you reached for the hem of your shirt to reveal your bathing suit, you caught movement from the corner of your eye. Jeno and Sungchan were coming onto the beach from the front of the house, a disassembled volleyball net hanging between them.

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head at the sight of Sungchan's back—

Before Jeno or any of your other brothers or Sungchan could catch you ogling, you gave yourself a nice, mental slap to the face. No more. You needed to stop this. When did you ever look at Sungchan like this?

(You could still remember when he was the gangly kid with the growth spurt trying out for the high school soccer team. He was paired with Jeno to test his potential, and the rest was history.)

Sungchan was the first to spot you as he and Jeno determined a place to set up the net. He beamed boyishly, his chin inclining toward you. “Hey, wanna play?”

Your eyes flickered to the corded necklace hanging from his collar and between his—Yn, shut the fuck up. “Sure,” you said simply, feigning nonchalance.

If he noticed your wandering eyes, he didn't comment. Instead, he nodded back at you. “Sick.”

You both turned back to your original tasks. Your hands went back to the bottom hem of your shirt to tug it up and off your body. (Maybe you weren't the only one with wandering eyes, though.)

You draped your clothes over the back porch railing and began making your way down to the shoreline. “I'm gonna take a dip and then come back up!” You said to Jeno and Sungchan.

“Oh, okay—ow!”

You didn't see nor hear what happened, but when you glanced back, Sungchan had his back turned to you as he furiously rubbed the back of his head, while Jeno smiled innocently.

Your older brother waved you along. “Carry on!” He said.

Walking backward for a couple steps, you shot him an incredulous look, then turned around to meet your little brothers in the ocean. Whatever.

You had been staring at the wooden ceiling above your head for the past forty-five minutes. Your mom's even breathing and the ocean waves rolling outside the window failed to rock you into unconsciousness. You'd figured the sunlight from this afternoon would have made you tired, or perhaps all the food you ate for dinner, but your eyes continued to stay wide open.

A quiet sigh fell from your mouth as you rolled over onto your side and gently peeled the covers off. With near silent footsteps across the oak floors, you slipped out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

The cacophony of combined snoring from all the men in the living room was comparable to the volume of the waves just outside.

You barely contained your snort of amusement. You didn't worry about waking any of them up as you crossed the living room, full of a smorgasbord of limbs and bodies draped across the large couch sectional and blankets on the floor.

The back door was left unlatched when you reached its threshold. Outside, moonlight dappled across the calm sea like a sprinkling of diamonds. You slowly pried the door open, freezing.

You and Sungchan made eye contact from across the back porch. He was perched on the top step, nursing a bottle of beer in his hand. A loose breeze wafted through the strands of his hair.

“Sorry,” you whispered, moving to retreat back into the house.

“Oh, no—please.” He patted the empty space next to him on the porch step.

You blinked, at odds. He was clearly out here for a reason and you'd figured he wanted some space, but if he was inviting you, then…

You closed the back door behind you and settled beside him, with a comfortable amount of negative space between your bodies. You folded your arms over the tops of your knees and stared out at the midnight horizon. It smelled of salt and sea spray, and the light wind was a refreshing crispiness against the humid evening air.

“Couldn't sleep?” He murmured, glancing over at you.

You nodded. “Yeah. You?”

He hummed in response.

“I'm not surprised,” you said. The corners of your lips curled upward. “I wouldn't be able to sleep amongst my brothers either. Their snoring could wake a bear.”

Sungchan sputtered out a laugh as his eyes crinkled upward and he pressed the back of his knuckles against his mouth. “I wasn't gonna say it, but…”

You shared a grin with him. “I will happily say it for you, dude.”

His eyes were stunning in this lighting. The moonlight hit his irises at an angle that made them shimmer like a shade of molten copper. He licked his lips, and you saw his eyes dart from your eyes, down a few inches, then further down to the beer bottle in his hands.

“Oh, uh,” he stammered, tipping the bottle nose in your direction, “want some? I thought the alcohol would help me sleep, but it's not looking awfully promising.”

For a split second, your heart leapt at the thought—your mouth pressed against the place his mouth had been, tasting the place he'd drunk from.

You dashed the thought from your mind. It couldn't have been so significant as your brain was making it out to be. You were probably just sleep deprived.

“Thanks,” you said while reaching across the gap to accept it from him. Judging by the weight, it was just about half full, and you took a light swig.

A drop of liquid dribbled out of the corner of your lips, and you swiped it with the pad of your thumb, sticking the finger into your mouth to suck it off. You passed the bottle back over to him, catching his eyes not looking at yours.

(The organ in your chest was no longer in your chest. Was it normal for your heart to make a home in your throat instead? Why did he look at you like that?)

“Any reason for not being able to sleep?” You asked him to break the silence. “I mean, besides the symphony my brothers and dad are conducting, of course.”

His eyes shuddered, as if breaking out of a trance. “Oh, uhm—nothing in particular, I guess. Maybe it's just from all the excitement. I think it's usually hard for me to sleep in new places.”

You bobbed your head in understanding. “No, I get that. It takes me a little to get used to new environments, too. I don't know how I would have survived if I was living in the dorms at uni and not at home.” The university you attended was a decent commute from your house, so living on campus was never something you gave much thought to. The idea of living independently appealed to you sometimes, but in general, you didn't have a ton of qualms against your circumstances now.

“For sure,” Sungchan whistled lowly. He contemplated the opening of his beer bottle, then took a gentle sip of its contents. “Have you made a lot of friends? I feel like it's a lot harder than people make it seem.”

You passed him a curious glance this time. “Some, but it's definitely not as easy as high school. You haven't made a lot of friends?”

“The soccer team, mainly,” he chuckled. “The occasional ally in my classes.”

You let out a bright laugh that made his smile widen. “'Ally?’” You parroted. “What a fun word to call classmates.”

“It's true!” He insisted, chuckling. “Some of these professors are evil, man. Competitive grades? Not a chance,” He scoffed. “We're all in this together, even if the curve is against us.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth to keep from being too loud, but the rolling waves likely covered your noise plenty. Your family were deep sleepers.

“I just figured that you meet lots of people,” you offered when your mirth died down to a giggle. You toed a pile of sand sitting on the last step of the porch. “Your socials are pretty active,” you said, “but I guess I shouldn't judge a book by its cover.”

“I could say the same about you, Miss Party Girl,” he smirked. “When are you gonna drag me to a rave?”

Heat raced up to your cheeks. “I've only been to one,” you said, rolling your eyes. He'd seen that post? First, the post-work daze, and now, the turnt raver? “I haven't gone to a party in a few weeks 'cause of finals anyway.”

Now that you thought about it, you'd been so busy as of late, you couldn't even count the amount of outings you'd declined on your two hands.

“Trust me, I get it.” He raised his hands in an act of surrender, his knees angling toward you. The negative space was suddenly a lot less negative.

Another tip of his beer bottle; it swapped hands once, twice more. The liquid dribbled smooth down your throat just as Sungchan knocked the rest back. The empty glass made a dull thunk sound as it hit the wooden porch to Sungchan's right.

“So what I'm getting,” you drawled, mimicking his position by angling your knees toward his. You felt your legs brush—the stimulus sent a jolt down your nerves that warned of addiction and tasted like the forbidden. “Is that you've never been to a rave before?”

Sungchan gave a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe I have.”

You mocked his shrug. “Maybe you have.”

“Or maybe it's just that I haven't gone with you yet.”

Even the waves seemed to quiet for a second. Your heartbeat stuttered in your chest, and you tied down the nervous laugh ready to bubble out of your mouth. You bit your lip and found yourself nodding. “We'd paint the town red, Jung Sungchan,” you murmured.

There it was again—that flicker of his gaze to some place you both knew crossed a line. It was the beer, was what you were telling yourself. It was the beer.

Seagulls surfed the ever-blue sky. Eternal summer could be thought of as a filter of golden, glittery gauze across one's already rose-colored glasses. But summer, truly, was the shade of Jung Sungchan's tank top peeling off his body as he sprinted down the sandbank after your brother, Anton.

You watched the fabric whip around in the salt breeze before settling into a heap where his footprint melted into the mineral grains. You were giving Sohee the sunscreen spritz-down up on the covered porch, while Jeno barreled down the bank after his friend and brother.

From behind you came the scratch of the back door sliding open. You and Sohee peered back to where your mom poked her head out.

She just barely caught her sunglasses in time as they slipped off her head. “Hey, your dad and I are heading out. Watch each other, okay?”

“Got it!” You and Sohee chirped.

One more nod from your mom, and then she was gone. Your parents were going to take a date into town, just the two of them. That left you and the boys here with the surf and sand—definitely not a terrible compromise. If you wanted, you could probably have the whole house to yourself, anyway. These guys could entertain themselves.

“Yn! Sohee!”

Jeno arced one arm up into the sky to beckon you down to the sea, only to get dragged underwater by his two comrades. You and Sohee harked out twin laughs as you watched Jeno fight for his life with limbs flailing and foam flying into the sky.

You patted Sohee's shoulder as you set the can of sunscreen onto the porch step. “Alrighty, you're good to go, bro.”

“Thanks—race you down!”

“Hey!” Your laughter echoed as you bolted down the sand after him to join the fun.

As your feet dug into the wet embankment, your palms made purchase against Sohee's shoulders to shove him into the water. A yelp leapt into the air, and you turned away to avoid getting hit in the face with the consequence of your prank.

“I'm so gonna get you for that!” Sohee spat water out of his mouth, a wicked grin pulling onto his lips.

“No, you're not, actually!”

You bolted—well, stomped, your way through the knee-deep water, furiously trying to get away from karma. Water yanked down on your limbs in a forceful coax to give into your punishment, but you were determined.

You could hear your brothers’ hollers of encouragement: “Get her, Sohee!” and “RUN, YN, RUN!”

Adrenaline pumped through your veins and you pushed your legs harder.

“I got her!” Wait, was that Sungchan?—

You suddenly felt a pair of hands on either side of your waist—you swore as your legs came out of the water and your world twisted.

“No, no, no, no, no!” You squawked, squirming wildly in Sungchan's arms as he scooped you into his hold like a bride. (NO. NOT LIKE A BRIDE. WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE A BRIDE?—) One arm cradled your back and the other under your knees, and he laughed—he chuckled—as you attempted to flip yourself out of his grasp.

“You're not getting out of this, party girl,” he said close to your ear.

For a heartbeat, you lost your breath at the rasp behind his words and the grin on his face. But a heartbeat was all he needed.

There was free fall, and then all sound muffled as cold water engulfed your body. You plugged your nose and screwed your eyes shut. You felt your ass hit the sand at the bottom in slow motion, before the air in your lungs began to lift you back up to the surface of the water.

You broke out with a gasp, hair flipping back as you furiously swiped your hands down your face to get the water out of your eyes. They stung like a bitch, but you could feel the rush of blood in your ears; it was thrilling.

A hand in your vision enclosed around yours.

“You asshole!” You scowled up at Sungchan from where you knelt, though it was half-hearted.

He beamed back at you boyishly with damp hair hanging in his eyes and water running down the crevices of his stomach like a goddamn system of canals. “You're a good sport, Yn.”

“I'm really not.”

You had the distinct pleasure of seeing the smile slip off his face before you used his grip on you to yank him into the water. You swallowed a good half pint of saltwater, but the revenge couldn't have been sweeter.

When Sungchan's head broke the surface, it was followed by a dog-like shake of his head. You laughed to turn away from the spray of water; Sungchan delighted at the sound.

Amusement still lingered on your lips as your eyes snagged on the piece of seaweed that made its home on his head. You didn't think twice about it before leaning closer to reach it.

You stepped forward, and—oh boy, was that a mistake.

You had a front row seat view of a droplet of water slipping down the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, and the cliff of his chin. You wrestled down a swallow, and pulled the seaweed off his head, flinging it into the water.

“You had, uhm, a little…”

“Right, thanks—”

You both flinched apart as a man-made wave of water crashed into your sides. “AMBUSH!” Your three brothers declared, springing up out of the water and parading a full-blown attack with all weapons firing.

You and Sungchan were swift to launch your own counterattack.

Merriment filled the summer air as much as saltwater embedded into your skin and eyes and mouth. You almost made the mistake of thinking your racing heart was just from the determination to beat your brothers, and not from the guy on your side of the war. The heat was getting to you and the sun was getting to him.

It was about an hour later that you found yourself lazing upon the slick and smooth plane of a surfboard. The ocean rocked you gently from beneath the board; it had been surprisingly calm all of today.

At some point, you and the boys established a truce in the Great Water War, mainly because your brothers were hungry and there was a big, juicy watermelon just begging to be cut open and devoured in the house.

Suffice to say, you let your brothers figure it out.

Your consciousness faded into the foreground of your mind as a distant sound of splashing neared. You peaked one eye open, lifting the rim of the hat up to see who dared to encroach upon your isle.

You could recognize Sungchan's mop of hair from a mile away, at this point. You couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing, but why did it have to be either?

He cropped up right beside you, pushing back his hair to keep the water out of his eyes. “Hi.”

A smile curled onto your lips, teasing. “Hi. Good swim?”

“Good nap?”

“As good as one can be on the open ocean,” you said, shifting the hat up so you could see him better, but keeping your face shaded. “I don't know how dolphins sleep with half their brain on.”

Sungchan's brows rocketed toward his hairline. “They sleep with half their brain on? Crazy.”

“I know. I can't even stay awake with half my brain on.”

You and he shared a laugh, and he set a palm on the board next to your body. “Aw, no,” he assured. “If you've got less than half a brain on at all times, then I've got one brain cell.”

“Joke's on you, half my brain is half a brain cell.”

He wrinkled his nose at you. Cute. “Sweetheart, hate to break it to you, but that's not how brain cells work.”

You nearly fell off the board. “Okay, Mr. Know-it-all, do tell.”

“I'm not about to talk about neurons on my vacation.”

You challenged him with a look. “Overruled, counselor. Answer the question.”

His mouth fell open in a stunned daze, and his reaction made you break face for a moment to laugh. He blinked. “I have to be really honest with you…” Sungchan carded a hand through his hair, then pressed his knuckles to his mouth. “That was really hot.”

Was it suddenly five degrees warmer out here?

If blood rushing in your ears was akin to the sound of waves crashing, there must have been one hell of a tsunami in your veins right now.

You sputtered a laugh. “You need to get out of the sun—”

“I'm sorry I said that aloud,” he grimaced sheepishly.

“Nurse? Nurse!—” You feigned raising your head up to look around for an imaginary nurse in the middle of the ocean. “Oh, right. You are the nurse.”

He groaned, tilting his head back and playfully punching your shoulder. “You're so—”

“Hot?”

You howled at the sight of his cheekbones blooming the color of ripe watermelon. “I'm kidding; I'm teasing!”

He sighed, smiling despite the pain etched onto his gorgeous features. “Never living that down, am I?”

You shifted your position to laying on your stomach now, your arms folded beneath your chin. Sungchan carefully turned the surfboard so the tip faced him, and you were trapped in his gaze, head-on. “It was cute,” you consoled.

“So you think I'm cute?” He cocked a brow.

“And you think I'm hot.”

He flicked water at you. “Aaand, there it is!”

You laughed again, delighted at the red lingering on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. God, he was fucking gorgeous.

A beat passed for a second. Something settled between the two of you, a thing you couldn't yet put a name on, but it had been there since last night. Or maybe it had been there longer, festering in the negative space between you until said space could become something of a memory.

You weren't sure why he was here—why he'd swum out here to meet you when his best friend was back at the beach house, gorging on watermelon and getting his ass handed to him in Mario Kart by his siblings; why he all of a sudden occupied a part of your mind like the tide creeping up the embankment at four in the afternoon. At first, he was far enough for you to settle into a false sense of security; until all of a sudden, there he was, the foamy waves lapping at your feet and his smile the only thing you could see when you closed your eyes.

His tongue swiped over his lips and he cleared his throat. “So, uh, watermelon?” That was his original reason for coming out here. (He did volunteer, after all.)

You perked up. “Right, sure. Watermelon.”

“Great.” He broke into a smile, but the corners of it were softer, fonder. You could get used to the look of it.

There was this saying—the elephant in the room—but here in the cabin living room, it was definitely more of a blue whale. Just completely out of the water, weighing about thirteen tons, the size of twelve school buses… yeah, that sounded about right.

“GO FISH!” Anton flung his finger across the circle at Jeno with the glee of a kid on Christmas morning. “Suck it!”

Your mom sent an express glare his way. “Anton.”

Your youngest shrunk down sheepishly. “Sorry, eomma.”

The seven of you were settled in the living space this fine evening with a deck of cards. Your parents were on the couches watching the movie on screen and the game before them, while you, your brothers, and Sungchan huddled around the coffee table playing said game. Sunsoaked and weary, it only took one hearty and filling dinner to perk the lot of you right back up like a field of sunflowers.

