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jjenthusee · 5 months ago

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Moonlight And Intentional Mistakes

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: This is inspired and dedicated to @heavysighing-dreamyeyes amazing post linked here (show it some love) and their numerous sweet words especially on my Broken Mug writing drabble (also linked), so after crying reading their messages, i had to do something about the intense rush to write and the best way i can think of thanking you is by doing what i know, art and writing. i had no idea that i was influencing anyone, i only hoped my love for Jason was communicated correctly. i hope every single one of you that comes across my account has beautiful things happen to u. i’ll give u all a million kisses. please continue to write, i would love to continue reading what u have for us next <3 there’s also a surprise at the end :D (as always comments are appreciated if you’re comfortable <3 let me know your brain rot thoughts) ENJOY

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, soft Jason, touch starved Jason lowkey, siri play Never Grow Up by Niall Horan 😔, might have inspired the direction of the fic

Word Count: 3.4k

The moon was high.

Moonlight had casted a faint glow on the window blinds, it peaked in through the tiny gaps.

Only a small lamp was on, cascading light from the living room into your room. It gave enough light to see the outlines of your room. Bathing everything it could touch in a faint warm glow.

It was still dark enough that the details were too fuzzy to point out, but most objects were wrapped in shadows, bringing a unique calm to your room.

In the chill of night, the bed was warm. Jason was the perfect heater. The blankets were cozy and the sound of a fan whirred at the corner of the room.

It didn’t make sense covering yourself head to toe in a fuzzy blanket with a fan blasting air at you, but the sound mellowed you into the night, calling slumber closer to you.

It would have been easy to sleep if you were given the chance, but your gentle giant boyfriend was adamant to prove to you that he needed to sleep as physically close as possible to you.

It would have been fine, but today you couldn’t find a relaxing sleeping position. You had to shift your body around before finding the state of mind and the right amount of comfort to drift off, but tonight was difficult. Not only were you constantly shifting in the bed sheets, you were keeping Jason awake.

As your body moved to a new spot on the bed, Jason followed. Turning his body to follow the heat you left behind on the sheets. He wasn’t fond of the fact that a blanket fully engulfed you while he didn’t, it wasn’t fair.

When he got close enough to throw his muscular arm over you, you beat him to your next journey across the mattress.

If the queen bed the both of you were laying on looked like a college dorm twin XL with Jason laid out over it, then you shouldn’t have cornered yourself onto the edge.

Now half of your body dangled off the mattress. The bed was definitely big enough for the both of you the last time you checked, but with Jason getting closer to you every time you moved, it looked like he teleported a smidge closer when you blinked.

It also wasn’t ideal when he rolled onto the corner of the blanket that had unraveled from your legs.

You teetered on the end of the bed when he purposefully made sure to take up ninety percent of what was left of the mattress. Locking you on the edge, wrapped in a blanket.

You had been laying on your side, but Jason kept nudging you, tickling your face with his messy hair when he got close enough to attempt to burrow his large self into you. You kept scooting back, but once you didn’t feel anymore mattress, your legs were feeling where the cold air invaded the bed.

Now you settled on the dangerous edge with one leg completely off. Despite your avoidance of Jason, your free leg locked around Jason’s leg for any support to keep you safely on the bed. Your entire upper half was swaddled like a baby as the blanket blocked out any of the chill, your arms completely smushed against your sides with no way to free yourself besides Jason moving his body off of the edges of your blanket.

You had no control whatsoever.

It was you and your straining leg on Jason that was the only thing keeping you from plopping on the cold floor. Now in a vulnerable position, did Jason have the bright idea of asking the question you’ve been avoiding all day.

Where were his pudding cups?

———

“I take it back!” You pleaded with Jason as he kept the blanket tightly wound around you, preventing you from moving your arms to retaliate.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Jason playfully faced at you, laying on his side. His voice melted with innocence, but had underlying amusement.

Your blanket was your savior and your enemy as it saved you from the hard floor, but it was also securely caught by Jason’s entire weight. He had you completely trapped inside with only your head and legs poking out, the fabric slung around you.

Moving his body an inch closer to the edge, Jason pushed your body further off, further with no support beside his mere weight and strength keeping you from falling.

“I swear there were two pudding cups before you left!” You screamed, your hair falling off your face, the ends gravitating toward the ground, your impending doom.

“Sweetheart, let’s play world’s greatest detective and I’ll ask you something. If I didn’t eat ‘em and we are the only two people who live in this apartment, then who do we have left? Hm?” Jason’s voice, honey sweet, as he emphasized the contradictions in your statement.

With the blanket bunched in his hands, Jason easily lowered you slightly, juggling your weight effortlessly while laying on his side. You cursed at his perfect athleticism.

The room may have been dark, but you didn’t need the moonlight to know he had a shit eating grin trying to get you to confess.

You felt like this was probably the closest you would feel to people walking the plank in those pirate movies you watched as a kid, a sick waiting game not knowing when your fate was inevitable. It was fun at the time and maybe the cold ocean was different from your bedroom floor, but otherwise it was still cold.

“I don’t even like sweets!” You playfully laughed as he teasingly let his hands slip, clearly seeing through your lie. You squealed as you felt your head dip and your leg fall from on top of Jason’s.

“And my hand slipped.” Jason equally lied through his teeth, his threat filled with no malice whatsoever as he securely held onto you.

“I’m starting to feel like this has nothing to do with pudding cups.” You raised your head back up to look at Jason, a full smile present on your face, testing your vulnerable state.

“Oh?” Jason raised his eyebrow as he looked down at you from the edge of the bed. The angle looked great on him.

“My world’s greatest detective intuition is telling me that you’re just mad that I kept rolling away from you.” You mischievously pointed out.

“My love, you need to use those skills to find out why all our pudding is gone.”

“Do you do this to all the criminals you interrogate?” You deflected, using your eyes to point to the current position both of you were in, dangling from the bed in a blanket while Jason kept you there.

“Only the pretty ones.” Jason sung, pulling you up slightly so you weren’t as close to the floor, not quite on the bed, but in a better spot than before.

“I didn’t realize the Red Hood had such malicious threatening techniques.” You shook your head feigning disappointment as you struggled to readjust your leg to latch onto his again. It probably looked awkward, but you were desperate. It wasn’t your fault that your boyfriend was built like a tank. “I promise to not rob anymore banks anytime soon. I’ll straighten myself out. Scouts honor.” You breathed out, exhausted from the movement.

“Just admit you ate the pudding and I’ll erase everything. Your speeding tickets and the bounty on you in 15 countries.”

“It’s 18 actually, don’t defile me—“

Jason effortlessly lowered you again. The blanket slipping slightly from jostling you around.

“Okay, okay!” You cried out. “If I fall you’re limited to two kisses a day!”

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Three, take it or leave it.”

“Tell me where the pudding is.”

“Four kisses and you can cuddle suffocate me when we sleep.” The blanket around you felt noticeably loose.

Jason scoffed, offended by your choice of phrasing.

“If our lives are ever on the line, I gotta remember I can’t ever let you negotiate.” He tauntingly called above you. “And I don’t cuddle suffocate you.”

“So it was ‘cause I moved away from you earlier!” You cried out as you slipped further. The blanket loosening completely around you, your gasp blurring into Jason’s name. A plea to catch you.

Jason quickly bent down, rolling his body off the bed and slipping his arms around you as he followed you to the floor. He rolled his body forward enough to quickly shift your position so his body plopped on the ground first while you landed on top of him.

It was a soft landing as you laid on his chest. Quickly finding a comfortable position in his arms.

“You only get one kiss a day.” You flatly said. “Why is our bed frame weirdly tall?” You nuzzled your head into his chest.

“Our deal was two.” Jason tenderly caressed your head. Moving your hair in motions that made you want to fall asleep.

“Looks like we’re both liars.” You barely whispered, sleepiness taunting your body.

“I guess you’re still wanted in 18 countries.”

You lazily laughed into Jason, his body slightly shaking from your movement. His arms wrapping around you, engulfing the feel of your laughter and locking it between your bodies. He smiled into your shoulder. Smelling your comfort.

You lifted your head, freeing your face. You were still being held by Jason, but you had a clearer view of his loving gaze lost on you as he traced your features, entranced by your smile.

“Missed opportunity.” You drunkenly watched and felt Jason’s fingers caressing your face.

“If you let me ‘cuddle suffocate�� you, you might have another shot.” Jason’s thumb rubbed your cheek, pressing into the softness. His calloused finger pads feeling slightly itchy, but you would never pull away, too endeared by how gently he treats you.

“Worth it.” You say after snapping out of your trance that was locked on your boyfriend. He knew the right areas to get your mind lost on his touch, focused solely on him.

You pulled yourself up from laying on top of Jason, grabbing for his hands as you stood. Straining to help pull him up, but almost all the effort came from his own strength, not yours.

Playfully, Jason never let go of your hands and let his body be dragged completely onto you, dramatically coming forward to rewrap himself around you.

You giggled as you threw your arms around him. Enjoying the warmth that radiated from him, reheating the once empty space. Your own personal heater. You were glad tonight was one of the nights he stayed home with you, cuddled in bed all evening. You tried your best to soothe his mind, away from the thoughts of patrol as much as you could.

Giving his mind a small mental break, to hold you close and whatever else he needed. Both of you continue to work hard to develop and maintain the kind of trust that Jason needed to work through the hard days, silent but never alone.

With reassuring hugs while he counted your breaths, holding onto your hand just to thoughtlessly memorize them, standing in your presence just to observe you.

His difficulty with readjusting to the mundane and useless tasks of every day life was the biggest challenge. Too many conversations about why we need to treat ourselves because we want to. Jason’s mind was filled with too many needs.

He needed a reason to buy himself something, he needed to push his body to the limits because there was no other option, he needed to work alone.

So you showed him that he didn’t need you to hold his arm while you walked around the city, but he wanted you to do it.

He didn’t need you to take care of him, but you wanted to because you cared.

As you lost yourself in the shared closeness, you swayed your body. Jason unconsciously following your movements, swaying with you and letting his hands intertwine behind you, letting it gently rest against your lower back. Once you held on, Jason had silently vowed to never be the first to let go.

