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you-know-honey · 10 days ago

Text

Dance

Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Jayce has a plan: convince Viktor to attend the most important charity party in Piltover. But, as expected, Viktor refuses. What he didn't expect was that his assistant would show up at his workshop with a dazzling dress… and an invitation that Jayce secretly gave her. Could he really refuse now?

N/A: English is not my first language, feel free to correct me in the comments and I'll update it. Remember share if you liked it.

Viktor was focused, hunched over his desk as he fine-tuned one of the delicate pieces of hexcore. The dim lamplight illuminated his tired face, with dark circles under his eyes and strands of hair falling across his forehead. He didn’t notice Jayce’s entrance until the echo of the door closing resonated through the workshop.

“Viktor, old friend,” Jayce said, his tone bright and already foreshadowing trouble. “I have news.”

“If it has to do with that charity party, the answer is still no,” Viktor replied without looking at him, adjusting the tool in his hand.

Jayce sighed dramatically, dropping his weight into one of the nearby chairs.

“Mel has insisted that we go. We represent the future of Piltover, remember? Innovators, role models…” Jayce made a wide gesture with his hands, as if he were giving a speech.

“If Mel insists, you can represent us alone,” Viktor replied indifferently. He knew he wasn’t really required here, inviting him was just a formality. Then he looked up and looked at him seriously. “I don’t have time for parties, there’s a lot of work to finish here.”

Not to mention that dancing was something he had crossed off the list of things he could still do.

His friend really wanted Viktor to go, mostly because he had been very down lately, he barely left the lab and there were days where he would find him with his face on his notebooks after falling asleep at some point in the early morning, he was the first to arrive and the last to leave, if he ever did.

Jayce watched him in silence for a moment, before giving him a sly smile.

“Okay, I understand. You can’t just drop your projects. But what if I gave you a reason to go?”

Viktor frowned, distrusting his tone.

—What kind of reason?

Jayce didn't answer. Instead, his smile widened as he glanced towards the door of the workshop, as if he was waiting for something. He had recently discovered what he thought was a clue to the kind of feelings Viktor had for you, the long longing glances, the little smiles, the casual approaches of his hands, he answering any of your curiosities and letting you sing soft melodies while he worked were all very obvious clues to his eyes. Viktor followed the direction of his gaze just as the door opened.

And there you were.

Viktor felt the air leave his lungs. You weren’t wearing your usual practical attire. Instead, you were sporting an elegant iridescent white dress that flowed like water with your every move. The color perfectly complemented your skin tone, and the design highlighted your figure in a way Viktor couldn’t ignore. Your hair was delicately arranged, and a glint in your eyes suggested you was nervous, yet excited.

“Y/N?” Viktor asked, still processing what he was seeing.

You gave him a shy, yet warm smile.

“Jayce invited me as your date,” you said, your tone a mix of apology and expectation. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Viktor slowly turned to Jayce, who now wore an expression of unabashed triumph.

“What have you done?” Viktor asked, his voice low, but laced with disbelief.

“I gave you a reason to go,” Jayce replied, raising his hands in an innocent gesture. “I knew you wouldn’t accept if there wasn’t something… or someone to make the evening interesting for you.”

Viktor felt his face heat up as his thoughts struggled to organize themselves. Of course he felt a certain special affection for you. It had been a secret he had jealously kept, even from himself, and he had refrained from dwelling on it too much, after all they were coworkers. But now, seeing you there, so beautiful, waiting for his answer, completely disarmed him.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Viktor,” you said softly. “I just thought it would be… nice.”

Viktor’s heart skipped a beat. There was something in your tone that made him immediately doubt his usual refusal. For the first time in a long time, the idea of getting away from his work, even for a few hours, didn’t seem so far-fetched. Mostly because he didn’t seem able to wipe that beautiful smile off your face by refusing. His mind searched for excuses for himself, to justify that he had now changed his mind, and that this change had nothing to do with you.

Finally, he stood up with the help of his staff, running a hand through his messy hair, although it didn't help much.

"If you insist…" he murmured, looking at you more than at Jayce. "I suppose I can make an exception."

Jayce smiled widely.

"Perfect. Now, change. You can't go dressed like that."

Viktor let out a resigned sigh as he took the suitcase that Jayce had left with his suit, in another attempt to convince him, but he couldn't stop a small smile from appearing on his lips as he headed to the bathroom to change.

When he left he felt a little silly, he tried to arrange his hair in front of the mirror but it was totally impossible. Jayce see proudly that his plan had paid off, but the most important look for Viktor and the one he looked for as soon as he opened the door was yours. He watched your pupils dilate rapidly as you saw him come out in that elegant suit. Your hands went to your mouth trying to hide a smile. Viktor forced himself to look away to avoid them seeing the small blush that ran across his pale cheeks.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” You quickly went to open one of the tool cabinets, rummaging through the back with the curious gaze of the boys behind you. After a moment, you pulled out a small box, and as if you were a little girl skipping, you approached Viktor with it. “I hope you like it.”

Viktor looked at you in surprise as he took the delicate box in his hands. He opened it delicately to discover a maroon tie between the strands of paper. His gaze traveled from the gift to you several times before giving you a warm smile as he took the tie between his slender fingers.

“Would you have the honor?” You nodded with a smile, as your hands took the tie you got closer to him, managing to smell the coffee aroma that you loved so much, you brought the tie behind his neck inside the collar of his shirt and tied it perfectly over his chest. “Thank you.”

The evening was everything Viktor had expected: lavish, loud, and filled with Piltover’s elites. Laughter and lively conversation echoed between walls adorned with gilded chandeliers and silk curtains. Viktor had always considered these events a waste of time.

When they arrived, Viktor could barely take his eyes off you. Jayce had already gone after the councilwoman, leaving them alone, as Viktor knew he would. His discomfort was evident in the way his hands played with the handle of his cane, which he tried to hide as soon as he began to walk through the crowd. You seemed to radiate confidence with every step, politely greeting the other attendees, as if these events were common for you.

Viktor, however, felt out of place. He held his cane tighter than usual, trying not to trip, but it was difficult given the state of his leg and the huge crowd.

“Relax,” you whispered with a reassuring smile as you tangled your arm through his. “Is it that bad?”

Viktor looked at you, his eyes softening instantly.

“Easy for you to say. You seem made for this.”

She let out a soft laugh.

“Not as much as you think. I’m just trying to look like it.”

A waiter passed by with a tray of wine glasses, taking a couple, offering another to Viktor. He reluctantly grew taller, though he hesitated before taking a sip.

From a safe distance, Jayce watched the scene with a satisfied smile. Mel approached him, arching an eyebrow in curiosity.

“What did you do this time?”

“A little push in the right direction,” Jayce replied, nodding towards where you stood with Viktor.

Mel let out a light laugh, shaking her head.

“I didn’t know you were a matchmaker.”

Jayce said alarmingly, shrugging.

“I’m not. But sometimes, a man needs help to see what’s right in front of him.”

Meanwhile, you and Viktor had climbed the stairs to the second floor, so you were more isolated from the hustle and bustle, it was a big job for him, but he really wanted to get away from the crowd. Plus the second floor was an even more beautiful place than the main hall, full of huge stained glass windows and a balcony at the end.

“I never imagined I’d end up here,” you said, looking at the lights that dyed the floor thanks to the stained glass. “When I was a child, I looked at the towers of Piltover from Zaun and dreamed of seeing them up close.”

“Zaun leaves its mark on all of us,” Viktor said softly, his fingers drumming against the handle of his cane. “But it’s not always a bad thing. Sometimes, it pushes us to… be better.”

You looked at him with a shy smile, your eyes meeting his.

"Do you think we've accomplished that?"

Viktor was silent for a moment sighing before answering, then slightly tilted his head at you.

"You certainly have."

Your eyes widened in surprise, a slight blush coloring your cheeks.

"That's quite a compliment coming from you."

The sound of music filled the air, and the guests began to make their way to the main hall for the dance. Jayce didn't hesitate to take Mel's hand and head out onto the dance floor.

"It's time to dance" you said, looking over the railing at the rest of the guests dancing with their partners with some longing.

"I don't dance" Viktor answered immediately. It was one of the things he had crossed off the list of things he could still do.

You looked at Viktor, shaking your head.

"I can't…"he didn't like saying that at all, but he didn't want her to be disappointed for failing even in the attempt to do it, all his life he had known that those things weren't for him, so he didn't give himself the time to even try. "I'm sorry to disappoint you." Viktor approached the railing, to look at all those couples dancing next to you.

"Disappoint me?" you answered incredulously, carefully bringing one of your hands closer to his "I don't think you can ever do that."

Your pinky gently caressed his hand, it was okay if he didn't want to dance, you had already witnessed what the pain in his leg could cause him and you didn't want that to happen today. You were pleased to just have his presence by your side, that was enough for you.

Viktor sighed, feeling guilty for 'ruining your night' he looked at you and knew he had to take the risk. He reached out a hand to you, more shaky than he would have liked.

“This time I might try.”

You took his hand carefully, leading him away from the railing, to his own little dance floor. As the music continued, Viktor tried to focus on following your steps, but he realized his attention was completely fixed on you, the way you held his hand, the way he felt your body close to his, your warmth against the cold of your skin. He couldn't help but blush as he finally worked up the courage to look at your face, your smile, the way you looked at him as if he were more than just an inventor addicted to his work.

For the first time in a long time, Viktor allowed himself to let go of the cane that made an almost imperceptible sound as it fell to the ground, he allowed himself to be enveloped by the moment, by the sensations, by you. He forced his leg to be useful to him for the first time, slowly under the silver lights of the moon, the outside world faded away, the pressure of his work, everything that tormented him left him to live the moment with you.

"Viktor, your cane…" you rushed quickly to grab it, thinking that you had dropped it by mistake but his hand in yours stopped you.

"I want to try it like this." He said as he extended his other hand for you to take. You weren't sure if that was the best thing for him, but the confidence on his face, the way he looked as if he were begging you to let him live that moment like that ended up convincing you.

Jayce, watching the scene from a safe distance at the bottom of the stairs, smiled to himself.

"It's about time." he said before Mel appeared and he happily let himself be dragged back to the dance floor.

The dance continued, and although Viktor's movements were a little stiff, your slow, gentle movements managed to relax him little by little. Despite his lack of experience, Viktor was surprised to find a natural rhythm next to you. The murmur of the rest of the guests, the echo of laughter and conversations, faded as your eyes remained fixed on his, with your hands resting on his shoulders, and his own hands caressing your waist.

"See? It wasn't so terrible after all," you murmured with a smile as you buried your face in his neck.

Viktor looked down, his lips curving into a slight smile. But he knew he couldn't last much longer standing without his cane, he was starting to feel that stabbing pain in his leg, he tried to control it as best he could, he didn't want that moment with you to end.

"It's… bearable." He tried to keep his body as relaxed as possible, to avoid you noticing and he feeling like a dying man again.

You laughed, a sound so warm and sincere that it caused Viktor to have a strange tingle in his chest.

"Always so enthusiastic?" you joked.

"Maybe the environment has an influence" he answered, keeping his tone sarcastic but with an unusual softness that you didn't miss.

A comfortable silence settled between the two of them as they continued to sway to the music. Viktor, normally so oblivious to social interactions, couldn't help but wonder how someone like you, so kind and brilliant, was more than comfortable being in his life. And more importantly, how he had been lucky enough to have you stay in it.

As the music began to become softer, both of their movements became slower, until they stopped completely. You stayed close, your hands still joined, until he spoke in a voice barely audible to you:

"Thank you for joining me tonight."

You nodded.

"Thank you… for making it bearable."

He smiled, his gaze lowering for a moment before meeting yours again, as you picked up his cane from the floor and surrendered.

"Thank you. We should do this more often, don't you think?"

The suggestion took you by surprise, you didn't think Viktor would want to repeat something like that, but instead of responding with a negative and referring to his leg, you simply said:

"Maybe." with a sweet smile, now that you both shared more than just work. Without the bustle and inquisitive glances of the attendees, it was as if they were in a world of their own.

The party had reached its moment of recess, with laughter and soft music filling the air. The guests began to disperse throughout the place and some began to climb the stairs. The moment you shared was abruptly broken when a visibly drunk councilman stumbled towards you with a smirk on his face. His ostentatious attire and wine glass in hand made him seem out of place in the serene atmosphere you had created.

“Ah, there are the strangers!” he exclaimed, his tone heavy with mockery. His eyes assessed you both, lingering a little longer on you, an expression that made you shudder in disgust. You had received such looks before, you knew them and knew they led to nothing good.

Viktor tensed instantly, straightening up with difficulty and leaning more heavily on his cane to take a step forward.

“Can we help you with something?” Viktor asked coldly, clearly uncomfortable with the man’s presence.

The councilman let out an exaggerated laugh.

“Oh, I don’t need any help from you.” Though I must say, Heimerdinger has strange priorities, letting a couple of second-class citizens mingle among us.

Your brow furrowed and you clenched your fists, more than ready to throw him down the stairs and pretend he slipped. But before you could say anything, the man turned to Viktor with a sly grin.

“You… Viktor… How admirable that you accomplish so much in such… poor health. It’s a miracle you can stay on your feet, don’t you think? Though, of course, when all you have to offer is your brain, I guess there’s not much else you can use to impress.”

The comment hit like a whiplash, but Viktor didn’t respond immediately, it wasn’t the first time he heard someone talk about him like that, he didn’t care at all. His grip on the cane tightened just because you were there, and his jaw clenched, of all people in the world, he didn’t want you to be the one to hear that. He remained silent, his gaze fixed on the man.

The councilor, seeing that he wasn’t getting a response, turned his attention to you again. His eyes scanned you shamelessly, his smile twisting even more.

“And you, my dear… I guess it makes sense that you’re here with him. The girls of Zaun always know how to… adapt to circumstances, don’t they? A perfect match: a disembodied brain and a… well, you know.”

Indignation took hold of you. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, but before you could respond or move to fit his nose with a punch, Viktor grabbed your hand, stopping the hurricane of thoughts in your mind.

“Stop it,” Viktor said, his voice low but firm.

The councilman raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise.

“Oh, did you hit a nerve? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No,” Viktor interrupted, taking a step forward, despite the obvious annoyance the movement caused him. “Don’t be sorry. And I don’t want your fake apologies. Just… shut your mouth and get out.”

The man snorted, but before he could say anything else, you faced him, walking steadily in front of him, your voice clear and determined.

“It must be exhausting carrying so much shit around,” you said, with an icy smile. “But I guess I couldn’t expect anything else from someone whose only virtue is his last name.”

The councilman looked at you, surprised by your bravery, and then snorted before turning to leave, muttering something unintelligible and spilling half of his glass of wine on the floor.

When you were alone again, the air was still tense, your fists still clenched at your sides. Viktor finally let out a long sigh, closing his eyes for a moment.

“You shouldn’t have… faced him,” he said softly. “I’m used to his usual nonsense.”

You looked at him with a determined expression.

“And you shouldn’t bear that in silence. No one deserves to be treated like that, especially you. They should lick your shoes, thanks to you this city really became the city of progress. You shouldn’t have to get used to it, Viktor.” You intertwined your hand with his, like an instinct you couldn’t ignore.

He looked down at their intertwined hands. He could feel the warmth of your touch breaking through the cold barrier he had built up over the years.

“I don’t believe his words, they’re irrelevant to me,” he finally admitted, his voice laced with honesty.

You gently squeezed his hand, forcing him to look at you.

“Then stand up for yourself, because you know what I believe? I believe you’re more than just a brilliant brain, Viktor. You’re not just a man with a cane or someone who comes from Zaun. You’re so much more than that, a genius, a visionary. There’s so much about you that’s amazing besides your wit.”

Viktor let out a short, dry laugh, but there was a spark of something else in his expression. Maybe gratitude, maybe something deeper that he didn’t dare name yet.

“You’re… persistent,” he said, with a slight smile that quickly faded as he looked back into your eyes. “But I don’t understand why.”

You tilted your head, confused.

“Why, what?”

Viktor looked away, unsure of how to continue, but he knew the words were already on the edge of his lips, and he couldn’t turn back.

“Why do you care so much about me? Why are you still here, by my side, despite everything. Helping me with everything, always taking care of me, looking at me as if there was nothing more interesting than me when I talk to you…even now.”

You looked at him for a long moment with a huge blush caught in your cheeks, and then, with a warmth in your voice that almost disarmed him, you answered, “Because I see you, Viktor. I see who you really are, and… I care about you. Much more than I should.”

The world seemed to stop in that instant. Viktor swallowed, feeling the air grow heavier, but also clearer at the same time.

“Y/N…” His voice was a whisper, as if he was taste out your name in a different, more intimate context that even he didn’t know about.

Their eyes met again, and this time, Viktor didn't look away, just watching your eyes sparkle and your pupils widen, it warmed his heart to know it was because you were looking at him.

"I should tell you now, but well…it's something new."

You smile softly, giving him some relief.

"You don't need to be good at it. Just tell me what you feel."

Viktor took a deep breath, as if he was preparing for a leap he had feared for a long time.

"I admire you. Not just for your intelligence or your ability to put up with my…quirks. But because you make me feel different…alive. With you, I don't feel alone. With you, I feel like…I can be something more."

His words were clumsy, but the sincerity in them was undeniable.

“And I think… I feel something really deep for you, Y/N.”

The silence that followed was overwhelming, but not because you were hesitating. But because you were taking in each word, feeling them deeply. Slowly, a smile spread across your face, and with a determined step, you closed the distance between you.

“That’s good, Viktor,” you whispered, leaning in just enough for him to hear each word clearly. “Because I’m already in love with you.”

Viktor looked at you, a flash of something soft and warm crossing his eyes.

“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice almost a whispered gasp. Despite everything he believed made him unworthy, you always saw him as something more.

The air seemed to vibrate between you, charged with an energy neither of you could explain but both of you understood. As the lights of Piltover continued to shine in the distance, the two of them towered over high society, standing together in a pure, private moment.

Jayce, who had been watching the scene with a mix of satisfaction and pride, decided not to interrupt. Mel, at his side, looked at him with an arched eyebrow.

“Happy with your masterpiece?” she asked, taking a sip of her glass.

“More than I imagined,” Jayce replied, crossing his arms as a triumphant smile lit up his face. “Viktor deserved it, although he’ll probably hate me tomorrow.”

“Oh, I don’t think he’ll hate you,” Mel said, watching the couple. “Maybe he’ll even thank you… eventually.”

As the night progressed and the lights in the hall grew dimmer, you and Viktor remained close, away from the bustle of the rest of the guests. For the first time in a long time, Viktor wasn’t thinking about the Hexcore, or his work, or his body, or the expectations he had placed on himself.

At that moment, there were only the two of them, and that, for Viktor, was a discovery as fascinating as any scientific breakthrough.

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mermaidfanficlibrary · 1 year ago

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If only I could hold you through a screen

Characters: Venti, Zhongli, Xiao, Ei, Yae Miko, Nahida, Wanderer, Furina, Neuvillette

Summary: Self Aware Archons and their companions react to you crying as you stare at them in the character screen, they try to comfort you but all they hear you say is "I wish you were here with me."

Warnings: Reader is crying, possessive behavior, immense anger, violent thoughts

A/U: Self aware genshin AU

A/n: IM BACK FROM THE DEAD GUYS!!! This is platonic on Nahida's end

VENTI

He was devastated as you gently sobbed, staring at his character in the character menu. He only wished to play you a song to ease the pain you were feeling. Who or what could make a God, no, the creator cry? He was more upset the more he thought of the possibilities of what made you break down.

“I-I…wish you…were with me.”

As those words spilled out of your mouth, all choked out with sobs following each word, Venti could feel a tear roll down his face. Venti pulled out his lyre, doing one of his idle animations in hopes of cheering you up. On his side, he was playing you the most relaxing tune in all of Tevat!

But it was blocked by the code. You could distantly hear it, however, if you listened close enough. You drift off as you focus on the secret melody, leaving Venti with a solemn smile. Seeing your peaceful sleeping face brought the Anemo Archon a sense of calm.

As your screen dimmed due to inactivity, the more he wished to hug and comfort you. He couldn’t wish for anything more than to wipe your tears away and comfort you. He gently slowed the tune as your screen turned off. There was only one thought he had, and whispered out to comfort himself.

“One day, no tears will be shed when I’m with you, my dear god.”

ZHONGLI

He didn’t understand when you just started sobbing when you stared at him in the character menu. He started to panic the more you cried staring at him. Something in him broke the longer he heard you cry. He thought he had did something wrong to hurt you, but that suspicion was broken when you spoke through broken sobs.

“I wish you were with me…”

That’s when his heart shattered. He started to mumble to himself, a mix of comforting words directed at you and words comforting himself. The more you focused on him, the more you could hear him speak outside his code. Out of anger, he did his idle with his little rock spinning around him.

He wished it hit whoever, or whatever, had hurt you. Seeing you cry brought this strong protectiveness over you. Seeing you this fragile was new to him, and the fact that the creator could be sad slightly scared him. He wished for nothing more than to be there to comfort you.

Due to the exhaustion of crying, you started to fall asleep. The more your screened dimmed more and more as you dozed off to sleep, Zhongli could only imagine one thing in his mind. He mumbled it out loud, and you smiled as you could faintly hear it.

“I will protect you soon, there will be no need for you to feel any more tears roll down your pretty cheeks.”

XIAO

The fact that such a higher being such as yourself could cry surprised him. And him not being able to handle human like emotions didn’t help either. He only stared in disbelief and guilt as he couldn’t be there for you. He’s asked those around him what he should do when someone close to him cries, but never thought he needed to try the advice he was given with you.

Your broken sobs did so much to his already aching heart. And hearing you scream into a nearby cushion made him even more angry. He wanted to purge whatever or whoever did this to you. You stared at his character, he was doing his mask idle due to his increasing anger and sadness watching you, which had only increased as you mumbled to him in broken sobs.

“I w-wish y-you were h-here with me.”

His anger only increased, he tried so hard to keep his adeptal energy under control. Nothing could stop his racing mind and what could have happened to you out of playing the game. He wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. Seeing you in this much pain, straining to talk as you sobbed into a cushion, didn’t help his urges.

He calmed down as he saw your sleeping face. You dozed off, and his eyes were stuck on your resting eyes. A wave of peace had cleared his angry head, his fists now relaxing. As your screen dimmed, his voice was faint and soft.

“Nothing will make you cry ever again when I’m around, I swear it.”

Your tears fell as you stared at the Raiden Shogun, the puppet, in the character screen. Sensing your saddened presence, Ei had switched her consciousness to see what that matter was. Her eyes widened as you stared at her with a heavy breath and shaky eyes. She didn’t understand what had gotte you so upset.

Seeing you cry hurt her so much as she stared at you through the puppet’s eyes. Ei wanted nothing more than your happiness to last for eternity. Her electro energy was becoming too much, while her consciousness possessed the puppet you had stared at. Her electro ball animation seemed a lot more aggressive than normal as she heard your screaming voice.

“I wish you were here with me!”

She felt touched at first that you wanted her with you. She wanted you with her too for so long. But your scream made her anger even more prominent. She couldn’t bring herself to look away as you choked back sobs, your breath uneven. The more you calmed down, the more she started to relax.

She saw your exhausted, tear stained face and felt her heart, outside the puppet, long for your embrace. She wanted nothing more than for you to be in her Plane of Euthymia, where no one would ever hurt you. Your soft breaths made her smile as your tears stopped. As the screen dimmed, her soothing voice spoke.

“You will be safe with me soon enough, my dearest creator.”

YAE MIKO

She seemed confused at first as you were stuck on the character menu. But seeing your tears made her quickly understand what was going on. Someone had hurt you, and they needed to be dealt with. Your crying got louder and she couldn’t help her growing anger.

Just as you stuttered out words, a bird had flown to her finger before her very angry fox spirit friend tried to bite it. She may have been smiling, but her anger was bubbling over. Hearing your weak and stuttering voice speak pulled her attention away from her angry fox spirit. She felt so honored to hear those words from you.