“This is a stupid game,” Jeno sulked as he examined his hand of cards.

“You only say that because you're losing,” you pointed out. “Anyways, Jeno, can I have that three?”

Jeno cut you a glare as the rest of the table rolled into fits of laughter. Your smile was cheeky, reaching out to snatch the three Jeno revealed he had during his turn.

“That's cold,” Sohee snorted.

Your eyes darted over to Sungchan opposite you. His eyes were glimmering. “Yeah, I didn't know you had so much ruthlessness in you, Yn.”

“Why do you think she's going into law?” Jeno grunted. Though one card less, it meant that he had one less pair in his finished pile. At this rate, you might win and end up with the most pairs.

“Guys, it's literally just how you play the game.” You nodded over at Sohee. “Sohee, do you have a jack?”

Your younger brother handed it over without ceremony. “Unfortunately.”

“Anton, do you have an ace?”

He shook his head. “Go fish, noona.”

“See?” You said to the rest of the table, but your eyes went to Sungchan's. “The nature of the game.”

They let you off the hook because you didn't plunder everyone of their cards this round. It continued on with Sohee, then Anton, before landing on Sungchan.

He made a show of considering his cards, a furrow between his brows. He glanced up at you over the rim of his hand and gestured with a curl of his fingers. “I'd like that ace, Yn.”

“Oooh,” Anton giggled.

Jeno grinned as you extended the ace across the table to Sungchan. “Karma.”

“Thank you—” his fingers grazed against yours as he plucked the card from your grasp, “—very much.”

You pressed your lips into a small smile, nose wrinkling up at him. You had a few cards left to rid yourself of.

Your dad cleared his throat as he stood up from the couch to bring his empty bowl to the sink. “By the way, are you kids still going into town tomorrow?”

The five of you exchanged brief eye contact with one another. “Yep.”

The idea had come up during dinner after your parents came back. They'd mentioned a variety of activities and little shops to visit that might be fun for you to see, including a hand churned ice cream shop and a port side arcade building. It would just be the five of you going, while your parents would walk down to the beach trails about a mile from the cabin to go hiking.

In the morning, you and everyone else in the house took your time getting up and ready for the day. Breakfast was taken together at the table before you split off into your separate parties.

Jeno took the wheel with Sungchan riding shotgun, and you sat in the middle row with Sohee, while Anton occupied the back. You rolled down your window to rest your chin on the fold of your elbow, your sunglasses slipping down the bridge of your nose as you watched the scenery pass by.

Right in front of you, Sungchan also had his window rolled down with his arm propped on the lowered sill. He chatted animatedly with Jeno about whatever game he and all three of your brothers were playing this morning, but you could feel his gaze go to his side view mirror more than once.

The ride was an easy, breezy one.

The main town center bustled with locals and visitors alike in the late morning. Jeno found free parking about a block away, and the five of you walked over as one big group.

“Ice cream first!” Anton declared with one arm raised toward the sky.

“I concur,” you chimed in. You lifted your sunglasses up slightly so you could read the town directory easier. “Seems like we're close by.”

Anton nodded in approval. “Onwards, then.”

You and your youngest brother led the way. The idea of ice cream made your mouth water, especially since you could already feel a bead of sweat dribble down your spine. Why was it so goddamn hot?

The shop was a cute, little building with a pink and white striped awning and a large window in the front that gave visitors a front row view into the ice cream churning experience. You snorted as Anton pressed his nose up against the glass, a wide grin splitting his face.

“You're scaring the workers, dude,” you jested, tugging your brother along.

Anton scrunched his nose up at you. “You scare me every morning.”

“Just because you're a wimp when I put toner pads on—hey! Do you want ice cream or not?” You cackled as he attempted to flick you square in the forehead.

Jeno groaned. “Guys, can we please act normal for once?” He asked as he swung the door open for everyone.

Sungchan beat you to the punchline, slapping his friend on the back while he ducked inside. “That's rich coming from you, man.”

“Hey!”

The squabble was swiftly swept out of your mind when you stepped foot into the shop. You were nearly knocked over from the potency of the sugary waffle cone scent that occupied the room. At the sight of tubs upon tubs of frozen treats kept within the display case, your entire face lit up, eyes going glassy with wonder. “Oh no, too many to choose from,” you gasped, cupping the lower half of your face.

Sungchan chuckled beside you as he crossed his arms and assessed the dozen options before you. “I didn't know you were such an ice cream fanatic, party girl,” he mused. He glanced over at you with a fond sort of gleam in his eye.

“Don't even get her started,” Sohee groaned. “She and Anton have a sweet tooth to rival Willy Wonka.”

Anton flagged down one of the workers, having already found his targets to try. He was in here for less than two minutes and was already rattling off the entire menu to the poor girl behind the counter.

“Tiramisu sounds really good,” you muttered. Your eyes moved slowly from tub to tub. Another gasp flew from your lips, and you clasped a hand on Sungchan's shoulder. “Wait—but strawberry shortcake—hhhhh.” You wrinkled your brows together, lips pressed into a taut line.

This was not good.

“You could always get a double scoop,” Sungchan suggested.

You bobbed your head. “That's true, but I'm just worried I won't be able to finish, y'know.”

“Well, maybe I'll get one of the flavors you want and we can split.” His shrug was all too casual.

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, biting his lip through a smile.

The organ in your chest gave a hop, skip, and a leap. You weren't sure if it was at the thought of it all working out alright or if it was because of Sungchan's generous gesture. You were telling yourself it was the former, but you could be persuaded it was the latter if given a light shove in that direction.

When everyone's scoops were paid for, you fell into a loose formation to stroll around town while you finished your treats.

You and Sungchan were glued to each other's sides out of necessity since you were sharing flavors. Jeno walked on his other side, however, lapping at his cotton candy blue scoop seated upon a throne of waffle cone. The two youngest walked in front, leading you all to wherever they wished to go.

The town itself was rather quaint when you finally soaked it in. It seemed like the kind of place everyone knew everyone, and if you were new or only visiting, the locals were just as friendly and welcoming. The town center was stocked with anything a resident might need—a small grocer down the street, clothing stores and restaurants lining the boulevard, a newspaper stand at the corner, a laundromat, a hardware store, and more places you were certain you wouldn't be able to see in just one walk.

As you scooped a bite out of some of the last bits of tiramisu in Sungchan's cup, Jeno was summoned up to his brothers who were debating over which way they should turn next. You and Sungchan lingered behind to finish off the ice cream in your respective cups.

Just as you slurped up the melted shortcake ice cream at the bottom of yours, your eyes caught onto a storefront behind Sungchan. It was decked out in cliché boho-chic, with braided nets, shells, and sand dollars in the window and over the door frame. The souvenir shop seemed to embody the quintessential tourist trap, and you didn't mind falling into it.

“—guys, we're gonna go to the arcade now!” Jeno said, beckoning you and Sungchan over. They must have decided on a route then.

You made your decision. “You guys can go ahead! I'm gonna pop into this place for a second. I promised I'd get my friend Minjeong something.” Minjeong was one of the few close friends you made at university, and though you didn't promise to her face you'd get her something, you were determined to get her a little trinket as a token of your affection.

“You're gonna go alone?”

You blinked. “Yeah, I'll just meet you guys at the arcade.”

Sohee piped up, “But mom said buddy system.” Okay, you should probably honor that, but it wasn't as if the four of you always followed that rule.

“I'll go with you.”

All eyes went to Sungchan who tossed his empty cup and spoon into the nearby trash can. He gave a nonchalant lift of his shoulders. “I wanted to get my mom something anyway.”

You tilted your head to the side curiously as Jeno narrowed his eyes at Sungchan, like they were communicating telepathically. Odd.

In fact, you didn't really know what to think about being alone with Sungchan. There was a difference between coincidentally ending up on the porch together or conversing in the ocean away from everyone else, to purposefully breaking off from the group to spend time with each other.

Then again, he said he was getting something for his mom. That gave a different implication to him volunteering to accompany you. The goal was capitalism, not something forbidden.

Maybe you were thinking about this too much.

“Okay, fine,” Jeno relented. “We'll meet you at the arcade, but don't take too long or we'll leave without you.”

“Aye-aye,” you teased, raising a hand to wave goodbye to your brothers. “C'mon, Sungchan.”

You dumped your empty ice cream cup and spoon into the trash before slipping inside the souvenir shop with Sungchan following right after you. You lifted your sunglasses up on top of your head, skin prickling with gooseflesh from the draft of air conditioning wafting overhead. A soft-toned acoustic played in the background, accompanied by the cheery greeting of a staff member from behind the register.

You and Sungchan lifted your hands in warm reply, then disappeared into the aisles to explore.

Your fingers grazed along the racks of clothes branded with the beach town's name and minimalist artwork; your eyes roamed over the ships displayed in bottles on the walls, the not-for-sale surfboard hung for decor. Like many souvenir shops, there were several turning displays that boasted rows upon rows of themed keychains with specific names engraved into them.

“I will never find my name amongst these,” Sungchan mused quietly from beside you as the two of you rifled through the surfboards and seashells and sharks. “And yet, I look for the S names all the time.”

“Valid,” you nodded. “Sometimes I can't find my name either, but it's the hope that gets you.”

“And fails you,” he pointed out.

“Touché.”

Near the keychain displays stood a tower of hats and head accessories galore. There were crocheted bonnets, straw hats, ball caps, and even headbands. Your expression glittered as you plucked up a headband with twin sunflowers on the top like a pair of antennas.

After hanging your shades on your shirt color, you donned the headpiece, twirling around to show Sungchan. “Thoughts?” You asked, failing to sweep your grin away.

Sungchan beamed back at you. “Oh, you're too cute.”

You ignored the heat creeping up the back of your neck to reach for another headband—this time, one topped with red crab claws. Sungchan graciously bowed his head for you to crown him with the piece.

“Fabulous,” you declared with your hands on your hips.

He peered into the small mirror to the side of the hat rack. “You think?”

“Of course.” So much so, that you pulled out your phone to snap a picture. You tilted your head toward his to fit both of your faces and headbands in the frame.

Sungchan peered over your shoulder to take a glimpse at the photos. His tongue was jammed into his cheek, and you could feel his breath along the shell of your ear. “Send me those?”

“I'd need your number first.”

He grinned boyishly, roughing a hand through his hair before taking your phone from you. “You don't even have to ask.”

As he saved his contact information into your phone, you attempted to calm the giddy butterflies in your stomach by peering back into the mirror at the headband on your head. You squished the plush sunflower heads with your fingers, humming thoughtfully. “I low-key wanna buy this.”

He glanced up from your phone before handing it back to you. “If you buy that one, I'll buy this one,” he replied, pointing up at the crab claws on his head.

“You're such an enabler,” you jested. A beat passed. “Okay, but only if you get it with me.”

“That is what I said,” he chuckled, eyebrows arched.

The remainder of the time you and Sungchan spent in the shop was mainly to figure out what you would purchase for Minjeong and what Sungchan would buy for his mom. (Mainly, implying that there was still room for shenanigans.) It took a little more than half an hour, but you both emerged from the souvenir shop with a gift bag each, containing your headbands and the baubles bought.

The arcade was only about a ten minute's walk from your location, so you and Sungchan took your sweet time getting there. As the two of you walked—the backs of your hands grazing against one another, shoulders bumping—you nearly forgot that Sungchan was your brother's good friend. Jeno had never made it a point that you and his friends should never mix, and you knew he could care less about your love life, but this was different. (Was it?) It felt like something that shouldn't happen, and yet, why were you starting to want it so badly?

The outside of the arcade was a cream colored building, much like the others in town, but with large posters on the outside beckoning guests to come in and try their hand. Your brothers texted you to let you know they were in a game of laser tag right now, so that gave you and Sungchan a little more time to yourselves within the arcade.

“I have an idea!” Sungchan grabbed your free hand and hauled you off toward something in the distance.

The feeling of your fingers slotting with his had more than just your steps skipping. “Hey, man—you and your long legs need to chill!” You hollered at him through a laugh.

He sent you a look over his shoulder before stopping at one corner of the arcade. With jazz hands, he presented his marvelous idea. “Ta-da!”

Before you was an all-time classic: Dance Dance Revolution.

Your eyes widened just as your smile did. “It's like you read my mind,” you marveled.

The machine was just like the movies with a multicolored screen of bright blues and purples, a platform with two sets of arrows in the floor, and two arched rails at the back for each player to hold onto as they danced the night away.

Sungchan marched up onto the platform and fished a wadded up paper bill out from his wallet. “Have you played before?”

When the machine devoured his money, the screen leapt to life and blasted its opening music to announce that somebody was willing to step up to the challenge.

You set your gift bag down at the foot of the platform and climbed up to join him. “I've only seen it done before, but I've always wanted to try it.”

You and he locked eyes, and you were sure the twinkle in his was a reflection of just how excited you were.

“Well, today is your lucky day, party girl,” he chirped. “Let's see what you've got.”

It didn't take long for you to figure out that “what you've got” was a lot less than whatever Sungchan had.

You grappled onto the railing behind you tightly as you stomped your feet against the coordinating arrows that flashed on-screen. How long had it been since that fateful first round? Ten minutes? Two days? It was all mashing together.

“This is unfair; you have longer limbs,” you groaned after missing a few arrows in a row. Why were you so out of breath?

A bead of sweat dribbled down the side of Sungchan's head. It was almost comical how serious you were both taking this game. “I have practice,” he corrected cheekily.

“Same difference!”

“A master never blames his tools.”

You huffed. “Bullshit.”

At this point, your losses were becoming ridiculous. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

For a sequence you knew you were going to miss, you leaned over and pinched his side. Sungchan jolted—it did the trick, and he missed the steps. His head whipped over to you, an impish gleam in his irises.

“Oh ho ho… you wanna play that game?”

You placed your hand on your hip as the round ended. “If I'm gonna lose, might as well go out with a bang.”

His tongue swiped over his lip. “You're on.”

The next round commenced, and adrenaline spiked through you like a spear, more powerful than before. You knew to expect Sungchan's revenge, but you struck first.

A poke at his side resulted in a tickle at your waist. You returned his parry with a blind poke at his stomach.

Anticipating his response, you spotted his arm incoming out of your periphery and moved to step out of his reach. Instead of solid platform, however, your breath hitched at the feeling of half your sandal slipping off the edge.

Sungchan's eyes went wide and his arm instead curled around your waist and hauled you to him. “Shit,” he muttered, “are you okay? Sorry, that was totally my fault.”

Your palms had landed on his chest, your heart rate slowing but not fast enough. All of the excitement in your veins was likely more so from the game itself, and not from almost falling off the platform… and perhaps, another part of it was you realizing just how close you and Sungchan were now.

You nodded. “Yeah, I'm completely fine; don't even worry about it. And it wasn't your fault—I miscalculated my step and I started it anyway.”

He pressed his lips together. “Still.”

“Nice catch, by the way,” you said quietly.

You saw his eyes leave your gaze, and this time, you followed in his movements. He ducked his head, almost shyly. “I guess so,” he chuckled. “I'm glad I caught you.”

If anything, your heartbeat was gaining speed again. The hand pressed into your waist was a little more addicting than you would have liked, and his mouth was closer than you thought it had been.

In the neon glow of the Dance Dance Revolution screen, you and Sungchan leaned toward one another with one aim, and one aim only.

“Hey guys!”

You leapt off the dance platform at the same time that Sungchan zipped to his side, gripping the railing with an expression akin to a deer caught in headlights.

You pressed a hand against your palpitating heart and turned to find all three of your brothers bounding over to where you and Sungchan were.

“Oh my god,” Anton gasped, “is that DDR?”

It seemed that Anton and Sohee were more focused on the game than yours and Sungchan's compromising position. But Jeno… you noted the suspicious narrowing of his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest…

You swore you and Sungchan swallowed at the same time.

“Did we interrupt something?” Jeno drawled.

“Nope!”

You and Sungchan looked at each other at your simultaneous answer. Great. That definitely wasn't even more conspicuous or anything.

Jeno pressed his lips together. “Uh-huh,” he said, unconvinced. “Well, Mom and Dad texted and asked for us to meet them at the house, so we've gotta go.” He lifted the screen of his phone up for you to see. Dear god, you hadn't even realized they'd texted the group chat.

You cleared your throat. “Right.”

You picked up your gift bag, and your younger brothers immediately flanked you on either side to gush about the game of laser tag they had just partaken in. Though you nodded and engaged in their conversation, your mind was elsewhere.

Plus, it was hard not to be hyper aware of the fact that Sungchan was now alone to face Jeno somewhere behind you. You were not looking forward to the car ride back.

There were always some, unspoken fine lines that should not be crossed—at least, purposefully. In retrospect, you knew Jeno didn't care about who you chose to spend your time with, as long as they treated you right. In the same vein, you didn't care much about what he thought when it came to your own decisions, and yet, you found yourself caring a little more because this was one of his friends. Not yours.