As you moved your bodies, clueless about Jason’s promise to himself, you didn’t let go either. So the two of you clung to one another.

It was one of the millions of things you cherished about Jason, he showed his devotion through his mannerisms. He helped put away your bags after a tired day of work, when he brought you a blanket if you fell asleep on the couch then carried you to bed. He bought your favorite snacks if he was at the store. He effortlessly followed you, content to be next to you.

Of course, he still put up limitations. He wouldn’t put your safety at risk. He sat closer and became more aware of restaurant doors, he kept you walking on his side or always in front of him, when he slept he made sure to determine the layout that suited you best, away from the window. His eagerness to make sure your wellbeing is priority.

It led to him not sleeping once you switched your position too many times tonight. He wasn’t satisfied with you being closer to the window, but he also was determined to get you to cuddle.

Numerous times you wanted to tease him, but after a Red Hood reveal that had you debating if he collaborated with his brothers to pull a twisted prank on you and an emotional talk, you couldn’t blame him for any of it. The fitted suit was just an added bonus you could outrightly ogle at.

You two were standing, holding each other in the dark. His head nuzzled on the base of your neck, his hands gripping your shirt, crinkling at the desperation. Sometimes Jason felt overstimulated when his feelings were ready to burst. His unfamiliarity with so much tender affection makes his mind unable to process all of it.

All you can do is to tell him that your there. Reminding him that you were unwilling to go anywhere.

“I’m here, Jay.” You softly reassured. “I’m right here, in your arms.”

Jason was unaware of the same silent promise you prayed to yourself, to never let him go.

When Jason’s grip loosened, your lips softly kissed the side of his head, soothing the thing that gives him a hard time. Repeating the motion, feeling his breaths even.

You never said that you were limited to how many kisses you can give him.

As you methodically swayed and with one final kiss against his hot skin, Jason shifted himself to standing taller, resting his forehead on yours. His hair laid flat against your skin.

You closed your eyes, enjoying how docile he became once you initiated physical touch. A craving he wanted and you unconditionally gave him.

When you opened your eyes, adjusting to the darkness, you grabbed one of his hands to intertwine them, your other hand gently falling onto his shoulder. He noticed the familiar stance, mimicking that of a dance. He silently rested his free hand on your waist, once again feeling the fabric of his shirt that you wore.

There was no music, but you leaned into Jason once again, swaying to the rhythm of his heartbeat, slow and in tune with his breaths. The further closeness let you settle your head underneath his chin, his hand following around the width of your waist pulling you in more.

Everything felt perfect. It was the middle of the night in the dark, you wore pajamas, no music played, both of your hair messy, but you held Jason. A sweet grasp of his shirt bunched in your hand, your feet bumping into his, the smell of your soap radiating from his skin from his shower.

If this was your last day on Earth, you would think you were blessed to be in front of the most loving, tender man. Watching his eyes softened and sparkle as he feels a breath of peace.

That was all you needed.

In an act of surprise, you moved your arm to wrap around Jason’s waist and attempted to dramatically swoop him back. It was haphazardly done, but he gladly played along despite the difference in height making it a little awkward. He dipped back then came forward, reuniting your embrace, both of you laughing at your clumsy attempt at a slow dance.

“Why does this feel like an awkward school dance?” You breathed out, breathless from the laughing, talking into his clean shirt. Most likely you were taking it to wear tomorrow night.

“We’re just swaying, we aren’t really moving how we’re supposed to.” Jason rubbed your back as you caught your breath, his voice softly surrounding you as you rested on his chest, feeling every word.

“And how would you know?” You looked up at him, a teasing tone. “It’s not like either of us know how to slow dance.”

Jason paused, looking down at your eyes, contemplating.

“Would you like to learn?” He hesitated, combing his hand through your hair.

You completely stopped swaying, Jason’s hand dropping from the top of your head to rest on your cheek. He carefully watched your reaction, your eyes widening, a stunned look in your eyes.

His grip tightened, barely noticeable if you didn’t feel his thumb press on your waist, helping to remind you to respond.

“I mean, I’ve always wanted to try it.” You looked down toward your feet, slightly feeling the embarrassment creep up at your confession, but Jason rubbed his thumb on your cheek. A silent comfort. “But, I don’t have a reason to learn. I’m way past school dance age, I rarely go to events where it might happen, and…no one has ever asked me.”

A silence settled between the both of you, Jason’s thumb pausing. He looked between your eyes, glancing back and forth.

“Can I get my phone?” He asked with no explanation, no other detail leading to your earlier confession.

You felt the mortification creeping at you. You nodded, letting go of Jason.

He stood there until you removed yourself first. His grip fleeting, walking in the dark to grab his phone, illuminating the room with its screen where he stood. You curiously watched him, not quite understanding his intentions.

“I might be a little rusty.” He voiced, a broad back facing you.

A gentle melody played from his phone. Quiet, but getting louder as he pressed the volume button on the side of his phone.

“What?” You stood there awkwardly.

Jason turned to face you, throwing his phone on the night stand as he walked back over, raising an open hand to you.

“May I have this dance?”

He stunned you again, your brain having too many delays at once.

Your hand trembled as you raised it to meet his. You couldn’t respond to his question because your throat ached, ached in a way that you wished the world ended right there, to consume the pounding heartbeat in your ears, the firm grip of Jason, and attempt to swallow up all the love swelling in your heart. It would put up one hell of a fight.

Once the both of you met, bodies close, Jason repositioned your hands as it was before. Gently guiding you through the steps as you nervously looked at your feet, your tense body adding to your struggle.

Once you felt a decent rhythm and Jason patiently assisted you, memorizing your expressions, movements and the smile you beamed when you finally felt comfortable.

He grabbed your chin. Guiding your head back up to look at him. Bringing his head closer to yours.

Your eyes closed halfway before he gripped your back, dipping you back, holding your weight as you inhaled in surprise.

“Jason!” You laughed his name as he swung you back up, extravagantly twirling you from him, clasping your hand to twirl you back into his embrace.

“Rusty, huh?” You quipped, eyeing him, trying to stabilize your steps.

“What can I say, Alfred beat the movements into me. He would feel a shift in the air if I got it wrong.” Jason smiled, picking up the swaying again, enthusiastically moving both your bodies.

You continued dancing through laughter, not watching your feet as much as you were, letting the feeling of the music guide you.

Not knowing where your body and his separated, a beautiful blur.

How could you have missed out on something so sweet?

A dance shared between two individuals who adore one another.

Jason stamped another mark onto your life.

First dances laced with intertwined hands, lips brushing against one another, tuning out everything but each other’s voices.

Maybe the world did end, but you wouldn’t have known, too immersed in the moonlight on Jason’s skin, the warmth of love and home enveloping you.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #writing #what i would give to learn to slow dance with jason #imagine growing old with jason and continuing the slow dance tradition #screaming #art

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bunny-1111 · 4 months ago

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Hi!!!

Can you write something on theo nott like how he becomes vulnerable with y/n

By the way love your writing style❤️❤️❤️

Thank you so much! and thanks for the request, I hope you enjoy <3

...

Theodore Nott was nothing if not private.

He kept most thoughts to himself and his secret buried deep within.

It could be endearing sometimes, but when you looked at his face, the look telling you he has something he wants to say, something that's eating him up, something he wants to talk about, and yet, he says nothing. A small frown hinted at the corners of his lips, and a wishful thought threatened to spill from his tongue.

Whenever he got close to dropping his guard, he rebuilds his walls ten times higher, and stronger.

His worries, unbeknownst to you, became your own.

What's he thinking about, what's wrong, why won't he talk to me?

You tried to get him to talk to you, and tried, and tried, and tried again.

All your troubles were met with radio silence from Theodore.

While lying in bed, covered in blankets and body heat, the two of you spoke—well, you spoke, and he listened.

"And then, Pansy looked at me in front of the whole classroom and called me a bitch. Can you believe that, my own best friend?" You sniffled through your rant

"No, I can't believe that; she shouldn't have. It's gonna be ok though, I promise you, I won't leave your side for a second tomorrow, alright?" he comforted, wiping your tears and rubbing circles on your shoulder

"thank you Teddy, I'm so lucky to have you" You frown up at him "No, I'm lucky to have you" He smiled, kissing your slightly puffy cheeks

"I wish I could help you too if you ever need to talk about anything" you sighed

By the end of your sentence, you felt his body stiffen.

You didn't ask again.

You had accepted that it wouldn't come quickly or easily from Theo, but you were patient, so you finally let go of expectation, maybe you would never see your boyfriend vulnerable, maybe he was invincible, you just didn't know.

But out of protest, you stopped telling Theodore your own problems, you stopped confiding in him for even the smallest things, you couldn't constantly give and not take, you thought.

Only then did it hit Theodore, that he had accidentally pushed you away by not giving you a glimpse into his mind.

Sitting on the cold leather couches of the common room, you ranted to Draco about Snapes lesson

'Why the fuck is she telling him and not me?' Theodore thought, watching you go on about your teacher. He took a deep breath in and did what he always does. Left.

He ventured out into the cold night, finding a seat beneath the courtyard, lighting a cigarette, his head against the brick.

Why the fuck won't she talk to me, even about bloody Snape?

Why the fuck does she think Draco can help her, when I'm right here?

What else hasn't she told me?

His mind raced against him until he reached his unusual conclusion of panic. His heart beating hard against his chest, his head pounding with worry, "Holy shit" he muttered, this is exactly how you felt when he pulled away from you.

He took one last long drag of his smoke, dropping it, and stomping on its remaining ash.

It was now well past curfew, and he knew it; the last thing he needed was to be caught sneaking into the girl's dormitories, so he raced against the speed of his own feet until he found himself knocking on your door.

You crept out tired, "Hey" you yawn, shocked to see him without notice, he wasn't usually spontaneous at showing up to your dorm, always announced, never the less, you of course open the door wide to let him in.

"Are you ok?" you ask, doubting you would get an honest answer, but you ask anyway.

"No" he admitted, you almost think you didn't hear him correctly, he had made you stop dead in your tracks.

Turning to him instantly

"What's wrong, teddy" you begin, gently placing a hand on his face, he takes your hand in his.