“I-I w-wish y-you w-were w-with m-me.”

She had to hold herself back from electrifying everything right there in the menu. She was so focused on who had done this to you, she had started to plot. She wanted to humiliate and hurt those that had disgraced you. No one should be treating a deity of your caliber with such disrespect.

Yae Miko smirked as she saw you shrink and fall asleep on the place you were sitting. The more the screen dimmed, the more her eyes glowed with mischievous intent. She hummed to herself as she plotted the demise of those that made you cry. Her voice was smooth as she hummed her words through her teeth.

“My my, your protection will soon come from the familiar of the Electro Archon my dear god, so please have patience with me~.”

NAHIDA

Nahida wanted to understand why you felt so sad. She was only a baby Archon after all, she looked to you for guidance on human emotions seeing as you had similar ones. But your crying to her had worried her, as she was ill-equipped to help. Nothing in her mind mattered, only you smiling down on her and giving her your happy aura.

She thought of so many ways to try to cheer you up. She did her string to people idle, trying her best to remind you that she is your friend and is there for you. She did what she could, trying to show you how much you were cared for. Her heart broke as she realized her efforts weren’t working.

“I wish you were here with me.”

She smiled up at you, noticing how the tears stained your face. She was so grateful that a deity like you wanted her, even if she was an inexperienced Archon. She had worshiped you greatly, and only wished to see you smile. Her mind wasn’t on those that had hurt you, but on you feeling better at the moment.

Seeing you fall asleep brought a smile to her face. You being asleep brought her hope that she could finally meet you in your dreams and bring you comfort. She looked at your now relaxed face, your screen dimming. Once you had fallen into a calm slumber, her voice spoke in hopes to bring you reassurance in your sleep.

“I promise to protect you in your dreams, so no more tears, oh wise one!”

WANDERER

You were staring at him in the character menu, as tears rolled down your face. It scared him, thoughts of worry and panic, thinking he had done something to displease you. But the more you just stared at him, the more he could tell that it was something else that bothered you. Anger replaced the panic as you started to sob.

He never understood how human emotions worked, and a deity like you having those emotions were new to him. The more your soft sobs caught his ears, the more uncomfortable he felt. He started summoning his anemo ball, doing the start of his idle, but the anemo ball kept getting bigger the longer he held it. The anemo energy then dissipated as he was surprised by your mumbling.

“I wish you…were…here with me…””

He was caught so off guard when you said that. He felt like it wasn’t fair for you to say that out of nowhere, especially when you were this sad. He thought you were joking, you wanting a puppet like him to be with you to help bring you comfort. He looked into your eyes and saw the exhaustion in them.

Seeing you fall asleep in front of him was like a gift. He knew it would help you feel better, but something in him wanted to cuddle you while you drifted off. Anger gripped him once more, how could anyone make you cry was the only thought in his head. Subconsciously, he spoke, hoping you heard him.

“Those lousy vermin don’t deserve you. They will know their place once I’m with you.”

FURINA

Furina never understood how to handle someone crying, especially since she was one to bottle up her emotions and hide them away from others. But seeing you like this made her softly smile, it meant you trusted her to be emotional and raw. The next emotion that came barreling in was anger. Anger at those that had made you so sad.

Her mind raced as she tried to think of a way to cheer you up from the other side. She started holding her water seahorse as she was doing her idle, trying to cheer you up. Her face was left with a shocked expression as she held her water seahorse closer, not ready for you to mumble out to her.

“I wish you were here…with me.”

Those words made her eyes flutter to yours. You wanted her, no one else, her to be with you as you cried. Her ego and stature wad boosted as she straightened her posture. She wanted to reach a hand out to your cheek to stroke your tears away.

Her sense of justice was strong, and she’d bring anyone to justice in your name. Especially if they had made you cry like this. The screen dimmed as she was so focused on your crying state. She was so caught up in her theatric mind, she didn’t notice either you falling asleep and her loud proclamation that you swore you heard.

“I will make laws just to make it so if anything makes you cry, they will have to stand justice in front of the Hydro Archon herself!”

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette wasn’t ready for you to stare at him in the character menu with teary eyes. He wasn’t new to tears and sadness, but your sadness was something fresh to him. He wanted to do something about it, wanting to bring those to justice if they had hurt you. Little droplets of rain started to fall around him.

He did his rain idle as his sadness increased, seeing you stuttering through your cries. He was saddened that the one being he looked up to felt so much sadness. There was a guilt as he felt happy that someone as important as you could have vulnerable moments. The surrounding rain in his idle poured harder as you stuttered out something softly in your tears.

“I w-wish you w-were h-here with m-me.”

He couldn’t stop his rain animation after hearing you speak. Your vulnerable voice and stutters made his eyes widen, he couldn’t bring himself to think that you could be this hurt. It worried him as he only wanted to be with you. He wanted to comfort you properly and not from the confines of code and screen that held him.

The rain started to stop as he saw you falling asleep. He understood that you had a raw emotional moment and only thought that sleep was much needed. He thought of ways to bring those that made you cry to trial, not sure how they would get there in the first place, however. The screen dimmed more as he only stared at you.

“Those who made you cry will be judged by the Oratrice itself. So save your tears, my lovely god, for when we can cry together.”

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

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lxvsiick · 2 months ago

Text

SINK INTO THE MEMORY | HAN TAESAN X READER

PAIRING: sunshine protector! han taesan x sunshine! fem! reader

SUMMARY: Taesan feels the need to protect his ball of sunshine, Y/n.

GENRE: sunshine and sunshine protector, imagine, fluff

WORDCOUNT: 3.9k

A/N: A Taesan fluff imagine because I keep giving him angst imagines . . . LOL! Inspired by another BOYNEXTDOOR Taesan self composed song -- SINK INTO THE MEMORY ,, man he's so talented it makes me cry

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The sun hung low in the afternoon sky, casting golden light over the playground. The sound of children's laughter filled the air, but on the far side of the park, Y/n sat alone on the swing, kicking her legs to gain height, her tiny hands gripping the chains. At just six years old, she was already a little ball of energy, always smiling, always friendly. She hummed to herself as she swung higher, her eyes bright with the joy of a carefree afternoon.

Suddenly, a group of kids, a mix of her age and older, approached her with narrowed eyes. One of the older boys stepped forward and shoved her hard, knocking her off the swing. She landed with a soft thud in the sand, her hands stinging from the fall.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, her face scrunching up in confusion. "You didn’t have to push me! I was almost done, you could’ve waited your turn!"

The group of kids ignored her words, laughing as they claimed the swing for themselves. One of the older girls sneered at her. "Who cares? It’s ours now."

Y/n stood up, brushing the sand off her knees, and stomped her foot. "That’s not fair!"

The group started to move toward her, their tone shifting from playful to aggressive, and for the first time, she looked nervous.

That’s when he appeared.

Han Taesan, also six years old, had been watching from a distance. Though he was known as a "troublemaker" by his parents and the other adults around, he wasn’t bad—he just didn’t follow the rules like everyone wanted him to. Seeing the group ganging up on her, something stirred inside him. He walked up to them without hesitation, his little fists balled at his sides.

"Leave her alone," he said firmly, his voice steady despite his small size.

One of the boys from the group turned to him, sizing him up. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Taesan didn’t flinch. He pushed the boy hard enough to make him stumble back. "I said, leave her alone."

The group exchanged uncertain glances. They had heard about him—how he wasn’t afraid of getting into trouble. It was enough to make them think twice.

"Whatever," one of the kids muttered, turning away. "We were done here anyway."

As the group scattered, Y/n stood there, watching the whole thing in awe. She wiped at her cheeks, where a few frustrated tears had started to form. Instead of crying, though, she smiled brightly at her protector, her eyes sparkling with gratitude.

"Thank you!" she beamed, bouncing on her toes. "That was really brave of you."

He shrugged, kicking at the sand as if it wasn’t a big deal. "It’s nothing. They were being mean."

Y/n, still glowing with her usual sunshine-like energy, dug into her small backpack and pulled out a crinkly bag of snacks. "Want some?" she offered, holding the bag out to him.

Surprised, he blinked at her before slowly taking a piece. "Thanks," he mumbled.

And just like that, they sat down in the sandbox together, munching on snacks as if they had been friends forever. Y/n chatted away, her voice bubbling with excitement, while Taesan listened quietly, a small but genuine smile creeping onto his face. He hadn’t planned on making a friend that day, but now, with her by his side, it didn’t seem so bad.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow over the desks. Taesan, now 17, sat at his desk, his headphones snug over his ears as music pulsed through them. He absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the table to the beat, his gaze wandering toward the door, half-lost in the melody.

That’s when he spotted her.

Y/n was passing by his classroom, a tall stack of books in her arms. She was struggling to balance them, her steps wobbly, barely able to see over the top of the pile. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she shuffled down the hallway, clearly in over her head.

With a small sigh, he pulled off his headphones and placed them on his desk. Without a second thought, he stood up, leaving his classroom and slipping out into the hallway. He didn’t need to think twice—he couldn’t just sit there and watch her struggle like that.

Catching up to her with quick strides, he reached out and grabbed the stack of books from her arms. The sudden movement made her jump in surprise, her bright eyes widening as she turned to face him.

"Oh!" she gasped, her voice soft. "You scared me!"

Taesan gave her a small smirk, adjusting the books in his arms with ease. "Why are you carrying all of this by yourself?" he asked, his tone low but laced with concern. "Isn’t the vice class representative supposed to help with stuff like this?"

Y/n blinked at him, her face flushing slightly. She offered him one of her signature bright smiles, the kind that always made it hard for anyone to be mad at her.

"I volunteered to do it," she said softly, her voice sweet but firm. "I didn’t want to bother anyone else. Junho was busy."

He glanced at her, eyebrow raised. He knew her better than that—she had a habit of not asking for help, always shouldering the burden on her own. He didn’t buy her explanation, not one bit. But instead of pressing her on it, he simply sighed and shifted the weight of the books in his arms.

Y/n noticed the look on his face, the way his brows knitted together in quiet disbelief. Letting out a small giggle, she nudged him gently with her elbow.

"It’s fine now," she said, her smile widening. "You’re here to help me, aren’t you?"

He stared at her for a moment, then let out a soft huff of amusement. "Yeah, yeah, I guess so."

Without another word, the two of them continued walking down the hallway together, her steps now light and carefree without the heavy stack of books. Taesan walked beside her, still holding the books, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She was always like this—too kind, too independent. But he didn’t mind helping. Not when it came to her.

As they walked, the quiet warmth between them settled in, the kind of comfort that came from years of knowing each other, from the unspoken understanding they always seemed to share. Even without saying much, they were always in sync.

And despite the heavy books in his arms, Taesan couldn’t help but feel a little lighter as they made their way down the hallway together.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The late afternoon sun cast a soft glow over the college campus, the sound of chatter and footsteps filling the air. Taesan walked on the side with his four friends, his headphones snug over his ears as they laughed and talked around him. Though their conversations flowed easily, he was in his own world, the beat of the music steady in his ears.

That’s when he saw her.

Y/n was across the quad, her expression tired and frantic, her fingers flying over her phone’s screen as if typing a million thoughts at once. Even from a distance, he could see the tension in her posture, the way her shoulders hunched forward as she moved quickly, almost nervously.

With a small frown, Taesan pulled off his headphones, letting them rest around his neck. He paused mid-step, eyes fixed on her, then glanced at his friends. "You guys go ahead," he said, his voice calm but distracted.

His friends exchanged glances, then shrugged and waved him off as they continued on their way. He didn’t waste another moment, cutting across the campus to catch up with her.

"Y/n!" he called out, raising his voice just enough to get her attention.

Y/n’s head jerked up at the sound of her name, her eyes wide and slightly panicked. As soon as she saw him, she quickly turned away, looking down and wiping at her face. But it was too late—he had already seen the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

His heart clenched.

"What’s wrong?" he asked softly, stepping closer to her.

"It’s nothing," she mumbled, her voice shaky, refusing to meet his gaze.

He let out a quiet sigh, knowing her well enough to understand when she wasn’t telling the full truth. Without a word, he gently took her hand, ignoring her weak protest as he led her toward a quiet bench tucked away from the busy part of campus. The area was mostly empty, the hum of campus life just a distant noise now.

They sat down, Y/n still clutching her phone tightly, her eyes darting around as if she didn’t want to face him. He watched her for a moment, her normally bright expression clouded with stress and sadness.

"So," he said softly, turning toward her, "are you going to tell me what’s really going on?"

She bit her lip, her fingers tightening around her phone, her brows furrowed as if trying to keep everything inside. For a moment, she didn’t say anything, her throat working as she held back the tears.

"Is it the group project?" he pressed gently, his voice quiet and careful.

Her silence was all the confirmation he needed. After a beat, she gave a small nod, not looking at him, her lips trembling. His eyes softened, and he felt a pang of sympathy. He knew she had been struggling with this project for a while, dealing with uncooperative group members and mounting stress.

"I’ll talk to them," he said, his tone firm. "They can’t just leave all the work to you."

"No!" she blurted out, her voice cracking. She shook her head quickly, finally meeting his gaze with watery eyes. "Don’t do that. It’s fine. I—I’m just a little stressed. I don’t want to bother anyone about it."

His jaw tightened. "It’s a group project. You shouldn’t be doing all the work by yourself."

Her frown deepened as she stared at him, her eyes pleading. "Please," she whispered, her voice trembling with exhaustion. "Let me handle it. I can do it, really."

He looked at her, the determination mixed with vulnerability in her gaze, and felt his resolve weakening. He hated seeing her like this, but he knew better than to push her when she was already so overwhelmed. With a long, resigned sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease just a little.

"Fine," he said quietly, his voice softer now. "But promise me you’ll ask for help if it gets too much. You can’t do everything by yourself."

She gave him a big, grateful smile, the weight of her exhaustion still heavy in her eyes, but at least the panic had ebbed away a little. "I will," she whispered, though they both knew she was too stubborn to ask.

He didn’t press further, instead reaching out to give her hand a comforting squeeze. As they sat there in silence, the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little from her shoulders, knowing that—at the very least—she wasn’t completely alone.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The library was quiet, the soft hum of overhead lights barely noticeable against the silence. Taesan pushed open the door, scanning the tables until his eyes landed on a familiar figure—Y/n. She was sitting alone, her head resting on the table, arms tucked under her cheek as if she'd collapsed into sleep.

He hesitated for a moment, taking in the sight of her, clearly exhausted. Walking over, he set his bag down quietly and slid into the chair next to her. Her laptop was still open, the screen displaying a half-finished document.

Taesan glanced at her, making sure she was still asleep. He could see the strain she’d been under from the deep circles under her eyes. Without a second thought, he reached for the laptop. Scrolling through the document, he realized she had been struggling with her group project—yet again. He sighed quietly and began typing, finishing the section she had started.

Minutes passed as he worked, his fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard. When he finally finished, he saved the document, closed her laptop gently, and pushed it aside.

Turning his attention back to Y/n, he rested his head on his arm, facing her. He couldn’t help but stare at her sleeping face, the way her features softened in sleep. There was something calming about just watching her, knowing she was finally getting some rest after everything she’d been dealing with.

A few minutes later, Y/n stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Taesan quickly sat up, pretending to look busy as she groggily lifted her head.

She blinked a few times, surprised to see him there. “Oh, hey,” she mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep. “When did you get here?”

He smiled softly. “A few minutes ago,” he lied, avoiding her eyes.

She stretched and rubbed her eyes, yawning. “That’s weird. I must’ve knocked out.” She sat up straighter, looking a bit more awake now. “You won’t believe it though—my group members finally started helping me out. It’s like a miracle or something.”

There was a hint of suspicion in her voice as she turned to him, narrowing her eyes playfully. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Taesan shifted in his seat, shrugging nonchalantly. “No idea what you’re talking about,” he said, avoiding her gaze as a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

She stared at him for a moment, as if trying to read his face, but then shrugged and leaned back in her seat, letting it go. “Well, whoever it was, I owe them. Seriously. I was ready to lose it.”

He didn’t say anything, just smiled to himself, secretly pleased that his interference had helped her in some way. He glanced at her again, and for a moment, everything felt right—like this quiet connection between them was enough.

The sound of a distant clock ticking was the only reminder that time was still passing, but for now, Taesan was content to sit here, next to her, in the quietness of the library.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

FLASHBACK

Taesan didn’t listen. Y/n had been stressing over her group project for days, but when she’d mentioned her group members still weren’t pulling their weight, he couldn't just sit back and do nothing. Even though she told him not to interfere, he decided to handle it his way.

Spotting one of her group members near the student lounge, he walked straight up to him without hesitation.

“Hey, you’re in Y/n’s group for the project, right?” Taesan asked, his tone firm.

The guy—Sunho—looked up from his phone, sizing him up. “Yeah, why?”

“Well, you should really start helping her out,” Taesan said bluntly, crossing his arms. “She’s doing all the work, and it’s not fair. She shouldn’t have to carry the whole project on her own.”

Sunho scoffed, putting his phone away. “And what if I don’t? What are you gonna do about it?”

Taesan’s expression hardened, taking a step closer. “I know you’ve already got a warning for not pulling your weight on other group projects. I’m sure the professor would love to hear how you’re treating this one.”

The guy’s smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing. He muttered something under his breath before grumbling, “Fine, whatever. I’ll help out.”

Satisfied, Taesan nodded and walked away, already looking for the next person in Y/n’s group.

It didn’t take long to spot Jihye chatting with her friends near the campus cafe. She was laughing, clearly not thinking about the project at all. Taesan hesitated for a second, but then pushed forward, determined.

“Hey, Jihye,” he called out, walking up to the group.

She turned around, surprised to see him. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

“You’re in Y/n’s group for the project, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” she replied, her smile faltering as her friends looked at her curiously.

“You should stop being lazy and start actually helping her out instead of letting her do everything,” Taesan said flatly, ignoring the shocked looks from the others. “It’s a group project, not a solo one.”

The girl’s face flushed red with embarrassment as her friends stared at her. “I—I’ve been helping,” she stammered defensively, glancing at her friends for backup. “We’re just… working on it separately.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Taesan shot back. “I’ve seen how stressed she is, and it’s not because you’ve been helping.”

The tension hung in the air, and her friends shifted uncomfortably. Jihye clenched her jaw, clearly embarrassed to be called out like this in front of her friends.

“Fine,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “I’ll talk to her and help out more.”

“Good,” Taesan said, his tone still sharp. He gave her one last look before turning on his heel and walking away, satisfied that he had done what needed to be done.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The sun was shining brightly on campus as Y/n walked alongside her two friends, their laughter ringing through the air. They were heading to their favorite café when she spotted Taesan across the quad, walking with his friends. Her heart did a little flip.

“Han Dongmin!” she called out, her voice bright and cheerful. The moment he turned to look at her, his face broke into a small, genuine smile, and he waved back, his friends chatting animatedly beside him.

Her friends exchanged knowing glances, smirking at each other. “Aww, look at you! You’re practically glowing!” Wonyoung teased, elbowing her playfully.

“Right? You’re like a total lovesick puppy,” Yoon chimed in, waggling her eyebrows. “So, do you guys have something going on?”

“Shut up!” Y/n blushed, shaking her head vigorously. “We’re just best friends! That’s all!”

They laughed, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. “Best friends who smile at each other like that? Come on! There’s got to be more to it!”

She felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration as they continued to poke fun at her. “Seriously, it’s nothing! We’ve always been this way!” She insisted, trying to keep her voice steady.

The teasing continued for a few more moments before her friends finally let the topic go, shifting to a discussion about upcoming events on campus. But even as they talked, Y/n felt a weight in her chest.

She let out a sigh of relief, grateful they had moved on, but the idea of having feelings for her best friend lingered in her mind like an unwelcome guest. Memories flashed through her head: times when he had stepped in to protect her, standing up to bullies or helping her with her books when she was overwhelmed. The way he always seemed to sense when she was having a tough day, how he’d show up just when she needed him most, his presence a comforting shield.

“Are you even listening?” Yoon asked, pulling her back to the present.

“Uh, yeah! Totally!” Y/n replied, forcing a smile, but her mind kept wandering back to Taesan. What if there was something more? What if they could be more than just friends?

She shook her head slightly, trying to dispel the thoughts. “I mean, it’s just... he’s really important to me, that’s all,” She said quietly, more to herself than anyone else.

“Whatever you say, Sunshine!” Wonyoung teased, giving her a playful nudge.

As they continued their walk, Y/n couldn’t help but glance back at Taesan, who was now laughing with his friends, the sunlight catching in his hair. Her heart fluttered again, but this time, it felt different—more complicated.

Could she really navigate the transition from best friends to something deeper? The thought danced tantalizingly at the edge of her mind, leaving her both excited and anxious.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The library buzzed softly with the murmurs of students studying and typing away on their keyboards. At a table strewn with open textbooks and loose papers, Y/n sat, her gaze distant as she stared blankly at her laptop screen. The rhythmic clatter of keys and occasional shuffling of pages filled the background, but she barely noticed.

Taesan approached with a light-hearted stride, his usual grin replaced by a more contemplative expression. He slid into the seat next to her, his eyes scanning the scattered books and her vacant stare. Curiosity piqued, he leaned in close and waved his hand in front of her face, his fingers brushing lightly against her cheek.

“Hey, Earth to Y/n,” He teased, his voice gentle but laced with concern.

Startled, Y/n jolted upright, her cheeks flushing as she found herself inches from him. She quickly backed away, her heart racing as she tried to regain her composure.

“Oh, um, hi,” She stammered, avoiding his gaze. “I was just… thinking about stuff.”

“Stuff, huh?” He said, leaning back but keeping his gaze steady on her. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s nothing,” She insisted, her blush deepening. She fidgeted with her pencil, trying to focus on anything but his intense eyes.

Taesan didn’t press further, respecting her reluctance to share. They sat in a companionable silence for a few moments, the tension between them building like static electricity in the air.

Finally, Y/n took a deep breath and turned to him, her eyes full of hesitance. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” He replied, his interest clearly piqued.

“How do you know if you… like someone?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Taesan looked at her thoughtfully, his own cheeks faintly pink. “Well,” He began slowly, “I guess it’s when you want to be around them all the time, you care about their happiness more than your own, and you just feel this urge to protect them. Like, you always want to see them smile.”

A long pause followed his words, Y/n absorbing the meaning behind his confession. His heart pounded in his chest as he met her gaze.

“I guess,” He continued, taking a deep breath, “that’s how I know I like you. I want to protect you and make you happy. I like you a lot, Y/n.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in shock, her entire face turning beet red. For a moment, she seemed to malfunction, her mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right words.

Seeing her reaction, Taesan couldn’t help but chuckle softly. He reached over, gently taking her hand in his. “You don’t have to answer now. I just wanted you to know how I feel so you don’t misunderstand. No pressure.”

Instead of letting go, Y/n grasped his hand tightly, her fingers trembling slightly. Her gaze dropped to the table, her thoughts racing.

“You know,” She began, her voice wavering but sincere, “earlier today, Yoon and Wonyoung were teasing me about us. It got me thinking. I don’t know what I feel yet, but I do know that I don’t want anyone else to protect me but you.”

Taesan’s heart soared at her words. A soft smile spread across his face as he squeezed her hand gently.

“Then, let’s figure it out together,” He said softly, his eyes shining with affection.

Y/n nodded, a shy smile appearing on her lips. They sat together, hands intertwined, the weight of unspoken feelings finally shared between them.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

A/N: and then they all DIE! 😈 JK YAY! a happy ending for Taesan! This is my apology for all the Taesan angst imagines/stories i have wrote and will be writing in the future ... 🙇🏻‍♀️ my fingers hurt from typing so much … but thanks for reading!