But feelings were feelings… and you were slowly coming to terms with yours.

It was like déjà vu when you crept down the stairs in the dead of night for the second time this vacation. You simply could not bear staring at that wooden ceiling any longer with your mind reeling from this afternoon's events.

The living room was yet again a cacophony of light snoring, and you crossed the room toward the back door once more.

You paused again, the sight of Sungchan's back a familiar one. Instead of sitting on the porch steps, though, he leaned against the railing, gazing out at the dark waves. It was yet another calm night out on the embankment, but the moon tonight was hidden away behind a few wisps of cirrus clouds.

He glanced over his shoulder at you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you greeted softly, gently closing the door behind you so you could join him at the railing. It was funny how you both were on the same wavelength. Fate had a funny way of encouraging you.

You and he hadn't properly spoken since the arcade, and Jeno hadn't said a word about it to you either. Dinner had gone on normally enough, so you were unsure of where this all stood.

“I wanted,” Sungchan began, “to talk to you about something.”

You glanced over at him and found his eyes already on you. “Sure, of course.”

He straightened, gesturing to the sandy beach beyond. “Walk with me?”

You nodded and followed him down the porch steps. Your feet met the cool grains of sand, and a sense of calm seeped into your bones from the bottom up.

A hand outstretched in your vision, uncertain. You clasped your hand in his palm, and the pair of you began to walk. You couldn't recall whether you began to adore the feeling of your hand wrapped up in his earlier or just now.

“So…” you trailed off.

“So,” he picked up. “About earlier today. I wanted to, uhm, make sure we were on the same page about something.”

He stopped you both when you were a good distance from the house, where the waves slipped along the sand louder than the snores.

“I had a really fun time with you today,” he said.

You nodded your head in earnest. “I had a great time with you, too.”

He smiled then, hand letting go of yours to drag over his face. “I'm—I’m happy to hear that,” he replied, and you were sure he was trying to hide his growing giddiness.

You reached over and gently pried his hands away from his face. “Did Jeno talk to you about today? Did he say anything?” Before he could reply, you added, “Because I know he means well, but who I choose to spend my time with is my decision. If he can't handle us together, then he'll have to learn to suck it up.”

“He did say something to me about it,” Sungchan admitted, “but it was just to make sure I wasn't playing around.” With his hands locked in yours, he gave your palms a reassuring squeeze. “And Yn, I'd like to take you out sometime—properly. No playing around.”

No more toeing the line in the sand.

Your heart rattled violently in your chest. “I'd really like that.”

His expression melted into something tender, like the dark swirls of molten chocolate in the scoop of tiramisu ice cream. His thumb grazed over the back of your hand. “Okay,” he murmured, barely audible over the soft laps of the waves, “good.”

He considered you for a moment longer, teeth digging into his bottom lip. “I also—I did intend on kissing you earlier today, and I probably should have prefaced it, but—mmmh!”

You looped your arms around his neck and pulled his mouth over to yours. He sank into your hold with a content hum, his hands slipping around your waist to tug you closer to him. You'd never really thought about what kissing Jung Sungchan would be like, but you knew that your imagination couldn't have been better than this.

When you broke apart with your foreheads pressed against each other and sharing breathing air, you let out a small laugh. The sound coaxed a warm chuckle out of your counterpart.

“Sorry,” you breathed against his lips, “I probably should have asked first.”

He smiled against you. “You can apologize by kissing me again.”

He most certainly didn't have to tell you twice.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! (idek if that was good, im off my Game and off my Rocker dkfnrj)

m.list

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#kflixnet #riize x reader #jung sungchan x reader #riize oneshots #riize imagines #riize fluff #riize scenarios #riize drabbles #sungchan oneshot #sungchan fluff #sungchan drabbles #sungchan imagines #sungchan scenarios

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shewhowas39 · 8 months ago

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a quick note on elven maturity

all right. time for another lore dump, brought to you by a big DnD fangirl.

so i see a lot of conversation around Astarion's age at the time of being turned (39 years old) and how, in DnD, that would make him a "child." this comes from rules and lore that state that elves can live to be about 750 years old (or older) and are considered adults at 100 years old. and i can absolutely see why that is confusing, but let me break it down a bit.

Elves reach physical maturity at the same age as humans, but after that point, their aging slows down tremendously. a 39 year old elf may be "considered a child" but has the physical maturity of a human in their 20s and mental maturity of a 39 year old human.

so let's talk about that "considered a child" business. this might be cleared up by adding the caveat "by other elves" at the end.

the distinction of "childhood" is cultural. because elves live so long, they see those under the age of 100 as youthful. think about it: if you had seen five hundred years of shit, you'd think an 80 year old was a sweet summer child, too. hell, i'm in my 30s and sometimes it's hard not to look at people in their early 20s as "kids" because we're just in such different places in our lives, even though they are legally adults.

even in the real world, maturity and adulthood are seen differently across cultures. different countries have different drinking ages, different ages for driving cars, different ages of consent. those standards may seem odd to an outsider, used to their own cultural norms, but every community is different.

elves don't just see other elves under age 100 as children. they see other races this way as well. high elves tend to view humans as immature - even in their old age - because 80 years to them is nothing.

i was a legal adult at 18, but 18 year old me didn't know half the shit 33 year old me does. and i'm sure 45 year old me will think 33 year old me was "young" by comparison.

now, i've seen some takes that Astarion might be lying about being a magistrate because he was "a child" and why would they make a child a magistrate? that argument might hold up in an elven dominated city, but Baldur's Gate is mostly human. by human standards, Astarion had the same mental capacity as any other 39 year old man.

Astarion, at age 39, may have been seen as a "child" by other high elves, but this isn't literal. it merely means he had yet to reach a major cultural milestone of a very, very long lived race. a milestone even the most elderly of humans likely will never reach.

would you call an 80 year old human a child? no. but a high elf very well might see them that way. not in the physical sense, but in a "oh to be young and naive and know less of the world than I do" sense. the way that we all inevitably look at those a decade younger than us, even though they are adults, and see their youth in comparison to our own.

it's 5am here and i'm babbling. the point is, the "child" bit of elven lore in DnD is confusing, i get it. but it's purely cultural. in Baldur's Gate, a city primarily run by humans, Astarion was not seen as a child by most. he was a grown man. he had the mental maturity of a 39 year old man. the only people who would have seen him as a child are other, older high elves (mostly those who grew up in a place like Evermeet) and maybe elders of other races - even humans - who were like "oh, to be 39 again!" (lol, me the day i turn 40 probably.)

tl;dr elves in dnd are not LITERALLY children until they turn 100. it's an elven culture thing, similar to how in real life different cultures have different standards for things like driving, drinking, joining the army, and age of consent.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #dnd #dungeons and dragons #forgotten realms lore #baldur's gate 3 #dnd lore

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romanarose · 2 months ago

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Safe With Me

Eddie Brock x fem!reader (Some Venom x reader)

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Summary: You open up to Eddie about being sexually assaulted. He takes care of it.

Warnings: mentions of past sexual violence. Actually literal violence lol but its okay because he's a bad guy. talking about how hard it is to report and victim blaming.

dividers by @kodaswrld

************

Eddie held you close on the couch, letting you tell you're story the way you wanted to. You sat straddled on his lap, resting your head on his shoulder because you said this made you feel extra safe. Like he was all around you. Sometimes, if things were extra rough, venom would come out like a blanket of sorts around you, wrapping you up in his warmth. Today, you thought it might be overwhelming.

Eddie knew something had happened to you, the way you were skiddish when you first started dating. And not that he was complaining, but it was a little odd to wait 2 months to have sex. Still, that was your choice and you were worth waiting.

He wasn't an idiot, he could read the signs in your behavior, so he made sure you're first time together was filled with the most explicate consent you could dream of, and was always conscious of your non-verbal ques in bed. Eddie liked to think he was always the kind of guy to pay attention to that, but with you, he was extra certain.

As he got to know you, you made passing references of a bad past, and he let you know he was ready to listen when you were ready to talk, but you were a private person and wanted to wait. You and him talked about exes, and nothing stood out.

Finally, a few months in, you and him were having a movie night. Rewatching your favorite Disney princess movie Eddie was nice enough to indulge you in and Venom was thoroughly enjoying, when you pause it.

"Can I talk to you?"

At first Eddie thought you were about to dump him, but when you looked at him with sad eyes, he knew it was something more serious.

You sniffle against his wet sleeve. "That's it, I guess..." You said as you finish telling the story. "I know, *sniff* i should've reported it but... I dunno this was when 50 Shades was coming out and I was afraid he'd say I just liked it r-rough..." A fresh little bought of tears come, and Eddie is quick to rub your back in comfort.

"Ah, shit, hey now... I know it ain't like that..." He presses a gentle kiss to your hair. "We believe you, baby. Trust me, I'm not tryna scare no one away from reporting, but man... it can be fucking brutal."

You nod against him. "And, and I was just barely having sex, you know? The idea of a stranger doing the rape kit, having to tell a hundred different people what happened knowing they don't believe me... and I couldn't really prove I'd said no... and god, having to tell my parents?!?! I couldn't do it Eddie! i just couldn't do it!"

"Shhhh, shhhh... it's okay, I know, I know... you made the best choice for yourself."

You sit up, rubbing your red and puffy eyes. "Now I see colleges have this thing, well, some of them, the You Have Options Program where you can report and choose the level. Like if you want to report but not press charges, or you aren't sure if you want to press charges but they can gather evidence... or maybe you just want something on record incase they offend again, you know?"

"That's good, that's real good baby. i think they'll help a lot of people." As a journalist, Eddie had reported on many rape cases, or times people had tried to cover up sexual abuse of different kinds. he'd seen many young girls crying, expressing the same feelings you had. He knew better than to say 'it's not your fault' even if he still had the urge. Instead, he thumbed away a tear as you looked down at him. "We believe you, we don't think any differently of you, okay? We're here to help you."

You smile at him, fondness in your eyes. "Thanks for listening, Edide. And Venom." You lean down and give him a chaste kiss on his plush lips. "I love you."

"I love you too."

The next day...

Eddie is furiously typing on his laptop while you're at work.

"Okay, so she said college, he went to college with her."

Venom excitedly shouts out the name of your old school, happy he remembered, but Eddie shook his head, frustrated. "That's a big fucking school buddy, we need to narrow this down." he pulled up school records. "She said they were in theater, right?"

"YES! AND HE WAS IN HER SPANSIH CLASS!"

"Right! Fuck yeah! and she took Spanish her freshman year because she wanted to 'get it out of the way'. Okay I can narrow down the year, look up students who took Spanish that semester... then i just gott pull up the theater pamphlet... she said he was an actor... alright, now we just gotta cross reference the names of people who acted in that production with spanish class students..."

10 minutes later they had a match.

Pulling him up, he matched the description of the student to a T. He would have a senior at the time, same hair, skin tone, facial features...

"Now, we just gotta find him."

That didn't take long either. Eddie was able to find everything he needed. His job, his home address, everything was right there.

That night, he gave you a little kiss on the forehead as he left for the night. He told you he had something to investigate for work, and you didn't ask any questions.

"And you're sure you don't wanna come over after you're done?" You give him a pout. He hated to leave you alone, everything you'd trusted him with made him just want to watch over you all the time... but who knew how messy this would get?

"I might be out late baby, i don't wanna wake yuh at 4 am. I'll bring you lunch tomorrow, how 'bout that?"

that makes you smile. Food usually did.

"Okay. Lunch tomorrow it is."

The house was way too nice for someone like him, someone who hurt innocent younger girls. He was a corporate executive too, and Eddie was sickened to find he'd had a string of bad luck keeping assistants and interns, no doubt preying on more vulnerable young girls, using his power to keep them complacent. Men like that never changed. He wasn't gonna feel bad.

The light turned on the the living kitchen, revealing where Eddie sat drinking his expensive whiskey.

"Your security is shit, man."

He looked shocked, dropping his briefcase and freezing in fear. Eddie figured its not often he's the powerless one. He was going to let him cook in his adrenalin.

"Whatever you want, you can have it."

But Eddie just shook his head, standing up. "I don't want nothing here but you."

"i have-"

Eddie interrupted him with your name, "Remember her? Freshman girl you raped in college? Or does that not narrow it down enough?"

He chuckled nervously, raising his hands and backing up. "Listen man, you her husband? i don't know what she told you, but i swear to god she wanted it."

"Shut the hell up."

"Begged me for it!"

"Oh yeah? That why she had a black eye and a busted lip after?"

"Hey," he shrugged, trying to play it cool like he wasn't about to dash for the door. "What can I say, she liked it rou-" His words turned into a scream as Venom took over the body, biting off his head before he could say another word about you.

Eddie's face popped from behind the goo. "Venom! i had a whole speech planned!"

"TOO LATE! I was tired of him talking!"

He rolled his eyes but hey, what could he do about it now? Nothing. At least the asshole was dead, couldn't hurt anymore women.

The next day, at lunch time...

Baby <3: Meet me at my place, I went home early.

Eddie Boo: Everything okay?

Baby <3: Just come please?

When Eddie let himself into you're apartment to find you sitting on the couch with your arms crossed, eyes wet.

"baby, are you oke-"

"Do you want to explain to me why, a few days after I tell you I was raped, he ends up dead with his head ripped off?"

Eddie blinked. "Uhhhh.... coincidence?"

You stand, walking over to him. "Venom, got anything to say to me?"

Venoms head popped out behind Eddie. "WE ARE NOT SORRY AND HE TASTED DELICIOUS!"

"Venom!" You gently flick him. "Eddie, why would you do that?"

"Ahhh, come on baby, you know he deserved it! I'm not gonna apoligize for killing a rapist, and i don't feel bad!"

Eddie watched your face soften, lip quivering a bit. "I know. I know he deserved it I just... it's just a lot, right now..."

"Ohhh baby...." Eddie took you into his arms as you began to cry again. "Do you feel guilty? Is that it? Cause this was all me, nothing to do with you."

You sob into his strong chest. "I can't believe you love me this much."

His heart almost broke at that. "Of course I do! baby, don't you know we'd do anything for you? We'd break a guys finger off for look'n at yuh wrong, of course we'd kill for you."

Eddie scooped you up, carrying you over to the couch where he sat you down on his lap. "You're gonna be safe with us, always. You know that don't you? We're always gonna protect you. never gonna have to worry about anything again."

"LETHAL PROTECTOR!"

You chuckle in his arms, and Eddie holds you close. "Yeah, the lethal protector. No ones ever gonna hurt you like that again."

OKAY THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING EDDIE/VENOM

Eddie will be a part of the team in my very gay series The Prodigals and maybe has gay sex with marc spector who knows! yet to be determined. but there will be a lot of gay sex. logan and wade, logan and scott, scott and kurt. It will be 99% gay.

Anyway!!!! thanks for reading!!!! i love fics were rapists die so I thought eddie was appropriate! I saw venom for the first time at the start of the month, literally watched one and two the day before i went to see three in theaters. CRIED

if anyone has any good eddie series, something quality im looking for a masterpiece here! eddie/venom is 100% welcome! so is gay shit.

If you are new to my blog just coming in from this fic, I mostly write Logan Howlett, and oscar isaac/pedro pascal characters. Mostly fem! reader but i like to dabble in other stuff, like trans readers or trans characters, lots of gay shit.

Anyway, hi if you're new!

Have a great day!

I wrote this after already writing a chapter of rooms on fire, and after doing a bunch of homework AND battling bronchitis soooooo plz be patient my writing isnt the best in the first place, i type and spell very badly.

#eddie brock #eddie brock x reader #venom x reader #protective eddie brock #protective venom #venom #eddie brock x you #eddie brock fluff #eddie brock angst #tom hardy #venom the last dance

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heesdreamer · 2 years ago

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SUNSHINE

PAIRING ➩ basketball player heeseung x cheerleader reader

WARNINGS ➩ um its super rough smut lol

WC ➩ 5k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ i hate both short works and straight smut but i guess that vlog got to me so here you go NOT PROOFREAD also i don’t like writing the boys completely out of character and i do not think hs would say or do half of these things lol but for the sake of the story

“You might just be the least positive cheerleader of all time.”

You were turning your head to the side to glare at the voice suddenly appearing from your left, sighing and rolling your eyes when you spotted who it was and going back to your position with your arms crossed on the side of the court as the game continued on.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to be all smiley and ‘go team’?” Heeseung was continuing on even though you were clearly ignoring him, something you did every time he attempted to bug you during the games and rile you up enough to get a reaction.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the court and not sat next to me on the bench?” You were snapping back at him and you quickly glanced at him before looking away when you saw the familiar smirk creeping up on his face.

Heeseung was definitely not a bench warmer, far from it considering he was practically the star of your schools basketball team and he knew you were aware of this. That still didn’t stop him from occasionally allowing the coach to switch him out so he could come and sit near the cheerleaders, seemingly finding a lot of mid game entertainment in you and your cold reactions.