He doesn't say anything back yet, just pulls you into a tight hug, OK, you think, this is at least, a start.

Your face must've shown what you were thinking, compassion, as your brows furrowed, you pleaded with your eyes, open up to me

To your surprise, he begins to talk, now sitting, facing each other on the edge of your bed, "I so fucking overwhelmed, and my fathers being a pain in my ass, constantly sending me letters about Merlin knows what, and I haven't even started studying for exams, and I don't want to go home for the holidays, it's so cold and lonely in my fucking house, and I miss you, I feel like we've drifted apart lately and I know it's my fault" he quickly spills out in one go.

You had to gasp for air yourself, he had held so much in, you didn't know what to process first. By the time you went to open your mouth, Theodore shot up, racing for your door, hands nervously running through his hair "This was dumb, I'm sorry, forget everything I just said." you rushes

"No! No, Theo, please, sit back down", you plead. To your surprise, he listens, though he doesn't look up, but that's ok as long as he stays? Baby steps, you thought.

"You don't have to reply to his letters, and if you really think you do, I'll help you write one back politely telling him to lay off, that you need to focus on your studies. Theo, you don't even need to study, your the smartest in every class, but you and I, can stay in the library every Friday night so you can get into routine" You started, he was looking at you now.

"You can come home with me for the holidays, or I'll come with you and if you don't want to leave! We will stay here, alright?! And Teddy, we will never leave each other, that, I promise, because we're fixing things, we're finally talking" your smile laced with sympathy

He watched you for a while, his eyes wide, his breath caught, his body practically frozen, until it wasn't, until he dropped his head into your chest, until he realised how easy it was to talk to you, that you actually had a solution.

"I'm sorry that I've never done this before, you know, open up. It's not easy for me," he says muffled, cringing at what he was confessing

"I know, my love, I hope this is helping, Teddy, I'm here for you for a long as you need me," you say

"You know, usually, I just save this all for my mum. When I get home, I visit her grave and I tell her everything I'd never said out loud, but it's so hard to get there most of the time and being at school for so long I just-" he says, as he looks up he see your eyes filling with tears

"Hey, no no, I didn't mean to make you cry" he says now holding you too

"Theo, that's horrible, I'm here. I'm here" you insist

"I know that now, I haven't done this before, I always thought it was wrong to, I don't know, communicate" he almost laughed.

You scruffled his hair, lacing your hands through his slightly tangled brown locks.

"Let me take those thought of yours, I'll kept them safe in my mind from now on, let me share the heavy load with you, we can help each other" you smile

He went on about everything else bothering him, and by the end, he felt a sense of relief, of lightness, of peace.

Even after almost a year together, that was the beginning of a new stage of your relationship. Trust was built, and now Theodore knew, even though he had previously resisted, all he had to do was find you, and you'd be there.

P.S, it's almost 1am for me so, I'm tired. This might not be the best lol, not edited or reread <33

Message for any requests, as always, comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated my loves <3

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bluurene · 11 months ago

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dom!possessive!gp!minji x sub!fem!reader

a/n : when you say yandere im gonna say possessive just because..

warnings ; gagging, size play(?), pet names like baby, slut, just jealous possessive min🙌

You are one of the prettiest girls in schools, alot of the guys wants you. You told them you're taken numerous times but all they did was ignore it and keep on trying to get your number.

Now this made your girlfriend angry, jealous.

Some people were scared of Minji because of how cold she was. But most of them are inlove with her because of that, they found it quite attractive.

You aren't worried about the girls flirting with Minji because you knew Minji would turn them down but you still can't help but feel jealous.

. . .

You were waiting for Minji to finish her class but as always some rando would come up to you.

Looking up from your phone, expecting the same guys again but you were met with Yunjin—the popular basketball player in school. You could see her friends behind her from afar, snickering at Yunjin.

"Hey yn, who are you waiting for?" She asked, smiling at you. Maybe she only wanted to be friends with you. "I was just waiting for Minji." You smiled back and she nodded. "Ah, I see. You look really pretty today, by the way." Yunjin looks away shyly when she said that and to be honest it was a cute reaction. "Thank you, Yunjin." You giggled, only making Yunjin's face more red.

You didnt notice Minji staring at the both of you. She just got out of class, a tiring one. So, seeing Yunjin trying to get close to you just made her more irritated.

"yn"

minji called out for you, surprising you a little. "Minji, you're out already." You said but your girlfriend did not say anything else and grabbed your wrist, dragging you to her dorm leaving Yunjin and her friends confused.

. . .

The door was slammed shut behind you, causing you to slightly jump.

Minji turned around to look at you, her eyes darkening. Her hands reached down to tug on her pants, showing her boxers. You could see the big bulge on her boxers and you gulped, knowing what is about to come. "Get down on your knees and suck." She demanded. Not wanting to disappoint her, you got on your knees, facing her bulge.

You pulled it down, freeing her cock from its confines. It was long, thick and veiny. "What are you waiting for? Suck it, slut." Minji growled, her hand gripping your hair and tugging on it.

You got to work, starting by licking the tip then down to the base. When you're sure your salive was coating her cock, you started stroking her. Minji's head hung back, groaning as you jerked her off. You gave kisses on the tip before taking it whole, ducking her off. Her length almost gagging you. "Fuck, take more." She grumbles, thrusting her hips forward which made her cock go deeper, her tip hitting the back of your throat.

She continued her relentless thrusting in your mouth while you gagged, but you weren't even pushing her away, you like it when she does this.

Before she wss about to cum though, she pulled out, letting you breath again. "Not yet." She muttered to herself. She pulled you up, then dragging you further in the room and pushing you down on the bed. She quickly unzips your skirt then pulling it down harshly. Seeing your wet panties, she smirked. "Huh, you're so wet baby. Did Yunjin do this or was it because of how deep my cock went in your mouth?" She rips the fabric off, not even caring at this point. "Why did you do that-" You went quiet when you saw Minji glaring at you.

She propped your legs up on her shoulders, aligning her cock with your pussy. She slowly pushed in, both of you moaned at the feel. She was big, you could see the bulge on your stomach when her cock went in. "You're so tight, baby." She began pounding in you, giving you little time to adjust to her size. Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you while Minji thrusted in you like a wild animal in heat. "You like that? Like when I fuck you like this?" She teased, beginning to thrust even faster and harder which got you screaming her name, the people outside must have heard it. "Maybe you prefer Yunjin doing this to you. I bet she can't fuck you as good as I do." All you could do was whine in response, submitting yourself to her.

Minji leaned down to litter your neck with hickeys. "Guess I need to mark you up to let them know you're mine huh?" She lightly bit your shoudler blade, moaning against it. "Minji, I-Im cumming.." You moaned, your hands on her back, digging your sharp nails into her skin that made her groan. "Then..shit..cum for me, slut." She thrusts even faster, also feeling herself coming.

Soon, you came with Minji who painted your insides with her cum. Both of you were panting and Minji pulled out, immediately laying beside you on the bed. She pulled you close to her, nuzzling her face against your marked up neck. Her soft side was back. "Hm..that felt nice." She mumbles. "Dont you want to clean up?" You said, slowly stroking her hair. "Later, I want to cuddle for now.." Hearing this, you giggled.

. . .

The next day, Yunjin wanted to take another shot. She saw that you were wearing a turtle neck sweater which confused her. "Hey yn, dont you feel hot?" She asked. You looked up at her and chuckled awkwardly. "Not really..." You said, tugging on your collar, Yunjin able to see the hickey that Minji made. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. What a way to know that you have no chance. She thought.

#gxg smut #kpop #kpop gg #newjeans #newjeans minji #kim minji x reader #minji x reader #kim minji

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r0tting-dolly · 2 months ago

Note

Hi! Can I request headcanons for how the TWST third years would react to male Yuu!reader rolling up to their dorm in a crop top and booty shorts, holding a laundry basket and being like "Ay yo, my laundromat's busted. Can I use yours?" (With said third years having a crush on the reader?)

Male Reader wearing a crop top and booty shorts in front of the third years

Characters: Lilia, Malleus, India, Leona, (couldn’t do all of them bc i got tired sorry :[

Warnings: suggestive, not much else

Lilia

You walked over to the Daisomnia dorm knocking before the door opened on its own, surprising you for a second. You walked in slowly carrying your basket of clothing and some blankets before something suddenly dropped down directly in front of you. “OH WHAT THE FUCK-” you shreiked dropping the basket before hearing a familiar laugh “Hee hee Kee hee hee”. Lillia hopped down in front of you giggling before looking up eyes widening as he began to smirk.

“Lilia you damn near gave me a heart attack PLEASE never do that again” you panted holding your chest. “I make no promises dear, but do tell what’s with the outfit” he smiled, staring you up and down. “Oh that, the laundry at Ramshackle is busted and I was wondering if I could wash this here” you picked up the laundry basket holding it. “Oh?” Lilia smiled “Come then although i’m not too sure if i'll be keeping my hands to myself” he smirked as you sighed while he brought you to the laundry room with an arm around your waist.

Malleus

A knocking sound was heard from the daisomnia dorm's door, which in turn caused its intimidating dorm head to face the door. At the time Lilia had taken Sebek and Silver out to get sweets from a shop he heard about online saying something about “All the kids are talking about this epic shop-” or something of the sort that caused silver to internally cringe while Sebek yelled about how “they must see it at once”. Malleus sat in his room, after hearing the knocking he stood up and opened the door. You stood looking up at him, originally he’d planned to greet you as usual, that was until he looked down at your clothing.

“Child of man how come you’ve appeared to me toni-” he cut himself off after looking down breathlessly. You wore a short crop top and shorts that tightly hugged your skin, to Malleus it felt sinful to even look at. Malleus’s face heated up as his normally cold expression melted away, leaving his fists clenched and eyes wide ‘was it hot or was it just him?’. “C-Child of man I’m not quite sure If your choice of clothing is appropriate for tonight's weather, it’s quite cold right now” he said trying to regain composure although the blush on his sharply pointed ears said otherwise.

“Oh hello Malleus. My washing machine and dryer are kinda busted, so I was wondering if you’d lend me yours for a bit” you said smiling as if unaware of the effect you had on him. He took a second to process before letting you inside and leading you to the laundry room. Although the entire time he was trying to be polite you could feel his dreamlike gaze on you.