MASTERLIST

#lxvsiick </3 #kpop #boynextdoor #boynextdoor x reader #han dongmin #han taesan #han taesan x reader #han taesan fluff #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor ff #boynextdoor fluff #taesan fluff #taesan boynextdoor #taesan x reader #taesan #taesan bnd #bnd x reader #bnd fluff #bnd imagines

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yourcutelittlegayfriend · 19 days ago

Text

No More Chances

✧ M A S T E R L I S T ✧

Yandere Platonic Batfamily x Neglected Regressing GN Reader

In which a sad little child of a Wayne is somehow curse by the fates to live again and again, facing death in the end just to relive her fears, trauma and neglect from her own family.

Will they find away to end this looping nightmare or to live another reset again just to find a good gooddamn ending?.

'I want to live without any regrets, I just want to live! I want to live for myself! I want to survive and stop this curse! so please just leave me alone!'.

Warning this Fic will contain:

Suicide and Suicidal thoughts, Death [Mainly Y/N's], Violence, Cursing, Guns and other weapons, Family Neglect, Talk about traumas or phobias, out of characters from the DC characters, mixed versions of the Batfamily [Will be mentioned if there are changes or implications of specific depictions of comics, games or other media for DC characters] and lastly Typos [ I can edit if there are typos but don't expect perfect or poetic English from me cuz I'm not that great in English ].

EXTRA EXTRA NOTE :

For the love of anything out there if you do not like to consume these type of fics in tumblr, DO NOT message or comment to me about how you don't like to read yandere or even x reader fanfictions in your feed, it's not my fault, I don't control your recommendation or what pops up in your screen, you have fingers SCROLL AWAY.

--- 0 0 0 0 ---

PROLOGUE

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

.......

[ O N G O I N G ]

--- ? ? ? ---

Headcannons

Fate's Chapter Assessment

[ 0 ] ,

-✧✦✧-INTERTWINED FATES-✧✦✧-

Melody composed by fate [song fic]

Death by Family

Father

Sons

Daughters

Grandfather

✧✦✧ CRACKED VISIONS ✧✦✧

Imma finna rock yo' shit

Black Betty Bam Balam

〖 = ✧ = 〗

A taglist will be made if you want to be updated quickly, I only tag when I reblog a chapter so please comment your @ below thank you so much.

[ If you're having trouble finding the chapters for this fic all of them will be tag with #No More Chances or find #Masterlist ]

#No More Chances #x reader #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #Yandere platonic Alfred Pennyworth #yandere #yandere batfam x reader #yandere platonic #platonic yandere x reader #x gender neutral reader #yandere dc #Masterlist

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woewriting · 1 year ago

Text

sinbound (g!p)

pairing: tara carpenter | reader word count: 5358 warnings: mdni, +18 only! no ghostface au, reader has a dick, cheating, adultery, voyeurism, semi public sex, shower sex, breeding, exhibitionism, and if you squint really hard there's a bit of size kink... tara's a sinner and so are you. a/n: i cant believe i finally finished this one, a huge thanks to @alkivm and @wesstars for helping me out, this one is for you two.

masterlist

You never really thought of Tara as more than just a good friend, you really didn’t, but the moment you witnessed her being ruined by her boyfriend’s dick, mascara running down her cheeks, lipstick smudged all around her plump lips, and the way she smiled at you with half open lids, your mind became clouded with Tara.

Her moans, so soft and whiny.

Her hands grabbing her boyfriend’s arms, short nails digging into the muscle and tracing red marks on the tanned skin.

Her smile, so different from the ones she always greets you with when you meet for breakfast before classes. This one was small, almost like a smirk that turned into perfectly ‘o’ shaped when he bit her neck, covering her petite body with his big one.

You couldn't move, petrified with the scene rolling in front of your eyes. You watched as her nails scratched the skin of his back, pulling him impossibly closer, holding him in place so he wouldn’t see you standing there, blatantly watching them fuck. The sounds she was making wouldn’t leave your mind, the image of Tara being fucked raw while staring at you engraved in every single muscle memory of your brain.

And it did.

You stood there for what it felt like hours, watching with focused eyes the heart-giving performance Tara was putting on for you until she came, teeth sinking in the others’ shoulder to suffocate the scream that would tear her throat in pieces.

That’s when you left, your face burning red and an uncomfortable ache between your legs that you wished would disappear, twitching inside your boxers and begging for release.

With a quick wave of your hand towards your friend’s group, you left the frat house, jumping over drunken bodies sprawled in the front yard and walking back to your dorm only a few blocks away. You could still hear the loud electronic music and you smelled like alcohol mixed with different perfumes from every person that hugged you during the night.

Kicking your shoes before stepping inside — following your roommate’s number one rule, you leaned against the closed door, the image of Tara burned into your brain like a tattoo, the soft sounds she was making playing in your head like a broken record that was slowly driving you crazy, a tight knot in your stomach that made your heart beat faster.

Your hand automatically covering the volume in your pants, squeezing your length as you tried to easy down. Deep down, you wanted to open up your pants and pull your cock out, watching the way it twitched with the vivid image of Tara on her knees, sucking you off; or with her legs wrapped around your waist as you fucked her against the door frame, fast and rude, like Chad was doing it. But you couldn’t, you felt dirty already for not turning around and drinking every single solo cup, with a colorful, sparkly drink and dubious alcohol, offered to you by Mindy or Amber to erase what you had witnessed, but no, you froze in place.

With one last hard squeeze, you took a deep breath, deciding to take a cold shower to force yourself to calm down, even if the knot in your stomach was painful, like a little red devil on your shoulder, whispering lustful things into your ear like it’s the most beautiful melody that was hard to ignore. For a split of seconds, you almost listened to him, unbuttoning your pants and pulling the zipper down, removing enough pressure of you, but your phone ranged in your back pocket.

Shaking your head, you took the hardest path, the one that led you to the bathroom. Picking up your phone, Sam’s name blinking on the screen with a picture of you and her together, you gulped, declining the call and deciding to text her instead with the excuse of a migraine that was making you dizzy.

As the water hit your head and your shoulder, your muscles tensed up and you stop breathing, every single body hair standing on end with goosebumps, your member still hard against your belly. You sighed, closing your eyes to focus on the cold water that ran over your body so you could sleep and forget whatever the hell this day was.

It didn’t work, your eye bags the next morning was reason enough for your roommate to ask what happened that kept you up all night.

──

To be honest, you didn’t want to be here, sitting in your usual table waiting for them to show up, ignoring a completely enthusiastic Amber. You wanted to be under your blankets, with doors locked, phone on airplane mode and away and safe from the girl that took over your thoughts over the weekend. It’s been two days since the little “incident” at the party, you ignored every single message in the group chat claiming you “needed to study for finals”, which wasn’t a full lie but you really did not need to spend your entire weekend locked in your dorm.

“Yo, dumbass,” you blinked when a blurry hand stepped in your vision, followed by Amber’s furred eyebrows. “you’ve been weird since Friday, what’s wrong with you?”

Before you could answer, the little bell above the door rang, your eyes automatically linking with the brown ones you saw roll to the back of her head when she came all over her boyfriend. Tara was under Chad’s arm, smiling at something the taller boy said as they walked into the small cafe, coming in your direction.

You wanted to flee, leaving all your belongings back and rush to classes, but the table in front of you and the two girls, Amber and Sam, sitting on each side of you, made that wish a little bit impossible to come true, and if you tried, it would draw too much attention to yourself and that was the least thing you wanted at the moment.

You’d have to endure the torture you had set inside your own brain.

Tara was a really good actress, you thought to yourself, as the minutes went by, she, somehow, manage to keep the same image as always, the perfect girlfriend/sister/friend that is constantly smiling and pays attention to everyone and everything that surrounded her.

While you, on the other side, kept your eyes focused on the drawing that swam in your coffee mug until it slowly melted away, not paying much attention to the conversation. You made a disgusted face when you realized it turned cold under your fingertips.

“Want me to get you a new one?”

“Uh?”

Tara smiled, oh so sweet as always, placing her hand on top of yours, her thumb caressing the skin, ready to take your mug and order a new one for you. “I asked if you want me to order you a new coffee? I know you don’t like cold coffee in the morning.”

“No, uh…” You avoided her soft eyes, removing your hand and starting to pack your things to leave. “Actually, I have to go to, it’s uh… I have to take some notes before class. Can you move a little, Amber? Thank you.”

Without looking at them and feeling your heartbeat on your throat, stumbling a few times on a confused Freeman as you passed in front of her, you left your group of friends behind, ignoring the way Sam was saying your name as you walked out of the small cafe.

Once your feet hit the soft grass in front of the university, you exhaled the air that was stuck inside your lungs all the way here. Leaning forward, you took a deep breath, feeling the burning spread through your veins like poison.

“Are you okay?” A familiar voice came behind you. Sam’s hand on the lower of your back.

“Yeah, I am,” You turned to her. “I just have too much on my head right now.”

The older Carpenter analyzed you, her dark eyes roaming around your features like she always did, looking for any sign of lie.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, clenching your hands around the strap of the bag over your shoulder. “I’ll feel better after the finals, don’t worry, Sammy.”

The nickname earned you a soft smile, followed by a protective arm wrapped around your shoulders, leading you to the main building where your first class took place. Sam made sure to walk with you until you were both standing in front of the opened door, the classroom still empty when you two arrived.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded; eyes focused on her hands holding yours. You wanted to tell everything you saw at the party, but how would you say you saw her little sister, and your best friend, getting fucked and were starting to question how you felt about your friendship with Tara? That you feel an ache in between your legs every time you share the same space with her? It would be like throwing a bucket of cold water on her, and then the bucket itself… instead, you just smiled.

After Sam gave you a forehead kiss, she left you, walking to the other side of the campus for classes; you watched her from afar through the big window next to where you usual sat since first day, a high chair, not too far from the teacher but away enough from the troublemakers that enjoyed chatting during lessons, disturbing those who were interested in actually learning.

Through the same big window, your eyes recognized a pair that was getting near the building’s entrance. You gulped, secretly watching them kiss, your cheeks gaining a pinkish tone and a burning feeling in the pit of your stomach. The way Chad had his hands possessively on her thin waist, pulling her impossibly closer and keeping her in place, while Tara had her arms wrapped around his head, tiptoeing to reach his lips.

It was a daily thing that always got your attention even though you never really cared about the affection between them, but this time, you felt dirty, your pupils dilating to absorb every single trace of light, almost as if you were taking a picture of it, the way the wind was subtly blowing her skirt up. You pressed your legs together, the small pain seeming enough to calm down your throbbing cock. Maybe it was a terrible idea to wear sweatpants as it was easy to see the volume you were desperately trying to hide since you saw Tara entering the coffee shop in such short skirt.

When they broke the kiss, the small girl waved her boyfriend goodbye, turning on her heels to enter the same building you were.

At least we don’t have classes together today… — you thought to yourself once again, sighing in relief as you slid down on your chair and plugged your earphones in, waiting for the teacher to come in.

The classes were full of revisions for the finals, your knuckles hurting from taking notes as fast as the teacher was talking, writing down what you considered important — right now, everything. It had a good side though; Tara had left your thoughts for you to focus on what really mattered at the moment.

After an entire morning of non-stop writing, you were ready to pack everything and clear your mind at the gym near the campus, working off all the bothered you felt the past 3 days.

The space was empty, considering that it was an hour that usually was packed with students, the finals probably taking all the time. Like them, you should also be studying, but you figured it was time to let something else burn your muscles other than notes badly written on your notebook. Walking past a few faces you were familiar with, you greeted them with a smile and a small head motion, the wireless earphone blasting some random Taylor Swift song inside your head.

Just like the training area, the lock room was empty, a girl passed by you when you entered and left you alone in silence, the energetic music that played on the gym’s speakers taking over once you removed your earphones, holding them for a few seconds until you heard a robotic voice saying “power off”. Placing them inside the pocket of your backpack, you tossed the object on the top shelf of your paid lock, removing the warm jacket that hugged your body and folded it, placing it inside. Kicking your shoes off, you managed to remove your socks without falling before storing it too, the cement cold under your bare feet.

“Are you going to ignore me until when? Do I gotta put on another show for you so you can pay attention to me?” A small Tara appeared behind you, resting her chin on your right shoulder, feeling your chest rise and fall with the deep breath you took. You closed the metal door slowly.

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend to give you attention?”

She rolled her eyes, sneaky hands climbing on your back and coming back down to rest on your waist, sending shivers down your spine. The tip of her fingers playing with the hem of your pants. “Because I want your pretty eyes on me, not his.”

Feeling a burn escalating from your chest all the way up to your neck, you turned on your heels, now facing a doe-eyed Tara.

How could you still see her so adorably after what you witnessed?

“What do you want, Tara?” You asked with a sighed, crossing your arms in an attempt to keep her away from you — even if it was millimeters.

“I want you.”

“Be for real.”

“I am.”

You analyzed her expressions. Dark brown eyes not leaving yours for even a second, those adorable freckles spread across her small nose bridge and cheeks, lower lip trapped between her teeth. She wasn’t lying, Tara couldn’t keep eye contact when she was lying.

Taking a step back and leaning against the locker behind you, you watched as she took a step closer and uncrossed your arms; you didn’t even try to stop her.

Ghostly fingers tracing your forearm, up to your biceps, resting on your neck, her thumb softly caressing your jawline.

“Tara… don’t.” You tried to sound firm, but as she was closing the gap between you two, your voice lowered a few octaves, betraying you.

“Why not?” It was all she whispered before you felt her lips softly pressing against your own, giving you a chance to push her away and go back to training, if that was what you wished.

You didn’t. Again, your body betrayed you, and so did your thoughts, the images from Friday night clouding up your mind.

The arms that were once crossed to keep her away were now enlacing her waist, pulling her against your own body, desperately trying to feel her warmth.

It was a soft press of lips, but it lasted long enough for you both to sigh, holding onto each other as if something would pull you apart.

“Did I ever tell you you’re so fucking hot in those sweatpants? God! I love when you wear those, I can see you perfectly.” She exhaled against your lips, shaking breath, hands grabbing on your biceps, nails digging the skin before covering your semi-hard member, grabbing the length over the thick cotton fabric.

You had no time to reply, her tongue licking yours so deliciously that was hard to even think of speaking something and break that moment, so you did like Tara, grabbing every muscle you could get your hands on, dartling from her lower back, down to her ass, under her skirt, pulling her up, thighs tightly wrapped around your waist as you reversed positions, aggressively pressing her against the metal locker, a painful moan escaping her lips that sounded like music to your ears.

Unable to keep your mouth away from hers, you pressed your lips again. Aggressively, needy, desperate, like you’ve been longing this for too long, and now, she was giving you the most delicious kiss you’ve ever had. Tara was delicious all over, from her honey voice, to her minty breath, intoxicating your senses with how sweet her perfume was, matching perfectly with the fake persona she wears in front of everyone. It was definitely going to stick to your shirt.

Her breath hitching, soft moans scaping from her lips whenever you moved your head to the other side, kiss fitting deliciously.

A loud laugh coming from the hallway that connected the gym’s open space and the lock room, you were quick to walk towards the shower area, entering the last stall and closing the door behind you with a violent swing, easily opening the water register to mask the sounds Tara was making.

When the icy water hit your body, a moment of guilty took over your senses and you pulled back, breaking the kiss.

“Why did you stop?” Carpenter whined, opening her eyes.

“We can’t do this, Tar.”

“But you know you want this. You know that. Tell me that you don’t. Tell me you didn’t enjoy watching the way Chad was fucking me, or the way he kisses me before going to class.” Your eyes widened, awkwardly shifting your weight from one foot to another. “What? You think I don’t know you watch me through the window? Why do you think I always kiss him in that same spot?”

“I…”

“You’re so cute… all flustered and embarrassed.”

The tip of her index finger traced your jawline all the way down your neck, slightly peeking through the loosen white shirt that was slowly becoming transparent as the water hit your back, revealing the strap of your bra. She smiled; bottom lip trapped in between her teeth as she pressed herself down on the volume under her, a moan trapped in your throat at the sudden contact.

“For someone that doesn’t want this, your dick shows the opposite.” Tara moved her hips on you, the pressure of your clothed member on her clit getting her to drip on the fabric of your pants. “You’re such a liar.”

“You’re full of bullshit, did you know that?” You moved your hips up, earning a surprised moan.

The girls in the room were loud, talking and laughing about something you didn’t care about, all you wanted to hear was your best friend’s moans, loving the way she whispers your name as her hips continued to roll against you, eyes closed and a small smirk tugging on the corner of her lips.

“And you’re dying to fuck me.”

It was your turn to let out a huff, fingers squeezing the soft flesh of her bare thighs, the short skirt brushing against your hands.

“How long have you been planning this, huh?”

In a teasy tone, you close the gap between her neck and your lips, languid kisses being placed all over, goosebumps forming on the soft skin. You smiled, loving the way she squeezed her legs around your waist.

“Since I saw you kissing that blondie at the party.” She easily confessed; eyes closing to focus on the ghostly contact of your lips on her neck. “The way your hands were on her waist, your leg in between hers, the way she was bouncing on your thigh,” Tara chocked on her breath when you bit her pulse point, heartbeat fast on the tip of your tongue. “your lips on her neck, leaving bruises everywhere… It was so fucking hot I couldn’t take it anymore, so I dragged Chad upstairs and made him fuck me while I was thinking of you.” It was her turn to smile when she felt you twitch under her. “I bet you can go deeper than he can, that you can fuck me so good, ruin me… can you do that for me?”

You smiled, swiftly pulling down the hem of your sweatpants enough for your dick to pop out, hitting your belly, a relieved sigh leaving your parted lips. You brought Tara against you again, a low moan escaping her lips as her clit pressed on your length, the damp fabric of her underwear creating a pleasant friction.

“You’re sure you want this?” You asked, once again the guilt threatening to fill your thoughts, but smaller, a lot smaller than the first time, and a lot easier to make it go away; one look from Tara’s dark-brown eyes and it was gone.

Pulling her drenched panties to the side, your fingers found her warmth, loving the way she clutched around them, rubbing it up and down her slit before positioning the tip of your cock in her entrance, forcing your way in, her hips buckling it up as you stretched her out.

“Fuck, you’re so thick,” Tara breathed out, nails digging in the back of your neck as you slowly pushed yourself inside her, the velvety walls clutching around you.

Trying to ease the moment, you brought your mouth down her neck, licking all the way up to her jawline, softly biting the spot once you were all inside. Her head tilted back against the sweaty tile as water fell around the both of you, mostly hitting your back as your body protect hers from the cold temperature.

“Look at me,” you demanded, trying to keep yourself calm, allowing her to adjust first. “Tara, look at me. I want your eyes on me.”

Tara was tight around you, her warmth embracing you as deliciously as her legs wrapped your waist or as her fingers intertwined in your hair.

It took her a minute to open her eyes, pupils completely dilated as she leaned in, licking your lips with a mischievous smile before taking your bottom lip in a hurtful bite, easing the pain with the tip of her tongue.

“What are you waiting for? Just fuck me already.” She breathed out, purposefully clenching around you.

You huffed, amused by this version of Tara you never knew was hidden behind sweet smiles and kind personality; she was a slut. And you were loving every second of this, the way the back of her converses were pressed on your thighs, keeping you impossibly closer to her. Or the way she looked at you with dark, half-opened eyes, completely focused on your features.

You pulled back slowly, her mouth hanging open and eyes threatening to close, but you stopped when loud and messy conversation filled the lock room.

Tara pulled you closer by instinct, causing you to enter her in a fast move, your hand fast to cover her mouth, a low shhh falling from your lips when a struggled moan scaped hers, her throat vibrating, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

The view you had was sinful, your hand covering Tara’s mouth, some drops of water sprawling on her face, the mascara starting to run down her cheeks as the heat got too much, not even the coldest temperature couldn’t cool down the two of you, and neither the girls that were chitchatting outside the closed stall.

You started to move, slowly and careful, testing her, your other hand firmly keeping her against the wall.

"Fuck, you're clenching so hard around me." You breathed out with hoarse voice.

Tara covered your hand with hers, caressing gently before pulling it away, lips wrapping around your thumb in, your mind wondering how it would feel to have her mouth wrapped around your cock, sucking you off with the same eager she was sucking on your thumb.

“I can feel you throbbing inside me,” she whispered, slowly bouncing her body up, using your broad shoulders as support. “it’s so good. Now, fuck me.”

You huffed, the doe, adorable, innocent eyes staring at you was a perfect contrast to the situation you found yourself at, buried deep inside her, controlling every single nerve inside your body to wait instead of fucking her raw, but the request made you smile, hand wrapping around her throat in a slight squeeze as you moved your hip down, leaving only the tip inside before forcing your way in. Tara’s lips fell apart in a silent moan, short nails digging the flesh on your wrist, an overwhelming sensation spreading all over your body to be fully inside her again.

If Tara knew you’d feel this good inside her, she would’ve done it a lot sooner.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, mouth open trying to catch a breath as she felt every single centimeter of your dick move inside her, stretching her out in a delicious way, goosebumps all over her body every time she felt the blood running through your veins, pulsating inside her.

You stopped, taking a small step to the side, getting away from the door as you heard steps coming closer. The door loudly closing next to where you were.

“Be a good girl and keep your eyes on me, would you?”

“I’m starting to think you love having my eyes on you.” She teased back, brown eyes staring at you the same second.

“I do, I want to see them when you fall apart with me inside you.” She gulped, the simple words affecting her more than she would admit. You leaned closer, kissing her jawline, waiting for the person on the stall next to you to turn the water on. “Is this what you had in mind? When you picture me with that other girl?”

Tara wasn’t the jealous type, but now that she actually had you inside, she did feel a twinge of it inside her chest.

“No,” black painted nails grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her. “this is what I pictured when I was with Chad, with him deep inside me… unlike you, he’d be ruining me right now.”

Your tongued slid on your bottom lip, the teasing failing to cause something in you.

“Want me to fuck you, Tara? Want everyone around us hearing how good I am making you feel, instead of your perfect boyfriend?”

“At least he wouldn’t be afraid to break me.”

You tilted your head slightly to the side, hearing more water running behind your back. Taking a strong grip on her waist, you slid inside in one swift move, covering her lips with yours. Once you were all inside her, it was hard to pull out, it was warm and soft, fitting just right.

Tara moaned against your lips, feeling every inch being pulled out only to slowly go in the next second, a steady pace that felt complete with the delicious taste of your tongue on hers. After a few more testing thrusts, you began to speed up your pace, filling her to the brim and making her toes curl, head falling back against the wall, not being able to hold back as your body was begging for release.

Removing her hands from your neck, her finger gripped the top of the wall behind her, pulling her weight up as much as she could, allowing you to wrap your arms under her knees, pushing her body against the tile.

This new position made you go deeper, hitting every sensitive spot inside her, teeth chewing on her lip bottom violently enough to almost draw blood, afraid that if she stopped doing that, everyone would hear how desperate she was for you and the running water wasn’t loud enough to cover it.

You wouldn’t last longer, not with how tight Tara was clenching around you and the way she had her eyes locked to your, pupils fully blown, darkening the doe eyes. You leaned closer, sucking the plump lip once you saw a drop of blood nearly falling to the floor, soothing the bruised skin with your tongue.

In a wrong move, your cock slipped out, standing proudly between the two bodies. Tara whined; eyes half-open at the feeling of being empty. She shook her head in a silent request. You smiled, caressing her cheeks. One hand of hers came down to meet you, scratching the nape of your neck, a clear sign that was close.

“What is it, love? Need something?”

Teasingly, you held your shaft, rubbing it along her sticky slit, teasing her aching hole a few times. The small girl was desperate, the knot in the pit of her stomach turning into tears, running down her face along with fainted black mascara.

“Please, please, please, I need you inside now, I’m so close…” She cried out, trying to pull you closer.

“Look at you, so pathetic, all you can do is beg. Aren’t you ashamed to be such a slut, Tara?” Your knuckle brushed the hair off of her face, allowing you to admire the red color that filled cheeks, stained by the ruined mascara.

She nodded to your question, unable to form a single sentence as you changed positions before sliding inside her once again, keeping a slow pace, allowing her to adjust, the velvety walls welcoming you tightly. Your grip on her waist was bruising the soft skin, no longer giving a single thought about the marks you shouldn’t left on her body, you wanted her to look at them when Chad fucks her and think of you, on how good it felt to have you buried deep inside her.