You’d gone to school with him for most of your life but you never really noticed him until high school started and you joined the cheerleading team under the pressuring words of your mom.

She’d been one when she was your age and she claimed it to be the sole reason she loved high school, the place where she met all of her friends and eventually your father when he transferred their junior year. You’d pretty much expected to be forced into it since you were a child and now on your fourth and final year, you were more so just going through the motions.

Your stoic, and borderline aggressive, personality mixed with the image of you in a small glittery skirt and your hair sporting a giant obnoxious bow in your schools representative colors, seemed to catch the attention of the star player and he hadn’t left you alone since.

“When would I get to talk to you if I wasn’t on the bench?” He was leaning sideways towards you and you frowned softly, trying to ignore him and the stupid smirk sticking to his face now. “It’s not like you stop for me in the hallways.”

“Have you tried taking a hint?” You were once again harshly spitting the words at him and you felt a bit frustrated with yourself for not being able to keep your composure like normal, already stressed from an intense workload and the building pressure of graduation as it approached. “Why can’t you go bother your fan club, I’m sure they’d be more than willing.”

Heeseung definitely didn’t have the same concerns as you and you didn’t necessarily blame him. It isn’t his fault he was immediately offered full ride sport scholarships to multiple different schools and as much as you hated to admit it, he worked hard for his success and he deserved it.

That fact still didn’t make it any less annoying that he was constantly bugging you with his quick comments about your attitude or his countless attempts to flirt with you, asking for your number or sending you Valentine’s Day singing grams every year since you’d met, even though you’d stormed into the cafeteria freshman year and dumped his soda on his head for humiliating you.

He hadn’t gotten upset and started to dislike you like you had hoped for, instead he smiled and moved his wet hair out of his face before asking if you liked the flowers he’d left at your locker.

“Why would I do that? You know you’re my favorite, sunshine.” His tone was lower now and the nickname fell from his lips casually, routine by now considering how much he said it despite the fact you told him to knock it off every single time he used it.

You were sparing him once last glare before turning back towards the game and ignoring the fact he was a lot closer to you now, one small sideways scoot away from being off the bench and on the same bleacher seat you were on.

He was persistent to a point that you could almost admire and you’d never be foolish enough to deny that he was almost stupidly attractive but that didn’t change anything for you. You had too many differences for you to be truly interested and it didn’t help that he smelt like sweat almost every single time you saw him.

Plus, you weren’t lying about his fan club and you already had to deal with numerous sharp glares and mean whispers throughout the years and that was without you reciprocating the interest.

You’d long associated the boy with negative things so it was pretty common for you to greet his smiley face with an eye roll or a straight up sneer, trying your hardest to ignore him but typically falling into a small session of half bickering half flirting before he was giving up again and leaving you to sit and seethe. You couldn’t even escape him at home either, something you were especially aware of right now.

It was two hours into trying to get some homework done and your patience was wearing thin the longer the sound of the basketball outside continued on.

You just so happened to be in the universes shit list and you lived directly across from a park in the neighborhood. You’d been excited when you first moved in, being able to play constantly when you were younger and eventually developing it into a nice place to sit and relax after school. You would have solo picnics under one of the big trees or just go and listen to music laying in the grass.

That is until Lee Heeseung also moved into the neighborhood, starting off your sophomore year with a big obnoxious moving truck on the other side of the park and what followed nearly drove you insane.

He was outside nearly every single day after school and practice, no matter if it was cold or hot, rain or snow. What once had been a calming spot for you to unwind was quickly overtaken by the sound of rubber against cement and you stopped going the day he started.

Sometimes he’d wave at you from the court, catching sight of you glaring down at him from your open bedroom window, but he never made any attempts to talk to you or invite you to join him unlike he did in school and neither of you ever mentioned the fact you were neighbors during your little moments of heated conversation. You learned to ignore him over time but you were particularly stressed recently and before you knew it you were letting out an annoyed yell before marching out of your room.

You’d barely processed the fact you were moving as you tugged a hoodie over your head and slipped on your boots, heading out the door and slamming it as you passed through.

Some of your fire had disappeared by the time you were actually pushing out into the cold night air and crossing the empty street, your steps becoming more hesitant as you entered the park and approached the basketball court, realizing you were going to have to actually speak to him. He didn’t look over as you got closer and your frown appeared again at the sweat gleaming from his skin, his neck red and agitated like he was pushing himself past his limit.

“Do you ever go home?” You were asking before you had decided it was a good idea and you were almost as surprised as he was to hear your voice, jumping slightly at the same time he did as he whipped around to look at you.

He looked confused for a second when he saw you standing there on the court with your hands stuffed in your pockets but when he seemingly processed it was you, he was breaking into a small smile.

You watched him as he continued to pant and try and catch his breath to be able to respond to you, sighing in the meantime and taking a few step backwards so you could sit on one of the benches and stare up at him in the middle of the court.

“Almost didn’t recognize you without your pretty little skirt, sunshine.” His response was eventually coming and it immediately pulled an eye roll from you despite the fact your stomach flipped as he took a few steps in your direction, tucking his basketball under his arm routinely and watching you with amusement and interest.

“Yeah well…” You couldn’t think of a good comeback as he continued to get closer and you inwardly blamed it on the cold.

“Did you come to cheer me on?” He was asking in a soft voice but it had a mocking hint to it, not necessarily mean but potentially bitter and you stared up at him as his eyebrow cocked. “My own personal cheerleader?”

You were trying to get a good read on his expression but it wasn’t making any sense to you, his face lacking it’s usual lightheartedness and almost looking conflicted as he watched you and seemingly waited for you to finally think of a witty response. You didn’t have one, thrown off by both his strange demeanor and having a conversation in an unfamiliar place and you couldn’t tell if he was pleased or disappointed at your sudden loss for words.

He wasn’t saying anything further and you would’ve sighed in relief if it wasn’t for the fact he was watching you so intensely, eventually sitting beside you on the bench and you tensed up when you felt his thigh pressing against yours.

“You didn’t have to stop playing.” You were eventually muttering and you would’ve been more self conscious about your out of character behavior if he wasn’t already being so strange.

“Yeah I did.” He was sighing and you turned your head to look at him, being met with his side profile as he stared straight ahead towards the court and ignored the fact you were staring at him. “You’re a distraction.”

A laugh was bursting from your lips accidentally, almost a scoff and you cut it off short by covering your mouth and giggling out an apology when he shot you a sideways glare. You were shaking your head and trying to gather yourself before clearing your throat softly. “You see me every time you play, never been a distraction then.”

“Are you kidding me?” Now it was his turn to laugh but it was a lot more dry than yours and almost sarcastic sounding, like he couldn’t believe you’d actually said that. “You don’t think seeing you in that outfit every game is a distraction?”

He was finally looking at you now and your face flushed at how close that made you, nearly touching noses if either of you leaned forward slightly but you stayed perfectly still and scanned over his face as you tried to take in his words. You would’ve thought he was joking around and doing his usual rounds of mindless flirting but his tone was flat and his face remained serious, even as you watched him curiously.

You weren’t exactly sure how to respond and your words felt caught in your dry throat, letting down your guard for just a second too long and being struck with nerves.

“A good distraction?” You were eventually pushing out and your voice lifted in a curious tilt, his serious face breaking into a small smile again at the sound of your soft question and hesitant tone, two things he rarely heard from you.

“Yeah sunshine, it’s good.”

——

You spent the next two days avoiding Heeseung as much as you can, having ended the night in some more whispered small talk before he was resuming practice and you were eventually slipping off back to your house once the cold became too much for your hands and nose.

It was weirdly nice to watch him play in a place where he wasn’t obviously trying to show off and under the pressures of competition, watching the skillful way he moved and the sweat that continued to reflect off his deep tanned skin despite the bitter cold touching on yours.

You still felt awkward for having interrupted him and it didn’t help that you had finally played into his flirting for once, mistakenly letting your guard down once you saw him in a more neutral environment and you felt extremely embarrassed about the whole entire encounter. You were telling yourself it had nothing to do with the fact he made your face flush every time he leaned closer or the way your stomach flipped as he talked about your skirt distracting him.

Sadly, you couldn’t stay away from him for long considering a school year quarter pep rally was approaching and everybody involved needed to come to the gymnasium to practice together, including both the cheerleaders and the basketball team.

You frequented the gym a lot more regularly than other students and were pretty used to being in front of a crowd or performing routines to all of your peers but you could tell some of the clubs who would be involved were feeling nervous, striking up conversation with one of the boys from the dance club to try and ease his nerves.

The conversation was entirely friendly and even a little bit awkward considering you barely knew him and he was a lot younger than you but little did you know, Heeseung was watching you from across the gym and making his own assumptions about the interaction.

You completely missed the way his jaw was clenching as he watched the two of you laugh, you instinctively leaning forward and touching the boys arm as a comforting gesture and giving further reason for the hard glare being sent your way from the other side of the room. It didn’t help that you hadn’t been speaking to him and had went right back to actively avoiding him, he’d been overthinking it and looking forward to talking to you about his worries today since you had to be in close proximity.

So it was driving him crazy that you still hadn’t approached him and even worse, you were too caught up in a conversation with some kid he didn’t bother to place a name to.

Eventually the first round of practice was going to start soon and Heeseung watched as your coach said something to you briefly, stared as you nodded in acceptance and then wandered off to go and gather whatever it was that she had asked for.

He was following behind you without even thinking about it, completely ignoring the calls from his teammates asking where he was going and urging him to hurry up before the run through started. You were heading back towards the storage lockers where there was plenty of extra balls and uniforms, anything that might be needed during a game or an event.

You were barely thinking about the basketball player during this whole time, too distracted with the busyness of the day, but he immediately came to mind when you felt something pressing up against you from behind after entering the storage room that was tucked behind the large indoor bleachers.

“What are you doing?” You were grumbling out to him in your usual annoyed tone even though your stomach was flipping at the fact he was actually touching you for once, something he rarely did despite his constant advances.

He wasn’t fully pressed against you but just enough so that you could feel his clothing near yours, you could sense his large frame looming over you and practically caging you in near the wall you’d been passing when he arrived. You shifted slightly so you could turn your head to look over your shoulder and glare up at him when he didn’t respond.

“Who’s the kid?” He was responding and his voice was lower than usual, lacking it’s typical lightness and humor that came along whenever he felt like teasing you.

“Don’t be jealous of a freshman, it’s not a good look on you.” You were shaking your head and sighing, turning back to look at the shelf and try your best to ignore him despite your alarming awareness to how close the two of you were.

It was only increasing when his hand was finally touching you, snaking forward and resting against your hip in a way that caused your breath to catch in your throat, making you lose your nonchalant demeanor for just a split second before you were attempting to compose yourself again. He was just holding onto your hip, his hand large enough that his fingertips were pressing into your stomach.

You didn’t say anything as he touched you and you still didn’t when he was tugging you backwards softly, pulling your bottom half against his instead of fully pressing against you. Your eyes fluttered shut for a second at the feeling of him but you didn’t want him to see the obvious effect he had over you.

You were wearing a hoodie over your cheerleading uniform and half of his hand was underneath it so he could feel the hem of your skirt properly, bunching up the thick fabric around his arm slightly. He’d only pulled your lower half backwards so you were partially bent over now, barely enough to be noticiable but the implication made your cheeks burn.

“Why would I be jealous?” He was finally asking and his voice didn’t cut the tension at all, if anything worsening it. “Wasn’t him you were thinking about when you put this on.”

A scoff was falling from your lips at his sudden claim, despite how true it was considering you’d stared in the mirror particularly long this morning thinking about Heeseung calling you a distraction. Your careless attitude wasn’t holding too strong especially since he was squeezing your hip bone softly, your body instinctively pushing back further against him and causing your breath to stutter.

You felt slightly dizzy from the feeling of him against you so intimately, mixed with the fact that he had obviously been jealous over something as simple as you having a conversation. It should’ve annoyed you like it normally did but your heart raced slightly instead and you placed your hands against the wall subconsciously.

He took that as a cue to bend you over more, bringing his other hand up to your empty hip and using both of them to tug you fully backwards by the waist so you were flushed against him.

“Why are you wearing this?” He was suddenly asking and you were confused for a second before you felt him tugging on your large hoodie, childish annoyance in his tone at the fact most of your uniform was covered up.

You laughed softly at his whining, your voice embarrassingly affected and breathless. “Didn’t want to be a distraction.”

“That’s bullshit, you like knowing I’m watching you.” He was mumbling again now and it almost sounded like he was talking to himself, not really caring if you heard him. He was taking another step forward now and you could feel him more now, your head falling forward at the realization he was hard against you. “You’d let me take you right here, wouldn’t you?”

You considered not answering for a second and lowering his ego but he was slightly shifting backwards and releasing the pressure and a wave of panic ran through you.

“Yes yes I would.” You were rushing out and moving backwards to try and feel him again, ignoring the soft chuckle he gave and the way he squeezed your desperate hips in amusement. “You know I would.”

“Always so mean to me sunshine.” His voice was mocking again like it was the other night at the park and you were slightly thrown off by his change of demeanor, not expecting the roughness from the boy who was always big smiles and loud laughter everytime you’d seen him. He was bordering mean at times with his rough touches and provoking voice but you didn’t mind it at all, knowing you’d be dripping down your thighs if you were less clothed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being mean Hee.” Your voice was high and whiny but you were too turned on to be embarrassed, knowing how pathetic you must look.

“Show me how sorry you are.” He was instructing and you paused for a second, not exactly sure what he meant until he was lessening his hold on your hips. “Fuck yourself against me.”

Your breath was catching in your throat again and you let out a soft whine, one of your hands on the wall sliding down it slightly as you almost lost your balance.

He wasn’t exactly radiating patience and you were beyond desperate so you wasted no time in giving him what he wanted, pushing yourself back against him harder and crying out when you felt that he wanted it as much as you did, almost painfully hard now. His hips instinctively moved forward to meet yours but he immediately froze and stopped, letting you do all the work as you continued to roll your hips against him and try to get some sort of relief.

It wasn’t nearly enough for you, barely enough pressure for you to feel him and imagine how deep he would feel inside you but not enough to actually help you out in your building desperation, overwhelmed with longing for him as your hand fell off the wall and reach back to grab into his wrist.

“Please, I need you to touch me please.” You were begging him and a soft cry sunk into your voice, your head spinning with how bad you wanted to feel him anywhere.

“Fuck look at you.” He was grunting out before caving into your request, pulling you up softly and walking forward so now your entire body was pressed against the wall.

The cement was cold on your cheek and it would’ve been too uncomfortable if it wasn’t for the immediate distraction he was providing, his large hand slipping under your hoodie and aggressively groping your chest. His knuckles must’ve been rubbing against the wall but he didn’t show any signs of caring about the pain, twisting your hard nipple in his fingers and humping himself against you.

Your head was falling backwards to land on his shoulder, panting and letting out streams of high pitched whines as he roughly played with your mounds and thrusted against your skirt covered core.

He was using his free hand to reach over and grip your chin, holding it tightly between his fingers and turning your face so he could sloppily kiss you from where you laid on his shoulder. You were happily humming into his mouth despite the amateurish way you were moving against each other, more combined teeth and swapped spit than an actual kiss.

You could feel it dripping down your chin as he licked into your mouth, completely filthy and dirtier than you ever imagined him being. It was driving you absolutely insane and you’d completely forgotten about where you were or the fact people were expecting you back, the door not locked and accesible to anyone who came looking for you.

“Want you inside me Hee, please.” You were crying out into the kiss and he was only pulling back enough so you could speak, watching you with hooded eyes and parted lips and he tried to catch his breath and process what you were begging for. “I need you so bad, I can’t breathe.”

“Want me to fuck you sunshine?” His mocking tone was back and he squeezed your chest aggressively to emphasize his words, rutting against you in a sharp thrust that sent you harder into the wall again. He ignored your shocked cry and did it again before laying another wet kiss against your mouth. “Tell me baby, go on and beg for me.”

“I’ll do anything please, anything.” You were nearly sobbing now as you desperately tried to appeal to him, rocking yourself backwards into his hard cock to try and get him riled up enough to snap. “Need your cock in me so bad, do anything.”

Your words were slurred and mainly gibberish by now but it seemed to be enough for him, he cursed under his breath as he watched you desperately beg for him and you barely had time to process the fact he was moving before he was tugging down his basketball shorts and pressing your face against the wall again.

You moaned sharply into the cold cement and you were grateful it muffled it slightly considering you only got louder once he was roughly pulling up your skirt, ripping down your panties in one go and not bothering to warn or prep you before he was pressing the head of his hard cock against your entrance.

“Next time I’ll take my time with you, make you fall apart for me slow.” He was muttering in your ear as he lined himself up, pressing forward slightly and covering your mouth with his head when you let out a loud cry. “Can’t wait anymore though, gonna fuck you like the slut you are.”