Idia

Ortho knocked on his brother’s door, who didn’t respond so he opened it. “Idia!” he said, alerting his brother who nearly slipped and fell out of his gaming chair. “A-ah Ortho I’m kind of in the middle of a match right now what do you-” he cut himself off after seeing the prefect walk in next to him. His jaw dropped while his hair burst into pink flames, his controller slipping out of his hands.

“Y-YOU, i-i what are you doing here” he said loudly, his voice becoming shaky and quiet after the first word. “Well if you opened the door you would've known, His washer and dryer is broken so I offered to let him use ours we just came over to tell you” Ortho said informing his brother of the situation. “W-Whatever just get that normie out of my room” he said, face barely covered by his hand. After they left Idia crossed his legs embarrassingly hiding his hard on, the way those shorts hugged your thighs and oh god when you turned around, shit he needed to grab a tissue.

Leona

Leona heard someone walking into the room where he was lounging and he looked up, it was (Name) wearing some well fitting clothing, he raised an eyebrow. “Herbivore, what are you doing here? Did you pay Ruggie to let you in again” he said in a bit of an annoyed tone but his eyes said something different. “No, I was just here to wash my clothing because Ramshackles' shitty washing machine and dryer broke. I told Crowley to buy new ones but he just had to act like that was a world ending request” you sighed and Leona looked unsurprised.

“Do as you will I guess but don’t take too long” he snarled, and you looked at him “ok big guy I'll only be here as long as it takes to wash and dry this stuff” you sighed and walked out unaware of Leona sharply eyeing your ass.

Authors note: I'm gonna work on some pretty pictures of the characters i write for so my layout looks cool!

#twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland #twst x male reader #disney twst #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x male reader #malleus draconia #malleus x male reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia twisted wonderland #lilia x male reader #lilia vanrouge x male reader #idia shroud #idia x male reader

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slowd1ving · 7 months ago

Text

THIS CHURCH SURE HAS WONDERFUL ACOUSTICS! ✦ . 　⁺ MALLEUS DRACONIA NSFW

“I just miss my friends, I guess,” you admitted, tracing your fingers on the hem of the shirt as you spoke. “I just want to hold someone I know and let my sorrows melt away.” There was a brief pause as Hornton tilted his head slightly in thought. “Holding someone, will it make you happy?” in which a dragon and a human find comfort in each other warnings: amab!reader but no pronouns, nsfw, hurt/comfort, sacrilegious, explicit sex wc: 5.2k

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

Cold night air swirled through the cracked windows of Ramshackle, stifling all hopes you had of a good night’s sleep. You could almost see your breath fogging up in the diabolically cold room; really, were you surprised Crowley hadn’t provided you with adequate insulation? Only Grim’s warmth at the foot of the bed gave you any semblance of heat - alas, it was simply not enough.

My toes are going to freeze off and roll away, you thought mournfully. Shivering, you stared up at the rickety ceiling, as if it would provide any other comfort. Slowly but surely, your thoughts turned away from Crowley’s nasty little shack he gave you to call home, and instead became retrospective.

Homesickness. It wasn’t just that you missed your room back home, and all the little oddities within. Friends. Comfort. You missed the casual touches of friends back home. The bone-crushing hugs you’d give, clinging on for dear life whenever you wanted. Holding hands with friends while hanging out; the skin-to-skin contact reminded you there were others with you.

Why did it have to end?

Sure, you had Ace and Deuce (maybe even Jack?) as your new chums, pals, bosom buddies, etc. It was nice to have friends in this odd place. But you longed for the familiarity that old friends carried; the lack of shared memories and touch with Ace and Deuce made them, quite frankly, mere acquaintances in your eyes.

Hollowness. That was what you felt at that very moment. It was unbearable. There were no tears to be shed, only a deep apathy for your situation. You supposed it wasn’t all that healthy, but it was probably your brain in shock.

What could you really do? Your teeth gnawed on your bottom lip as you shifted out of bed. You weren’t getting any sleepier, so the next best thing was to get some fresh air and maybe even water. Like a plant.

As you ambled downstairs towards the porch, you found your mind wandering to that boy with horns who often appeared by the porch of Ramshackle Dorm, who Grim had nicknamed Hornton. For whatever reason, the boy hadn’t taken offence to the name, though you supposed he did ask you to call him whatever you wished.

At least Grim hadn’t suggested something like Horny McHorn the Horned…

You shook the thought from your mind, mentally gagging. Would Hornton even be here at your porch tonight? A small part of your mind yearned for the comfort of another presence, even if it was someone you had only a handful of encounters with.

Quietly, you unlatched the front door (the poor thing almost keeled over with the slightest nudge) and slipped outside. Only the cold air greeted you; surprisingly, it was warmer out here than in your very bed (maybe it was the ghosts?).

Disappointment wormed its way into your stomach. It was silly. Hornton didn’t have an obligation to be here at all, so why were you feeling this way? You slunk onto the front step and sat down, wrapping your arms around yourself.

At least the cold air was slowly becoming refreshing? Or was this an attempt to gaslight yourself into making the most of this situation?

“Child of man, what has prompted your sadness?” a voice spoke from above, and you almost squeaked in surprise as you looked upwards to see the glowing eyes of Hornton.

“Hornton!” you scrambled to stand up, brushing off the rickety fragments of Ramshackle that no doubt clung to your sleepwear. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

“I am here now,” Hornton’s patient voice seemed to have a touch of concern for your slightly dishevelled appearance. “Still, you have not answered my question. Would you like to talk about what ails you so?”

You met his eyes. His brows were drawn low in contemplation. It wouldn’t hurt to tell him, right?

“I just miss my friends, I guess,” you admitted, tracing your fingers on the hem of the shirt as you spoke. “I just want to hold someone I know and let my sorrows melt away.”

There was a brief pause as Hornton tilted his head slightly in thought.

“Holding someone, will it make you happy?”

“Yeah, it just reminds me I’m not alone?” the end of your sentence curled up into a question when you furrowed your brows trying to think of a good answer.

“Then-” Hornton took a step closer to you, gazing at your face. “-may I do the honours?”

Your eyes widened involuntarily. You hadn’t thought he’d actually volunteer to hug you, but it was a very pleasant surprise.

“Yes, please,” your voice came out a lot softer than you had hoped. He held out his arms (quite awkwardly, you had to admit). Your arms enveloped his upper torso, and your head fitted right into the crook of his neck.

You could feel his hands, almost fluttering with the amount of care he held within them.

“You can put them anywhere on my back,” you murmured with your eyes closed. A smile wriggled its way onto your face when you felt a light pressure on your scapula and upper spine. In response, you put more pressure into your hug, letting your strength create a comforting weight upon Hornton.

You felt him sharply intake air with the added pressure, before softening into your grasp. Sharp claws brushed over your back as he curled his hands slightly inwards to grip onto the back of your shirt.

He wasn’t cold, exactly, but he was pleasantly cool to the touch. Your body, pressed against his, could feel the rhythmic thump of his heart. Slow and steady. As you slowly breathed in, you could smell on him woodsmoke and what smelled like the wind during rainy autumn days.

Your hands slowly worked their way upwards before they settled higher on his spine, where his hair cascaded over your hands like an obsidian waterfall. You pressed even tighter against him, but not overwhelmingly so - whatever homesickness you had earlier slowly ebbed away.

Slowly, you began to pull away to take a breather. Hornton loosened his grip on your shirt and furrowed his brow at you before speaking.

“That was… nice,” Hornton stated. A rosy hue painted the tips of his pointed ears.

“Can I be selfish and request another hug?” Hornton continued, his eyes crinkling as he smiled down at you tentatively.

“Yeah, you’re really good at this,” you smiled back at him encouragingly, breath caught in your throat as he let out a little laugh. Burying the feeling, you pressed back into his body, allowing yourself to collect your thoughts before holding him tighter.

Who the hell allowed him to be so goddamn beautiful? You felt your pulse rise to an allegro. To make matters worse, Hornton wrapped his arms around you in a very similar manner that you employed when hugging. Such close proximity felt as though the two of you were becoming one.

Your heart almost jumped into your throat as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel his breath fanning out onto your collarbone. Gleaming onyx horns jutted out past your shoulder; really, every part of Hornton was perfectly polished.

His claws brushed against your back once again as he held you closer. An inkling of understanding trickled through your brain; he was also desperate to be held. Tentatively, one of your hands left its post at his spine and carefully made its way to the nape of his neck. You cradled the back of his neck, running your fingers through the hair on his scalp.

His breathing rapidly quickened against your collarbone, and you felt his pulse sync up to your own, the staccato beats assuring you in continuing your ministrations.

How long had it been since he had been held? From the snippets of conversations that had been about him, you had gathered that he was generally feared by the student populace and distanced from the outside world; it was definitely a possibility that he was touch-deprived, especially if he was someone in a position of high power or responsibility.

In response to your own contemplation, you simply locked your arms around him, making sure the pressure around him wasn’t going to be unpleasant, but rather like a weighted blanket. You felt him relax even more into the hug, and you mentally patted yourself on the back.

“Child of man..” his voice brushed against your throat, and you felt your face heat up. Surely he felt your pulse spike upwards? You stifled your shiver and looked down upon him. Piercing green eyes focused on you as you nervously swallowed.

“Yeah?” Whatever hopes of sounding composed were dashed as your voice almost warbled. At best, it was just shaky.

“Thank you,” Hornton’s voice reverberated with pure sincerity against your sternum. He was going to be the death of you, you thought. You took it as a cue to slowly disentangle your arms from around him as his head slowly raised.

“Can I..” his voice was laced through with hesitation as his eyes searched your face for an answer, even before he finished his question. Heavy heartbeats resounded through your entire body as you waited for him to finish.

“Can I kiss you?” Pause. Blood rushed through your entire organism. You could almost count the number of capillaries extending through your body as you suddenly rushed into a state of transcendent awareness. Goddamn. You couldn’t think straight, especially since he was still holding on to you.