With your fingers still glued to her hip bones, you fastened your pace, the wet sounds coming from your bodies and her whiny moans barely being muffled by the running water, deep down you wanted everyone to hear the way she was saying your name like a sacred mantra. It was so fucking sexy the way her nose scrunched when you hit the sweet spot inside her or the way the tip of her tongue licked on her lips, throat dry from all the deep breaths she took.

Your name falling from her lips, getting you to look at her, “I want… fuck,” she closed her eyes, holding back as long as she could, prolonging this moment. “I want you to come deep inside me. Can you do that for me?”

You couldn’t see it, but with her request, you were sure your pupils were blown out, because the smile she let out watching your expression change, was reason enough for you to fuck the life out of her. Your nails sank in the flesh of her ass, forcefully moving her body up and down your throbbing cock, the knot in the pit of your stomach getting as tighter as Tara’s walls around you.

She was close, you both were, her hands in the back of your head bringing your mouth to her neck, peppering soft kisses on the wet skin, the faint smell of her perfume filling your lungs, her moans whispered straight to your ears like the most addictive song you heard before.

When she came, her teeth sunk on your shoulder with a hard bite, nails digging the nape of your neck. You followed her, coming deep inside like she asked you to. Your legs trembled, hands gripping the top of the wall to maintain balance while the other held her waist, the small body violently twitching against yours.

Opening your eyes, little stars shone in front of you. You took deep breaths, Tara holding onto you like her life depended on it — at this point, it did. She had 0 strength to stand on her own.

When she finally let go of your shoulder, a satisfied hummed left her lips followed by a smirk-like smile, hands now delicately caressing the sides of your neck and jawline, fingers removing a few strains of wet hair from your face.

“It feels so good,” she whispered, movies her hips in a perfect circle. You chocked on your breath. “you’re all inside me and it’s so good.”

“Is this how you fantasized?”

“It’s far better.” She laughed, weakly. “You’re much better than...”

You stopped her from finishing the sentence, kissing her with ease and care, “Can you take another one for me?” Tara gave you a sly smile, the heels of her converses pulling you closer. “That’s my good girl.”

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alyrasturnz · 4 months ago

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DID I WAKE YOU?

❐ summary » in the quiet hours of the night, matt's voice breaks through the stillness, waking y/n from slumber. as y/n stirs, they realize that matt is deeply engrossed in an intense fortnite session with his brothers. seeking comfort, y/n gently coaxes matt away from the screen and into a warm embrace.

❐ pairings » bf!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » pet names

❐ a/n && w/c » i wrote this in six minutes • 930

“chris! are you fucking incompetent?” matt yells, his fingers harshly gliding against his controller, the plastic creaking under the pressure. muffled yells come from his headphones, a cacophony of frustration and commands blending into the background noise of the room.

you shift in his bed, the sheets rustling under your body as the dim light from matt’s monitor filters through your eyelids. you pull the blanket over your head, seeking refuge from the intrusive glow, trying to coax yourself back into the embrace of sleep.

“chris! chris!” matt yelled, “behind you! kid?!” he exclaimed, his fingers deftly running over the buttons on his controller in a frantic dance before he dropped it onto his table with a resounding clatter, letting out a loud, exasperated groan.

you listened to the cacophony of loud screams emanating from his headphones as matt yelled back, his voice rising to meet the tumultuous noise, creating a chaotic symphony of frustration and urgency.

you shifted restlessly, turning around and squeezing your eyes shut, the rustling of the sheets a faint whisper against the cacophony of noise. you covered your ears in a desperate attempt to block out the intrusive sounds, yearning for the elusive solace of sleep amidst the relentless chaos that surrounded you.

you sat up in frustration, your movements sharp and deliberate, casting a weary gaze at matt, who continued to yell at chris through the call. his voice reverberated through the room, a relentless barrage of sound that only amplified your growing exasperation.

you stood up, your movements deliberate and slow, as if each step was weighed down by the gravity of the situation. you walked over to him, rubbing your eyes in a futile attempt to dispel the fatigue. with a gentle yet decisive motion, your fingers grazed against his mic, muting him instantly and catching his attention.

he looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of surprise and irritation. slowly, he put his headphones down, yet chris' loud voice continued to emanate from the confines of the headphones, a persistent echo of the ongoing argument.

"hi, baby," he murmured softly, his voice a tender whisper. he opened his arms, inviting you to sit on his lap. as you straddled him, you buried your face into the crook of his neck, seeking solace in his embrace.

"did i wake you?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern. as you nodded, inhaling his familiar scent, he began to run his hand up and down your back in a soothing rhythm, each stroke a silent apology.

"m'sorry," he mumbled softly, his voice barely above a whisper. he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, the tender gesture speaking volumes of his remorse.

"go to bed with me," you whispered into his skin, your breath warm against him. his lips curled into a soft smile, a silent acknowledgment of your request.

"you're so cute when you're sleepy," he chuckled, his laughter a gentle melody. his hand continued its soothing journey up and down your back. you were always at your most clingy when sleepiness enveloped you.

you peeled your face from his neck, turning to face him with a pout. your eyes, wide and imploring like those of a puppy, sought his gaze.

he glanced at you, then at his monitor, and then back at you, his eyes flickering with a momentary hesitation before settling on your face once more.

"don't look at me like that. you know i can't say no to that face," he murmured, his voice tinged with playful resignation. before he could say more, you planted a soft kiss on his lips, then buried your face back into the comforting nook of his neck.

"please," you murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as he chuckles, the sound resonating warmly around you.

"okay, okay," he said, a soft blush creeping onto his cheeks. as you smiled, you slowly began to rise, the moment filled with a tender, unspoken understanding.

matt then ended the call with his brothers, his fingers lingering momentarily on the keyboard as he closed his setup with deliberate care. he took a deep breath, allowing the conversation's echoes to fade, before slowly rising from his seat, the weight of the day's events evident in his measured movements.

you walked towards his bed, your steps slow and deliberate, climbing onto it with a graceful ease. he followed closely behind, his movements mirroring your own, each step imbued with a sense of quiet anticipation.

you sat down, your gaze lifting to meet his as you waited, the room filled with a charged silence. his presence loomed above you, and in that moment, a silent understanding passed between you, deepening the connection you shared.

he crawled next to you, his movements deliberate and unhurried, before laying down beside you. as you reclined, you rested your head gently on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you, a silent testament to the bond you shared.

he wrapped his arms around you, his embrace warm and protective, his fingers weaving through your hair with a tender familiarity. then, with a gentle grace, he planted a soft kiss on the top of your head, a silent gesture of affection that spoke volumes.

"goodnight," you whisper softly, your voice barely more than a breath, as the quiet of the night envelops you both in its serene embrace.

"goodnight, sweet girl," he murmured softly, a gentle smile playing on his lips, as the tranquility of the moment wrapped around you both, guiding you into the realm of dreams.

taglist — @imwetforyourmom @meatballzerz69 @pinkishpearls @bandanamatt @thedangerousalleyway @muchloveforhacker @frozenpeanutbutterr @jetaimevous @everleiqh @conspiracy-ash @ifwdominicfike @blahbel668 @slutforsturnioloss @realuvrrr @sturnobsessedwh0re @cerismo

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lulujeno · 2 months ago

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crush culture — lee jeno ᡣ𐭩

summary : liking jeno was a mistake. kissing him didn't make it any better.

warnings : mentions of alcohol/drinking, kissing, cusswords, angst!! (this does not portray how the idols are irl, all the things here are written to match the song crush culture by conan gray!!)

wc : 6.3k

a/n : reader uses she/her pronouns !! jerk!jeno and bestfriend!mark :D thank u for 100+ followers ~~ cant believe i managed to pull out more than 5k words out of my ass >< my finals are currently happening so that's why i've been ia for soooo long :( i promise when i'm done i'll be clearing out both my drafts and requests ^^

Seeing your best friend, Belle, flirt with Jeno on your couch hit harder than you ever expected. The way they leaned into each other, laughter spilling from their lips like a sweet melody, made your stomach churn in a way that felt foreign and unwelcome. You had no right to feel this way, not when you knew about her crush on him. You had even agreed to be her wingman tonight, setting up this moment so she could finally have her chance. But somehow, along the way, you fell for him too, your heart weaving itself into a tapestry of unspoken feelings and bitter regret.

You should feel happy for her, after all her efforts to catch his attention, but the tight knot in your chest made it impossible to be anything but miserable. “It’s fine. Be happy. It’s your birthday, after all,” you whispered under your breath, trying to convince yourself. The words felt heavy, lacking the enthusiasm they were meant to carry. You exhaled a shaky breath before heading to the kitchen, desperate to escape the sight of them together.

The kitchen was warm, filled with the faint scent of alcohol and fruity punch hanging in the air like an unwelcoming fog. Mark stood by the counter, effortlessly mixing drinks with an ease that told you he’d done this a hundred times before. He glanced up as you entered, and a flicker of concern passed over his face when he caught sight of your downcast expression. He flicked his eyes toward the living room, and you knew he had noticed. Most of your friends knew about your crush on Jeno. It wasn’t something you talked about much, but the way your eyes lingered on him said enough.

“You okay?” Mark asked, his voice low, but the concern was clear, filling the space between you like a fragile glass.

You could only shrug, unsure of how to explain the whirlpool of emotions churning within your chest. It felt too complicated to articulate.

Without a word, he whipped up a drink, something colourful and sweet, and handed it to you. The condensation from the glass cooled your palm, but it did little to soothe the fire raging inside. The drink looked vibrant, but you could already tell it was just a disguise for the hollowness you felt.

“She’s kind of a bitch for doing that in front of you,” Mark muttered, glancing back at the couch, his fingers absentmindedly wiping down the counter. His words hung in the air like a lifebuoy tossed your way, and for a moment, it felt like they were offering you a chance to vent, to express all the things you were holding back. But you shook your head, pushing the thoughts down.

“Not really,” you sighed, taking a sip of the drink. The sweetness coated your tongue, but it tasted like nothing, a mere distraction. “I’m the bitch here. Liking the same guy as my best friend, after she tells me she likes him, that kind of thing breaks girl code.”

Mark furrowed his eyebrows, his confusion evident. “Girl code? Really?” He scoffed softly, shaking his head. “Come on, Belle falls for every guy who looks her way. Everyone knows that. Besides, you actually have a better shot, Jeno knows you, trusts you. You should go for it.”

You nearly choked on your drink, laughter bubbling up despite your mood. “Yeah, and get a reputation for stealing my friends’ crushes? No thanks, Mark. I’ll pass.” You handed him the empty glass, watching as he refilled it, his movements swift and practiced. The glint of the alcohol under the dim kitchen lights reflected how your emotions felt; messy and swirling, a whirlpool threatening to pull you under.

Mark sighed, exasperated. “It’s your party. Don’t let them get in your head. Go have some fun.” He handed you the new drink with a smile, but before you could take another sip, he added, “And don’t drink too much. You can’t handle it, and we both know it.”

But after two glasses, fun was the last thing you felt. The sight of Jeno and Belle still played in your mind, a vivid loop that made the alcohol churn uncomfortably in your stomach. You tried to find Belle in the crowded room, but she was nowhere to be seen. After asking around and realising Jeno wasn’t there either, the pit in your stomach grew deeper. You knew what that probably meant.

You found yourself wandering back to the kitchen, your mind foggy but determined to drown out the ache with another drink. Mark raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised to see you again. When you asked for yet another glass, he sighed deeply, a mixture of concern and frustration in his expression.

“This is your last one,” he warned, handing you the drink reluctantly. “You can’t handle much. I don’t want to have to carry you out of your own party.”

But Mark’s warning felt like a distant echo in your ears. By the time you were begging for a fourth drink, all caution had slipped away, and you couldn’t care less about the consequences. The music in the living room was thumping, laughter echoing like a cruel reminder of your current situation, and all you could feel was the weight of everything you couldn’t have — Jeno, your peace, the ability to not care.

“I already told you, no more drinks. You’re cut off,” Mark said, frustration clear in his voice. “I’ll get you some water instead.”

As he turned to open the fridge, you took your chance. The cold metal of a beer can brushed against your fingertips as you snatched it from the counter. You were so focused on your mission to drown out the pain that you didn’t notice Mark turning back toward you.

“y/n,” he snapped, his tone stern, “let go of the can. You’re going to regret this.”

You raised the can to your lips, but Mark was quicker. His hand reached out to grab it from you, and in the struggle, the can slipped from your grasp. The beer splashed everywhere — over your shirt, dripping down your arms, and pooling on the floor. The cold liquid seeped through your clothes, clinging to your skin, making you gasp at the sudden chill. Mark groaned, grabbing a napkin from the counter as you stood there, drenched, with a look of defiance still written across your face.

Undeterred, you tried to tilt the can toward your mouth, desperate to drink whatever was left inside, despite the mess. “Come on, y/n, you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” Mark sighed, exasperation laced in his tone as he managed to pry the can away for good this time.

The alcohol-soaked shirt clung to your body, the sticky sensation uncomfortable, but you were too far gone to care. The frustration bubbling inside wasn’t going to be soothed by just a drink anymore. You were angry, angry at Belle, at Jeno, at the fact that you had let yourself feel anything at all.

Before you could make another move, a strong hand wrapped around your wrist, prying you away from the counter. You froze, looking up into the familiar dark eyes you’d been avoiding all night — Jeno.

The world felt like it stopped as Jeno glanced from you to Mark, his brows furrowed in mild concern. “Help me out here, Jen. She’s had too much already, and she won’t listen to me,” Mark said, his voice weary but relieved that someone else could take over.

Jeno’s gaze softened as he looked down at your soaked shirt, a mixture of amusement and concern crossing his face. He let out a small sigh, his grip gentle but firm as he took the can from your hand and replaced it with a bottle of water. “You’re done with the drinks for tonight, okay?” he said softly, his voice holding the same care you’d heard earlier.

Before you could protest, Jeno wrapped his arm around you, guiding you out of the kitchen, away from the noise and the eyes of your curious friends. The walk to your room was a blur, but the warmth of his hand on your waist kept you grounded, even as the alcohol swirled in your system.

The sight of Belle sobbing into someone’s shoulder as you passed through the hallway barely registered in your hazy mind. You were too focused on the warmth of Jeno’s presence beside you, the way his touch lingered longer than necessary, as if he was anchoring you.

Once in your room, Jeno gently guided you to sit on the edge of your bed, his touch careful as if he was afraid you might fall over. His eyes roamed over your beer-soaked clothes, a soft chuckle escaping him. “You’re a mess,” he teased, though his voice held no judgment. If anything, it was laced with concern, the kind of worry that felt warm and comforting instead of scolding.

You glanced down at yourself, wincing as you finally took in the state of your shirt. The beer stains were obvious now, dark patches clinging to the fabric and sticking to your skin in an uncomfortable way. You grimaced, the sticky sensation making you feel even more self-conscious. The alcohol had dulled the sharpness of your embarrassment, but not entirely. A faint blush crept up your cheeks as you mumbled, “I should change…”

You attempted to push yourself off the bed, but your limbs were heavy, sluggish from the alcohol coursing through your system. Your balance wavered, and you nearly stumbled forward before Jeno’s hand gently pressed on your shoulder, keeping you steady.

Without saying a word, he crossed the room to your closet, rummaging through the clothes until he found one of your oversized t-shirts. He walked back to you with that same quiet focus, kneeling down to your level, holding the clean shirt in his hands. His gaze met yours for a moment, and something in his expression made your heart skip a beat.

“Here,” Jeno said softly, his voice just above a whisper. “Let me help.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers reached for the hem of your beer-stained shirt. He moved slowly, giving you plenty of time to object, to stop him. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. The closeness of him, the way his eyes held nothing but tenderness. It was like the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving just the two of you in this charged, intimate bubble.

Jeno’s hands were careful as he lifted the fabric, peeling it away from your sticky skin with a precision that made your pulse quicken. The cool air hit you, contrasting the warmth of his touch. Every time his fingers brushed your arms, it sent shivers through you. It wasn’t overtly intimate, but the care he took in making sure you were comfortable made the moment feel far more meaningful than it should have.

Once your shirt was off, he handed you the fresh one, his eyes deliberately focused anywhere but your body, giving you the privacy to finish. You quickly pulled the oversized shirt over your head, feeling the soft cotton fabric glide down. Your cheeks burned, not from the alcohol, but from the way Jeno’s thoughtfulness had disarmed you, leaving your heart racing in its wake.

When you were finally settled in your clean shirt, Jeno took a step back, his hands awkwardly fumbling at his sides, unsure of what to do next. “Better?” he asked, his voice quiet but sincere.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. The warmth pooling in your chest wasn’t just from the remnants of alcohol, but from the way Jeno had cared for you, so gentle and attentive. The kindness in his actions made your emotions swirl even more intensely.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you heavy with something unspoken. The room felt smaller with Jeno in it, the atmosphere charged with a new kind of tension. It wasn’t uncomfortable though. If anything, it felt safe. Like he was there to make sure you were okay, to take care of you, in a way that made your heart feel lighter despite the whirlwind of the night.

Jeno’s eyes flicked from the bed to you, a soft concern still lacing his gaze. “You should get some rest. It’s been a long night.”

You climbed under the covers, feeling the exhaustion settling into your bones now that the noise of the party was long behind you. As you laid down, Jeno lingered by your side for a moment, his hand briefly brushing your shoulder before he moved to sit at your desk. His presence filled the room, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Jeno?” your voice came out as a soft murmur, barely loud enough to reach him, but he turned to you right away.

“Yeah?”

You hesitated for a moment before whispering, “Thanks… for everything.”

A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips, the soft light in your room making his features look even kinder than usual. “Get some sleep, y/n. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

You closed your eyes for a brief second, trying to process what was happening. Jeno was in your room. The Jeno. The one who was always surrounded by friends, admired by so many. The same Jeno your best friend had been talking about for months, and the one you, slowly but surely, had found yourself falling for.

The alcohol still buzzed in your veins, loosening your inhibitions just enough to make you bolder than usual. This was your chance, maybe Mark had been right all along. Jeno was here, with you, taking care of you in ways that felt like more than just friendly concern. Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t imagining the way he stayed close tonight, the way his eyes lingered a little longer.

It was now or never.

The air in the room felt heavy, thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. Jeno sat at your desk, his steady gaze unreadable as you shifted under the covers, a mix of nervousness and warmth blooming in your chest. The alcohol had numbed your inhibitions, but the electricity between you both was impossible to ignore.

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, trying to ground yourself in the fabric, though it did little to help. “It’s cold,” you mumbled, barely audible, your voice betraying the hint of vulnerability you didn’t want to show. In truth, the room was a bit chilly, but more than anything, you longed for his presence next to you. The space between you felt far too wide, like an unspoken barrier you didn’t know how to cross without risking everything.

Jeno’s eyes flickered toward you, his hesitation lingering in the silence that stretched between you. After a beat, he stood up from the desk, his movements slow and deliberate, as if carefully weighing each step. Your breath hitched as he approached, and your heart pounded in your chest, anticipation curling in your stomach.

Wordlessly, Jeno slid under the covers beside you, his warmth instantly chasing away the cold. His scent, a comforting mix of cologne and something undeniably him, wrapped around you, making your head spin. Instinctively, you leaned into him, your head finding its place against his chest. His arm moved naturally around you, pulling you closer, and you melted into the embrace, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek.

With Jeno’s warmth cocooning you, the outside world felt like a distant dream. The party’s once-loud music had faded into a faint murmur, barely audible over the sound of his steady breathing. Every now and then, his breath grazed your hair, sending tiny shivers down your spine. You stayed perfectly still, afraid that even the slightest movement would break this fragile moment, this perfect stillness.

“Is it still cold?” Jeno’s voice was low, a gentle murmur that seemed to sink into your very bones.

A small smile tugged at your lips, and you pressed yourself closer to him, allowing the exhaustion of the night to wash over you. “Not anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. His arm tightened around you in response, as if silently saying that he wasn’t going anywhere. That, even just for tonight, you had him.

The soft light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over the room, its dim shadows creating a cozy, intimate space that felt removed from reality. The world beyond your bedroom door seemed to slow, leaving only the two of you in this quiet bubble, suspended in time. You found yourself wishing that you could capture this feeling forever, keep this warmth and peace bottled up in your heart.

Jeno’s hand rested on your waist, his fingers moving in slow, absentminded circles over the fabric of your shirt. His touch was so gentle, so careful, that it sent little sparks dancing across your skin. It wasn’t just the alcohol making you dizzy; it was the tenderness in every brush of his fingers, the way he held you like you were something delicate.

“You’re always running around, taking care of everyone,” he murmured softly, his words carrying a weight that tugged at your heart. “Who takes care of you, y/n?”

His question hung in the air, the raw sincerity in his voice cutting through you. A lump formed in your throat, and you blinked rapidly to keep the sudden tears at bay. You hadn’t expected him to say something like that. Who did take care of you? For as long as you could remember, you were the one who held everything together, the one who put everyone else’s needs before your own. But in this moment, with Jeno’s arms wrapped around you, it felt like someone was finally seeing past all of that—seeing you.

“I… I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you admitted the truth aloud. “I guess I’m just used to it.”

Jeno shifted beside you, his body pressing closer, his breath now warm against your ear. “You deserve more than that,” he said softly, his voice low and earnest, each word landing like a promise. “You deserve someone who’ll take care of you, too.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you swallowed hard, trying to hold back the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. His words felt too good, too perfect, and a part of you was afraid to believe them. Afraid to believe that someone like Jeno could really see you like that, could want to take care of you.

Still, in this moment, wrapped in his warmth, you allowed yourself to pretend — to imagine, if only for tonight, that this could be your reality. That Jeno could be yours.

His thumb traced another slow circle on your side, his touch so gentle it was almost hypnotic. “I don’t want you to forget tonight,” he whispered, his voice even quieter now, like he was sharing a secret meant just for you.

You turned in his arms, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes locked with his. There was something in his gaze, something soft and unspoken, that made your heart race. His face was inches from yours, his breath warm on your skin, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stop altogether.

You swallowed, the words escaping you before you could think twice. “What if I do?”

For a moment, Jeno’s expression darkened, his gaze flicking down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. Then, in a movement so gentle it felt like a dream, he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The contact sent a shiver through you, your whole body reacting to the warmth of his touch.

“Then I’ll remind you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper.

The night blurred into a series of quiet moments. Soft touches, shared whispers, and a closeness that felt too tender, too fragile to belong to the real world. You could have stayed in that moment forever, tangled in Jeno’s warmth, pretending that the world outside didn’t exist.

But, as always, reality had a way of creeping back in.

Jeno’s phone buzzed on the desk beside him, the soft vibrations shattering the stillness. He sighed, his arm loosening from around you as he reached for the phone, the glow of the screen illuminating his face. You watched as his brows furrowed, his expression tense as he scrolled through the dozens of missed calls and messages.

“Shit,” he muttered, sitting up, his warmth slipping away from you entirely.

The cold rushed in immediately, filling the space where Jeno had been, and your heart sank. You knew what was coming next.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, already knowing the answer but dreading hearing it aloud.

Jeno ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the set of his jaw. “The guys… They’ve been calling me nonstop. I told them I’d leave with them, they’re my only ride home.” His voice was tinged with regret, but beneath it, you could sense the guilt.

You forced a smile, trying to mask the disappointment that was tightening in your chest. “It’s fine,” you lied, propping yourself up on your elbow. “You should go.”

Jeno glanced down at his phone again, then back at you, his jaw tightening as he hesitated. “I don’t want to leave you alone,” he said quietly, his voice thick with the conflict swirling inside him.

You shook your head, the ache in your chest growing. “I’ll be okay,” you whispered, your words feeling hollow. “Really. Go.”