You were nodding enthusiastically at his demeaning words, the more coherent part of you fluttering with butterflies at the fact he was already thinking about a next time that wasn’t so rushed. You had no issue with him simply fucking you now, feeling like you’d die if he spent another second teasing you or building up to it.

He was finally pushing himself fully inside you and your legs would’ve gave out if it wasn’t for his arm that was snaking around your stomach and his heavy weight pressing you against the wall, practically suffocating you as you lost your breath from the feeling of his complete length inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He was hissing out between gritted teeth and you instinctively clenched around him at the comment, satisfaction rolling through you when he groaned at the feeling. “No idea how long I thought about this.”

“Then show me.” You were snapping out, immediately hearing him laugh as your usual attitude resurfaced for a second, quickly growing impatient the longer he stayed still inside of you.

You were quickly taking back any anger you had when he was pulling out of you, almost all the way, before slamming his entire length back in. You could feel him so deep that you almost couldn’t catch a breath, bucking forward and your mouth parting in a silent cry that was immediately interrupted when he started to fuck into you at a fast pace.

He gave you no time to adjust to his thick size and you were grateful for it, the rough burn of him stretching you being exactly what you needed after years of bickering and teasing with him. It was beyond what you could’ve imagined, all that tension finally bursting into relief as he fucked you so rough you’d surely be coated in bruised by the time the pep rally actually rolled around.

You’d gone completely dumb and you knew he had too, holding his composure just enough to continue his aggressive thrust but losing all ability to tease you or make more comments towards your behavior.

He was holding you tightly against him and you almost wished you were somewhere more private so you could see him undressed, suddenly overcome with the need to feel his skin against yours and be completely covered in his warmth. You tried to ignore the unusually soft thought towards him and focus on how good he was making you feel, the familiar tight coil building in your stomach as he continued to fuck into you deep and rough.

“Please please.” You were begging again but you weren’t even sure what for at this point, your mouth just moving on instinctively so he didn’t stop under any circumstances.

“I know baby I know.” His voice was more gentle than it had been before but still just as tight and overwhelmed, definitely reaching the end rapidly himself like you were and trying his hardest to prolong it considering how good you felt as you kept getting tighter and tighter around him. “Squeezing my cock so good sunshine, you’re so perfect for me.”

“For you, just for you.” You were quickly responding to the casual possessiveness he had showed and this seemed to affect him more than anything, his hips faltering for a second in their assault before he was fucking into you even harder than you thought was possible. He clearly liked hearing you claim yourself as his own and you felt overwhelming dizzy at the realization.

It was a complete blur now as he fucked into you, coming undone faster than you ever had before and blacking out for a few seconds from the pleasure of him doing the same inside of you. You were too out of your head to care about the fact he had came inside of you and you didn’t even think about it.

You were immediately worried it would be awkward once you were coming back to your senses but then you processed the fact that Heeseung was placing soft kisses against your neck, turning you around gently so you were finally facing him and you felt a bit emotional from how kind he was being now after he’d just taken you so aggressively.

You were definitely in some sort of dropped space after the intensity you’d just been through because you were kissing him suddenly, happy you’d had him in that way but now feeling like you’d missed out on seeing him from this point of view.

He was grateful accepting the kiss and tugging you forward by your lower back, the same place he’d been holding but very different context now as he softly moved his mouth against yours and brushed your hair out of your face.

“Are you going to let me take you on a date now?” He was asking into the kiss and you pulled back to laugh softly, laying your head down on his shoulder and feeling the way they lifted as he chuckled at your reaction.

“Yeah hotshot… I’m sure we can work that out.”

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darqx · 10 months ago

Text

Snakes on a post

Another particularly long answer dump since i, once again, have a backlog of things to potentially answer |D

❗️For commonly asked qs please see my BTD FAQ

Got jumpscared with my own old art for a hot minute there LAUGHS.

(For those wondering, the naga doodle from here was attached to the ask)

That is every other Royal that exists in the Nether and also at least some of the demons that challenged him for his Royal title lol.

Believe me, no one was or is more surprised then me XD;

So, the thing about where Rire's ichor manifests is that it kinda exists and doesn't exist at the same time. Meaning that his upper back is where the manifestation point is anchored, BUT it can still manifest with a bit of space in between it and his back hence why it will manifest over his clothes and not through them.

So if you touch where the manifestation point is sans the ichor, than you are just straight up touching his back. With the ichor, he still gets sensory input from the tentacles to his back but it's a lot more soft and muted esp the further away it gets from him. As you've seen implied though, he would feel a very sharp pain if a great deal of damage was done to the ichor where it clusters at the manifestation point, since he'd DEF be feeling that straight in his back lol.

He is definitely a top and the only way he would bottom for anybody is if they somehow forced him to.

Ah i knew i'd answered this a long time ago [finally found it]! Holy crosses (those that have been blessed) can also burn him but they would need to be in contact with him the entire time. Being a Royal he also has more of a tolerance to these than normal demons.

Well, unless said person actually has the undeniable ability to make good on their words, Rire would just stand there rather genially with that little smile he sometimes has and let them finish.

And then he might use them as reverse suggestions for dealing with said person (why would you give him any ideas!!?)

both

In BTD canon it is quite possible that they actually haven't in person. But we are using creative license here haha.

Rire heals a lot faster than a human. Cain is not my character so I don't know how his stacks up.

I've grouped these asks cos they kind of have similar answers - 360° (jk sorry sorry to the second q that is just a very common spelling mistake and I couldn't resist XD; )

Now, even though we mashed all the characs together in BTD, they all actually come from different storylines and so their canons outside the "BTD canon" may differ. This tends to bleed in. With this in mind:

The rules of Rire's canon (eg the concept of Battle Royales and how to become a Royal) don't apply to Cain. Anyway, they don't live in the same place either.

Cain is canonically the oldest and most OP character in BTD lol so yes he is stronger than Rire - you might've noticed, but Rire is never in the same drawing as Cain voluntarily. I play with this along with the "natural weakness" aspect - which I've also referred to as scissors-paper-rock rules XD Basically; demons beat humans, angels beat demons (purely because demons have weakness against holiness).

It would (be insane) but I hope you are not looking at me to fulfil this :d

Not really

His coronation day is a public holiday in his sector so yes XD

Aww thank you very much for your interest! ≧(´▽｀)≦ It's really cool that some of you guys want to actually fund such a thing - I'd have thought you'd have enough of him killing you in BTD1 XD Unfortunately, I have no plans for a Rire game at the moment as I'm working on a webcomic which looks like it will take up all my free time (that being said, he will be in the webcomic at some point).

Nope! Although i can kinda see why you might think that lol.

Whatever that one is where he doesn't particularly care what someone else identifies as. It really makes no difference to him or how he will act.

There are viruses in the Nether that if contracted could potentially kill you, yes. Part of being a Royal is becoming a lot more robust than normal Demons though. As for if/when Rire dies, I dunno maybe either in a Battle Royale somewhere thousands of years down the line or by old age (which is rare for a Royal but not impossible if you play your cards right).

If you are asking if he has a heat/rut of some sort, he does not |D

#boyfriend to death #art #rire answer dump #answer dump #doodle #long post #decided to actually redesign what a naga rire would viably look like since the old design was bad XD

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kanasbinwriting · 3 months ago

Note

Hello!! Do you think you could do "a date with death" headcannons?? Like just general romantic headcannons!

GENERAL DATING HEADCANONS

Thank you so much for your request!! Apologies for the long wait :( I was quite busy recently.

I love him so much I might even do a part two if I can come up with more after I finish all of my requests...

I listened to the adwd soundtracks as I wrote this lol. Idk and idc if someone cares or not, but my Casper plush arrives soon and I'm sooo excited ^^!! Anyway, enjoy!!

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- He looks like someone who adores kisses but wouldn't initiate them at first, so you'd have to make the first move

- But don't worry, if you stop giving him kisses and tease him enough he'll be the one to initiate them

- He gets especially weak in the knees when you kiss him on the neck

- Do you guys know that meme "Ah, yes. My girlfriend and her 500 dollar four foot tall mareep."? That's Casper with his Azrael plush and I will die on that hill

- He will laugh at you if you get jealous of his plush

- How can you be jealous of a plushy...? Mortals sure are weird...

- In the beginning stages of your relationship, he would be very shy and uncertain when it comes to initiating physical touch, but when you initiate it? He would never say no

- He loves to tease you but will explode when you tease him back

- No matter how often he denies it, it's obvious that he loves your teasing and adores the little back and forth you guys have

- You don't know how makeup works? Don't worry, because your personal makeup assistant is here!

- He would LOVE to do your makeup whenever you please, may it be every day or just on special occasions it doesn't matter to him. He also loves to have you this close to him and cups your cheek when he does your eyeliner

- Don't get me wrong, I bet he's a great cook, but I don't think he knows a lot of recipes and will make the same things over and over again

- If you want to eat something different, feel free to join him. I think cooking would be one of his favourite activities with you

- If you're a picky eater, he will make sure to only add the things you like

- His baking is shit though, no matter how precisely he follows the recipe, he somehow always fucks it up

- Even though he gets easily flustered, I think you two moved on quite fast in the relationship

- He would love to include you in his nightly routine

- Your skin's going to look glamorous!

- Even if you don't want to use his products for whatever reason, he'd still enjoy having you next to him doing your stuff as he gets ready for bed

- Even with Azrael in his arms, he still wouldn't be able to fall asleep without you. So when you get home late expect a grumpy reaper waiting for you on your bed

- He'll immediately forgive you when you give him cuddles

- I think one of his love languages is physical touch

- He isn't too keen on PDA, but he'll still hold your hand and give you small kisses in public

- In private he's a big cuddle bug though

- I think he would enjoy being the little spoon and big spoon, you can take your pick. He would also enjoy every cuddle position where he can hold your hand and look at your face

- One of his other love languages is definitely words of affirmation

- He enjoys receiving it as much as giving it

- I don't think that gift-giving is his love language, but he'll still give you gifts from time to time to surprise you

- Okay, I think I should stop talking about his love languages, but let me drop one more.

- I definitely think that one of his love languages is quality time

- Be it going outside for a walk or just staying at home cuddling while watching one of your silly series, he will always want to spend his time with you

- He seems like a morning person to me, but he also enjoys staying in bed with you cuddling

- He's a GREAT listener

- No matter the subject, he will always engage in it and ask questions about it

- He loves listening to you info dump

- He'll even check the things you like out so he can engage in the conversation more

- I like to think that he enjoys playing coop games with you... especially Cult of the Lamb :)

- He's quite tidy and keeps his things organised, but he still wouldn't want to clean after you

- So if you leave your dirty laundry on the floor, be prepared for a big lecture

- When it comes to arguments, I think his reaction depends on what kind of argument it is

- Are you arguing about something silly? He will act stubborn and be a little know-it-all, even if he knows he's in the wrong

- If it's a more serious argument he will raise his voice, but won't scream

- It'll take him a day to cool off, and it will be a bit hard for him to apologise first but he still manages

- He will feel a bit awkward at first when everything's sorted out

- Just tell him that everything's fine now and give him a little smooch and he will be back on track

- Tbh I don't think that he's a jealous type, he trusts you a lot

- He does get jealous though when you somehow manage to spend more time with someone other than him

- I think he would immediately seek you out and talk to you, embarrassingly admitting that he's jealous

- If you have any hobbies and/or a fan of certain things, be prepared to suddenly have tons of merch and/or stuff of it on your bed waiting for you

- He'd look at you with a smug smile waiting to be praised and praises he will receive

- If you have any trauma and are mentally ill, he will do his best to support your every need

- If you have sudden outbursts and want to be left alone, he wouldn't mind going to a different room and wait for you to calm down. He'll still feel bad for leaving you

- He needs a lot of reassurance when it comes to your mental health and what exactly you need him to do

- The same goes for when you're chronically ill

- He won't bother to look the information up, he knows that not every method applies to the same person and will just straight up ask you what you need

- When he's sad, all he wants is for you to hold him and tell him that everything's going to be alright

- If you're stressed due to work or an entirely different reason, be prepared to get spoiled by him. Of course, he would lecture first that you need to take better care of yourself, but he will immediately massage your head after

- He will tear up if you give him a gift and bake/buy him a cake on his birthday

- If you have a hobby that he can somehow participate in be ready to have a player two, because he will join you

- He likes it when you call him baby girl. Even when it confused him at first

- He loves it when you give him serious and silly pet names, he isn't picky

- He knows that marriage is a big thing for most mortals, so he would love to marry you. It doesn't matter if it's official or not

#a date with death casper x reader #adwd casper #adwd grim #a date with death x reader #adwd casper x reader #casper x reader #a date with death

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biancadoes1 · 25 days ago

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Hi,

First off, thank you for posting my post. Organized Anon. I never thought people would care what I had to write, just had to get that off my chest and I love a good list lol. I guess, I have more so here is part 2. Lol

Today will be the Wild West west for Lukolas. I see people sending in post that are all over the place.

I myself am not a lukola -per se. I love Nic and Luke. I would love if they dated. But I like to remain neutral. I find it is the best for me. For me.

I am seeing posts saying Nic and Luke are beefing bc he did not post for her bday and she has not liked her post. My advice is to not engage with people who think Nic is dating Jake. It is a waste of time. You could have ET standing next to you saying aliens are real and they still will not believe you. It doesn’t matter about posts talking about the meaning of sweet one, they will not listen. The only thing to prove a jakola wrong is to let them use their brain. Trust me, if you ask question that requires thinking, in a respectful way, they will not know how to respond or what to do.

again, saying Nic is with JD bc she went to his premiere is childish. Saying she is mad with Luke and she has been showing JD off since Luke went to Rome is childish. Saying there is beef between them is childish. yes, I am even calling so called Lukolas on this site out who are agreeing with things.

there is nothing we can say to prove or show. But again, ask yourself those key questions.. if she is dating Jake and they have been out an about all this time, why not just post or tag that is who she was with in her photo. Nic has a brain and smart. We know they went to the WT movie together and we know they spend time together so why not post or tag him- and she might later do this- but why be public with JD on certain days and private with him on other days- makes no sense. No logical sense. People already think they date, so why hide him on the bday post. -Because his is most likely isnt dating him. This is just from rational thinking.

again, think rationally. Why would two adults- who play a beloved fan favorite of Polin be beefing and put in on SM for the world to think so. It’s bad for the product. Look at the Amazon show, culpa tuya. The leads are apparently beefing and yea people are talking but Polin is a different type of love story. Shonda would not let dirty laundry out so stop with the beefing theory. People sound like children. And these are grown adult women. Stop thinking that people are vindictive and want to manipulate others. Go seek therapy and figure out why toxicity is a driving force in your life. If Nic was beefing, why is Luke all over her end of year dump. His photo is on the back of her phone. At the least, they are besties.

now the million dollar question- why did he post for Claudia Bday and not Nic. There are only two possible reasons. A. JD is her man and he did not want to take away from JD on her special day. OR B. Luke is her man or her and Luke are getting close and decided to make it private - no attention. I believe the latter based on rational clues. Extra extra eyes were on them this year. Commenting on her SAG post was loud but not posting is louder. Personal stays private.

Could I be wrong yes- lol. But I’ll leave with this. If Nic is dating JD, you will have people saying she trolled the fandom. And if you are being honest, it can be seen that way. Posting and not posting jd. Jd trolling as well, saying things like people want me to marry Luke , doing that audiobook. It’s just too much. And she will get push back and fans will leave. I don’t care how nice people think JD is, he is not worth losing fans for. But let’s not think on this. We will cross that bridge, when or a big big big big if we need too. thanks!!!

#no notes

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7ndipity · 6 months ago

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“Miss You”

Jin x Reader

Summary: You and Jin had always been close, but following his enlistment, you realize that there might be much more between you than just friendship

Word Count: 4.0k(wtf?!)

Warnings: angst, pining, swearing, lil suggestive at the end, not proofread

A/N: A massive thank you to @coffeedepressionsoup for this request and for being so patient with me while I worked on it! This really got away from me, lol, but I really love how it turned out and hope you will too!

Masterlist

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"Why am I so fucking nervous?” You wondered to yourself as you sat waiting in your car, glancing around the parking lot of the restaurant in search of the familiar figure of your best friend. “This man has seen me at my worst, he’s not gonna care about my outfit."

But still your fingers found their way back to your sleeve, fidgeting with the fabric anxiously, finding it impossible to get it to sit to your satisfaction.

Dinners with Jin had once been such a common occurrence for the two of you that you would naturally show up at each others places without notice, oftentimes still in work or rehearsal clothes and messy hair.

You and Jin had been friends for years, meeting not long after you first moved to Seoul, and in essence, your relationship boiled down to that you irritated the shit out of each other, but that was why you loved each other. It wasn’t uncommon for you to greet each other with nicknames like “jackass” and “idiot”, or to treat each other to things like ice cream topped with fish sauce instead of chocolate syrup.