“It’s alright if-” his voice was cut off when your fingers curled around his striped tie (really, why was he still in uniform?!) and pulled him closer. Your other hand gently made its way to his chin to guide him to you.

You heard his breath stutter as your lips brushed over his. Distantly, you were aware of his hands choosing to cradle the back of your head. He really was adorable; you smiled into the kiss ever so slightly as you deepened it, feeling him stiffen marginally.

Hesitation was clearly present in his kiss as you guided him through it. Your pace was languorous to allow him to adjust, especially when you opened your mouth. Sharp fangs brushed over your tongue as he opened his own mouth for you. Good.

Your eyes squinted open slightly in shock when you felt his forked tongue. Holy shit. He clearly felt your surprise, since his grip on the back of your head suddenly became more solid and his movements a lot more confident. Seemed like he had adjusted. Your hand trailed from his tie and settled on his waist, pulling him towards you while simultaneously pressing yourself towards him so he’d step backwards. His back pressed against the sturdy beam of the porch, and you could feel surprise radiating at your boldness.

“Mmph-” you saw his eyes flutter open when he gasped slightly at the impact. Once again, you could feel the corners of your lips tugging upwards into a smile, and he felt it too, since you could feel his eyes burning into you.

You pulled back to take a breather, watching a string of saliva connect the two of you. He was enraptured with it, with his cool lips slightly parted in what could probably be described as awe as he watched the thread bridging the distance.

His eyes flickered back to yours, watching for any sign of discomfort. When he found none, he tilted his head slightly. A question. You leaned in, sealing your answer. But instead of his mouth, you tilted his head sideways and pressed a kiss to his neck, loosening his tie to allow for a canvas for you.

“What-” his question was cut off by an exhale of breath that was suspiciously close to a moan when you lightly bit his pulse point, sucking on it to leave a bruising mark. “Keep- keep going.”

You were going to do just that. A burning trail of marks made their way from right under his ear to his collarbone, accompanied by his slightly strangled breathing. Your knee found its way between his legs, almost subconsciously, but it didn’t pull away as he sank down onto it slightly. Goodness, he really was eager.

Then again, so were you. Your body pressed further into his to hear his irregular breathing. Your mouth continued its feverish ministrations. All to further fluster him. The smugness almost creeped out of your pores with how satisfied you were feeling at that moment.

You could almost feel him slightly moving against your thigh, desperate for any sort of friction. Pulling back, you gazed at him with a shit-eating grin (one that was quickly stifled). His eyes were half-lidded with a sultry gaze, lips glazed over with spit.

“Do you want to continue this?” you asked him seriously. When he nodded, eyes still slightly hazed over, you frowned slightly, leaning in closer.

“Use your words, pretty boy,” you commanded, tilting your head. His eyes met yours, the sharp green gaze slightly softening.

“Please, I want to continue,” he said with a touch of desperation. His eyes flickered between your heavy gaze and your slightly swollen lips. You felt that shit eating grin almost rise again within you at this powerful being reduced to such a state.

“Do you have anywhere we can go?” you inquired, gesturing to the rickety building behind you. No doubt it would probably collapse with any sort of frisky activity.

“Yes, actually,” with that, Hornton pulled you close to him and a cloud of warm fireflies obscured your vision. You couldn’t see much, only his comforting presence pressed against you.

“Call me Malleus,” his voice brushed against your ear as the two of you were carried off to who knows where.You could almost hear his smile as you shivered slightly. “I would like to hear my name out of your mouth when you cry it out.”

You almost felt your jaw drop with his audacity. Strangely, that name was really familiar. Malleus. Malleus? That Malleus? Your brow furrowed, making connections between the rumours of the terrifying Diasomnia housewarden and the boy with horns next to you. Ah. You had just wrapped potentially the most powerful mage in this school around your pinkie finger.

Still, it was bold of him to assume he wouldn’t be the one crying out. The fireflies slowly began to fade out, and you braced yourself for wherever Malleus had taken you.

Hold on.

Was this a cathedral? Your eyes surveyed the abandoned building. Under the watchful eye of the moon, shimmering stained glass patterns cast themselves onto the stone and marble friezes. Some of the roof was missing, leaving dust motes to swim around languidly in the harsh streams of moonlight.

The altar before you was covered in a pristine white cloth, unmarked by blemishes. Beside it was a vase of freshly cut lilies. Who could’ve-

“I come here to think,” Malleus admitted to you sheepishly. He looked around the building with you. “I’ve been trying to tidy it up a bit, but it’s secluded enough that it can wait. The acoustics here are wonderful.”

You weren’t even surprised. Although, sex in an abandoned cathedral was a first.

“How sacrilegious!” your eyes widened with mock-incredulity. You didn’t give a shit, in all actuality. Carnal desire began to pump within your veins. You grabbed his arm and pulled him to the altar, smoothing the edge of the cloth against what could only be stone.

“Allow me,” Malleus pressed a chaste kiss to the edge of your mouth before lifting you up onto the cloth. You stared down at him, slightly amused by his boldness. What could he be planning? Your questions were answered as he gestured to your pants inquiringly. Was he going to suck you off?

With deft hands, Malleus undid the ties that held the pants to your hips, before tugging them off and letting them pool on the stone steps beside the vase of lilies. You watched in surprise as he ravenously stared down your boxers.

“Eager, aren’t we?” you crooned, feeling the pressure on your thighs tighten as he gripped them. Your words didn’t seem to register as he swallowed audibly. The piercing thralls of desire suddenly consumed you; wordlessly, you hooked a thumb around the waistband and pulled them down, hissing as the cool night air hit the skin of your dick.

You watched him observe your movements with the gaze of a predator, lustfully looking at your exposed skin. This time it was your turn to swallow audibly as he bent down between your legs and pressed a cool kiss to the soft skin on the inner thighs. His flickering green eyes held your gaze and you felt your face heat up as he smiled.

You leaned back, pressing your palms flat against the altar to attempt to quell your lust. His eyes never left your face as he kissed the base of your dick. You fought the urge to bury your face in your hands when he thumbed the slit, spreading the precum along the head, eliciting a small gasp from you. Malleus’ fangs flashed at you as he opened his mouth to suckle the top of your dick.

“Fuck,” you groaned, shifting onto one palm as the other buried itself in his hair. You could feel a low rumble in his throat at the action, which in turn stimulated you further. He began licking in earnest; you thanked whatever ancestor it was that gave him that heavenly forked tongue. Malleus looked divine like this, with the pale impressions of the stained glass upon his body.

Without warning, he took you in his mouth. The sensation of the cool saliva enveloping your dick was almost enough to make you scream, and you grabbed onto one of his horns without thinking. The action made Malleus stiffen, before a deep groan emerged from his throat.

“Good boy,” you praised him as he took you deeper, thumbing the ridges of his horn. So. They really were sensitive, you duly noted. Your gentle ministrations along the edges of his horn, coupled with your praises, almost gave him heart arrhythmia with how fast his heart was beating. And he knew you could feel his pulse through your thighs, with the way you smiled at him with that look in your eyes.

He quickened his pace with his mouth, wanting to hear more of those gasps and praises from you. You matched his tempo with his horns, grinning as you felt more vibrations of his groans on his dick. Could you make him come from just this? Your second hand raised from the altar to set on his other horn, mirroring your actions. His eyes squeezed shut with the pleasure, and you could feel more saliva than usual.

“Fuck, Malleus,” you groaned when he took you all the way down. His name on your tongue sounded absolutely divine echoing within the cathedral, and his dick throbbed within the confines of his uniform pants.

“I’m going to-” you cried out when he hollowed out his cheeks, feeling so absolutely tight. You saw white as you came in his mouth, and felt him swallow as best as he could. Fuck. He felt unbelievably good.

The taste of you on his tongue caused Malleus’ mind to go haywire as you kept stroking his horns. He felt his own climax fast approaching; desperately, he squeezed his thighs together for any semblance of friction.

“You did so good, Malleus,” your thumb wiped up some of the fluid leaking from the corner of his mouth, driving him over the edge. He released into his pants, feeling the fabric soil.

Malleus let out a strangulated moan as your dick left his mouth, and you blinked. Once. Twice. Surely he hadn’t.. You gazed down at the wet spot slowly spreading across his pants and grinned. Seems your earlier question had been answered.

“Did you come untouched? What a desperate little slut,” you cooed, lifting his face to yours by grabbing his chin with your hand. At your words, for some inexplicable reason, Malleus felt his dick twitch once again.

You pressed your lips to his, tasting the salt on his tongue as he eagerly opened his mouth once again. You left him chasing after you as you hopped off the altar, grabbing his hips to prevent him grinding against you to relieve that need for friction.

“In all due time,” you murmured, pressing a quick kiss to the marks you made on his collarbones earlier. Malleus’ eyes followed your motions as you tugged off his blazer and unbuttoned his pants. You could feel the tension as you ran your fingers across his poised abdomen.

In one swift motion, you tugged down his pants, exposing his skin. Yippee. Your eyes traced his figure, noticing his gaze lingering on your hands.

“Do you want me to continue?” you asked, enunciating every word. His eyes snapped back to yours.

“Please, touch me,” he begged you. Something about his desperation lit a fire within you. Who were you to deny his wish?

“Open,” you gestured to his mouth. With a quizzical look, he complied, allowing you to place two fingers in his mouth.

“Coat them,” you grinned as he obediently sucked on your fingers. Oh, you were going to enjoy ruining him. You took your fingers out of his mouth, turning him around to face the altar using his hips.

“Bend over,” you instructed, guiding his hands with your free hand to rest on the altar. He’d most likely need the support. Malleus complied with your request, upper body tense.

“Relax, I won’t bite,” you deftly pulled down his boxers, hearing him hiss at the frigid air. You traced circles on his ass with your dry hand, before using your spit-covered fingers to tease at his entrance. “Unless you want me to.”

You heard him gasp as your fingers slid into his tight hole. The ring of muscle didn’t offer much resistance as you allowed him to grow accustomed to the feeling. A grin wormed its way onto your face as you saw the sheen of sweat on his brow. You didn’t even know fae could sweat.

Before you could ask him if he was adjusted, you felt his hips try to rock on your fingers. That wouldn’t do.