For a fleeting moment, you held onto the hope that Jeno might stay. The way he looked at you, his eyes searching your face with an intensity that made your heart race, felt like a promise unspoken. But then the phone buzzed again, shattering the delicate moment. You watched as his resolve shifted, the warmth in his gaze giving way to a distant sadness.

With a heavy sigh, he rose from the bed, the fabric of the moment tearing slightly as he slipped his phone into his pocket. The air around you felt colder, thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions, as if the very room held its breath. Just before he reached the door, he hesitated, turning back to you one last time. His eyes softened as they met yours, and he stepped back toward the bed, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. It was soft and lingering, yet it carried the weight of finality.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” he whispered, his breath brushing against your skin, leaving a warmth that contrasted the chill that enveloped you after he left.

And then, he was gone.

The weekend stretched endlessly, an expanse of silence that felt like an aching void where his presence had been. No calls. No texts. Just the stark absence of his warmth and the echo of the night you had shared. With each passing hour, the memory of Jeno’s embrace faded, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts and an unsettling sense of regret.

You spent the next two days trapped in a loop of memories, replaying every moment over and over. The way he looked at you with such intensity, the way he held you close, the sincerity in his voice when he told you that you deserved better. You ached to reach out to him, to check if he still remembered the fleeting magic of that night. But every time you reached for your phone, a wave of fear stopped you cold. The thought of his response, what he might say or, worse, what he might not say, paralyzed you.

By the time Monday rolled around, you had convinced yourself that maybe it was better this way. Pretending nothing had happened would be the safest path. After all, he would slip back into his life with friends, back to the way things were before, and you would have to bear the weight of your choices alone.

As you stepped through the school doors, you immediately felt the weight of stares bearing down on you. Whispers trailed you down the hall like a shadow, and you quickly pieced together the rumors that had spread like wildfire. Word had gotten out about you and Jeno, and Belle had undoubtedly heard every detail.

It wasn’t long before she found you. Standing by your locker, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, her glare twisted your stomach into knots.

“I can’t believe you, Y/N,” Belle hissed, her voice sharp and full of venom. “You promised me you’d be there for me. You said you’d help me with Jeno, and instead, you—” She cut herself off, her voice trembling with barely contained fury.

You swallowed hard, guilt and shame coiling tightly in your chest. “Belle, I—”

“No,” she interrupted, her eyes flashing with hurt. “Don’t. Don’t act like you didn’t know. Everyone’s talking about how you left the party together. You think I didn’t see the way he looks at you?”

Your heart plummeted, a heavy weight in your stomach. You longed to explain, to articulate that it hadn’t been what it looked like, that you hadn’t intended for any of it to happen. But deep down, you knew the truth: you had crossed a line, and no amount of explanation would erase the breach of trust.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

“It’s not fair. I was so close to having him, Y/N. I was right there, and then you had to ruin it for me.” Belle’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but her expression hardened like ice. “You’re a liar. You promised to help,” she spat coldly, turning away from you. “You’re no better than the rest of them. Maybe you should’ve tried harder not to ruin everything.”

And just like that, she walked away, leaving you with the sharp sting of her betrayal echoing in the silence behind her.

You stood there, frozen, as the world around you faded into a blurry haze of whispers and judgmental stares. The hallway stretched out longer than usual, each step feeling like an uphill battle against the suffocating air thick with unspoken words. You could almost see the rumours swirling like storm clouds, brewing around you as classmates shot knowing glances. Some gleeful, others disdainful, while they whispered behind your back, oblivious to the truth.

You made it through the day by shrinking into yourself, avoiding everyone as if they were fragments of glass waiting to cut you. Each laugh from a group nearby felt like a mockery, reminding you of how the moments you shared with Jeno now felt like scattered shards, impossible to clean up without inflicting wounds on your heart. Every time you caught a glimpse of him in the halls, your chest tightened as his eyes flicked toward you for just a fleeting second before looking away, as if that one shared night had evaporated into thin air. Maybe it had for him.

The days following that night passed under a strange, silent agreement between you and Jeno. Neither of you acknowledged what had happened. No messages. No lingering glances. No awkward conversations. It was as if you had both silently decided that pretending it hadn’t meant anything was the easiest way to cope. But you couldn't shake the feeling that, to him, it truly hadn’t.

At school, Jeno slipped seamlessly back into the rhythm of his life, surrounded by his friends, laughter pouring from their mouths as if nothing had changed. He blended effortlessly into the crowd of popular kids, exuding an air of confidence that was painfully absent in you. Later, you overheard snippets of their conversations, casual, dismissive remarks. “She’s not worth it, man. You could do way better,” Haechan chuckled, as if your very existence was a punchline. Jeno merely shrugged, his indifference cutting deeper than any blade. “It was nothing.”

The words pierced through your carefully constructed defences, more painful than you could have anticipated. They shouldn’t have stung; after all, you had spent the entire weekend convincing yourself that you didn’t care, that it was just a fleeting moment. But those three words echoed in your mind, a relentless mantra: It was nothing.

Still, you played your part. Whenever you passed him in the halls or found yourself near his group during lunch, you donned a mask of indifference so convincingly that you almost started to believe it yourself. You laughed with your other friends, pretended to focus in class, and convinced yourself that forgetting was the best option. You were adept at pretending, had to be, but that night continued to linger, haunting you like a bittersweet melody you couldn't silence.

The only person who seemed to peel back your façade was Mark. You never spoke about that night directly, but he could read between the lines. He noticed the way your gaze avoided Jeno, how your laughter felt forced, and how your smile no longer reached your eyes.

One afternoon, when the weight of everything felt too heavy to bear, you found yourself gravitating toward Mark. He sat on the grass at the edge of the soccer field, scribbling furiously in his notebook. You dropped down beside him, the warmth of the sun contrasting with the cold ache in your chest. He looked up, brow raised, but he didn’t say anything right away, giving you space to breathe.

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” you finally admitted, staring into the distance as the horizon blurred with your emotions.

Mark closed his notebook, shifting his full attention to you. “Want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling inside you. “Not really. Just… everything’s a mess.”

He didn’t press you, but his unwavering gaze bore into you, his concern palpable. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I can tell you’re not okay.”

The tightness in your chest intensified at his words, and you forced a laugh that felt hollow. “It’s not a big deal. I barely even remember that night, anyway.”

Mark didn’t buy it. He never did. “You don’t have to lie to me. But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay too.”

The silence stretched between you, filled with all the unsaid things that hung heavy in the air. You stared at the ground, fighting the emotions that threatened to spill over.

“Jeno didn’t say anything, did he?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could hold it back.

Mark sighed, leaning back on his hands. “He’s pretending it never happened, too. His friends… Well, they’re being assholes, like always. Told him he could do better. You know how they are.”

You nodded, the weight of disappointment sinking deeper into your bones. Of course they would say that. Of course Jeno would follow their lead. It was easier to dismiss the connection you had shared, to act like you hadn’t been wrapped up in each other, sharing warmth and vulnerability in a way that felt almost sacred.

Sensing your shift in mood, Mark nudged your shoulder lightly, offering a small smile. “Look, I’m not gonna pretend to understand what’s going on in Jeno’s head. But you deserve better than this, better than being some secret he feels like he has to hide.”

His words wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, yet they only amplified the ache in your heart. You wished it didn’t hurt so much, wished you could just move on like Jeno seemed to. But the truth was, that night had meant something to you. Even if you shouldn’t have felt that way, even if you tried to convince yourself otherwise, it did.

It wasn’t just the gossip or the whispers that hurt; it was the entire situation. The reality that you had gotten swept up in something so fleeting, yet so consuming. You felt like you were living on a stage, where every move was scrutinised, turned into something larger than life. Belle, Jeno, his friends; they were all part of that act, and now, so were you. You thought back to the party, to the fragile intimacy you had shared with Jeno, the way you had intertwined your lives for a moment. But the harsh reality was that it hadn’t been real. Not for him.

When you got home, you collapsed onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling, its familiar texture suddenly feeling foreign and oppressive. The quiet of your room suffocated you, amplifying the echoes of whispers and judgment that had followed you all day. It should have been a relief to escape the chaos, but instead, it was a stark reminder of how alone you felt. Gone were the masks and the laughter; all that remained was the haunting silence, thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

Your phone buzzed, and for a fleeting moment, hope flickered inside you. Maybe it was Jeno, maybe he finally had something to say, something that could bridge the chasm that had formed between you two. But as you glanced down, the screen illuminated a message from Mark instead.

Mark: How you holding up?

You stared at the words, the glow of the screen casting a pale light over your uncertainty. Mark had always been the one to see beyond your carefully constructed façade, the only person who didn’t press for answers you weren’t ready to give. His concern was palpable even through the digital barrier, but the weight of your own feelings made it hard to respond.

You: I don’t know.

The reply felt painfully inadequate, a thin veil over the storm churning inside you. You tossed your phone aside, pulling your knees up to your chest, as if trying to protect your heart from the world outside. What did you even want at this point? Jeno wasn’t coming back to fix things, and Belle was probably rehearsing her next round of accusations. You felt caught in a strange, uncomfortable limbo, yearning to forget while being unable to erase the vivid memories of that night.

In the days that followed, you had tried to convince yourself the night with Jeno was nothing more than a fleeting mistake, a moment spurred by alcohol and the warmth of the moment. But now, as the realization washed over you, it became painfully clear: you had wanted it to mean something more. You craved the way he looked at you that night—not with the haze of drunken affection, but with something deeper, something that could fill the void you felt inside.

But he didn’t. He never would.

You remained motionless on your bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, feeling the silence stretch around you like a shroud. Your phone buzzed again, probably Mark checking in, but you couldn’t muster the energy to respond. The weight of your decisions pressed heavily on your chest, reminding you of the loss that had settled in your heart.

You had lost your best friend, sacrificed your bond with Belle for something ephemeral, and now, you were left to pick up the pieces alone. And maybe that was what hurt the most. The realization that in the end, none of it had felt real. Not the intimate moments shared with Jeno, not the friendship you had thought you could count on with Belle. Everything felt built on a shaky foundation, fragile and destined to crumble.

As you lay there, you reached for your phone, hoping to drown out the noise in your head with music. You scrolled through your playlist, searching for anything that could take you away from this moment. And then it started, the familiar notes of Crush Culture by Conan Gray filled the room, wrapping around you like a bittersweet embrace.

With each lyric, you felt a rush of recognition that hit you like a truck. Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out. The words resonated deeply, echoing the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. It was as if Conan had taken the scattered pieces of your heart and crafted them into a song, pulling at the very strings of your soul.

The lines about fleeting moments, unreciprocated feelings, and the pain of wanting something that was never truly yours surged through you. You closed your eyes, allowing the music to wash over you, each note igniting memories of that night with Jeno. The way he held you, the laughter you shared, the promises whispered in the dark. But with each line, the weight of reality crashed down harder, reminding you of the distance that had grown between you since then.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, the catharsis almost overwhelming as the song played on. You could feel every word burrowing into your heart, every melody capturing the longing you tried to hide. This wasn’t just about Jeno; it was about everything you had lost, everything you had poured into moments that turned out to be nothing but illusions.

And in that moment, you felt a fragile clarity. You might be lost now, but you wouldn’t stay that way forever. The lyrics continued to echo around you, each syllable a promise that you would find a way through the pain, that you could reclaim your voice, your heart, and maybe, just maybe, discover what it meant to feel whole again.

As the song faded into silence, you lay back against your pillows, allowing the tears to flow freely. It was time to face the truth, to embrace the chaos of your emotions, and to start piecing together a new beginning. And with that thought, you closed your eyes, a flicker of hope igniting within you. A hope that lingered long after the last notes faded away.

546 notes · View notes

jaylaxies · 1 year ago

Text

TIDES AND TEMPTATION

PAIRING: siren!sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, fluff, angst, mentions of kidnapping, pirates, war, blood, sirens and mer-people, mentions of nicknames, cunnilingus, breeding, unprotected sex, underwater kingdom.

WC: 5.2k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: happiest birthday to my love @celeste-hoon this one’s for youu <3 also hihi, angels! we’ve finally reached the last fic for this year’s kinktober! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

The sound of waves crashing against one another, the sudden buzz of urgent chatter and running, and the burn of ropes digging into the flesh of your wrists woke you up from your uncomfortable slumber of unconsciousness.

It was bright, albeit the lack of sunlight as the clouds covered the sky. You blinked once, and twice before realizing exactly where you were, your mind reeling back to what had happened over the past one day—or more. You weren’t aware of how long you had been knocked out for.

You remember going out with your friends at the sea shore, your peace interrupted by the sudden screams, the pain following soon after you saw the group of pirates trying to capture everyone in the vicinity, you weren’t an exception.

Your cries were ignored. Fighting back was of no use as they easily took control, using the rope to tie you up as they carried you into the massive blue coloured ship, your body too tired to keep up, falling limp till you reached here.

You were on the deck, tied up with a lot more people who were just as panicked if not more, yet you couldn’t spot any of your friends. The pirates were in a rush, their swords out and a sweet melody lingering in the air despite the bloodshed filled atmosphere.

You cried out, not sure as to who the pirates were fighting, but it seemed as if everyone was suddenly in a trance, which kept on breaking and emerging again as they attacked the other force.

Suddenly, a guy rushed to where you were tied up, cutting your ropes and pulling you up as you struggled against his grip, tears flowing down your cheeks with the chaos around you, no energy left in you.

The ship wasn’t in control anymore, the waves overpowered the balance, the sweet melody in the background loud enough to put you in a trance, your eyes shifting from the blue of the water to the sea cave which shone bright, embedded with the prettiest set of stones you had ever seen, along with the creatures you didn’t know existed till date.

You weren’t sure what you felt as the ship flipped completely, the screams muffled as you came in contact with the water, your eyes closing as you failed to try to swim, the coldness of water making it harder.

However, you were pulled to the side by someone, your eyes barely open to take in the sight of what looked like a tail, its scales mixed with a palette of blues, dark greens, slightest shades of purple and pink merging together to form a luminescent look.

Your eyes closed shut yet again, and the creature took you deep inside the siren caverns, helping you up on the flat surface of the emerald rock, looking at you with dark, curious eyes.

You were far from the water where the bloodshed had taken place, the pirate crew along with the prisoners long gone, devoured by the mer-people, who once looked like the prettiest entities on earth, now seemed to be no less than demons with their claws out, sharp canines on display as they munched on their new food source.

But not the siren who was with you.

He looked ethereal with the white glow around which illuminated his figure, one strand of his dark hair braided intricately, tiny flowers adorning them as he looked down at your unconscious figure with a slight tilt of his head, holding himself up on the rock, letting his tail rest in the water.

Your wet dress was now clinging to your body, beads of sand on your skin and your breathing uneven, eyes threatening to open again with distress.

He didn’t move when you opened your eyes, which were full of hurt and exhaustion, you couldn’t scream in fear. Instead, you found yourself staring back at him just as curiously, taking in the pretty moles scattered all over his body, his soft glistening pink lips with fangs peeking out and resting on them. You took notice of the dainty jewelry he had adorned, from his necklace to his ear cuffs, from his arm cuff which barely contained his muscles to the gold chain he had around his slender waist, you observed it all.

He was the prettiest creature you had ever come across.

He wondered why he was so fascinated when he was supposed to hate your kind, the kind which destroyed his kingdom.

But not you. You looked lost, scared, as if the humans didn’t show mercy to their own kinds too, he was intrigued, his heart beating faster taking in the soft glow the carven stones reflected upon you.

“Let me go,” your voice came out breathless, body shaking with the cool air around you, caressing your soaked body.

His expression didn’t change, however you could see a glimpse of amusement in his eyes at your plea.

He took a hold of your chin, sensing your fear heightening with his move, “what’s your name?” He asked, voice smooth as if his siren tone was trying to comply you to answer him.

Your voice came out in a whisper as you told him your name, which he repeated after you to get the pronunciation right and you suddenly felt as if your name was the prettiest thing you’d ever heard.

The small moment was ruined the second other sirens came swimming into the cavern, hissing as they saw you but they stopped the second they noticed another siren with you.

“Fuck! Let go of me,” you exasperated, not wanting to become food for the bloodthirsty creatures.

His gaze was stoic all of a sudden as he addressed them, paying your words zero attention, no traces of kindness as his loud voice boomed in the area, “touch her and you die,” he warned everyone, the fear evident in their eyes as they bowed down, swimming back into the depths of the ocean.

“How?” You breathed out, and he turned to look your way again, cupping your cheek, sudden warmth blooming in your body and you were torn, trying to decide if you wanted to hate him or not.

“Open your mouth,” he orders, and you gulp, shaking your head despite knowing that you had nowhere to escape, but also slightly aware of the fact that you felt a pull towards this siren, and it scared you even further. “Don’t be difficult,” he warned.

Slowly, you parted your mouth, observing his next move. He was quick to snap open his heart shaped pendant, taking a white pearl out and placing it on your tongue, the taste buds already delighted at the sweetness the pearl harboured.

“Eat it, it’ll help you breathe in the water,” he said, eyes so dark yet shiny.

“No! What? No, I can’t go in there—” you looked horrified at the idea.

He simply looked at you, “you have nowhere else to go. So, it’s either you follow me, or you become food for the others,” he said, referring to the sirens which you had encountered a few minutes back.

He left you no choice, his gaze sharp as he waited for your answer. With a gulp, you nodded, choosing to follow him as he saved your life, finally intaking the pearl, watching him nod with the slightest upliftment of his lip.

“Come,” he extended his hand for you to take.

“Wait,” you stopped him, “what’s your name?”

“Sunghoon,” he spoke, voice rich as he finally held on to your hand, intertwining your fingers, “and you belong to me now.”

He didn’t give you a chance to react pulling you with him. Panic seeped through you, which was soon replaced by shock as you could easily breathe under the water, as said by Sunghoon, who held on to you tighter, taking you deep inside the water.

You were mesmerized by the schools of fishes around you, coral reefs of all colours decorating the sea. Nothing felt real to you anymore. It was too surreal to be real, especially the siren next to you, who had his eyes set on you.

You didn’t know what was to come.

If someone told you you’d be visiting a royal palace deep inside the sea then you would have laughed in their face.

However, now that you had actually reached such a place, trying to hold in your panic, you weren’t sure how to react, granted that you had pinched yourself a few times to wake up in case it was a dream.

Which wasn’t the case sadly.

The shock was clear on your face when the tailed guards with tridents bowed down looking at Sunghoon. The place was epitome of beauty, decorated with underwater planktons and shells, the merfolks eyed you with curiosity, to which you held on to Sunghoon’s arm tighter.

“Why are we here? Don’t tell me you’re a prince,” you said, still wondering how you got to breathe under the water, also staring at the big shell covered with foam, a few mermaids sitting there, whispering amongst themselves but it was clear that you were the topic of their gossip.

Sunghoon didn’t answer your question, taking you into a big chamber which seemed to be his room, and you stilled, thinking that maybe he did belong to the royal family.

“Jake, come here,” Sunghoon called out, revealing a siren with an elegant, green coloured tail.

He bowed down the second he was summoned in front of Sunghoon, “yes, your majesty?”

“Set up a chamber with no water. It should have the atmosphere similar to that of the land. Also arrange human clothing as per the size of my princess,” he ordered, eyes flickering towards you when he spoke the last part and Jake bowed down, leaving you both alone.

“Y—you’re actually a prince? Oh god, I can’t be staying here—and what do you mean princess?” You rambled, losing your mind, your eyes comically wide at this statement.

It must be a joke, it has to be a joke.

“Shh,” he came closer, trapping you against the wall, “I told you, you belong to me now, princess,” he spoke up in his ever so silky voice, his eyes glowing.

“But—”

“Oh, princess,” he cupped your cheek, thumb tracing the curve of your cheek, “you’re cute if you think you have a choice, there’s no way to go back now, the ship is destroyed.” His voice came out deeper than you had expected, lips brushing against your ear, causing goosebumps to arise on your skin.

“You know this is kidnapping, right?” You tried to argue.

“Not when you want to be here,” he retorted, looking back at you, his pointy nose caressing yours, “you can fight all you want, princess. It won’t change the fact that your heart beats fast whenever I come close to you,” he says, pulling back with a smirk and swimming away, leaving you all alone in his chamber.

You couldn’t move, as if he saw right through you when he mentioned your heartbeat, because no matter how hard you tried, even you couldn’t convince yourself that you weren’t a flustered mess around him.

You didn’t know how they managed to set up a chamber without the water but somehow it happened, and in record time too, which had you sighing with pleasure when your feet finally landed on the floor.

Meanwhile, you were conflicted again, not sure if you’d be okay alone in a room, but at the same time you didn’t wish to sleep with Sunghoon (read: you feared you’d lose control around him) but the thought didn’t bother you for long as you sat down on the big foamy bed they had arranged for you, along with myriads of clothes in all colours and patterns, majority of them consisting of silky dresses, the fabric more watery than water itself.

You half expected Sunghoon to visit you before sleeping, which didn’t happen and you couldn’t deny that it disappointed you, granted you knew no one but him.

Your feelings were all over the place, nothing felt real but you weren’t sure if the reality of being on land would be any better than the comfort you’re seeking being under the water, away from the danger as you remembered that you indeed have someone who’s willing to save you.

Yet you can’t help but want to fight him for being so unnecessarily cocky, then again, he was a prince, and a siren prince at that, you couldn’t blame him for the way he was.

Sleep came easily, especially when you were in the comfort of the foamy bed they had arranged for you while you were clad in the silkiest night slip you found in the grand closet, which again was arranged for you in record time.

You weren’t sure how long you slept, but your body needed the rest, and by the time you woke up, all your little wounds and bruises were gone from the fight yesterday, not to mention how you were surrounded by a bunch of curious mermaids who were sent to take care of you, their tails had turned into legs as they entered your room.

“Hey, nice to meet you guys,” you spoke awkwardly, glad that they weren’t being rude to you, but they were curious about you.

“Does his highness talk to you?”

“How did you guys meet?”

“Prince Sunghoon never brings anyone back to the palace, you must be really special to him.”

All three spoke up, making your eyes go wide, “he doesn’t?” You ask and they shake their heads to confirm the statement.

You feel your cheeks beating up, trying to look elsewhere to calm down. The mermaids were nice, taking you to the royal bath first, also fetching you some human food, surprisingly the most scrumptious one you had ever consumed.

However, they were quick to leave the second Sunghoon arrived at your chamber, his tail too getting converted into long legs, his torso on display but his legs covered with a blue-green silky cloth wrapped around his waist, being the same colour as his tail.

“Slept well, princess?” He asked, approaching where you sat down on your bed.

“Don’t call me that, I won’t ever be your princess,” you breathed out.

“Feisty one, aren’t you?” He clicked his tongue, face indifferent as if he was expecting this exact reaction.

He came closer, observing your face where the scratch wound had been previously, he smelled like fresh ocean breeze, the kind that makes you feel alive even on the dullest of your days, and you couldn’t help but clear your throat and look away.

“How do you have legs now?” You asked, deviating your attention, but he continued staring at your face, “don’t you have princely duties to take care of?” You asked, trying to get him to talk, but again, he continued to stare at you, his head tilting slightly as you gulped, not looking into his eyes.

“Taking care of my princess is a part of my duty,” he said as smooth as ever, leaving you speechless yet again.

You didn’t notice the necklace he had in his slender fingers, made up of prettiest shades of little shells. It was delicate, almost magical with how sparkling it looked to the eyes, “got them made from the rarest shells of the kingdom,” he spoke up, inching closer to help you wear it.

His touch was cold, juxtaposing the trail of warmth he left he left behind as he clasped it behind your neck, your eyelids fluttering close at the proximity, a shiver running down your spine as he whispered into your ear, “I found the necklace pretty, but you made it look prettier.”

It was impossible for you to stop thinking about Sunghoon it seemed, even more so when you had the prettiest necklace resting on your clavicle. It was as if the water around you had some sort of magic which made your mind drift back to the certain dark haired prince over and over again.

Maybe it was because you were in his kingdom, or maybe because he was a siren, the creature famous for its manipulative skills. Yet you knew he wasn’t using his siren voice or anything related to that when he talked to you.