Some in your friend group found your dynamic a little peculiar to say the least, but they didn't question it much. The two of you were simply comfortable enough to be your true ridiculous selves together.

For all of your more childish behaviors though, you both knew you could count on the other for anything, whether that was being a shoulder to cry on when you got dumped by your first real boyfriend, or comforting him as he poured out his fears of keeping up with the demands of Idol life. You trusted each other with every version of yourselves, which was quite different from almost every other friendship you had.

Indeed, the only thing you had truly kept hidden from him was the not so small crush you had developed for him over the years.

It wasn’t exactly a shocking development; neither of you had particularly fulfilling dating lives, and you tended to spend most your nights off at each other's places because that just felt easier, more comfortable. You two had even joked together that you might as well date, but it of course never went beyond jokes.

Part of you wanted to be honest with him about your feelings, but it didn’t feel right to dump that kind of information on him when he was already dealing with so much.

What if he didn’t feel the same? Were you really willing to risk one of the most important friendships in your life on a maybe? And even if he did feel the same, which you very much doubted, what would you be able to do about it now that he was going away for over a year?

No, it was much better, much kinder, to just keep things the way they were, and to love and support him solely as a friend.

As the time for Jin to enlist drew closer, your hangouts had taken on a slightly more bittersweet tone, realizing more and more how much you were going to miss seeing each other.

Neither of you spoke about it though, playing it off with jokes about how grateful you’d be to have the other out your hair.

“At least once you’ve left, I’ll be able to watch good tv again.” You’d teased one evening after losing another round of rock, paper, scissors for what show to watch.

“Ha, as if! I bet you won’t make it two weeks before you’re back to watching my picks.” He’d retorted, flopping back against your couch. “Face it, you’re gonna be totally lost without me.”

You’d rolled your eyes, but a tiny voice in the back of your mind feared that he was right.

But then, the time came for him to leave, and reality hit much harder than either of you had anticipated.

You had thought that perhaps the distance and time apart might help you get over your lingering feelings for your friend, but instead, his sudden absence had just left a painfully obvious hole in your life and left you feeling terribly alone. You hadn’t realized just how much space he took up in your day to day life until he was gone.

Everything felt off balance. Evenings at home, which had once been your favorite, were now dark and dull, dinners quiet and lonely. Your favorite cafes and shops were now far too loud and crowded on your own.

You could tell that he wasn’t dealing with the separation well either, though he tried to keep up his normal cheery disposition whenever you called. But each time, you noticed the way his smiles didn’t always reach his eyes, or that his laughs were just a little more forced.

You tried to keep in touch through text, sending each other your usual memes and updates, but as time went on, the frequency began to slowly lessen more and more.

It was better when you were able to see each other in person, able to pretend for those few hours that almost nothing had changed, but it seemed more and more like the universe was against you having even that. On the days that Jin managed to get leave, something always seemed to interfere with you seeing each other, whether it was work schedules, family emergencies, or random stomach flus. Last time, you’d only managed to meet up for a quick coffee before he had to leave again.

To your credit though, the two of you never forgot a single holiday or special occasion for the other, sending gifts and trying your hardest to meet around the time of your birthdays.

This was one of those such days, just a week or so past your birthday, that you were currently sat waiting for him to show up.

He had promised to treat you to a meal for your birthday, just like he did every year, so you had picked a place close to his base that you knew you both loved. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a little locally owned barbeque place, but it was where the two of you had met several times before, and it had come to feel like ‘your place’.

Finally, you spotted his familiar figure appear, leaning up against the side of the building as he glanced around for you, looking gorgeous as ever in the golden evening light.

Exiting your car, you half ran across the parking lot, tackling him in a tight bear hug.

“Oof! Hi, Bug.” He greeted you breathlessly, steading the two of you before returning your embrace.

“Wassup, dork.” You said, grinning up at him.

“Yah! I’m a military man now, you should speak to me with some respect.” He scolded you.

“Yeah, not gonna happen.” You snickered, earning an eye roll from him.

“Alright, menace,” He shoved you off playfully. “Let's go eat, I’m starving.”

The two of you fell back into your usual rhythm with each other, swapping stories about work, family, his new friends from the base, the new coffee place near your apartment that you hated, anything that crossed your minds. But throughout the evening, you couldn’t help but notice the strange shift in the air.

Maybe it was the fact that this was the most time that you’d spent together in ages, but the whole evening had a nervous energy to it, almost like a first date.

You caught yourself admiring little things about Jin that you had only fleetingly paid mind to before, if at all.

The way he gripped his chopsticks or spoke with his hands, bringing to mind the numerous times he’d gripped tight onto your hand to keep you from getting separated in busy crowds. You wondered if they felt the same, or had the past year of work made them rough?

“Y/n?”

You blinked, Jin eyeing you mild amusement.

“You okay? Or am I boring you already?” He asked with faux indignation.

“No no, sorry.” You shook your head, trying to ignore the sudden heat in your face. Had you been staring at him the whole time? You desperately hoped not.

Then again, it wasn’t just you acting strangely either.

More than once through the evening, you could have sworn you caught Jin staring at your mouth as you’d spoke, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt, drawing your attention to his outfit, noting that he seemed to have dressed up a bit more than usual, just like you had.

The perceived change in both your demeanors lead to several weighted silences, but there was also an nervous undercurrent of excitement to them, both of you fleetingly meeting the others eye, only to then be caught and left temporarily unable to look away. It was as if you were both waiting, daring the other to address it, but neither of you did.

Inevitably though, it grew too late to ignore, the restaurant around you now nearly empty, the sky outside long turned black.

As you exited the restaurant, a cloud of silence fell over the two of you again, this time though it was more mournful, sensing the impending goodbye, not knowing when you would get to see each other like this again.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay getting home?” Jin asked softly. “It’s a bit of a drive.”

“Yes Mom, I’ll be fine.” You tried to tease, but the words came out without any real edge to them.

The two of you stared at each other for a long moment, Jin chewing his lip nervously, as if he wanted to say something more, but he didn’t.

Suddenly, he wordlessly pulled you into a tight hug, something he had done a thousand times before, but something in the way he held you this time made your heart ache, holding onto him a little tighter this time, savoring the warmth of him around you for just a little longer.

"I miss you." The words slipped out before you realized, so small and heavy with heartbreak, drifting away in the night air as you kept your face pressed against the material of his jacket, hoping that maybe he hadn’t heard you.

You felt him freeze for the smallest fraction of a second before his arms tightened around you, hugging you closer.

“Me too.” He breathed, barely audible.

You bit your lip, trying desperately to will away the sudden stinging wetness in your eyes.

After a long moment, you both became of aware of how you were holding onto each other, parting awkwardly as you cleared your throat, looking anywhere but him.

“G-goodnight, Jin.” You muttered hurriedly.

“Night.” He replied, taking a small step back before giving an awkward half bow. “Stay safe and eat well, yeah?” His eyes were similarly misted over, matching your own.

“Mhm, you too.” You nodded quickly, looking away again.

Feeling your already wavering facade threatening to crack, you nodded and turned away, walking quickly to your car without looking back at him.

The next few months passed relatively quickly, but following that night there had been a palpable shift between the two of you.

Calls began to lessen. Then texts. You claimed work was just really hectic and you were just busy, but it wasn't the whole truth.

The truth was you were terrified.

Memories of that evening plagued you constantly, as did your accidental confession.

It was just three words, a simple and perfectly innocent statement given the context of your situation, but they had held more meaning than you intended them to, and you could tell that Jin had picked up on their meaning as well, based on his recent, equally awkward behavior.

Staring down at your phone, you cursed yourself silently, seeing no new messages from him yet again. If the earlier distance between you had been painful to cope with, the new silence was agony.

Why had you said anything at all?! You were sure you must have freaked him out.

You considered just being completely honest with him and telling him how you felt, more than once you had written out several long-winded texts in an attempt to explain everything, but each time you’d lost your nerve and deleted it.

At a loss, you did the only thing you could think of, which was nothing.

You stepped back, giving him whatever space he wanted or needed, letting him choose how things would move forward between the two of you.

If he wanted to move on and act like nothing had happened, you’d go right along with him. And if he wanted to talk about it… then you’d face that and accept whatever he had to say.

That decision however, had resulted in Jin overthinking things as well.

He had also been replaying that last dinner with you, his mind drifting back to how pretty you had looked, the nervous flush that had crept over your cheeks as you’d talked, the shape of your lips, how tempting it had been to lean in and-

He shook his head, glancing around quickly as he tried to clear his mind, hoping no one had noticed his lack of focus.

“I miss you…” Those three little words had echoed in Jin’s head for days. They were simple enough, but it was something that neither of you had said in the nearly year and half that he’d been gone. Your quiet confession had caused all the feelings that he had been trying to stifle for ages to rise back to the forefront.

Over the course of your friendship, he’d become increasingly infatuated with you, but he’d always pushed those feelings to the side, fearing that you wouldn’t feel the same, or even if you did, that the complications of dating as an Idol would be too much and drive you apart.

He had thought he was doing the right thing by keeping his feelings to himself, but your words had made him reconsider.

Unsure how to proceed, he had pulled back slightly as he mentally battled with himself.

But then you had started to pull away as well.

Your shorter messages, the sudden lack of interaction, it all made his stomach sink lower and lower with every passing day.

He shook his head again.

No. He couldn’t take this.

He decided one of the first things he would do following his discharge was tell you the truth about how he felt, and whatever your response was, he would accept. If you rejected him, he would go back to being just your friend and pretend nothing had happened.

And if you reciprocated his feelings-? He wouldn’t let himself think about that, not yet.

Above all else, you were one of his best friends, and he was not prepared to lose you.

Finally, after what felt like the longest and shortest year and half of his life, Jin received his discharge.

The first few days after coming home were a frenzied blur for Jin.

Between meeting up with family and friends, photoshoots, hosting a fanmeet for Army, and various other schedules, he was absolutely exhausted.

In a way, it was wonderful to be getting back into his chaotic, but familiar routine, but the sudden shift back into ‘civilian life’, if one could call it that, was taking its toll on him all the same.

Everything was so loud and happening so fast, all he really wanted was just to find somewhere quiet to lay low for a few days and do nothing.

Wait no, that wasn't quite true.

He wanted to see you.

Since he’d gotten back, you had sent a few texts, welcoming him home and the like, but he’d yet to get to actually see you, a fact that was beginning to make him increasingly uneasy.

He needed to see you, needed to hear your voice, to tell all the thoughts and feelings that he had realized over the past few months. He could almost feel them, pressing in against his ribcage, squeezing the air from his lungs. He didn’t think he would be able to breathe properly again until he told you how he truly felt.

Luckily, he knew he would have a chance tonight at the party his friends were throwing for him.

It wasn’t anything elaborate, just a get together with some of his friends, with food and drinks, as a way to welcome him home.

Despite the fatigue of the past few weeks, Jin was looking forward to it, if only for the chance to see you again.

But as he scanned around the crowded room, he failed to spot your face.

“Something wrong, Hyung?” One of his friends asked, noting his deflated expression.

“Have you seen Y/n?” He asked, still looking around hopefully. “I thought they’d be here.”

“Maybe they’re just running late or something?” He offered.

Jin nodded distractedly, ducking off to the side and fishing his phone out of his pocket.

He called your number, but was sent directly to your voicemail. He hung up and tried again, with the same result.

“Everything okay? I really wanted to see you tonight…” He typed out quickly, pressing send as someone else’s conversation caught his attention.

"Y/n? Didn’t they say they had a date tonight or something?"

His head whipped around at their words.

"What date?" He asked, slightly more sharply than he intended.

"I dunno, some blind date that Y/n said their work friend set up.” They shrugged.

“Oh.” Jin felt all the energy in his body slip away, like water down the drain.

Everyone's voices faded into static as Jin stood there motionless, feeling as if the ground below him was slowly swallowing him up.

He was too late.

In all the months of imagining and planning and hoping, he hadn’t accounted for the fact that he might not be given an opportunity to confess, that you would move on before he had a chance. Because why wouldn’t you? He hadn’t given you any reason not to, if anything quite the opposite. He’d stupidly shied away from you in an attempt to spare himself the awkwardness of having to explain himself to you before he was ready, and now it was too late. He’d fucked up…

In reality, however, you were not on any such date. You had actually spent the evening curled into a sniffly ball in bed, completely unaware of Jin’s numerous attempts to call you as you faded in and out of a cold meds-induced sleep.

It was true that your friend had tried to set you up with one of their guy friends, and while they had sounded very nice, you had politely declined, telling her you appreciated the offer, but you weren’t looking to date anyone at the moment.

You didn’t mention that it was mainly because you were still hung up on your best friend, but no one needed to know that, including the best friend in question.

You’d had every intention of going to his welcome home party, and to hopefully clear up the awkwardness between the two of you, but fate had decided to screw you over once more by having you come down with a cold that day, leaving you an achy, feverish mess in bed.

When you woke up the next morning, or early afternoon to be more precise, your head still slightly wobbly as you checked your phone, you felt your stomach drop as you scrolled through the multiple missed calls and messages from Jin.

You quickly called him back, praying that he wasn’t too upset with you for ignoring his calls, as well as missing his party.

It rang several times, making you worry that he wouldn’t pick up, until you finally heard his voice.

“Hello?” He answered, his tone flat and detached.

“Jin, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see your messages til this morning-” You tried to explain.

“It’s fine.” He stopped you, but you thought you heard a faint sniffle from his end of the line.

“Are you okay?” You asked worriedly.

“M’fine.” He answered flatly, but you thought you recognized that sour tone.

“Are you sure? You sound a little stuffy, you’re not sick too, are you-?” You tried.

“I said I’m fine, Y/n.” He cut you off. “Look, uh, now’s not really a great time to talk, I’ll call you back later, okay?”

“Okay.” You said quietly, heart sinking as the line went dead.

He’d said that he was fine, but his short tone with you had said otherwise. You’d known him long enough to know he was either sick or sulking, and neither of those options sat well with you at the moment.

Before you had fully thought out what you were going to say to him, you were standing outside his door.

He was equally slow in answering the door as he had been on the phone, cracking the door open slowly.

"I was the one who was sick, why do you look like you’ve been through the plague?" You asked wryly, trying to get him to crack a smile, but no such thing happened.

“What are you doing here?” He asked in the same monotone from earlier.

“I came to see if you were okay-”

"I’m fine." He said flatly.

Oh, he was definitely sulking. It was gonna take a bit more work than you’d initially thought to get him to talk to you then.

"Alright then, what if we-.” You started.

"How was your date?" He asked suddenly, catching you off guard.

"What date?" You asked in confusion.

"The one your friend from work set up.” He said, the distaste clear in his voice.

"Who told you about that?".

"What does it matter? How was it?" He said sharply.

You blinked, staring up at him.

Was that why he was upset about? Not that you missed the party or his calls, but because he thought you’d done so in favor of a date?

"I wouldn’t know, I told them no." You admitted, shrugging indifferently.

He straightened slightly, looking up at you in surprise. "What? Why?"

You hesitated.

You could just say because you weren’t interested, or you could just tell him the whole truth, right here and now. If he rejected you, at least then you would know and you could both move on, rather than slowly ruining your friendship the way you had the past few weeks.

Your hesitation made him suddenly anxious, seeing the conflict in your eyes, afraid to get his hopes up.

"Why didn't you go, Y/n?" He asked again, his voice suddenly low and soft.

It was the same voice that had brought you comfort more times than you could count, the voice that had accompanied numerous midnight conversations. That safe, familiar tone that felt like home.

You realized it was now or never.

You met his gaze. “They weren’t you.”

His eyes went wide, and for a split second you feared you had made the choice.

But then he was crushing you to his chest, holding you tightly and yet so achingly gently, as if you might shatter in his hands as he pressed his lips to yours.

“I thought I was too late.” He breathed, drawing back just enough to gaze at you.

You shook your head. “I wanted you.”

“Thank fuck-” He closed the gap between you again, kissing you much more firmly this time.

Everything else seemed to fade away, all you could, hear, smell, and feel was Jin. The lingering scent of his cologne, the faint roughness on his hands as they drifted up to cup your cheek.

You hooked your arms around his neck, pulling him and pressing him closer to you.

His hands drifted lower, caressing your waist as his tongue glossed over your lower lip, making you let out a soft whine.

“Is this okay?” He rasped.

“God, yes.” You nodded quickly.

“Jin’s just fine, you don’t have to give me any special names.” He smirked at you.

You shoved him away weakly. “You’re the worst.”

He just laughed, pulling you to connect your lips again.

The sound of voices in the distance suddenly reminded you both that you were still stood on his doorstep.

“Do you wanna take this inside?” He asked “Or am I still the worst?”

“Inside.” You said quickly, giving him another shove, this time propelling you both inside and slamming the door behind you.

@sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @universal-travel-er @bo0ghol @seleneacyoflove

#bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts requests #seokjin x y/n #seokjin x reader #seokjin one shot #seokjin oneshot #seokjin drabble #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #bts drabble #bts fluff #bts one shot #bts oneshot #7ndipity

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dreamdazedworld · 5 months ago

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YANDERE! BLADE BRAINROT (GENSHIN! YOUKAI! READER)

Sypnosis: Some thoughts about how Yandere! Blade would act with Youkai! Darling, and some sprinkles of needy, clingy and touch starved Yandere! Blade just absolutely feral at the little things his darling does LOL

Note(s): Third post (yippie), I might change my blog theme to a more Yingxing styled one because I love him <3 I might make this Genshin! Youkai! Reader a series with how much I’m writing about them…. I swear, I’m posting my brainrots every single day recently LOL (Might also drop off some Genshin crumbs about either Kinich or Kazuha if one of them comes home, if none of them comes well I’ll let y’all choose who’s it going to be)

Warning(s): Word dump, Yandere content (do not interact if you feel uncomfortable with these type of content!!!), Blade is feral and we love him like that, darling has Stockholm syndrome (I think), not really because they already had feelings before they were forced to stay next to Blade, size kink briefly mentioned (as a joke!!!)

・My view on this Yandere! Blade

I don’t think that I talked on what exactly Yandere! Blade with a Youkai! Reader is going to be like, so let me start with how Yandere! Blade is going to act like with a Genshin! Youkai! Darling from this post. In my eyes, I see him as an Overprotective and Removal type of Yandere, with strong traits of a Territorial type. As Yingxing, he has lost his darling once, and he would never want to experience that again. Living without them at his side is like living without a heart, without darling, everything is suddenly so monochrome and empty, so much so that it drove him to the brink of insanity.

Once he reunites with his darling, he’s never letting go (literally). Please don’t blame him though, Blade does try to give his darling some space, but he can’t help it when his arms snake around your waist to hug you, afraid that if he lets go, you’ll disappear on him again! Blade will not hesitate to take care of people who he deems as ‘threats’, once coming home covered in blood from head to toe, nor will he tolerate anyone else other than him (and maaaybe the rest of the Stellaron Hunters) to be near you within a 10 kilometer radius. Easily jealous as well, so don’t be surprised when your grumpy cat decides to start biting you all over the place.

To wrap things up about my view on this Blade, as a Yandere, he’s not too freaky, maybe a bit feral, but that’s just it. It’s caused from his fear of losing his darling once again, whether that be fate’s cruel joke or be it by darling hating him as well, Blade just cannot function properly without you. He treats you like a porcelain doll that can break at any moment, but on the downside, he’s desperate and clingy as hell (touch starved from all the years Blade was alone hehe we love a bit of needy Blade <3)

・Little things that darling does which makes him go feral

Blade will love everything about you, but I like imagining Youkai! Darling to be significantly shorter than Blade (might just be because I’m tiny and wants to be held). He has those moments of cute aggression when darling has to get on tiptoes to grab something that he may or may not have purposely placed barely where they can reach. (He has a size kink that’s for sure hdjfhdhdhf)

Absolutely will go feral if darling has to forcefully make him bend down to give him a quick peck, or when darling subconsciously wraps multiple tails around his arm and waist, his heartbeat accelerates when darling’s there (to a concerning pace, really). Aaa imagine if darling tugs on his sleeve, fidgeting when they want a kiss like ughhh my heart <3

#hsr blade #blade x gender neutral reader #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #daze writes #should I make a tag for genshin! youkai! reader #aaa help #I am a responsible parent #considering how well I feed you all with food

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gyuswhore · 1 year ago

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Dahlia

🎁 Em Birthday + Dino Mixtape Special 🎁

PAIRING: lee chan x reader

SYNOPSIS: When Chan brings you a bouquet filled with promises and hope to begin your birthday, you're happy to accept them with the love they come with. Chan, however, is quick to remind you that the flowers were only the beginning.

CONTAINS: fluff, smut (MINORS DNI) bikerboyfriend!chan, fem!bodied reader, soaked chan (literally), tiny bit of crying (happy tears!!), loads of acts of service, making out, handjobs, breast play, clit stimulation, fingering (f. rec), penetration, chan wont let reader breathe kjgfnekfjn, these two are so in love it gets sappy at the end lmk if theres anything else

WORD COUNT: 4.4K

masterlist

[AN]: if yall didnt think that insane meltdown i had on the tl a while ago wasnt gonna spawn into this, you would be crudely mistaken. ANYWAY in honour of em day falling on dixtape release day i present to you this thing i wrote out of the worst brainrot ive had in a very long time. have fun with channie lol

“Thank you!” Chan yells behind him to the flower shop owner as he walks out, the small tinkle of the door chime making itself known despite the near midnight time. Chan checks his watch as he approaches his motorcycle that stands on the empty sidewalk: 11:38 PM.

He might be able to make it, swinging his leg over the seat as he thanks his luck that he was able to catch the last florist before she closed for the day. The owner sends him a smile as she begins her own trek to her car, lights out.

Revving his engine to life, he attempts to tuck the bouquet into his riding jacket, praying the delicate petals would hold up during the short ride to your place. His helmet is strapped on within seconds as he kicks up his stand to take off into the empty streets, making a beeline for your apartment. He stops at a red light, taking the chance to check his watch again: 11:47 PM.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, whipping his head around to check the ghostly empty streets of the intersection. He briefly wonders if he can afford a ticket when he sees the droplets fall on his gloved hands.

“No. No, no, no, come on!” The light turned green as the rain began to thunder down onto his helmet, seeping through the collar of his jacket and trickling down his skin. He pushes away a shudder, trying not to shiver in the now even colder November night, wanting nothing more than to get to your place as quickly as possible.

The rain grows nothing but stronger as he finds himself needing to wipe his shield every few seconds, his desperation increasing with the strong winds. By the time he’s kicking his stand and yanking his helmet off, the pour seems to have slowed itself to a drizzle, something he thinks he would’ve appreciated just a few minutes ago. In the few seconds it took him to kill the engine and inspect his flowers, the slow droplets infiltrated his hair, too.

The flowers are soaked, Chan finds out soon enough as he inspects the droplets that have collected on the short petals of the red dahlias he’s picked out. He dumps the bouquet upside down to pour out the accumulated water onto the pavement, watching the amount of liquid that continues to spill out.

So much for the flowers holding up.

“I think you need some flowers for your water,” Chan flicks his sopping wet hair off his forehead to look up at the sound of your voice, eyes meeting your delighted face over your low window.

He glances back down at the water-specked flowers, and hears a ghost of a chuckle escape him. Chan realizes in the moment how frazzled he looks, dripping wet with a thing of dejected flowers in his grip.

You’re still smiling at the sight, “Come up before the hypothermia sets in, idiot.”

He’s quick to oblige, bounding inside despite the droplets he leaves in his wake, checking his watch in a glance: 11:58 PM. You’re quick to open the door for him just as he reaches your place on the first floor, folds upon folds of bath towels in your arms.

“You look like a wet dog,” you snort, laying down a towel for him to step inside on.

“Wait!” he yells, and you freeze in your crouched spot. You’re slow to come back up, watching him stare intently at his watch.

11:59 PM… 12:00 AM.

His face breaks out into a big smile, causing you to mimic his elated expression. He grabs your limp hand and thrusts the bouquet into your hands.

“Happy birthday, babe.”

You can’t help but huff out a little laugh. The sight of dripping hair, sodden socks on a towel, his hand that pushes the flowers into your own, all complete with a stupidly accomplished look on his face.

You push forward, flowers in hand, as you wrap your arms around his neck in a tight embrace. Pushing your chest into his, you leave no room between what your clothing would allow. It’s wet. Really wet. You can feel your shirt grow warm under the retention, but you pay no mind as you continue clinging to him with all you have.

“Thank you, Chan.” He can hear the elation in your voice, and it’s enough to make it all worth it. He hugs you back, cautious at first, but relents when he realizes you don’t care about coming out of the hug as soaked as him. It isn’t until you feel the unnatural cold of the tip of his nose kiss your neck that you realize he’s probably freezing. So you pull away, albeit reluctantly.

He keeps his hands on your hips as you continue, “Let’s get you dried up first.”

Thus, a freshly washed and clothed Chan exits the bathroom, finding you in the kitchen huddled over the island. It isn’t until he’s engulfed you completely from behind, arms coming to pull you into his bare chest, that he sees what you’re doing. The crimson flowers had been tended to, placed into a pretty vase as you fiddle with the petals to spread them into a pleasing arrangement.

“It’s freezing, Chan, put a shirt on!” you gasp as you turn around to realize your boyfriend is sporting nothing but trousers and a towel around his neck.

“In a minute,” he mumbles as he drops his forehead to your shoulder.

Running your fingers through his wet hair, you attempt to comb them out. “Why didn’t you stop when it started raining? You catch colds so easily.”

“I was running late, and the flower shop fucked my order. It was my fault. Spent ages trying to find one open that had these ones.”

“You still could’ve stopped.”

“And miss being the first to say happy birthday? Fat chance.”

You sigh as you give in to him. “Thank you. For testing your immune system for me.”

He snorts at the comment, coming back up to face you, forearms resting on the counter as he pushes your body against the edge. He glances at the flowers briefly.

“This wasn’t the end of it. We still have another twenty-four hours to go,” he murmurs. “The rest of the surprises will be less chaotic, I promise.”

“It’s not you if there’s no chaos,” you comment with an undertone. “I’ll like anything you give me, no matter how chaotic or calmly you deliver it.”

He hums for a moment, and you sense the mischief coming from a mile away. The half-serious warning leaves you before you can help it, “Don’t make me eat my words.”

He barks out a laugh at that, coming in to capture your frown in a momentary kiss, giving you one peck after another. You stand in each other’s arms for a long while, barefoot in the kitchen, as you talk about your plans for when the sun eventually comes up. Most of which Chan refused to relay to you anyway, so you were really just making guesses.

His drying hair doesn’t leave your fingers throughout, combing through the strands as you massage his scalp along the way. He melts under the touch, moving the towel around his shoulder way so you can rest your arms on him. He falters slightly at the feeling as he continues to talk.

You can’t help but notice the wonders the kitchen light seems to be doing for him, the blue-ish glaze illuminating the highs of his face and hair, the glowing lines moving past his neck to his shoulders, and undoubtedly casting the rest of the ridges of his body aglow — you aren’t sure if you can handle finding out if you gaze any lower. The little you can see of his eyes past the flop of hair that covers them is sparkling in the low light.

Chan doesn’t stop you as you slot your mouth against his, taking the way the light illuminated his lips as a sign. He’s equally as quick to reciprocate, moving his mouth against yours, almost more eager than you. His hands have left their place on the counter and move to grip your hips instead, pushing your lower half against him with a force that has you breaking away from his lips.

He doesn’t stop, moving his mouth down to leave his own open-mouthed kisses on your jaw as you grip his bare bicep, a content sigh leaving your lips.

“Have a really pretty thing waiting for you when you wake up,” he whispers delicately in your ear, placing a kiss on your earlobe. “The nice satin thing you’ve been eyeing for a while.”

Your breath stops short in your chest, the thought of the pretty piece of lingerie you briefly mentioned you liked a while ago.

“Chan,” you groan at the thought.

He continues to mumble with a slight chuckle, “Don’t know if that’s a present for me or you.”

His hands have migrated everywhere at this point, moving up to squeeze of your breasts in his hold, his other hand continuing to run over your ass and hips. It’s your own hands that drift past his abs to toy with the drawstrings of his pants when you begin to fall impatient, needing to feel him.

Feeling his hard-on through his underwear is easy, and you wonder how long he’s actually been horny with how defined you can already feel him to be. You watch as he grinds into your palm, groaning into your neck at the feeling. You continue your ministrations through his boxers till you feel him wrap his hand around your forearm to yank it out of his pants.

“I’m not fucking you on the kitchen counter,” he says, pulling you out of the blue fluorescent lights and into the hall to your bedroom.

It’s easier for him to discard your clothing with the space he’s given, yanking your shirt off to leave you in your barely-there sleeping shorts. Sparing no second, you watch him push off the soft plush of the mattress, moving away to get rid of his own clothing.

Chan’s lips meet yours once again as he hovers over you on the bed, continuing to feel up your sides as he shoves his tongue into your mouth, massaging it over your own as he continues to push you up the bed.

You arch your back, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, only to find him beating you to it as he unhooks it, flinging the padding somewhere amongst the flown clothes on the floor. The cold hits your chest in a way that has you gasping, his hands immediately cupping over both your breasts before attaching his mouth to a nipple. His other hand toys with your other nipple, rolling the perked bud between his fingers before running his thumb over it repeatedly. It’s so easy to zero in on the feeling of his tongue gliding over the sensitive area, the contrast of his warm mouth, and the air that hits the glistening surface of your skin. You can’t help but hum, hands grazing over his own that pinch and press into your other nipple.

You realize soon enough that his knees are spread just wide enough for you to shove your own leg in between, bringing your knee up to grind it slowly against his crotch, feeling him through his underwear. The motion comes unprovoked, a vibrating groan escaping him as he cursed against your skin.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so impatient.”

Removing his mouth from your chest, he pushes your knee down in haste to give himself room to pull down your shorts, pushing your thighs apart when he’s done as he kneels back. His gaze wanders across your near-bare body, his thumb rubbing circles into your hip as he locks you in place. His eyes hover but choose to remain on the visibly darkened patch on your panties. You feel his fingers move slowly, ghosting over the insides of your thighs, moving ever so close to where you screamed for him.

Right as you’re about to say something out of growing frustration, he hooks his fingers under the waistband of the final obstruction, pulling them down your legs to expose yourself to him completely. His unprovoked compliance comes as a bit of a shock to you, but you assume he’s being nice for the sake of your birthday (not that you’re complaining – anything that gets him in your pants faster counts as an automatic win in your book)

You can feel him massage the skin of your thighs as he stares, making sure you keep your legs wide open for him. His gaze doesn’t wander, you find, locked in as he bites his bottom lip at the sight. His eyes hold a dangerous lace, one that you wish he’d unleash. He all but pushes your thighs even further to get a better look at your undoubtedly sopping wet cunt. It took a lot for you to not attempt to bring your knees together despite the embarrassment – you know he liked to look.

“Chan.” His name leaves your lips in a desperate attempt to get him to do something, anything. His lips all but lift into a curl of trouble.

“What is it, baby?”

“Please,”

“Please, what? I know it’s your birthday, princess, but I won’t know what you want if you won’t tell me.” His eyes graze over your contorted expression, urging you to say it. “Say it, my love.”

“Chan,” you whine. “Touch me. Please.”

His grin morphs into something downright diabolical as he taps your hips. “Get up, baby. On my lap.”

Chan pushes his back on the headboard as he invites you on his lap, your hips over his thighs as the rest of your body lays on the sheets.

It isn’t until then that he finally migrates his hand, placing his middle finger on your clit, spreading your lips apart with his pointer and ring finger. He grazes over it lightly as he moves down to your hole, feeling the pool of arousal that’s accumulated in the area. He gathers your arousal on his fingers, moving back up to pay attention to your clit.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” Chan’s voice comes out hoarse, and it somehow has you gushing even further.

The angle gives him perfect access to work on your cunt as he likes, pushing your legs apart when you’d close them subconsciously. His fingers are merciless as they take turns circling over your nub before rubbing through them up and down. He places open mouthed kisses on your thigh, the one he holds open against his bare chest.

You’re writhing at the feeling, trying your best to not move in his hold too much as you let out the most desperate streams of moans, only encouraging him to keep going. Your hands grope everything in your shaken state: your breasts, his thigh, his arm that holds your legs apart – anything to keep you tied to the feeling.

Chan’s fingers slow before coming to a complete halt, wet fingers trailing up your thighs, leaving a trail of your arousal in their wake. He brings them back, fingers now lower as he traces a lone finger at your entrance. You feel yourself clench at the feeling.

“Fuck!” You clamp your hand over your mouth, the profanity leaving your mouth before you can stop it. Chan pushes that finger into your tight hole, clenching around the digit. He pumps in once before pushing in another.

“Uh-uh,” you hear him tut. Yanking your hand away from your mouth, leading it away. “Let me hear you.”

His statement has you letting out another groan, the sound of his voice adding to the pleasure you’re receiving at the mercy of his fingers. He continues to pump in and out, his other hand moving to continue circling over your clit.

Your back is arching off the sheets at this point, hands desperately gripping the sheets as you throw your head back. The feeling is building to a breaking point, your pants growing louder as your jaw falls slack.

The knot breaks, and it has you fluttering your eyes shut, your mind going completely blank as the only thing that consumed your being becomes Chan’s godly hands. Registering absolutely nothing is easy when he refuses to stop his fingers, letting you ride out your high as far as it would take you. He doesn’t stop, even while you're squirming in his hold from overstimulation.

“Ch-Chan, I can’t!” Your own hands attempt to grasp his arm, his wrists.