“Ah-ah,” you tutted, grabbing his hips with your free hand. “Not so fast.”

Your fingers moved agonisingly slowly inside of him, rhythmically pumping in and out so as to not allow him to release too quickly. With an absolutely devilish grin, you located that sweet spot of spongy nerves inside him, pressing it with enough pressure for him to moan uncontrollably until the very rafters of the cathedral echoed the sound back.

You didn’t allow him to climax though, pulling away everytime he was close. The sight of him, panting beneath your careful touches, made you unbelievably horny. His expression was one of desperation when he looked back at you.

“Please, fill me,” Malleus gasped out as he was once again denied release. Who were you to deny that cute face? You slipped your fingers out completely, hearing him whine at the loss. You grabbed his chin and worked at the buttons on his shirt while kissing him feverishly. Once his shirt was open, you loosened his tie completely before pulling away. You swiftly slipped your own shirt off your body, allowing Malleus to drink in the sight of your bare upper body.

“Get up onto the altar,” you breathed into his ear, feeling your self-control on the verge of snapping as he shivered from the warm air. He easily climbed onto the spacious expanse of the stone slab, with you following. Using your hand to press him down until he leaned back onto his back, you grabbed his tie. You deftly pinned his wrists above his head, tying them firmly but not reducing any of his circulation.

“What are you-” Malleus’ question was interrupted by your sweet kiss to the side of his mouth.

“Let me take care of you,” your voice was hushed as you trailed kisses across his chest, using your fingers to play with his nipples. He let out a strangled moan at the new stimulation, driving him closer and closer to the brink. Before he could use it to get off, you pulled away with that teasing smile. Damn you.

Your eyes never left his as you leaned in above him, and all he could do was shut his eyes as he felt your dick rub against his. The friction was unbearably agonising; every time he tried to buck his hips upwards, you’d laugh and push his hips back down, before kissing his chest once again.

With a final kiss, you slipped the tie off his wrists. Malleus was left blinking at this sudden change in attitude, before you entered inside of him and he swore he saw stars. His back arched at the intrusion and you greedily drank in the sight. His unrestrained moans were like a heavenly choir to your ears. He was right, the acoustics were unparalleled here.

Transfixed, you gazed at your dick entering him again and again. The sound of skin on skin, of his moans and of the wet sloshing sounds was growing too much to handle. Your eyes half-closed in the pure bliss you were beginning to approach.

Malleus’ mouth was half-open with pleasure, his mouth leaking drool. His eyes were glassy with pleasure, and you knew his time was fast approaching. Your hands deftly angled his hips so your dick would slam into his prostate dead on. With the first collision, his back arched and hole tightened around you.

White ropes of cum shot from his dick, splattering torso and your abdomen. Malleus let out a string of broken moans as he climaxed, the overstimulation from your constant well-timed thrusts causing tears to leave his eyes.

“Just a few moments longer, Malleus,” you leaned over him, supporting yourself on your forearms. His hole fluttering around your dick was slowly driving you to your climax, and that long awaited heaven was going to arrive very soon.

“Please- please don’t stop,” Malleus sobbed out, his claws scraping down your back. The pain made you hiss, but you were interrupted by the wave of pleasure soon after.

“Do you want me to come inside you?” you groaned out next to his ear. “Do you want me to breed you?”

“Please,” Malleus babbled, calling out your name; your vulgar language made his dick stiffen once again. You could feel him beneath you, and your hazy mind registered this with a great deal of surprise. Maybe fae refractory periods were a lot shorter? Regardless, this was something you could definitely work with.

The obscene sounds below you were doing a number on you. Your mind creeped towards that blissful, all-consuming state.

“Please come in me,” Malleus’ words, coupled with your name being moaned out, drove you over the edge. Your mind hazed over as his insides were splattered white. The sensation of your warm fluids inside him drove him to his own climax, and he bit down onto your shoulder.

The sharp tang of your blood and the salt of your sweat made his dick twitch, before releasing more ropes of cum. His moans were mixed with incoherent babbling and praises, which only added to your blissful state. You were only distantly aware of the throbbing pain in your shoulder, which also quickly gave way to an overwhelming pleasure.

Your hips came to a slow stop. Malleus’ hands grasped the nape of your neck and he pulled you in for a heated, sloppy kiss, still rocking his hips on your overstimulated dick, milking you for all you were worth.

“Fuck, Malleus,” you moaned into his mouth as he greedily kept the friction going. Your mind felt as if it were about to break from the pleasure, though you could last a while longer if he still wanted to keep going. You moved your mouth to his horns, licking a strip at the base using the flat of your tongue while he kept rolling his hips.

The obscene moans he was releasing echoed around the stone ruins. You feverishly worked to absolutely reduce him to a mess as you suckled on one of his horns and used your hand to pump up and down for the other one.

You could feel his back arch and his hips stutter to a halt as he came for the fourth and final time. Hot rivulets of cum streamed from his abdomen and pelvis, and down your legs. He wore an absolutely fucked-out expression, with tears streaming from his eyes, swollen lips, and flushed cheeks. His normally sleek hair stuck to his face, strands coated in sweat. You noticed the dried blood, most likely your own, remaining on his fangs as his mouth was parted.

You were sure your expression was also one of fucked-out bliss. You didn’t want to pull out just yet, so you admired his beautiful face as he slowly opened his eyes.

“You were so good for me,” you murmured, using a finger to trace patterns around his nipples and chest. He gently grasped your wrist with a shaky hand and pressed a little kiss to your inner wrist.

“I’m going to pull out,” you whispered to him, rocking back. The friction caused Malleus to let out another moan, and you wished for nothing more than to hear his sounds forever.

Agonisingly slow. That’s the pace in which you moved your hips outward, so you could observe the cum gush out of him. You could only hear heavy panting and breathy moans leave Malleus as your dick slowly exited.

You looked on in ecstasy as you finally exited him completely and a thick, steady stream of cum left his hole. Malleus whined at the loss of your dick filling him up. Almost involuntarily, your fingers scooped up some of the mingling fluids, his and yours, and held them out to his mouth. You almost moaned with how eagerly he lapped up the juices off your fingers.

You slowly made your way off the altar, wincing at the rush of cold air against your bare skin. Picking up the discarded clothes, you were transfixed by the sight of Malleus gazing at you ever so tenderly.

“You were beautiful,” Malleus reached out for your hand, shivering as you took it. Wordlessly, you kissed each of his fingers, then the back of his hand, with his eyes on you the whole time. You could say the same about him, with his pale skin dappled with the radiance of the stained glass, glossed with the sheen of sweat.

“Let’s get cleaned up, shall we?” you helped him sit up and slide down the altar, mourning the soiled altar cloth. A flurry of fireflies is all that remained in the ruins of the cathedral, and even then, they slowly winked out of sight.

The bath at Diasomnia was already drawn for the two of you. How Malleus managed it was beyond you, though it was probably his magic. Regardless, it was a relatively straightforward clean-up.

Tomorrow, when he goes to his lessons, he’ll walk with a slight limp. No one will be any the wiser, save those who notice his carefully ironed collar conceals odd bruising marks.

#malleus draconia #malleus x reader #twst #twst x reader #male reader #gn reader #twst x male reader #amab reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #res ･ﾟ writing

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communicationthroughlyrics · 5 months ago

Text

I Can't Hide The Way I'm Feelin' Pt. 1

You have a propensity for tardiness, and your new interim professor will have none of it.

Reader is Intersex- Smut to 'cum'

A/N: Thanks to @gswha for this request- it's kinda grown a bit so it'll be a two-part affair! We're basing this Nat interaction off of Natalie Rushman, since she was pretty 'professorly' XD

Word Count: 6.4k

"Shit," you mumble to yourself, hopping around your dorm room, trying to get yourself dressed as quickly as you could. Your leg got stuck in the material of your jeans, causing you to fall to the ground with a loud thud as you stared up at the ceiling. "Fuck." You had overslept. Again. But this time, you were late for your Slavic Studies class, and you knew you had a fill-in teacher today. They would be a long-term substitute, something about your primary teacher having a family emergency back in Europe. With luck, you would get a substitute that didn't care- but you knew you weren't that lucky.

As you rushed out of your building, the cold wind slapped you in the face, reminding you that you had forgotten your jacket. You quicken your pace, the chill of autumn making you shiver as you make your way to the lecture hall. The door was open a crack, and you could hear the muffled sounds of the class already in session. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable scolding that awaited you.

You pushed open the door, trying not to make it creak as you attempted to sneak into class. Your eyes darted around, finding your best friend, Steve, already in class. He normally looked disinterested, as this was his least favorite class in his schedule this semester, but he seemed to have a newfound excitement surrounding the class. You wondered what had changed, but that question was soon answered when your eyes landed on the figure at the front of the room.

Before the class was a toned figure, her curves accentuated by the black dress she was wearing. Her burnished copper hair was done in waves, cascading down her back, and moving like there was a gentle breeze through the lecture hall. Her eyes, a piercing shade of green, snapped to you as the door creaked shut. She was the new teacher, Dr. Natasha Romanoff. You had heard whispers about her, rumors of her sharp wit and strict demeanor, but you weren't prepared for the reality of her presence.

The room fell silent, all eyes on you as you stumbled over your own feet trying to get to your seat. Dr. Romanoff's gaze didn't waver, and you felt the weight of her stare like a hand pressing into your chest. She tapped her foot impatiently, the sound echoing through the room like a metronome counting down to your doom.

"Well, don't just stand there," she said, her Russian accent thick and commanding. "Take a seat and don't interrupt my lecture again." You heard a few snickers, and quickly made your way to sit next to Steve, the look on his face a mixture of amusement and cockiness.

Dr. Romanoff went back to her lesson, her voice firm and knowledgeable as she discussed the historical significance of the Cyrillic alphabet. You tried to focus, but your mind kept wandering as you watched the woman down below. Steve leaned over and whispered, "You really know how to make an impression." You shot him a glare, but his smirk only grew wider.

You smacked his forearm, a dull thud echoing throughout the silent hall. "Shut up, Steve," you whisper-yell at him, the thud again drawing the attention of your new temporary professor.