Shaking your head, you focused on exploring the palace with your three new friends, the mermaids you had met earlier in the morning. The word pretty would not be enough to describe your surroundings as you observed the tiny pink seahorses moving around in a line at the back gardens of the palace.

“I see how envious everyone is, their stares could actually kill,” one of the mermaids spoke up.

“Why don’t you guys hate me?” You grimaced while asking.

“Because the prince has his eyes set on you and you only—also, we are his cousins so we don’t really like the whole idea of incest,” they explained with soft smiles.

“Oh—” you said out loud before they nudged you to look at the person who was already present in your chamber, none other than your prince.

A sudden wave of giddiness travelled down your body, leaving just as quick when you mentally reminded yourself to not fall for his antics. He was a siren chasing a human girl after all.

“Prince Sunghoon. What do I owe this pleasure for?” You ask, standing in front of his taller frame as your friends leave you in privacy, closing the door behind them as they leave.

He stood with his back facing you, and that was a dangerous sight already with his muscles flexing at every little movement of his.

To prevent this from happening (read: your mind going mush at the sight of him), you moved swiftly and situated yourself in the comfort of your big bed, his eyes observing you carefully, just like always and the action was enough for the corner of his lips to lift up ever so slightly.

“Prince and Princess should sleep together, don’t you think so, pretty?” He asked in his velvety tone.

Each time you try to step back to calm yourself, Sunghoon comes up saying something bizarre, leaving you more disoriented than before.

“W—what are you talking about? We’re not even married yet—”

“Yet. Well, I’m glad to see you being enthusiastic about it,” he mused, harbouring a lopsided grin as he neared you.

Your mouth was open as you tried to display just how against you were of the idea, “I’m not marrying you,” you confirmed.

He rolled his eyes, wrapping his fingers around your ankle, pulling you closer effortlessly, enough for your face to be inches away from him, your legs dangling on either side of him as he stood in between your legs.

“Cute,” he chuckled, taking the authority with less to no effort, his sharp fangs on display as he grabs your neck in a swift moment, the action has you seeing stars even with the lack of pressure on his hold, other hand caressing your bottom lip with his thumb, brushing the same spot over and over again.

“Sunghoon—”

“Y’know what, princess? You remind me of this little creature I came across when I visited your land. She was just like you—hissing and scratching till I got down on my knees and gave her gentle caresses on her back,” he told the story, making you freeze on spot, his voice captivating, “such a sweet kitten she was. You’re the same, so violent despite being a cute little kitten, all you need is a gentle caress—” he caressed your cheek to make a point, “to have you mewling like a kitten.”

You couldn’t stop the little whimper escaping your lips the second he said so, proving his point even further as your cheeks burned with embarrassment? Proximity? His fingers around your neck? Or the way he made you mewl exactly like a cat? You couldn’t decide.

“Sweet dreams, princess.” He smirked, leaving you alone for the night, speechless as ever.

You couldn’t, for the life of you, face Sunghoon after the little stunt he pulled last night and you did everything in your power to avoid him the following day, which he found amusing as he watched you swimming away from a distance, using your pretty legs in the middle of other sirens, the necklace still wrapped around your pretty neck.

Others complained how he didn’t smile much to none, which changed when he found himself smiling with his dimples on display at the sight of his cousin mermaids giving you various sea flowers, tucking them behind your ear, which made them glow. The bioluminescence felt like magic to you as they glowed when you smiled, moving around and discovering the secrets these deep waters held, your eyes meeting Sunghoon’s for a brief second when you realized he’s watching from the balcony of his chambers. Your breath hitched, the sight of his torso never failing to get you flustered as you averted your eyes to focus on something else—anything else.

You couldn’t help but admit that you enjoyed this new life, and that you were grateful to be alive, to be saved by a certain siren who was in your mind twenty four seven, the circadian clock adjusting to your new ways of living.

You watched yourself in the big reflecting surface which served to be the mirror in your room, your skin had a newfound glow and your body looked pretty clad in the blue dress which was lighter than the air, the fabric almost felt like silky fluid.

The noise of shuffling behind you caught your attention, and you simply assumed that it would be Sunghoon who had come to visit you again, which wasn’t the case as you turned around to see an ugly siren with its claws out, reaching out to you with the most gut wrenching scream it could muster.

Your eyes widened, hands covering your ear to save your precious eardrums, crouching down to save yourself.

Maybe you said it too early, maybe this life was just a little something god had given to you before trying to snatch everything away from you, including your life. You waited for the attack, you waited for the trident to pierce your body.

Yet the attack never came.

With your body shaking, you dared to open your eyes, only to find Sunghoon with his eyes pitch black as he held on to the other siren by its neck. His grip was strong, the sound of bone crushing only made you look away in fear, “how dare you—” he spoke up, voice loud and shaking with anger, “—try to hurt my princess?” He didn’t hold back anymore, slamming his head on the floor, blood splattering everywhere, a few drops landing on his face.

Sunghoon didn’t wish to drag it long, especially when he knew that you were terrified, “clean it up,” he ordered Jake, who was quick to oblige his command.

“Princess,” Sunghoon spoke up once you were alone in the chamber, his voice gentle as you looked up at him through tears, noticing that the siren was nowhere to be found, “he’s gone, he won’t be back,” Sunghoon told you.

You stood up shaking, rushing into his arms. Sunghoon was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, the other hand resting on the back of your head, patting you gently to calm you down.

“Hoon,” you whispered, “why did he come after me?” You asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

“He wanted the crown, so—so he went after the person I cherished the most,” Sunghoon told you earnestly, trying not to kiss you the second you used the nickname.

“Please don’t lie to me,” your voice came out as a whisper, lower lip jutting out in a pout. You couldn’t resist him anymore.

He cradled your face, his fingertips soft against your skin, providing you with the warmth you had gotten so familiar with over the past few days, maybe it was the way he had protected you since the day he first laid his eyes on you, maybe it was how he never failed to express his emotions when it came to you, speaking whatever came to his mind, maybe it was how his eyes were full of love and a promise of something more.

That’s what made you want to kiss the prettiest creature you had ever met.

His touch was light as the feather, which allowed you to move swiftly as you got on your tippy toes, placing your soft lips against his rosy ones in a quick kiss.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, the tenderness lingering behind on your lips, but that wasn’t enough for him. He bit his lower lip, pulling you closer by the waist, his body pressing against yours as he pulled you into a feverish kiss, the kind that leaves you breathless, his lips slotting against yours in a perfect manner, as if puzzle pieces put together.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed out the second he separated from the kiss.

“Why? Don’t you want your princess now—” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before he was picking you up with ease, lips on your again, his muscles flexing as he carried you to the bed, getting on top of you, giving you a second to breathe.

It was the way he stared so deeply into your eyes, it had you melting in his arms, “want you,” you admitted, “so much.”

His smile was wide, mesmerizing you to the point you had to lean on your elbow, kissing his dimpled cheek before trailing kisses down his jaw. The peck on his Adam's apple however, was enough to drive him over the edge.

You looked so pretty like this, lips glossy and eyes begging to have more of him, all of him. It was like a tune playing in the background when he dipped down to trail kisses all over your clavicle, sucking love marks all over your previously untouched skin, his fangs digging into your flesh slightly, providing you with the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, your back arching as he got rougher with his approach.

His touch was electrifying as he grabbed the curve of your waist, “you’re my human, all mine,” he mumbled against your skin. If his voice was alluring for you then every inch of you was alluring for him.

Your dress was easy to remove, soon thrown on the ground, exposing your body to Sunghoon, who swears he’d worship you each day. You squeeze his bicep, holding on to him tight, his finesse showing as he takes your tits in his mouth, squeezing the other one when you moaned, no room in between you for any air to pass through.

He continued kissing lower and lower, covering the expanse of your body in a silent prayer. He was claiming you his.

Lifting your legs on his shoulder, he continued peppering kisses all over your lower abdomen, your fingers tugging on his silky roots to get a grip, pretty whines leaving your lips, telling him to stop teasing.

He couldn’t ever deny you, now sucking on your clit, tongue tasting every drop of your arousal, prodding your entrance. The brush of his nose on your clit had you shivering with need, “Hoonie,” you whispered, eyes closing at the unadulterated bliss he provided you with.

He fucked his tongue into your hole, desperate to have your taste all over him, the rings on his fingers juxtaposing the warmth of your body as he held your thighs open, his shoulders providing to be sturdy and strong for your legs.

It was too much, your hands were sweaty, now gripping on the silky sheets as you stared at the watery ceiling, which reflected the lewd image back at you—Prince Sunghoon buried in your cunt, immersed in eating you out, wanting to have every inch of his princess.

Your back arched into him, craving more of him as you felt your high approaching with the spasming of your pussy, your body not being able to handle more of his ministrations, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles, lewd noises all around the room as you finally orgasmed, telling him taste all of you.

“Fuck, you’re my sweet nectar and I’m obsessed,” he muttered, coming up to push his tongue inside your mouth, the kiss deeper than ever as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

You didn’t even notice when he unpinned his cloth from his waist, the delicate chain and ornaments decorating his perfectly sculpted body as you finally saw him—long, thick, and hard for you. Your mind blanked out, it wasn’t gonna fit, but you couldn’t help but whine for more.

“Make me yours,” you whispered, and he pulled you impossibly closer, as if trying to meld his body with yours, your arousal had his lips glistening, his eyes turning dark again.

“You’re so fucking mine,” he spoke in a deep breath, pumping his cock a few times, “all mine,” he pecked the corner of your mouth, chuckling as you chased for more.

And he gave you exactly that, your eager holes taking him in slowly as he pushed himself inside your warm cunt, the walls clenching around, trying to adjust to his length and for a second you forgot that you were being fucked by a siren, his cock too perfect, too big for you.

“Oh god,” you cried out as he pumped himself into you slowly, trying to fit himself into you by each thrust. You were so fucked out already, wanting to kiss Sunghoon every chance you got and you were afraid of how fast you developed feelings for your pretty siren.

“That’s it, baby. That’s my good girl,” he praised as you took him in fully, his cock snugly fit inside you, your toes curling with the overwhelming sensation. He grabbed your hips, pistoning into you harder, faster, panting near your ear before keeping his forehead against yours in hopes of mapping out, learning and remembering every expression of yours.

Oh you looked beautiful.

The moonlight coming down from the mirror-like ceiling only casted a glow on you, making you seem even more magical than Sunghoon thought you are and you wanted this moment to last forever, his cock twitching and hitting the deepest spots in you, the spots that had your mind shutting off.

“So—so close,” you whimpered, and he held on to you tighter.

“Let go, princess. Come for me,” he said, kissing your tears of pleasure away as he too rushed to fuck you harder, making sure you felt every inch of him in your core, filling you up as you heard sweet melodies, as if you had reached heaven, you both coming undone together, holding each other with need.

He kissed your temple, caressing your cheek before placing sweet kisses all over, telling you how well you did, before saying something that made you cry out of what you’d call love.

“I used to sit on the rock staring at the moon, my mother told me I’d get my soulmate soon,” he said, looking at you softly, the look in his eyes was enough to confirm that you wanted to stay with him for life.

“And now that I’ve found you, I’m never letting you go, princess.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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elixirfromthestars · 4 months ago

Text

Usual

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Florist!Reader

Summary: Bucky keeps to his usual routine every week. On Mondays, it includes you.

Word Count: ~700

Warning(s): none. fluffy goodness <3 established nickname ⟶ tulip

a/n: This Bucky has been swimming in my head for a while, so this little drabble came out as a result. Hope you enjoyed reading! Feedback is always appreciated 🤍 Also I'm hosting a little writing challenge if you want to check it out. 🤍

the whole collection ♡

The bells above your shop door chimed a short melody as it opened. The steady thud of heavy boots followed suit. You turn to face the entrance with your usual welcoming demeanor.

It was Monday. He always comes on Monday.

“ Hey, Bucky. Here for the usual?” You ask like clockwork, already knowing the answer.

“ ‘Course, Tulip,” he replies, smiling at you with that usual twinkle in his eyes. The one that only shows up when he talks to you. You can’t help the way your heart skips a beat when he uses that nickname he gave you months ago.

“ Coming right up,” you respond, turning to the small shelves behind the counter. The ones lined up with your homemade jams and honeys. Every Monday he buys three of each to serve at his bar in a mix of different snack dishes.

His favorite happens to be the one he named after you—Tulip’s Sweet Special.

Bucky strolls over to the flowers that align the walls adjacent to the front counter. Rows upon rows of an array of colors and different-sized petals. A rainbow of the prettiest blooms nature has to offer.

Meanwhile, you’re putting the mason jars of sweet spreads in a small wicker basket. Glancing at him briefly to stare at his side profile and the way he looks at the flowers intently. Almost as if waiting for them to speak to him.

You wonder what flowers he’ll choose today.

You don’t have to wonder for long as he walks over to the counter with a bouquet of white and pink daises, adorned with a touch of lavender. You look at them with a knowing smile on your face. The rugged biker almost looks comical—in the sweetest way—with the bouquet in hand.

“ Will that be all?” You ask him, motioning to the flowers and the goods in the basket. Bucky nods, lightly scratching at the stubble on his face,“ That’s all, Tulip. And I’ll get ya that basket of yours later. Forgot it back at the bar,” he mentions the basket he borrowed a week ago to transport last week’s items on his bike.

Of course, he forgot it. He always does.

“ No need. I’ll just come by the bar later and get it,” you say to him—this little forgetful exchange an excuse to see each other again. It's about the fifth time you’ve done this little rendezvous in the last two months.

Bucky grins in a way that would make any woman swoon,“ I’ll be waitin’ on ya then.” You can’t help the warmth that finds its way to your face.

You ring him up, and as you’re getting his change ready he places the flowers in the empty vase on the counter. The one you leave for whatever flowers he buys for you that week. You look at them and the way he delicately places them inside, with a tender care you were one of a handful of people who’s ever seen him dawn. The action envelopes you with a doting affection.

“ Thank you for the flowers, Bucky,” you say with a soft sincerity. No matter how many times he buys you flowers the action still causes your heart to flutter.

“ No need for the thanks—or the change,” he says, lightly closing your fingers around the change in your hand with his calloused one. The slight touch is electric and it makes you both yearn for more.

You give him that look. That usual look that says you’re doing this again and he replies with a look that conveys hell yeah I am.

You know better than to argue with that look.

“ Come spend it at my bar later instead,” he suggests shrugging nonchalantly—but his eyes and grin reflect everything but nonchalance. There’s a deep rooted sentiment there that is desperate to be freed and brought to the surface.

You hum, pretending to think about it,“ Alright, deal.” Bucky responds to your agreement by giving you a pleased nod.

Bucky grabs the basket of goods. The rough exterior of his hands contrasted with the gentle almost tender way he held the basket. He was always delicate and careful with anything that belonged to you.

The basket looked so much smaller when he held it.

Bucky sends you a farewell wink,“ See ya later, Tulip,” and then he turns to leave with a small wave of his hand.

“ See you later, Bucky,” you reply before leaning on the counter, hands resting in your palms. You watch him walk back out to his motorcycle with a longing stare.

When he was out of sight, you listened intently to the revving of his engine bike, anticipating the day you two would go past the usual.

Until then you’d cherish this routine affair.

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simjaexy · 3 months ago

Text

𝙏𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙈𝙚 | 𝙋.𝙅.

pairing ⇀ bf! park jongseong x (f) reader

synopsis ⇀ you stop by jay’s studio to visit him and end up with him teaching you how to play the guitar. what you also end up with is his fingers inside you.

genre ⇀ smut

warnings ⇀ lower case intended, minors dni, cursing, making out, grinding, fingering, choking, cum eating, name calling (slut), lmk if there more!

w.c ⇀ 1.1k

a/n ⇀ i was planning on making it longer but i had another one shot coming soon so i’m finishing that one up. lmk what you think of this drabble! not proofread!

masterlist here!

the soft hum of a guitar filled the air as you stepped into the studio. jay was sitting on a stool, his fingers dancing effortlessly over the strings. the notes he played were soothing and intricate, creating a beautiful melody that resonated throughout the room. he looked up and smiled when he saw you, his eyes lighting up with a mix of surprise and joy.

"hey, I didn't expect you to drop by.” he said, setting his guitar down for a moment.

you smiled back, feeling a flutter in your chest, "I was curious to see you in action. plus, I was hoping you could teach me a few things."

jay's grin widened, his excitement palpable. "i'd love to.”

you walked over to him, and he handed you the guitar. his hands were warm as they guided yours to the correct positions on the strings. he explained each chord with patience, his voice soothing and encouraging.

"okay, this is a g chord," he said, placing your fingers on the frets. "now, press down firmly and strum."

you strummed the chord, and a pleasant sound resonated from the guitar. jay’s eyes sparkled with pride. "see? you're a natural."

as you continued to practice, jay moved closer, his presence comforting and alluring. he showed you how to transition between chords smoothly, his fingers occasionally brushing against yours making you flustered. each time you made a mistake, he was quick to reassure you.

"it’s all about practice," he said, his voice gentle. "everyone starts somewhere."

you nodded, feeling more confident with each passing minute. the studio seemed to fade away as you focused on the guitar and jay's guidance.

"now, let's try a simple melody," jay suggested, his enthusiasm infectious. he played a few notes, demonstrating the sequence. "give it a shot."

you followed his lead, your fingers moving hesitantly at first. but with jay's encouragement, you soon found a rhythm. the melody was simple, but to you, it felt like an achievement.

"you’re doing amazing," jay said, giving you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. "we should do this more often."

you looked up at him, your heart swelling with gratitude, but you felt another feeling from the way he squeezed your shoulder with a gaze you couldn’t describe, "i’d like that."

as the session went on, you couldn’t help but watch jays fingers as they strum softly against the guitar. you felt your heart pang when he used his two fingers to slide up the string (yk what i’m talking about). you shook your head and cursed at yourself for thinking like that in a heartfelt moment. jay then looked up at you with a grin.

"You're a quick learner," he said, his eyes twinkling. you felt a faint hotness upon your cheeks and looked away.

“w-well thanks to you.” you stuttered. jay hummed and stood up making you stare at him confused. slowly he leaned into your space causing you to back up against the desk.

“i’m not stupid baby. i see how you looked at my fingers. what were you thinking?” jay muttered. you felt yourself getting embarrassed and put your hands on his chest.

“i-i wasn’t trying too make it weird-“ “then you should be ashamed for making it like that.” he cut you off. you gasped when you felt one of his hands creep against you waist, gripping it softly.

“well don’t back out now. tell me what you were thinking.” he smirked. you whimpered when he suddenly lifted your skirt up revealing your wet panties.

“seongie-“ “tell me. what were you thinking when i was playing the guitar?” he suddenly snapped.

“y-your fingers. they looked g-good.” you whined when you finally felt him dip his hand in your underwear.

he started off slowly by rubbing your wet folds, the sound of stickiness and wetness filling the air. you moaned in pleasure and tried to grind, but that earned a slap on the thigh from jay.

“you like my fingers? like it when they’re deep in your pussy?” he rasped out. you cried out when he circled your bud making you arch your back. he lifted you up swiftly and set you on the desk.

“seongie please! i want your fingers.” you moaned. jay smirk never faltered even when he shoved his fingers in you without warning.

you let out a silent moan feeling his thick long fingers stuffed in your pussy. you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“oh fuck! m’there!” you gasped. jay pace was deep and slow causing you to shiver in pleasure. your legs shaking beside his waist.

“such a slut for me. you’re lucky it’s soundproof.” jay commented. you nodded your head dumbly and tried grinding on his fingers. he stopped your movement making you groan.

“you’re not gonna cum until i tell you too. understand?” he said. you shook your head in disagreement.

“seongie no-“ “then you’re not cumming at all.”

you whined and sniffled, feeling his fingers still stuffed inside you. you nodded your head, “fine okay!”

he smiled and started moving his fingers again but this time faster. you gasped and cried when he angled his fingers deeper, “oh my god jay!” you screamed.

you felt your climax coming and repeatedly tapped his shoulder. he ignored you and continued to abuse your pussy. you felt your body shake as tears fell down your face. jay kissed your tears away and wrapped his free hand around your neck, slightly squeezing.

“remember what i said.” he spoke. you whimpered and nodded. your climax so close and yet so far. jay groaned when he felt your pussy squeeze around his fingers. fuck, he wanted to fuck you so bad.

“j-jay please. i’ve been good.” you sighed. jay stared at you for a few minutes before humming.

“go ahead.” was all he said before you finally came. your orgasm coming hard. you let out a shaky moan when he slowly pulled out.

you panted harshly, your back laying against the cold wall. you gasped when you watched jay out his fingers in his mouth, licking all your cum. he winked at you teasingly and kissed you. you let out a sigh feeling your slick in your mouth.

he broke the kiss and softly kissed your forehead, “we have to go now before i cum in my pants.” he said. you giggled and stood up. you felt your cum in your underwear and pouted.

“you should’ve taken my underwear off.” you complained.

jay grabbed your hand, “don’t worry. i’ll clean you up when we get home with other things.” he smiled before sticking out his tongue causing you to gasp and slap his chest. the only thing you got back was his beautiful laugh.

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cakelitter · 3 months ago

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Heart to Heart

re2! Leon x Fem! Reader

Warnings: p in v, oral (m and f recieve), somnophilia, bondage, some fluff, established relationship

Summary: police officer Leon and reader

Words: 906

a/n: a little something I wrote instead of going to bed, is Leon as horny as a 16 year old in this one? yeah... um anw hope you enjoy!

Your boyfriend is needy.

Coming back home after a long day at the police station, dick visibly hard, because you decided to tease him with a picture of your tits. Unlocking the door and making a beeline straight towards you, fucking you so desperately next to the kitchen sink; where you once were doing the dishes before he interrupted.

Your boyfriend is sensitive.

Tears brimming in his eyes and glossy lips from constantly running his tongue over them when you give him head. Whining and groaning at the sensation of your hot mouth and warm tongue, lapping over the sensitive head of his cock. Precum and saliva dripping all over the floor, as his heads lulls back and forth in pleasure.

He doesn’t last much when you go down on him. Your mouth is too good, his words not yours. He’s honestly adorable when he’s all fucked out like this. Whispering words of affection and pouring all his love into you cause he can’t think straight. Then spilling his load into and all over your mouth, cumming so hard his hands start to shake.

Your boyfriend is needy.

Waking you up in the middle of the night to him rutting himself between your thighs when you’re fast asleep. How inconsiderate, but you love him so you’ll let it slide. Plus, he always apologizes when he does wake you up.

“I’m sorry baby, you looked too good sleeping in my shirt.” His breathy voice would say.

Either way, you were more than willing to help him out. The poor guy has been working so hard lately, he surely deserves to let off some steam, even if he’s waking you up at four in the morning.

Your boyfriend is forgiving.

Immediately forgetting that he was mad at you, when you decide to wear his favorite lingerie set and proceed to walk around the house with it on. Favorite because you told him that you bought it since it reminded you of his eyes. That must’ve ignited something within him, pounding you mercilessly into the mattress. Neighbors got no sleep that night.

Your boyfriend is affectionate.

Making out with your pussy like he’s getting paid to, like it’s the thing he was born to do. Pulling up the hood of your clit before lapping and sucking at it. He would spend a lifetime down there if you wouldn’t pull him away from overstimulation.

Somedays he doesn’t even want to fuck; instead, he just spreads you out on the bed, nuzzled up against your cunt till the point where you question if he can even breath properly, and uses one of his hands to jerk himself off.

Your boyfriend is appreciative.

Drinking up every last drop of arousal that leaks out of you. Enjoying the melodies that you sing for him when you cum on his dick, face, fingers, whatever it may be, savoring the look on your face, blissed out and satisfied.

Admiring his masterpiece when your mixed fluids start dripping out of your pussy. Cock twitching and becoming hard just from the sight.

Your boyfriend is a good cop.