Your now blown out pupils catch a playful look on his face as he quit brushing his fingers on your spent cunt, letting you lay back for a breath. Your chest heaves as you attempt to come round from the feeling, vaguely registering Chan, setting your lower half off of his lap. He hovered above your frame, leaving pecks all over your face, neck, and chest, waiting for you to recover.

“Good?” he asks you with a smile once your breathing seemed to have evened out.

“Yeah,” you reply with a laugh, attempting to sit up from your position to kiss him. He lets you.

It isn’t until you’ve pushed him back on the headboard that he realizes what you’re trying to do. You’re legs that straddle him begin to wiggle lower as you detach from his lips, fiddling with the waistband of his boxers to pull them off. He obliges, letting you take the fabric off, watching you as you pump his hard length in your palms.

You doubt you’d ever get over the feeling of having him in your hands, the weight of him fitting into your palm like his dick was meant to fall straight into your hands. Chan is gracious in how he lets you have your way for a few minutes, using his precum as lube to begin pumping him faster and faster.

The feeling is overwhelming, considering how long his lower half has been waiting for this, for you. He reminds himself what he’s really here for and somehow finds it within himself to stop you, flipping you over on the mattress so he’s back to hovering over you.

“Not today, baby.”

“Chan, let me–”

He knows the only way to get you to quit insisting is by occupying your mouth, so that’s exactly what he does as he places his mouth against yours, kneading both your tits under his hands to get you all worked up again. It works as you let out the smallest whine against his mouth, all of that fighting drowning in your chest as you melt into putty in his hands yet again.

Chan continues to tease, bringing his tip to your entrance, circling it before dragging it up to your clit, spreading the mix of both of your arousal all over your cunt. Your hips buck and stutter at the feeling, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

It isn’t long before he’s dragging himself back, tip pushing in hard as he continues his pressure. You’re both moaning at this point, mixing in profanities as he begins to thrust into your cunt, setting a pace for himself. You wrap your arms around his neck as he holds himself in a hover above you.

Soon enough, you feel him begin to brush against a particular spot inside you, one that has you moaning louder than you have all night. It’s almost like he knows what those sounds mean, angling his hips in a way that thrusts directly into that one spot that has you seeing stars.

“Chan, I’m—”

“I know, princess, I know,” he grunts out in response. “Let go, baby.”

And you do, hurtling into your second orgasm as you clutch the forearm he’s rested on the bed. Your back that arches off the sheets is met with his hand that runs over the expanse, coaxing the feeling out with the intimate touch.

You feel him pull out, moving away from you to let you breathe. You want to have the energy to tell him to come close to you again, but it sires difficult when you can barely breathe. You find yourself not needing to open your mouth, though, as you realize Chan’s mercy lasted barely a few seconds before you feel him push into your entrance again with no warning.

The gasp that leaves you is muffled by the mouth that’s put on yours as Chan fully engulfs you in his arms again. You take the opportunity to touch him, wrapping your arms around his torso, hands roaming as you feel up the expanse of his back and shoulders. He’s thrusting into you slower than before, his moans coming in directly into your ear now. The sound is enough to have you gushing around him again, your fingers finding his nape to tangle them in his hair.

“Fuck — you’re not keeping me in,” he groans, and you suddenly realize why he was going so slow.

It wasn’t like you could help it when you continued to clench around him like your life depended on it, but he didn’t seem to really mind it either when you felt his own cock twitch. Once he’s had quite enough, he pulls back momentarily to push your legs up against your body. Your thighs are pressing against your chest as you register that he’s basically folded you in half, giving him the room he so desired to properly fuck you.

“Keep those legs up for me, baby,” he orders as he helps, letting you rest them against his shoulders.

He slips himself out before going back in entirely, moving his hips at a pace that has you seeing stars. You feel him move his head to kiss the inside of your thighs, dragging his tongue over every surface he can reach. With his mouth occupied, the only sounds that encase the room are your own string of moans, paired with the absolutely lewd squelch that comes with every slap of Chan’s hips.

With the force he’s going at, you don’t doubt the bruises that’ll grace your lower half once he’s done. The fact that this wasn’t gonna be the end of it has you wondering how you’ll handle the next 24 hours with him. You decide you’ll think about that later as you let the feeling of him engulf you now.

“Oh, I’m so close,” he announces, and you can tell by the way his pace grows increasingly sloppier. He lets down one of your legs to free up his hand to bring back to your bruised clit, rubbing haphazard circles to make up for his also haphazard hip pace.

You can’t imagine minding, though, especially not right now when the desperation of it all has you building up your third high, “Me too, fuck, me too.”

Chan thrusts into you a couple more times before you announce that you're cumming, and the way you're clenching down on him harder than ever before has him letting out the loudest moan of the night as he begins to cum mere seconds after you. You can feel his hot liquid shoot into your walls, the slickness making your head spin even further.

You’re near passing out when Chan pulls out of you, flopping down on the bed next to you. Neither of you speak as you catch your breath for the nth time that night, somehow finding it within yourself to turn over to land your head on Chan’s outstretched arm. He doesn’t hesitate to bring you in as you curl up under his arm, head on his shoulder.

“Where do you get all that energy from?” you mumble into his arm.

He laughs a little at the question, dropping a kiss on your head, “Comes naturally when you have such a pretty thing to please.”

You snort in response, trying to hide the very apparent fluttering in your chest. Even after the amount of time you’ve spent having him all for yourself, you doubt the butterflies would ever leave – especially when he continues to drop his corny yet effective lines at any given opportunity.

“Shut up.”

“I don’t think you want me to,” he retorts, lolling his head to look at you, hair flopping on his forehead as he smiles at the sight of you.

“Fair enough.”

You both giggle a little, a little dazed at the cloud in the room. It falls into comfortable silence after, as you continue to gain your bearings after a session like that. Your mind begins to wander, thoughts landing you in the kitchen where the red flowers are now decorated.

“I know you’re a sap, which is why I’m asking you this,” you start, shifting to look at him. His face is glistening. “But what made you choose those flowers in specific?”

He thinks for a moment.

“The dahlia itself means… lasting grace. Beauty that remains, love to be declared.”

You stare at him as he licks his lips, “Red dahlias, those mean perseverance. Strength, power.”

He shifts so he isn’t on his back anymore, facing you entirely. “I don’t know much about flower talk, but I hoped both of those things together would tell you that… my love for you is stronger than the years. And I intend to prove it to you if you’ll let me.”

You’re tearing up now, and he can see it in the way your eyes turn from shiny to an overwhelming pool. Before he can say anything, you’re lurching forward to kiss him, smashing your mouths together in a way that you can only call dramatic, your tears dropping to hit his cheeks.

He brings a hand up to steady you, cupping your face to hold you there as you continue to peck his lips over and over.

“Thank you for loving me,” you mumble against his lips in a nasally voice.

“Thank you for loving me. Thank you,” he kisses you again, “for being born.”

You laugh a little, wet cheeks and sniffles to complete the look.

Chan can only wipe your tears away with a brush of his hand and hope that those tears remain happy, with him, for the rest of your days.

#seventeen #svt #dino #chan #lee chan #dino fluff #dino smut #dino scenarios #dino x reader #dino imagines #dino fics #lee chan fluff #lee chan smut #lee chan imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #em.writes

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bridenore · 5 months ago

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HD eight year fic recs : 50k+ words

Here are a few drarry eight year fic recs that are between 30k and 50k words. Posted in alphabetical order, as always.

You can access my rec lists for eight year fics that have less than 10k words here, between 10k and 20k here, between 20k and 30k here and between 30k and 50k here.

Arms Wide Open: Hogwarts by Sita_Z [28k]

Harry did not expect his Eighth Year to involve any more investigations of abandoned bathrooms. Nor did he expect to come across Draco Malfoy there, alone, bleeding and in late-stage labor. Arms Wide Open: Grimmauld Place by Sita_Z [36k] After leaving Hogwarts, Harry and Draco face an uncertain future, raising Scorpius and dealing with the wizarding world’s reaction to their situation. Sequel to Arms Wide Open: Hogwarts.

At Your Service by @faith2wood [95k]

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There’s only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic [88k]

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

Beholden by @faith2wood [123k]

Draco Malfoy might not be a killer, but it turns out he's an effective painkiller. If stopping pain was all Draco's touch did, things might not be so complicated, but either way Harry can't afford to be choosy.

The Changing Lights by lazywonderland [142k]

Harry returns for an eighth year following the end of the war and realises that although he's put his own animosity towards Malfoy aside, no one else seems to have done the same. When a hex leaves his oldest rival in the body of a female and ridicule doubles, Harry discovers that his hero complex is a difficult thing to fight.

Exceeds Eggspectations by Elle Gray (LGray) [61k]

Eighth year. Winter. Christmas has been and gone. Harry’s just been dumped and so has Malfoy. There’s a stupid fake baby assignment to be done, and what’s the harm in doing it together, really, when life is this shit already? This is not slow burn, this is a roman candle pointed at a pile of dry twigs that represent your heart.

Firebond by Oakstone730 / @i-didnt-wanna-do-it [94k]

Draco is forced to tutor Harry in potions. A slight problem occurs.

Golden Age by @lol-zeitgeistic [52k]

The Celtic druids once made a decision that kept magic in abundance in Britannia, but they couldn’t account for the technological advances Muggles would make centuries later. Now magic is dying on the isles, and this is not a dark lord that Harry can fight. OR: Harry Potter doesn’t save the world this time, but he does get a lot of hugs.

Graceless Heart by shushu_yaoi_lj / @orange-peony [132k]

Harry is lost and broken after the war. He has gone to countless funerals, broken up with Ginny, moved back into Grimmauld Place—which feels darker and dirtier than ever before despite how much he tries to fix it. He feels lonely and desperate, but he won’t ask for help, and he still can’t cry. When he agreed to help the Aurors at Malfoy Manor over the summer, he thought that he would be breaking dark curses. Harry never thought that he would actually spend his days sorting out dusty books with Draco Malfoy, or teaching him how to cook. Little by little, as they begin to navigate their life post-war, Harry and Draco become intimate…in more ways than Harry could have ever expected.

Helix by Saras_Girl [92k]

Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again. [2014 advent fic]

It’s No Great Mystery by @agentmoppet [57k]

Who on earth decided that bringing back the Yule Ball for their eighth year would be a good idea? It feels like the worst day of Harry’s life, watching everyone get glammed up like the war never happened, like the last Triwizard Tournament wasn’t such a colossal failure. And then it happens again. And again. And again.

Manticoria by @lol-zeitgeistic [70k]

In the dangerous days after Voldemort’s fall, Harry struggles to find a way to be with Draco—again. But as the magical world threatens to die all around them, it might be more difficult than he thought. Includes dying wards, dying beasts, and love struggling to live; sentient magic, wandlore, Founder lore, potion lore, and ward lore; and of course there is Zacharias Smith to ruin everything, as usual.

Mental by sara_holmes [156k]

Harry has had quite enough of sharing his mind with someone else, thankyouverymuch. A miscast Legilimecy spell says otherwise.

My Little Berserker by @aelys-althea [105k]

Eighth year was supposed to be calm. Moderated. Peaceful, even. Draco returned to escape the chaos wrought upon his shambles of a life and Harry to flee the responsibility of a world that sees him as something greater than was truly possible. Hogwarts was a safe haven, right? At least it was until Hagrid comes up with the wonderful idea to introduce some additional members to the student body of the fluffier variety. Hagrid doesn’t do moderated - where’s the fun in that?

The Nightmare Club by Elle Gray [85k]

Hermione and Ron are going back to Hogwarts to do N.E.W.T.s, Ginny isn’t. Harry hasn’t decided, until he has, in front of the Wizengamot and now he’s responsible for Malfoy as well. A tale of enemies who learn to get along, get it wrong and get it on. Everything is purple, some things are on fire and no-one is sleeping properly. But don’t worry, there’s tea!

Not in the Hands of Boys by @fourth-rose [130k] *incomplete

Once the final battle is won, life must go on, although it can be even harder to master than death. Back at Hogwarts for his final year of school, Harry tries to cope with everything he's been through. As the world around him struggles for a way back to normality, he is forced to realise that in the long run, living takes a lot more courage than dying.

Objects of Desire by Azrael Geffen [400k+]

The dream team sign a magical contract promising to lose their virginities within the year, they soon fix on the objects of their desires, but will the bitterness left in the wake of the war prove too hurtful for love to exist?

Ocean of Storms by Bounding-Heart [113k]

The war is over and Harry has returned to help rebuild Hogwarts. He longs to move forwards, but the past refuses to let him go. The castle is full of ghosts: haunting nightmares, the deaths he couldn’t prevent, and the age-old rivalry that Draco Malfoy seems determined to maintain.

Owl Was Well by @fencer-x [66k]

Draco Malfoy is not an owl, really he isn’t. He simply assumes the shape of one on occasion when he wants to find a bit of privacy—a goal entirely thwarted because Harry Potter doesn’t understand you can’t just grab any old bird from the Owlery and force it to send your missives and deliver your packages.

The Promise of Summer by Omi_Ohmy [66k]

How was Harry supposed to know that coming back for eighth year would be so confusing? Everything is the same, and yet not the same. And nowhere is this more obvious than with Draco Malfoy. Harry finds himself once more watching and following Malfoy, trying to work him out. When they are drawn together to heal the castle, Harry doesn’t just find Malfoy - he also finds himself.

red and green are complimentary colours by ace_0fhearts [88k]

After the war Hermione manages to convince Harry to go back to Hogwarts for his eighth year. Expecting an uneventful year of classes and rooming with the other Gryffindor boys, he’s surprised when McGonagall tells him he’ll be sharing a room with Draco Malfoy. Now Harry has to get through a year of arguments and awkward silences. Or he would, if Malfoy would stop ignoring him and moping around the castle alone. Or: Draco and Harry fall in love through sleepless nights and late night quidditch games

Reparo by amalin [84k]

Voldemort’s final defeat does not mean Harry Potter’s troubles are over; far from it. In the aftermath of war, he returns to a Hogwarts that is fractured and divided, but this is no break that can be fixed with a spell. New owls, fading scars, surprising alliances—and along the way, the hardest task of all, to live with it.

Right Hand Red by @lqtraintracks [73k]

Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy. Malfoy felt inevitable.

The Silent World Within You by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [95k]

Harry only wanted Malfoy for one night, one birthday. It wasn’t meant to be anything more.

spins madly on by asofthaven [56k]

As part of his probation, Draco Malfoy returns to Hogwarts to complete his N.E.W.T.s. Gobstones, the political machinations of the Hogwarts student body, and one Harry James Potter captures Draco’s attention instead.

Things Worth Knowing by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [164k]

After the Battle, Harry thinks he’s left Hogwarts for good, but Minerva insists that all students return for an Eighth Year if they wish to sit for NEWTs in the spring, and Harry needs those NEWTs to go into the Aurors. Draco’s just grateful not to be in Azkaban. Or the Manor. He’s hoping he can steer clear of Potter this year and grapple with his own problems. Unfortunately for him, Potter appears to be one of those problems. And that’s not even addressing the fact that Potter’s got serious issues of his own, which Draco realises as he’s forced to share an Eighth Year dormitory room and several classes with the Gryffindor Git. If only they can make it through the year without killing each other, it should be all right, shouldn’t it?

Written on the Heart by who_la_hoop [113k]

Harry doesn’t mind that so many Slytherins from his year have returned to finish their NEWTs, really he doesn’t. It’s just – do they have to be so friendly? He’s not prejudiced, really he’s not. It’s just – they’ve got to be up to something, right? Unnerved by the attention he’s attracting from everyone – the Slytherins are the least of it, to be fair – and struggling with a raft of changes to Hogwarts itself, Harry wishes he could be happy that one constant remains: Draco Malfoy really fucking hates him. When he’s hit by an illegal love-spell though, Harry finds he has more to worry about than whether or not Blaise Zabini actually wants to be his friend. For if everyone affected has been blessed – or cursed, by the look on Malfoy’s face – with a magical tattoo revealing the name of their soulmate, what does it mean that Harry’s skin remains completely bare?

You’ve Got Owl Post by @slyth-princess [50k]

After discovering muggle romantic comedies during winter break, Pansy Parkinson and Luna Lovegood decide to launch an ambitious project called You’ve Got Owl Post which matches up students through an enchanted notebook so they can send letters to each other without knowing who is at the other end. It is an instant hit. Harry, without his friends knowing, is one of the first to join. And he rapidly finds a kindred soul on the other side of the pages. In real life, however, he is once again plagued by Draco Malfoy. After fighting in class, McGonagall has had enough. So, as punishment and a lesson, she assigns them the running of that years dueling club. Everyone, including Harry and Draco, assumes it will be a disaster. However, sometimes the people you think you know the best are the ones who can surprise you the most. A story of letters, bets, friendship, love, forgiveness, and discovering who you really are.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

#my recs #drarry #drarry recs #theme rec

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