"Is my lecture disrupting you two?" Dr. Romanoff's sharp gaze swiveled from Steve to you. The room was so quiet you could almost hear the pages of the textbooks rustling with the tension.

"No, ma'am," Steve said quickly, his smirk replaced by a look of contrition. You nodded in agreement, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"No, Professor Romanoff." you echo, looking down at your books.

"Good," she turned back to the board, scribbling a few more things. "Oh, and Ms..." she turned around, her attention directed right at you.

"Y/N. My name is Y/N."

"Right, Ms. Y/N. I know you missed the beginning of class," she began, walking to the end of the riser that she was on down below. "But I go by Dr. Romanoff." She leaned against the podium, folding her arms across her chest. "I expect punctuality from all my students. This is not a high school hallway, this is a place of higher learning. I'm sure you can appreciate the difference, yes?"

You nodded, swallowing down the embarrassment. Steve was shaking with suppressed laughter next to you, and you shot him another glare.

"If you can't respect the rules of the classroom," Dr. Romanoff continued, her eyes boring into yours, "then maybe you don't belong in this class."

The sniggers echoed across the classroom, as your peers stifled thier laughter. The heat in your cheeks grew into a full-blown blush, spreading down to your neck. You knew Dr. Romanoff's words were a warning shot, and you weren't going to let it get to you. If she was going to call you out, you would make her regret taking this class on.

But as the day rolled into night, you found yourself back in your usual routine. Your friends dragged you out to the local college bar, the smell of stale beer and sweat already wafting through the door. You knew you should keep it light tonight since you had an early class tomorrow, which was your Slavic Studies course. But one drink turned into two, and before you knew it, you were three sheets to the wind. You woke up with a snoring, drooling mess of a woman naked on your chest.

Her hair was a tangled mess of blond, and she had the name of the bar inked on her lower back. You couldn't even remember her name. She was beautiful in the drunken haze of the night before, but in the harsh light of day, she looked like a college freshman who had gone wild on spring break. You gently peeled her off, noticing the time on the clock that read 9 AM.

"Fuck," you whispered, jumping out of bed and shoving your feet into your shoes. You had five minutes to get to class, and your head felt like it was going to implode. The room spun as you stumbled around, trying to grab your bag and jacket. The girl stirred, rubbing her eyes and looking around, bewildered.

"You're leaving?" she slurred, her voice thick with sleep.

"Yeah," you said, trying to sound nonchalant as you threw on your shirt. "I've got class."

The blond girl frowned, sitting up and crossing her arms. "Can't you just skip it?"

"Not if I want to pass," you replied, zipping up your jeans. "Besides, it's Slavic Studies with Dr. Romanoff. She's not the type to let you slide."

"Oh, the hottie professor," the girl said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Can't miss that."

You rolled your eyes, pulling on your shoes. "It's not like that," you mumbled, grabbing your keys and phone from the nightstand. "It's just that she's really strict. You can see yourself out, right...." you waited, not remembering the girl's name.

She rolled her eyes, standing up in her bare glory in the middle of your room. "I should have known you wouldn't remember a thing," she said, snatching her dress from the floor. "Figures you'd be that one."

Ignoring her, you dashed out of the room, the cool air outside a stark contrast to the warmth of the bed you had just vacated. You had never been so late for a class before, and the thought of facing Dr. Romanoff's wrath made your stomach twist into knots. Your feet pounded against the pavement as you sprinted towards the lecture hall, your heart racing in your chest. You weren't sure if you wanted to push her buttons, but yet, here you are doing just that.

You burst through the doors of the lecture hall, sweat beading on your forehead and your breath coming in gasps. The room was eerily quiet, the students all staring at you, and in the front, Dr. Romanoff had her arms crossed over her chest, her expression a storm of annoyance and anger.

"I see punctuality is not a concept you are familiar with, Ms. Y/N," she said, her voice as sharp as a knife. The class tittered again, and you felt your cheeks burn as she called you out. You took your seat, trying to ignore the snickers and smirks of your classmates. Steve was even stifling his laughter.

The lecture continued, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn't focus on the intricate history of Eastern European linguistics when all you could think about was the woman in front of you. She was a force to be reckoned with, and you had never been one to back down from a challenge. You felt a strange thrill at the thought of pushing her buttons, of seeing how far you could take this game of cat and mouse.

Your mind drifted to picturing that red hair in a flaming halo around her head as she lay sprawled out on your bed, or what her raspy, thick accent would sound like moaning in your ear as you pounded into her. You felt a twitch in your pants and quickly shifted in your seat, hoping no one had noticed. Steve's elbow dug into your side, and you snapped your head towards him, only to find him grinning like he knew exactly what you were thinking.

"Earth to Y/N," Steve whispered, jolting you out of your trance. "You okay over there?"

You shot him a glare, trying to keep your face from giving away the embarrassing direction of your thoughts. "I'm fine," you hissed, turning back to the front of the class. Dr. Romanoff was still speaking, her eyes scanning the room as if daring someone to interrupt her again.

For the next few weeks, you managed to show up to class on time twice, but the rest of the days were a blur of oversleeping, forgetting your homework, and stumbling in late with a hangover. Each time, Dr. Romanoff's displeasure grew more palpable, her eyes narrowing at your disheveled state. You found yourself drawn to her, the challenge of getting under her skin becoming a thrilling game that you couldn't resist. The tension in the room was thick, a silent battle of wills that had the rest of the class either avoiding eye contact or eagerly awaiting the next confrontation.

One rainy afternoon, you sauntered into class, drenched from head to toe, your hair sticking to your face. You had been at the bar the night before, trying to dull the pain of your latest failed relationship. Dr. Romanoff's gaze followed you like a spotlight as you shuffled to your seat, the sound of your soggy shoes leaving wet prints on the floor.

"Is there a reason you feel the need to make such a grand entrance every day, Ms. Y/N?" she called out, her tone icy.

"I do it just to get your attention, Professor Romanoff," you emphasize the 'professor', saying it just to dig at her a little bit more.

Her eyebrow quirks up at your remark, but she doesn't respond. Instead, she turns back to the board, her hand gracefully writing out the day's lecture notes. The class shifts uncomfortably, the energy in the room charged with the unspoken tension between you two. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at getting a reaction out of her, even if it was just a minor one.

Days turned into weeks, and your little game of rebellion became the norm. You would show up late, sometimes smelling faintly of the bar, your eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, and she would give you that look—a mix of annoyance and something else you couldn't quite place. You knew you were pushing her buttons, and it was thrilling. Each time she called on you, you would give a half-hearted answer, just enough to get by, watching the frustration build in her eyes.

But as the days grew shorter and the leaves turned a fiery hue, Dr. Romanoff's patience grew thinner. One particularly dreary afternoon, you stumbled in, your breath reeking of last night's tequila, your eyes glued to your phone as you took your seat. The room was silent except for the steady patter of rain outside.

"Ms. Y/N, may I have your attention, please?" she said, her voice slicing through the air like a knife. You looked up, noticing the rest of the class had already settled in, their eyes on you. You felt a flash of annoyance, but also something else—desire. You had never been the rebellious type, but Dr. Romanoff brought it out in you.

You set your phone down with a clatter, smirking. "Sorry, Professor. Did I miss anything important?”

Her eyes narrowed, and you could see the muscles in her jaw tense. "Only your own dignity," she quipped, her Russian accent rolling off the words like a purr. The class snickered again, and you felt your cheeks burn with humiliation. But you weren't about to let her win.

"Is there something you'd like to share with the class, Dr. Romanoff?" you asked, playing coy. You knew you were playing with fire, but you couldn't help yourself. The thrill of the chase was too exhilarating to resist. Steve elbowed you in the side, making you let out a small grunt.

Her eyes narrowed even further, the storm clouds in her gaze hinting at the tempest brewing beneath her calm exterior. "No, Ms. Y/N, but I believe it's time we had a little chat after class."

The words hung in the air, electric with promise. You felt a mix of dread and anticipation, your heart racing in your chest. You had pushed her to her limits, and now you were about to face the consequences. The lecture dragged on, each second feeling like an eternity as you waited for the moment you'd be alone with her.

Finally, the bell rang, and the room emptied out, leaving only the faint echoes of retreating footsteps and the soft patter of rain outside. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation to come. Dr. Romanoff was still at the podium, her eyes never leaving yours as she packed up her things.

"Ms. Y/N," she called out, her voice as sharp as the click of her heels against the floor as she approached. "I've had enough of your disrespectful behavior. It's time you learned the importance of punctuality and respect."

You met her gaze, your heart racing as you felt a strange thrill at the promise of retribution. "What are you going to do, Professor?" you challenged, your voice steady despite the tremor in your hands.

"I'm going to teach you a lesson you won't forget," she said, her voice low and dangerous. She gestured towards the door at the end of the classroom. "Follow me."

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of fear and excitement as you followed her into the empty hallway. The door to her office was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open, revealing a small, neatly organized space filled with the scent of old books and something faintly metallic. The rain outside had picked up, drumming against the windows like a serenade to your impending doom.

"Take a seat," she ordered, pointing to the chair in front of her desk. You obeyed, your legs feeling like jelly as you sat down. She closed the door with a firm click, and the room seemed to shrink around you. She moved around the desk, heels clicking as her hips swayed in a way that was both mesmerizing and intimidating.

"You've been testing my patience," she began her voice a soft caress that belied the sternness in her eyes. "It seems like you are a bit..." She paused, her gaze drilling into yours. "Distracted."

Your heart raced as you sat there, trying to come up with a witty comeback, but your mouth was as dry as the Sahara. You had never felt so...exposed in front of a teacher before. But there was something about the way she was looking at you that made you feel like she saw right through your bravado.

"I know college is a time for fun," Dr. Romanoff continued, her voice taking on a softer, almost...understanding tone. "But it is also a time for growth and learning. And your behavior suggests to me that you are not taking any of this seriously."

You opened your mouth to protest, but she held up a hand, silencing you. "Don't bother with excuses. I've heard them all before. Instead, I'm going to give you a chance to redeem yourself."