Binding you to the bed with his cuffs and doing whatever he pleases with you. Teaching you “self-defense” while play fighting which is just him basically finding an excuse to pin you down and you guessed it, fuck you both stupid.

He has been late to work a few times because you apparently made the mistake of “cuddling too close” to him in the morning and now he’s hard. Rushing over to work with visible hickeys on his neck, messy hair, and like he just ran a marathon.

Your boyfriend is touchy.

Grabbing your waist and pulling you closer when kissing. Removing the hair out of your face while laying down in bed, asking to touch your tits cause “they deserve to be loved” and pinching you stiff peaks, watching your expressions as he does so.

Slapping your ass any chance he got. Bending down to load the washing machine? Slap. Getting out of bed? Slap. Getting all dolled up and looking pretty for a date? Slap. Making breakfast and half asleep? Slap.

Truly cannot catch a break when he’s around.

Your boyfriend is a great listener.

Running over to the bathroom whenever he hears the sound of the shower being turned on. Walking in uninvited and joining like it’s some bonding experience. Shamelessly watching the warm water run from your shoulders to your stomach and down your thighs. Gawking at your plum lips, soap-covered breasts, and taking in the scent of your shampoo.

Your boyfriend is sweet.

Whispering sweet nothings in your ear as the two of you bask in the afterglow of your release. His fingers caressing your sides as you lay next to each other, chest to chest, heart to heart.

Cleaning up the mess you both made off of you, and changing the sheets so you get optimal rest.

Your boyfriend is loving.

Kissing all over your body and face when you struggle to love yourself on certain days. Offering to take you out to your favorite place to eat when your job has been nothing but a pain in your ass.

Making you smile over how stupid his jokes are when your sad and upset. Being your number one supporter when self-doubt gets the best of you, reciting a corny ass quote to prove his point.

Your boyfriend, your boyfriend, your boyfriend, always yours.

divider by: @/kiyaedits

#cakelitter #leon #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #leon x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy smut #me with leon #resident evil 2 #resident evil 2 remake #re2 remake #leon s kennedy #biohazard #re2r

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em-ontv · 1 month ago

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Sing a song for me. (1/2)

Pairing: Soldier Boy x supe!fem!reader

Warnings: angst, violence/death/murder/gore, manipulation (vought), emotional distress, psychological torture/trauma, imprisonment (vought), mentions of drugs, mentions of illnesses, cursing/language

Anon: I have an idea for a FMC who's a supe but her powers are "sirens song" her powers basically can control someone but in a different way depending on what melody she sings... she works at a hospital and helps people... Vought finds out about her and they take her... The boys hear about her after they get soldier boy out and they use him to help get her by him using his powers...

A/n: Hello, anon! Thank you for this request, this idea is just amazing, I love it! I shortened your request a little so it fits here :). I decided to split this into two parts because I've just been really busy, sorry! Everything written here is credited to you, anon! I'm just here to execute your ideas. Hope you like this <3

Read part 2 here

Word count: 3k

"Please," the young woman in the hospital bed whispered, her voice weak while her hands trembled over the thin sheet.

She winced at the pain that was slowly eating away at her. You could see it, not just on her face but in the way her body shivered against the inevitable coldness of death.

"Just make it stop... just for a bit." she swallowed thickly, reaching a hand out to you, and you held it for support.

You'd seen this before, so many times, too many times, working at Mercy Hospital. "I'll sing for you," you said, your voice gentle.

As you pulled the chair closer to her bedside, you began to hum, a soft melody that seemed to drift through the air, mixing with the beeping heart monitor.

Her body began to relax, the lines of pain on her face softening as the sound soothed her, a sense of warmness filling her. Her breathing slowed. The tears stopped. For a moment, in this broken world, she was at peace.

That was the way you had always used your powers. For peace. For comfort. The songs you sang were as natural to you as breathing, and their effects.

It was just a gift you had, something you could use to help the people in pain, to soothe those who were suffering—whether it be the children crying in the hospital beds alone at night or the elderly who were hooked onto the machines to live—the ones who had no one left. You sang to take away their pain, to bring peace in places the world forgot about.

The patients who were pale from nausea, you soothed them. The patients who were out-of-control in the ER, you calmed them. The patients whose time was running out, you eased their pain one last time before they passed away. It was all because of your voice.

But you never went beyond what was asked of you. Never used your powers on people who didn't ask you to. Never crossed that line.

You never sought out power. You had never intended to control.

And for a long time, you didn't know you could.

But Vought? They saw the potential in you long before you did.

The day that everything went wrong, you were working a night shift at the hospital. You remember it so vividly—the soft click of shoes in the empty hallways that you had mistaken for visitors.

You had just finished a soft hum to a child who was barely nine years old, singing away the nauseousness that came from his treatments when they came for you. Vought.

It all happened so fast. In a flash, a hand was clasped around your mouth and you were being dragged away. The kid cried for the doctors, cried for them to let go of you. But no, Vought wanted you.

You fought, of course. The Compound V that flowed through your veins not only gave you the power of your voice, but strength. It made you a challenge, but the tranquilizer they shot into your neck was made for supes.

A sharp pain pierced through your body, and you didn't stand a chance.

Your eyes flickered softly, the world dimmed into darkness, the last thing you saw was the nurses and doctors collapsed on the hospital floor.

And when you woke up, you were in a cage.

You were in a cage.

It was glass, or something that looked like it—thick and unbreakable. The cold room they kept you in was lined with monitoring equipments. They put a collar on you, some high-tech piece that clamped around your throat like a vice. It was set to explode if you so much as hummed a note. They made sure of that.

The first time you tried to test its limits by so much as opening your mouth, a sharp, electrical shock shot through your neck, leaving you clawing at your throat in pain.

You didn't know how long it was since you'd been here. Maybe weeks, maybe months. You tried to fight it at first, refusing to use your powers, refusing to sing for them. But it didn't take long before they forced your hand. Vought had ways of making people cooperate, and you were no different.

At first, they made you calm people, to help them sleep. It was awful but it wasn't that bad, you could handle it. People weren't getting hurt. You weren't hurting anyone.

But that was before tonight.

The door to your cell hissed open, and the guards came in and grabbed you, dragging you and shoving you down the hallway. The collar stung as it bit into your neck, but you learned to ignore the pain. It was nothing compared to what was waiting on the other side of that door.

They led you into another room, a see-through glass room that they pushed you into and locked the doors after taking off your collar.

On the other side, strapped to a chair, was a man. His skin was sickly and pale, eyes wide and wild as he struggled against his restraints. His face was covered in bruises, and his breathing was shallow—wheezing, desperate. You could see the tracks on his arms, the broken veins. He was a junkie, barely hanging on to life as it was.

You rubbed a hand over your throat. "What is this?" you asked, your voice coming out hoarse, the collar had been on for so long it was a wonder you could even speak.

"A convicted criminal," a voice said. You turned your head to see the man standing outside the glass cell. You'd seen him before—Dr. Connors. Always calm, always observing you like you were some test subject, it made your skin crawl. "A drug dealer, murderer that we pulled out of one of the city's free clinics. He won't be missed," he said.

"Why... why is he here?"

"We need to know just how far your abilities can go."

You felt your stomach twist. No. They couldn't be asking what you thought they were. You'd done everything they asked—calmed their people, helped them with their fucked-up little experiments—but this? This was different. This was wrong.

"I won't do it," you whispered, shaking your head. "I don't hurt people. I'm not a killer."

"You misunderstood." Connors said. "You don't have a choice."

He saw the way your skin turned paler, and he took a step closer to the glass. "Isn't this what you do? To ease pain? You're gonna help him pass on, won't you?" His voice was gentle, almost soothing, but it made you feel sick.

"His time isn't up." your jaw tensed, your voice lingered with a hint of bitterness. A combination of fear and anger twisting in your gut. "I said I'm not a killer," you spat.

He raised an eyebrow. "You've been killing since the moment you started working for us. You just haven't been paying attention."

Connors gestured toward the other side of the glass, where the man—this junkie, this criminal—was staring at you, his chest heaving, eyes wide with fear. You could hear his coughs, see the sweat that rolled off of his forehead.

He didn't deserve this.

Maybe he was a murderer. Maybe he had hurt people, maybe he deserved to rot in prison, but no one deserved this. Not to be a lab rat for Vought. Not to be killed by a song. His fate shouldn't rest upon your hands.

Your mind raced, your heart hammered in your chest, and for a few moments, everything was silent. Connors was watching, his eyes turning cold, searching your face for any signs of rebellion. He'd kill you if you refused. And if you didn't die, they'd make sure you wished you had.

You were powerful, yes. But you weren't irreplaceable.

You didn't know what to do, staring at the junkie. All you knew was that there was no way out. Not without paying a price.

Connors stepped back, watching you through the glass. "Sing."

You met the junkie's eyes. He was gasping for air now, but he couldn't scream—his throat was too weak, but you could feel how scared he was. He was pleading for his life, even without saying a word.

Tears burned in your eyes as you felt your chest tighten, the melody coming out of your mouth before you could stop it.

The song was shaky, and it wasn't gentle. It wasn't the usual soft tune that you had sung a hundred times to sick patients, back when you worked at the hospital. It was a song of discord.

The melody wrapped itself around the junkie in the chair, and you saw him starting to thrash against his restraints, his eyes bloodshot and wide as he struggled like a feral animal.

Tears rolled down your eyes when you closed them, scared to get another look at him. The melody only grew stronger, and then…

Then... you heard blood splattering and you felt something on your face.

You reached a hand to your face, your fingers gently brushing against your skin.

And when you opened your eyes again, the first thing you saw was the bloodied chunks of human flesh on your fingers.

Then... him.

The chair where the junkie used to sit was now only a pile of blood. The transparent glass cage was covered in red. Red.

You stumbled backward, choking on a sob, your hands shaking, the song dying on your lips. The realization crashed into you, a wave of nausea coming up your throat.

The guards didn't move. Connors didn't even blink. They were used to this. You weren't.

"Excellent work." Connors said gently.

You felt the remaining of your strength give out. You slumped against the glass wall and your body slowly slid to the ground, your legs no longer able to hold you up. Your eyes never left the bloodied chair as tears streamed down your face, your body trembling with shock and disgust, disgust at yourself. You wanted to scream. To run. But there was nowhere to go.

It was the same routine after that.

When Vought needed you, they'd take you out of your cage, remove the collar, and force you to use your powers. When they were done, they'd push you back into your cell and clamp the collar around your throat again.

You didn't know you could control multiple people at once with your voice. You didn't even know you could kill with your voice. Not until they forced you to use it and then you started to see how deadly your songs were.

You were exhausted. Not just physically, but deep down in your bones, in a way that sleep couldn’t fix. Vought used you again and again, like some soulless machine they could turn on and off whenever they wanted. Every time you sang, you lost a little piece of yourself.

Each forced melody drained you until you started to forget who you used to be, the life you used to have, the people that you used to help. Your voice, once you considered a gift, was now seen as a curse to you.

Of course, at first, you fought it. You pushed back again and again, told yourself you’d find a way out. But the more they used you, the harder it got to hold onto that resistance.

You started to go numb, the fight in you slowly dying, your heart shutting down just to survive. Eventually, you stopped hoping for an escape, stopped believing that anyone would come. You were theirs, trapped in a cycle you didn’t have the strength to break.

The worst part? You barely even cared anymore.

So when they took you onto your first mission, you didn't resist, you did everything they asked, you sang to their enemies—their eyes would glaze over, bodies slumping forward, as if someone had cut their strings, or just be blown into bits with a single note. Either way, they just dropped. Dead in a matter of seconds.

It was too easy. Too much power. And Vought loved it.

But they didn't let you forget what you were. A prisoner. A tool.

Until... until they came for you.

Or more specifically... he came for you.

"This place looks like a fortress," Hughie muttered, adjusting the comm in his ear as the team prepared to break into the Vought facility.

"Quit whinin', mate. We've got our secret weapon right here," Butcher said with that shit-eating grin of his, patting Soldier Boy's shoulder.

Soldier Boy barely acknowledged the gesture, impatience in his eyes, as if one more pat would drive him to rip Butcher's hand off.

Hughie glanced at Butcher. "You sure this is gonna work? I mean, if she's as dangerous as Vought says..."

Butcher smirked. "That's exactly why we need her."

They moved in, navigating through tight security and avoiding patrols as they made their way deeper into the facility. The plan was simple: get in, grab you, get out. But nothing ever went according to plan, and the alarms blared before they even reached your cell.

Soldier Boy tore through guards like they were nothing, his shield crashing against skulls and bodies with brutal efficiency. The others followed in his wake, covering him as he cleared the path, leaving a trail of blood and broken bones, disoriented bodies scattered everywhere.

You'd heard and seen it all. The way the guards that were supposed to be at the door of your cage moved with urgency in their steps, the crackle of their radios.

Explosions. Gunfire. Shouts of panic echoing down the halls.

And then... silence.

You weren't sure if this was a rescue or just another nightmare, but something inside you stirred—hope. Hope that you hadn't felt for a long time.

You sat up, your body stiff and aching as you made your way to the transparent wall, pressing your hand against the cool glass of your cell, waiting.

The silence was shattered by the sound of crashing metal, followed by a loud boom.

You jumped, heart pounding, as the door to the hallway outside your cell exploded inward, smoke and debris clouding the air.

Through the haze, you saw him—Soldier Boy, covered in dirt and blood.

The last of the guards who crossed his path were obliterated, bodies flung aside like they were nothing with sickening cracks of bones. The bullets bounced off of Soldier Boy's shield like they were toy pellets. His eyes were filled with aggression, the adrenaline flowing through his body.

But then... he saw you.

In the chaos, his gaze locked onto your cell—onto you. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. You, standing there in your glass prison, looking so defeated, so... broken.

Your clothes were stained, your skin marked with bruises, your eyes hollow and empty with a lingering sense of hope.

And when Ben saw you like that—it made something inside him crack.

He had seen plenty of fucked-up things in his long life. He'd caused a lot of them. But this? This was different. The anger that fueled him this whole time suddenly turned into something else.

He walked slowly toward the glass, but there was something softer in his eyes now. Something he hadn't shown anyone in decades.

The furrow of his eyebrows slowly disappeared. He reached out, pressing a hand to the glass between you. His palm rested flat against it, fingers splayed out like he was trying to touch you through the barrier.

He just stood there, looking at you like he wasn't sure what to do.

You lifted your hand, trembling, and pressed it against the glass where his hand rested. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt something. Connection. A shared moment between two people who both had been hurt, used, controlled by the same people.

For a second, neither of you moved. You just... stared at each other, your hands separated by that glass wall, but it felt like the most intimate moment you had shared with anyone in years.

Then, without a word, Ben stepped back and raised his fist.

And it was as if you understood him, you stepped back too.

With a hard swing, he slammed his fist into the glass, shattering it with a deafening crash. The pieces rained down around you like shards of ice, but he didn't care.

He reached in, pulling you closer by the hand he rested on your waist, his touch firm but careful, as if he was afraid you might break under his strength.

"Come on," he said, his voice more gentle than he intended it to be. "We're getting you out of here."

You shook your head gently as your fingers reached at the collar, and that was when he noticed the collar around your throat, humming with electricity, ready to punish you the moment you step foot out of this facility.

Ben frowned softly at the device, his fingers wrapped around the tech.

Butcher stepped up closer, glancing at him. "Think you can get that thing off her without blowing her head off?"

He just grunted softly in response, working to disable the explosive.

"Hold still," he muttered.

After a few tense moments, the collar clicked open, falling to the ground with a dull thud.

You inhaled sharply, your first breath of freedom in what felt like forever.

But Ben didn’t move back. He stayed close, eyes never leaving yours. "You can talk now," he said softly, his voice low.

You swallowed hard, your throat aching, but still, you hesitated. "Why… why are you here?"

"We came here to rescue you, love," Butcher replied, stepping into your line of sight. His grin was sharp. "And as much as I would like to keep talking, we should probably get out of here…"

349 notes · View notes

xhoess · 3 months ago

Text

Unscripted connections

Hugh jackman x fem bod reader

Masterlist word count: 8k

Summary: a 26-year-old assistant director who unexpectedly falls for her 55-year-old coworker, Hugh Jackman, while working together on a film.

Warnings: unprotected PiV, age gap, rough, angryy at Hugh (reader) , NFSW, fluff, smut

The morning sun streamed through the sprawling studio windows, casting an ethereal glow across the film set. Everything was bustling with energy—grips hustled about with equipment, makeup artists whispered among themselves, and the smell of fresh coffee wafted in from the nearby break room. You barely had a moment to catch your breath as an assistant director before you were called to the front of the set. Today was your first day, and the stakes felt incredibly high.

As you adjusted your clipboard and steeled yourself for the whirlwind of action and expectation, you felt a flutter of nervous energy in your chest. You had landed a position on a new project starring Hugh Jackman—the Hugh Jackman. Thinking about his name alone stirred something deep inside you, a strange mix of admiration and apprehension. Would he live up to everything you had imagined?

The crew parted like a wave, and you finally caught your first glimpse of the man himself. He stood near the director, exuding an effortless charisma that seemed to extend to everyone around him. Hugh was dressed comfortably in a fitted gray T-shirt and dark jeans, but there was nothing ordinary about him. It was as if he stood in a spotlight no one else could see.

As you walked closer, your breath caught in your throat. You watched him chat amicably with the cinematographer, his laughter warm and contagious. It felt surreal to be in the same space as someone who had captured the hearts of millions. Yet despite the distance in your professional status, there was an inexplicable pull that made your heart race.

“Hugh!” the director called, and the actor turned, a friendly smile brightening his face. At that moment, it felt like time slowed down. You were unprepared for his gaze to flicker in your direction, piercing and yet inviting. When he met your eyes, the world around you faded into a hush, making way for an electric connection that made your cheeks flush.

“Ah, you must be the new assistant director! I’m Hugh,” he said, extending a hand toward you. His voice was deep and melodious, sending thrilling shivers down your spine.

“Oh, hi! I’m y/n,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure. As you shook his hand, his grip was warm and firm, sending a jolt of energy through you. You fought the impulse to linger—after all, you were here to work, not to swoon.

“Excited to have you on board. We aim to make something special with this film, and I can already tell you’ll be a vital part of that,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling with sincerity. You felt a flutter again, but you mentally reprimanded yourself. You were nearly two decades his junior; thoughts of a romance were simply absurd.

“Thank you, I really appreciate that,” you managed to say, forcing yourself to focus. You knew he was just being kind and welcoming; it was part of his charm. As the morning unfolded, you couldn’t help but admire him from a distance while still maintaining your professionalism. Hugh was incredibly talented but also down-to-earth, taking the time to share stories, crack jokes, and encourage those around him.

Hours ticked by as you coordinated with the team and ensured everything ran smoothly. But your thoughts often drifted back to Hugh, witnessing the way he lit up the atmosphere, turning mundane moments into something lively and unforgettable. He would tease the crew playfully, sharing little anecdotes from his career, and each smile elicited an involuntary warmth that settled pleasantly in your chest.

As lunch approached, you found yourself in line at the food truck that had pulled in for the crew. You absently listened to the chatter around you, stealing a glance now and then at Hugh, who was seated at a nearby table chatting animatedly with a few crew members. You couldn’t help but observe the effortless charm he possessed.

Then, to your shock, he caught your gaze again. His expression softened, and he motioned for you to join him. Your heart raced wildly. Was he actually inviting you over? Wasn't it too soon for such familiarity? For a moment, you debated whether this was all a figment of your imagination.

“Hey, y/n! Come join us!” he called, flashing that dazzling smile of his. You hesitated, your nerves battling with an exhilarating thrill, before gathering enough courage to approach.

“Of course, if that’s not too weird,” you said, attempting to keep your tone light.

“Not weird at all! We were just talking about how crucial the next scene is going to be. Would love to hear your thoughts,” he replied, and the crew members nodded in agreement.

As you settled into the conversation, you felt the chemistry between you and Hugh grow stronger. His genuine interest in your ideas made you feel surprisingly comfortable. You talked about your experiences, and to your astonishment, he listened intently, occasionally adding in playful banter that made you laugh—deep, unguarded laughter that made the anxiety of your first day fade away.

But beneath the warmth of the interaction, you couldn’t shake the truth of your situation. The age gap loomed like a shadow, a reminder that this was a professional endeavor. You had come here to prove yourself, not to entertain fantastical notions of romance. Still, there was no denying the magnetic pull you felt each time he came closer—a brush of shoulders or a fleeting glance that sent electric ripples through your resolve.

As lunch drew to a close and the conversations began to dwindle, you made your way back to your responsibilities, acutely aware of Hugh’s gaze lingering on you. You were determined to keep boundaries, to channel your feelings into your work, but you also couldn’t help wishing that just once, the universe might surprise you.

The film set buzzed with energy after lunch, a chaos of lights, camera equipment, and the chatter of crew members darting about like busy bees. It was your first major production, and as a production assistant, every moment felt electric—an intoxicating blend of pressure and excitement. Each day, you learned something new, gliding through a whirlwind of tasks, from fetching props to helping set up scenes. But nothing matched the thrill of working alongside Hugh, the film's esteemed director.

Hugh was everything you had imagined he would be—a captivating blend of charm and intensity. With his silver-streaked hair and brown eyes, he commanded a room in a way that made your heart race. But it was more than his looks; it was the passion with which he approached his craft, treating each scene as if it were a delicate work of art. As the weeks rolled on, you found yourselves working closely together, often staying long after everyone else had gone home to perfect each detail of the script.

It had been a long day, with filming pushing well into the night. The set lay semi-dark, dimly lit by the glow of a few overhead lights and an errant lamp in the corner. The atmosphere was quiet except for the soft sounds of pages turning and the occasional clunk of a chair. The crew had wrapped up, leaving just you and Hugh in the hushed sanctuary of the set, an empty universe of creativity waiting to echo your voices.

You glanced at the clock; it was nearly midnight. With a yawn, you stretched your arms overhead, the weariness settling in your bones. "How many more takes do you think this scene will need?" you asked, trying to shake the fatigue from your thoughts.

Hugh leaned back in his chair, a pensive expression crossing his face. “As many as it takes to find the truth of the moment,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smile. “Might take a while, though.”

Despite your tiredness, you couldn’t help but chuckle at his dedication. “As long as you don’t break into a dramatic monologue about the artistry of film again, I think I can endure.”

His laughter echoed softly against the soundstage walls, a warm, rich sound that made your insides flutter. “Do you have a problem with dramatic monologues?” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Dramatic, no. Long, yes,” you replied playfully, but in that moment, you both knew that there was more to it than just playful banter.

As the last creased page of the script turned in his hands, he paused, a flicker of contemplation crossing his features. “What about you, y/n? You’ll surely have your own dramatic story to tell one day.”

“Me?” you said, suddenly feeling as if you were the subject of a scene rather than a participant. “I’m just here to help out, learn the ropes. No dramatic monologues in my future.”

He leaned in, his expression earnest. “Everyone has a story, y/n. Even if you don’t see it yet, yours is unfolding right now.”

You swallowed hard, aware of the weight of his words. Was he implying that there was a depth to your interactions, a thread connecting you that surpassed the confines of a simple work relationship? The age difference loomed in your mind, a shadow that hovered just out of reach. He was over 2 decades older than you, seasoned and experienced, while you were still finding your footing.

“What’s it like?” you asked unexpectedly, your curiosity cutting through your hesitation. “To be so… experienced. To have lived so much. Do you ever wish you could start again?”

He seemed taken aback by your question, his gaze drifting over to the surrounding set, shadows playing tricks in the low light. “Sometimes. But not because I regret my choices. Rather, because I sometimes wonder what I might have missed. There’s a beauty in innocence, in exploring new challenges without the weight of expectations.”

You nodded, feeling an inexplicable connection yet not knowing how to breach the distance created by circumstance and years. Yet, as the night wore on, you felt a current passing between you, a spark igniting in the shared vulnerability of the moment.

“Do you think our paths would have crossed differently if we were the same age?” you mused, testing the waters of his perception.

Hugh studied you, a subtle smile playing on his lips. “Possibly. But time doesn’t rewrite the past, y/n. What’s important is what we choose to do with the present.”

The air hung thick between you, humming with unspoken thoughts and feelings. You caught yourself stealing glances at him, captivated by the warmth of his presence. There was a comfort in his vulnerability, a safety you didn’t expect to find in someone who had long stepped into the limelight.

Just then, something clicked in your heart. Maybe this was more than just a crush; perhaps it was as he said, stories unfolding in unexpected ways. But even as warmth blossomed within you, a small voice of reason nagged at the edge of your mind, reminding you to stay focused, to keep your ambitions clear of distractions.

“Enough about me,” you finally said, breaking the silence. “What about the next scene? We should get back to it before the inspiration fizzles away.”

He chuckled, the earlier tension easing a bit. “You’re right. We should get to work.”

And so, you both returned to the script, but now a different current pulsed between your shared moments. Each line you rehearsed now felt laced with an understanding that was beyond the surface.

As the hours slipped by, the bond you shared deepened, masked under the guise of professional friendship. Yet, it lingered in the way his fingers brushed against yours when he handed you the script, the flush on your cheeks when his gaze met yours for just a heartbeat longer than necessary.

As you wrapped up for the night, you caught his eye, and for just a moment, everything else faded—the studio, the crew, the obligations of work. In that shared silence, there was an acknowledgment of something not yet spoken—a connection waiting to be embraced but tempered by the fear of crossing uncharted boundaries.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Hugh,” you said, the words barely escaping your lips.

“Looking forward to it, y/n,” he replied softly, and with that, you parted ways into the stillness of the night.

**a few weeks later**

The bustling sound of the film set was an orchestra of excitement and anxiety. Lights flickered overhead, casting a warm glow over the crew as they moved like clockwork, each with a distinct role in bringing the project to life. You stood at the edge of the set, clipboard in hand, every detail carefully noted, and yet your mind was elsewhere—absorbed by the presence of Hugh.

He had the effortless charm of a seasoned performer, one who knew precisely how to command a room. But today, there was an added layer of tension between you, an unshakable current that neither of you dared to address openly.

As the director called “Action!” you watched Hugh transform into his character, a tragic hero torn by past mistakes. His performance was raw and authentic, and yet, in your peripheral vision, you noticed him glancing at you periodically, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. There was an energy there—an electric charge that made it impossible to concentrate on your duties.

After a particularly intense scene, Hugh broke character, brushing back his tousled hair, his forehead glistening with a light sheen of sweat. He turned towards you, his expression unreadable but intense, as if he was waiting for something, and you felt the weight of his gaze. You shifted your attention back to the script, absently making notes about timing and camera angles, while the ache in your chest grew heavier.

“Y/N,” he called out, his voice threaded with both curiosity and challenge, breaking through the noise of the crew packing up. You looked up, caught between the professional facade you maintained and the emotions that surged whenever he was near.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, feigning nonchalance but feeling the tension coil within you, a tight spring ready to snap.

“You’re holding back,” he said, his blue eyes piercing through any defenses you, consciously or unconsciously, had erected. “With the vision for the scenes. I can see it. There’s more you want to explore—less of the safe stuff and more of…well, what scares you.”

His demand hung in the air between you like a challenging dare. The intimacy of his observation stirred something deep inside, forcing you to confront feelings you’d carefully guarded. “And how would you know what scares me?” you shot back, apprehensive, but interested.

Hugh stepped closer, the distance closing rapidly, and dropped his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Because I see it in your eyes when you're in a moment of inspiration. And I know what it feels like to refrain from stepping fully into the abyss. Trust me, Y/N, you're not the only one afraid of what’s on the other side.”

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, his vulnerability shining through just as brightly as his confidence. “We’re a team here. We both want this project to succeed. But if we dance around the hard truths, we risk losing not just this film, but maybe… something more.”

His admission hung heavily in the air, a precarious bridge spanning the uncharted waters of your feelings. You had been acutely aware of the sparks between you, but the thought of acting on them scared you. There was an age gap—a divide that felt insurmountable, complicated by the realities of fame and perception. You opened your mouth to speak, hesitating as you sought the right words to express your inner turmoil.

“I—I am scared, Hugh.I’m scared of what it would mean if we crossed this line,” you finally managed to say. “You’re not just an actor to me; you’re…You’re Hugh jackman. There’s so much more on the line.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, the world around you faded away. “Whatever happens, we can face it together,” he promised earnestly, hands connecting with yours, a reassurance sparking at the junction where your palms met. “What we feel—it’s undeniable. Let’s not pretend it doesn’t exist. Let’s explore this together.”

A myriad of emotions tangled within you: fear, hope, yearning. You had spent so long pushing away thoughts of him, labeling them as distractions, but they were more than that. They were a profound connection—a bond deepening with every shared glance, every hidden smile.

The crew was gathering their things. People began to shuffle around you, but together, you and Hugh remained anchored in your own unspoken world. Finally, you inhaled sharply, a resolution forming. “Okay. Let’s take that plunge. But you have to promise to be honest with me, and yourself—whatever this is, we have to confront it head-on.”

“Deal,” he agreed, determination painted on his features. “Just give me your all, Y/N. Push the boundaries of what you create. I want to see the real you—the one who isn’t afraid.”

As the sunlight began to dip beyond the horizon, your heart raced with the promise of inevitable change. You could feel it now: a dawning awareness of what could be. You had both stepped onto a path that was irreversible, like characters in a story that was swiftly unraveling around you, plot twists waiting to take shape.

You shared a glance, the weight of unspoken words passing silently between you, solidifying a new understanding. With the tension hanging thick in the air, it felt as if the universe had conspired to bring you to this moment.

The neon lights flickered dimly in the corner, reflecting the excitement of a film wrap party, the film was almost done, there were only a few scenes left to to.

It quickly transformed into a sea of emotion and uncertainty. Laughter echoed against the laughter but what lingered beneath the surface was something more charged and electric. You could feel it in the air, a breathless anticipation that swirled around you like the flicking trails of the sparklers that lit up the evening sky.

As the director raised his glass, you stole a glance at Hugh. He stood there, impeccably handsome in his tailored suit, leaning back against a marble pillar with a charming smile that made your heart race. The playful glimmer in his eyes lit up the starkness of his chiseled features, and for months now, he had been your anchor in a tumultuous sea of film production. The chemistry between you two had been palpable; unspoken promises lingered like a fine mist, blurred around the edges, but tonight was different. The air felt charged, heavy with the unvoiced tension that had been building.

With each drink, the barriers separating you from Hugh began to erode. Your senses dulled just enough to embolden you. “C’mon, let's celebrate!” one of your co-workers had cheered, passing you another glass of champagne. It fizzed and popped against the crystal, much like the competing thoughts that popped up in your mind.

Hugh caught your eye and smiled, that sincere, slightly crooked grin that always made you feel giddy. Far away from the prying eyes of producers and cast members, the room felt intimate despite its size. You could only hope no one noticed the way the two of you gravitated towards each other like lost ships drawn into the same harbor.

When the mingling subdues to wavering small talk, you find yourself making your way toward him, a determination fueling your steps. “What are we waiting for?” you dared to challenge the uncertainty.

He tilted his head, those warm brown eyes glimmering with intrigue. “A better offer?” he countered playfully, eyebrows raised.

You laughed, feeling the heat of the moment wrap around you like the warm evening air. “Or maybe just… courage?”

In the following moments, laughter became murmurs as people began to drift away, winding down their joy. With the crew’s excitement ebbing like the tide, you made a decision.

“Hugh, do you want to get out of here? Just for a bit?” Your voice trembled slightly, but you masked it with a steady smile.

His eyes lit up, a mixture of surprise and curiosity. “Sure, I know just the place.”

You found yourself following him into the night. The moon hung high above you, casting a silver glow on the streets as you walked side by side, your fingers brushing against one another, eliciting a jolt of electricity that sent your heart racing.

Minutes later, you were at his house—a cozy, modern space lined with art that told stories of a life lived passionately. As he turned on the lights, his gaze caught yours, and something shifted. The weight of the moment enveloped you, filled with possibilities that had once felt too dangerous to fathom.

“Want to see something?” He asked with a conspiratorial grin as he led you toward his living room, where an impressive collection of movie memorabilia and personal artifacts lived. As he gestured towards a prop from one of his earlier films—a whimsical piece you recognized immediately—you felt the easy banter fade, replaced with an unsteady silence that thrummed with unsaid words.

You gazed around the room—so many things lived here, memories caught between the layers of paint and warmth. The air grew waning with every heartbeat, and you realized this was it; the line had finally blurred.

“Do you remember the scene in the film where the characters finally confess their feelings?” you said, your voice quieter than expected.

His gaze locked onto you, and he stepped closer, invading your personal space in a way that sent your heart into a frenzy. “Yeah, I remember it well.”

You swallowed hard as a flood of emotions surfaced, memories of stolen glances and lingering smiles mingling with hope and anxiety. “It feels like we keep dancing around the truth all this time.”

He took a shaky breath, inching ever closer. “Maybe it’s time we stopped dancing.”

The words hung in the air, vibrating with the weight of meaning. Before you could fully process the invitation behind them, he closed the distance. Your heart leapt as his lips met yours, tentative at first, but then deepened into a fervent exploration, igniting every nerve ending in your body.

Time ceased to exist in that kiss—everything else faded away. The party, the noise, the cufflinks, and long discussions about film—it all vanished as he held you close. You melted into him, sensing that this moment held not just promise, but a thousand unfulfilled desires waiting to burst forth.

The kiss broke just as suddenly as it had begun, both of you pulling away, breathless. Hugh’s brow was furrowed, his expression a mix of confusion and exhilaration. You felt warmth creep over your cheeks, the thrill of stepping over the thin line you had both walked for so long.

“What… what just happened?” he asked, astonished, yet the surprise in his eyes was underlined with an unmistakable desire.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your heart racing. “But I think we just crossed a line.”

He took a step back, a bewildered smile twisting at the edges of his mouth. “Nothing between us is ever going to be the same again, is it?”

You shook your head. He sighed "well than we need to make the best of it"

"I've wanted you for so long," Hugh whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"I know," you reply, your voice husky with desire. "I've wanted you too."

Hugh's fingers find their way to your breasts, teasing your nipples through the fabric of your dress. You moan with pleasure, your body arching towards him as he continues to explore your body.

"You're so fucking sexy," Hugh growls, his teeth nipping at your earlobe.You gasp with pleasure, your body trembling with desire. You can feel the wetness growing between your legs, your body begging for more.

Hugh's hand travels down your body, his fingers tracing a path towards your wetness. You moan as he slides a finger inside you, your body clenching around him as he begins to explore your most intimate places.

"You're so fucking wet," Hugh murmurs, his fingers moving in and out of you with a maddening slowness.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your body begging for more.

Hugh doesn't need to be asked twice. He pulls your dress up around your waist, his cock springing free as he positions himself at your entrance."Are you sure?" he asks, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hugh thrusts inside you, filling you completely. You moan with pleasure, your body adjusting to his size as he begins to move inside you.

The sex is rough and raw, Hugh's body slamming into yours as he fucks you with a wild abandon. You can feel every inch of him inside you, your bodies moving together in a dance as old as time.

"Yes, yes, yes," you scream, your body trembling with pleasure.

Hugh's thrusts become more urgent, his cock swelling inside you as he reaches his climax. You can feel him cumming inside you, his hot seed filling you up as he collapses on top of you.

As you lay there, on he's couch breathless and spent, you know that nothing will ever be the same between you two again. Falling asleep soon after.

The sun streamed through the sheer curtains and cast a gentle glow across your bedroom. Hugh is already gone. He must have carried you to bed when you fell asleep last night. You lay in bed, tangled in sheets and emotions as the events of the previous night replayed in your mind like a broken record. The soft chirping of birds outside felt mocking, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside you.

Last night's party had started off like any other, filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the vibrant hum of creative energy. But then... Hugh. His laughter ringing in your ears. The warmth of his touch. The way he looked at you, and how everything in that moment faded away until it was just the two of you, worlds colliding in a whirlwind of passion.

You pulled your blanket around you tighter, as if it could shield you from a reality you wished you could forget. What had you done? You felt exhilaration turning sour as doubt crept in like an unwelcome guest. You had been careful to maintain professional boundaries, navigating the murky waters of your career as an assistant director and trying not to be another name associated with Hugh's countless flings. But last night, those lines blurred; you had crossed them willingly, and now it felt like you were teetering on the edge of a cliff with nowhere to land.

What if this jeopardized your career? Your thoughts spiraled into a worry-induced frenzy. Hugh was charming and talented but notoriously fickle. Besides, the industry could be brutal. Would he even want to be involved with you again after this morning? Did he even care? As you wrestled with your insecurities, your phone buzzed incessantly on the nightstand like a swarm of angry bees, reminding you that you had to face the consequences of last night's fleeting moment of weakness.

Getting out of bed felt like running an obstacle course of dread. You dressed meticulously, hiding the tremor in your hands while trying to appear composed. A small part of you hoped that things could return to normal, that a bit of awkwardness in the morning sun could give way to something beautiful on set. But with every passing minute, that hope diminished.

Upon arriving at the set, the scene was already busy with bustling crew members and the enticing aroma of fresh coffee. You made your way to the auxiliary area set up for the production, trying to blend in with the steady stream of people. But as soon as your eyes found Hugh, standing in his director's chair with an intense expression on his face, your stomach dropped.

He was focused on something, oblivious to the world around him. But as your heart quickened at the sight of him, you also noticed how his gaze avoided yours, like he was deliberately steering clear of a riptide he could feel but not see. You forced yourself to breathe, to push past the heat rising in your cheeks, to approach him and acting as if everything was normal. Yet, the closer you got, the more you felt the weight of an invisible wall between you.

“Hey,” you said softly, trying to break the silence, but he turned his gaze elsewhere, focused on the staging crew and the angles they were suggesting. The polite smile he gave you felt strained, and it shattered the little spirit you had managed to muster.

A knot twisted in your stomach as you retreated, retreating to the corner of the set where you huddled with the rest of the crew, avoiding Hugh’s distant presence like it was a storm cloud waiting to unleash its fury. Minutes passed like hours, and every time you caught a glimpse of him, your heart sank deeper.

Hours later, when the director called for a break, you felt tense and apprehensive. It was then that the lead director approached you, a stern look on his face that made your heart race with dread.

“Y/N, can we talk?” His voice was calm, but there was an edge that turned your stomach.

You followed him away from the chatter of the cast and crew, your heart pounding and your mind racing. What was happening? He stopped under a makeshift tent away from prying eyes.

“I’m going to be direct,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ve been made aware of... what happened last night at the party. It’s not the first time I've seen personal relationships spill into the workspace, but it cannot happen here. I have to let you go from your position as an assistant director.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and in that moment, your world crumbled. What had you done? “You’re firing me?” you asked, your voice a whisper, tinged with disbelief. “Because of what happened with Hugh?”

His eyebrows knitted together in a sympathetic frown. “It’s not just about that. It’s about maintaining professionalism on set. You’re talented, and I wish it didn’t come to this, but the integrity of the production must come first.”

“I can fix this! I can—”

“It’s out of my hands, Y/N,” he said, cutting you off. You felt the gravity of his words pulling you down into an endless freefall.

You nodded numbly, choking back tears threatening to spill. It felt as if the earth beneath you had given way, and you hadn’t even thought to grab for the edges. As you walked away, heart heavy and mind racing, the realization that the best part of the party — the part that you’d held onto so tightly — was now the worst thing that could have happened.

Throughout the rest of the day, your phone vibrated with multiple missed calls and texts from Hugh, but you ignored each one, feeling ashamed and hurt. The ache in your chest deepened as the hurt turned into anger. You wanted to respond, to let him know that his silence had condemned you. But you couldn’t bring yourself to deal with him, the very person who had made you feel more alone than you ever had before.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of violet and amber, you took a deep breath, allowing the tears to finally escape. You had loved the thrill of the job, the collaborative spirit, the late-night brainstorming sessions. And now, you were left with nothing but the echo of a distant sun and a heart that felt like it would never mend.

Your phone buzzes incessantly on the coffee table, each vibration echoing through the silence of your apartment like a relentless tick of a clock. You’ve seen Hugh’s name pop up on your screen several times now, each call wearing down your resolve, gnawing at your anger like a persistent thief in the night. Taking a deep breath, you finally decide to pick up.

“Hugh?” Your voice wavers, laced with a mix of frustration and a tinge of betrayal.

“Y/N! You answered! I was beginning to think you’d never pick up,” he exclaims, relief flooding his tone.

“Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we? Just come over so we can talk,” you reply, trying to maintain your calm. After a moment, you say, “Please.” It’s a softening that belies the tempest brewing inside you.

Fifteen minutes later, Hugh’s familiar silhouette appears at your door; a mixture of regret and hope evident on his face. You step aside to let him in, the air between you crackling with tension.

“I’m glad you decided to see me,” he says, taking a seat on the edge of your couch, as though he’s worried he might sink into the weight of the conversation.

Crossing your arms, you lean against the wall. “You know why I’m mad, right?”

“Well, yes…” He looks down, running a hand through his silver-streaked hair, a sign of both his age and the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. “But I thought we’d talk about it—”

“Talk about it?” You interrupt, your voice rising. “You didn’t even try to stop the director from firing me! You just let him do it.”

“I tried. I really did, Y/N. But…” He hesitates, and you can see the weight of that unspoken truth hanging in the air, heavy and suffocating. “You know how he is. I couldn’t risk my own position. Not with the board breathing down my neck.”

Your heart hardens at his words. “So my job meant nothing?”

“That’s not true!” he insists, leaning forward, desperation carving lines into his brow. “You know my feelings for you. I didn’t want to lose you either.”

The room falls into an uncomfortable silence; the clock ticks loudly in the background, echoing your heightened pulse. You think back to how you’d met in the first place: the spark of connection in board meetings, the shared coffee breaks, the way his laughter lit up even the dimmest of corporate landscapes. But then you also remember the power dynamics, the silence of the office when the affair went from whispers to reality. There was still that chilling fact hovering over your heads: the 29-year age gap.

“It feels like I was just some toy to you, Hugh, something you could play with until the director got jealous,” you say, your words sharper than intended.

His expression softens, and suddenly he’s standing, pacing your small living room. “That’s not how I see it. You’re not a toy to me, Y/N. You were… you are everything to me. But this—” he gestures between you, “it’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” you scoff, feeling the sting behind your eyes as frustration morphs into hurt. “I can’t afford complications right now. I was fired because of you, because of us. You think it’s easy for me to handle the fact that I have to start over, all because you couldn’t protect me in front of the director?”

His gaze hardens for a moment before it softens again, sorrow painting his features. “I get that you’re angry—”

“Angry? I’m furious, Hugh! I took a chance on you and us, and this is what I get?”

He takes a deep breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as if he’s preparing for a confession. “What if I told you I didn’t just let you go to save myself? What if… what if I told you that I pushed him hard to keep you?”

You raise an eyebrow, the disbelief palpable in the air. “Why should I believe you? You were right there.”

“I know, and I regret not being more forceful,” he admits. “But there’s something more at play here. Do you really think it was just about our affair? It was politics, Y/N. You’re brilliant, and he knew that. You posed a threat.”

Your heart races at his words, a mix of confusion and bitterness swirling inside you. “So what, I’m a pawn in a game?”

“Not like that,” he says quickly. “I mean it, I never wanted you to be caught in the crossfire. I care about you, more than you can understand. But I also care about keeping our relationship safe, especially if the wrong people find out.”

Safe? You want to laugh, but it dies in your throat. “And this is how you protect me? By throwing me to the wolves?”

Hugh steps closer, his eyes pleading. “Can’t you see? If I stood up to him, I’d have lost everything—my job, my credibility… and ultimately, you. I had to think strategically.”

“Strategically,” you repeat, the word tasting sour on your tongue. “You sound like a politician.”

“You know me better than that!” he exclaims, frustration coloring his words. “I didn’t want to lose you! Can’t you understand that?”

You throw your hands up, the weight of the world above you pressing down harder. “Do you think I came into this thinking we’d end up here? That I’d lose everything working alongside you?”

“I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this.”

“Fix what?” You step back, your breath heavy. “The age difference? The possible backlash? Do you think someone like me could ever really have a future with someone like you?”

His expression drops, the harsh truth hitting him like a wave. “It can work,” he insists, the passion behind his words undeniable.

“It won’t work!” you shout, tears beginning to blur your vision. “ You’re twenty-nine years older than me! The world is against us before we even start. I can’t go back!”

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration but steps closer daring to bridge the gap between you. “You’ve got to trust me, just give me a chance to make things right. I didn’t mean to—”

“Just stop! For once, just stop!” Your voice softens, breaking as you feel the pain boiling to the surface. “I wanted this to work. I really did. But I can't live in this uncertainty anymore.”

He looks lost for a moment, his face a mixture of emotions you can’t quite decipher, but the sincerity behind his gaze makes you falter.

“Life is uncertain,” he says quietly. “But I want to build something with you—even if it’s complicated.”

You stand there, caught in the whirlwind of emotions, wondering if love can really conquer all.

In that moment, you realize it might not be just about you or the age gap. It’s about truth and bearing the weight of consequences you hadn’t wanted to face.

You meet his gaze, the flicker of hope igniting alongside your fears. “look Hugh, this is hard for you too I know that but, I shouldn't have said those things, I am just angry at the moment okay?” you whisper, needing to gather the broken pieces of your heart.

His relief washes over him like sunlight after rain, and for the first time, you see a glimmer of determination mirrored on his face.

“we can do this together okay?” he asks softly.

You nod slowly, not knowing where this path leads to but willing to take the risk.

Hugh leans down and softly lays his hand on the side of your face. He kisses you softly and the anger flows out of you, Hugh is not just a fling.

You kiss him back, your bodies pressed together as you explore each other's mouths. Hugh's hands roam over your body, and you can feel his growing arousal through his pants.

"I want you," he whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"I want you too," you reply, your voice trembling with desire.

Hugh leads you to his bedroom, your bodies still entwined. He lays you down on the bed and starts to undress you, his fingers lingering on your skin as he reveals more and more of your body.

"You're so beautiful," he says, his voice full of admiration.

You reach up and undo the buttons on his shirt, your fingers brushing against his chest. Hugh's skin is warm and smooth, and you can feel his heart beating fast.He removes his shirt and starts to undress you completely, his eyes dark with desire. He kisses you again, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands roam over your body.

You moan as he touches your breasts, his fingers pinching and twisting your nipples. Hugh's mouth follows his hands, and he starts to suck on your nipples, his tongue swirling around them.

You arch your back, your body begging for more. Hugh's hand travels down your body, and he starts to rub your clit. You moan louder as he increases the pressure, your hips bucking against his hand.

"I want you inside me," you beg, your voice trembling.

Hugh doesn't need any more encouragement. He reaches for a condom and puts it on, his eyes never leaving yours. He positions himself at your entrance, and you feel the tip of his cock probing you.

He enters you slowly, his cock filling you up completely. You moan as he starts to thrust, his hips moving in a steady rhythm."Yes, yes, yes," you chant, your hips meeting his with every thrust.

Hugh leans down and whispers dirty talks in your ear, his words sending shivers down your spine.

"You like that, don't you?" he says, his voice low and husky. "You like it when I fuck you hard."

"Yes, yes, I do," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hugh starts to thrust harder and faster, his cock pounding into you. You feel the familiar tension building up inside you, your orgasm just within reach.

"I'm close," you gasp, your fingers digging into Hugh's back.

"Come for me," he commands, his voice full of authority.

And you do, your orgasm exploding through your body. Hugh follows shortly after, his cock twitching inside you as he reaches his own climax.

You lay there, your bodies entwined, your breathing heavy. Hugh kisses you softly, his hand tracing your face.

"I think I'm falling for you," he says, his voice full of emotion.

You smile, your heart swelling with happiness.

"I think I'm falling for you too," you reply.

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