Her gaze was unyielding, and you felt a strange sense of anticipation. "I'm listening," you said, leaning back in the chair, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Good," she said, walking over to the bookshelf and pulling out a thick, leather-bound tome. "You will be staying after your last class every day this week to help me organize the library. And," she added, turning back to face you with the book in hand, "you will be completing all assignments due in the next two weeks by the end of the week. Along with showing up 10 minutes early to class."

Your jaw dropped at the severity of her punishment. "But-"

"No buts," she cut you off, her eyes flashing with a fiery determination. "You want to act like a child, I'll treat you like one. Now, get to work." She settled a stack of books into your lap, leaning back against her desk.

You took the books she handed you, feeling the weight of thier pages and the gravity of her expectations. The smell of leather and dust filled your nose as you looked down at the title of the first book: 'The Historical Significance of Slavic Mythology'. This was going to be a long week.

"But what if I don't finish in time?" You asked, the challenge in your voice clear.

Dr. Romanoff's smile was a sharp line. "Then you'll learn the value of time management," she said, her eyes sparkling with a hint of something that looked suspiciously like amusement. "But I suspect you'll rise to the occasion, Ms. Y/N. After all, I've seen the potential in you."

You scoffed internally at the idea of potential. You were just trying to get through the semester with decent grades and not too many awkward run-ins with your ex. But something in her tone made you want to prove her wrong. Or maybe it was the way she said your name, the way her accent rolled over the syllables that made your stomach flip.

You took the books and trudged out of the classroom, feeling the weight of her gaze on your back. The rain had picked up, soaking your clothes and making you shiver. As you walked to the library, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of anger and excitement. You had never had a teacher who had affected you like this before. She was like a force of nature, and you had no idea how to navigate the storm she had just thrown you into.

The library was a quiet sanctuary, the only sounds were the occasional rustle of pages and the dull murmur of the rain outside. You found a secluded corner and began to organize the books, your mind racing with thoughts of Dr. Romanoff. Her stern demeanor was a stark contrast to the way she had looked at you, something in her eyes hinting at a deeper curiosity, a challenge that you hadn't quite figured out yet.

As you began to slot the leather-bound textbooks back into thier locations, the stark click of heels soon followed you into the library. Dr. Romanoff had slipped into a long black trench coat, shaking off an umbrella as she walked around to the back of the librarian's counter. She leaned against it, watching you with a curious expression, the material of her dress hugging her figure in a way that made you swallow hard.

"Ms. Y/N," she called out, her voice echoing through the vast, silent room. "You're going to need to focus if you want to get all of this done in time."

You glared at her over the stack of books, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Working on it," you muttered, trying not to let your annoyance show.

"Good," she said, her eyes scanning the rows of books. "Remember, Ms. Y/N, this isn't just busywork. It's an opportunity for you to show me that you're capable of taking responsibility for your actions."

You bit your tongue, resisting the urge to snap back. Instead, you focused on the task at hand, meticulously placing each book in its rightful spot. Hours passed, and the library grew darker as the rain outside turned into a full-blown storm. The only light was the dim glow of the pendant lamps that hung from the high ceiling, casting eerie shadows across the bookshelves.

"Is this really necessary?" you complained, your voice echoing slightly in the vast space. "I'm going to be here all night."

"Well, if you're here all night, I guess you can't be whoring yourself around at the campus bars." Dr. Romanoff's voice was as sharp as the crack of thunder outside. You whipped your head around, glaring at her.

"Excuse me?"

Dr. Romanoff didn't flinch at your outrage. She leaned over the counter, her elbows resting on the cool wood as she studied you. "I know your type, Ms. Y/N. You think you're above this all, that you can just skate by without any real effort." She paused, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "But I see through your facade."

Her words stung, and you felt a surge of anger at her accusation. "You don't know me," you snapped, slamming a book down on the counter. "You're just a teacher, not my mother."

Dr. Romanoff's smile grew wider, as if she enjoyed your defiance. "And yet, I see more of you than you think," she said, her voice dropping to a murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. "I see the potential, the intelligence, buried beneath your carelessness. Maybe you should quit acting like a child, and I wouldn't have to watch you like your mother."

You felt your cheeks burn with indignation. "I don't need a babysitter," you spat out, crossing your arms over your chest.

"No, you don't," she agreed, her eyes still piercing into yours. "But what you do need is discipline."

You rolled your eyes, but something in her tone made you pause. There was a command there, one that resonated deep within you, stirring a part of you that you had buried under layers of carefree college debauchery.

"Is that what you think you're doing?" you asked, trying to keep the anger out of your voice. "Disciplining me?" You set the books down, stalking over to the counter she was leaning against.

Her eyes never left yours as she straightened up. "Maybe that's what you need," she said, her voice low and measured. "Someone to push you to be better than you are. Someone to show you that you can't just glide through life without consequences."

You scoff at her implication. "Yeah, right, Romanoff. That'll show me."

Her expression turns serious. "It's Dr. Romanoff to you, and I mean every word."

You leaned forward, inching your face closer to hers. You were taken aback slightly by the appearance of slight freckles on her face, and how deep her eyes truly were. "You think you can just tell me what to do and I'll listen?" You challenged, your voice low and steady.

Her gaze never wavered. "If you want to pass my class, yes," she said firmly. "But I suspect it's more than that. You crave structure and guidance. Perhaps even...punishment."

"Well, Dr. Romanoff, I would like to see you try." You said, your voice was full of bravado. You were tired of her judgments and her constant needling. You were an adult, capable of making your own choices. You pretended to not notice her breath hitching slightly, and her pupils dilating at your challenge.

"Very well," she said, straightening up. "If you wish to push this, I will give you a taste of what you're asking for." She stepped around the counter, and for a moment, you felt a twinge of fear. But then she opened the drawer and pulled out a stack of index cards. "These are the dates and times of all the assignments due in the next two weeks. You will write them down, and I will check in on your progress every day after class."

You took the cards with trembling hands, the weight of her expectations suddenly feeling very real. "Is this really necessary?" you asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out of your voice.

"You want to see me try, then this is what you asked for, Y/N. And if you still feel the need to spend the night in between someone's legs while blitzed out of your mind, and show up late to class, you will really, truly feel the weight of the consequences of your actions." Her eyes bore into yours, and you felt the challenge in her words.

You turned, walking towards the exit as she called back to you. "Ms. Y/N?" she called out over the books on the counter. You stopped your hand on the doorknob. "Don't forget, I expect to see you promptly in the morning. And don't forget, all those assignments will be double credit whether you do them or not."

Her words hung in the air as you stormed out, the rain now coming down in sheets. Did you feel a strange mix of anger and...excitement? The thought of her waiting for you, watching your every move, was surprisingly thrilling. You didn't know if you were more annoyed at her for making you feel this way or at yourself for letting her get to you. But, if you complete all these assignments with a decent enough grade, you may not have to step foot in her class the rest of the semester.

The next day, you show up to class early, a miracle in itself. After the night you had, drinking yourself into a stupor, and banging some random in the bar bathroom. You groan as you sit in the same seat, feeling the dread of Dr. Romanoffs arrival like a tight coil in your stomach. When she walks in, she doesn't even look at you, but you know she's aware of your presence. You're determined to prove her wrong, to show her that you can handle the work, that you don't need her to babysit you.

The week passes in a blur of early mornings and late nights, your eyes glued to textbooks and your hand cramped from writing notes. You're surprised to find that you're actually learning something, that the Slavic myths and histories are more interesting than you had ever given them credit for. But every time you start to feel a sense of pride in your work, you remember her words—how you're just doing this to avoid her wrath.

On Friday afternoon, you drag yourself into the library, the anticipation of the weekend a distant mirage. Dr. Romanoff is already there, her office light shining like a beacon in the otherwise empty room. She looks up as you approach, her expression unreadable.

"Did you complete the assignments?" she asks, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

"No, I've been running myself ragged for my own entertainment," you reply, sarcasm thick in your voice as you dump the completed assignments on her desk. She takes them without a word, flipping through each page with a critical eye. The tension in the room is palpable, making it difficult to breathe. You can't tell if she's impressed or if she's just biding her time before delivering the next round of punishment.

Her eyes finally meet yours, and you see a flicker of something else. "You've done well," she says, her voice devoid of any warmth, her eyes running up and down your frame. "But this isn't over. I will grade these tonight. But, your behavior in class needs to improve."

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. You felt a strange sense of accomplishment, but also a weird anticipation for what she had in store for you next. "What do you want from me?" you ask, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

"Nothing," she says, her voice cold as ice. "Except for you to start acting like an adult. Your education is not a game to be played with. Have a good weekend, Y/N."

You leave the library feeling both relieved and disappointed. You hadn't realized how much you had been looking forward to the confrontation, the way her sternness made you feel...alive. As you walk back to your dorm, the rain has stopped, leaving the world feeling fresh and clean. You decide to take the long way home, needing the time to clear your head. The less-than-holy thoughts that had been running through your mind about the woman had been all-consuming, and lately, they had begun to affect your... performance with others.

Your Friday night comes and goes, a blur of partying and regret, but you can't shake the feeling that Dr. Romanoff's punishment has changed something within you. You find yourself craving the structure she had imposed, the way she had made you feel...seen.

Saturday was more of the same, you woke up around midday, and your head was a pounding reminder of how you spent your Friday night. The silence of your room was broken by the incessant buzzing of your phone. It was Steve, asking if you were going to make it to the party tonight. You groaned, wondering if your body could take another night like last night.

You rolled out of bed and stumbled to the shower, you couldn't help but think about Dr. Romanoff. Her eyes had been haunting what little dreams you had been having the last week, a mix of curiosity and desire swirling in your subconscious. You felt a strange sense of excitement at the prospect of seeing her again, of feeling her gaze on you in class. You shake your head, trying to dislodge the thoughts. Your efforts were futile, however, and your thoughts soon trailed down a dark and dirty path.

You couldn't help the arousal that coursed through your veins at the thought of your professor begging for her punishment, instead of being the one to dish it out. The water cascading over your body did little to cool the heat that had built up within you. As your shower continued, you began to stroke your length, imagining what it would feel like to sheath yourself inside her. The way she would grip the edge of the desk, her knuckles turning white as she took your punishment with every thrust.

You groaned, the water now turning cold, as you reached your climax. The image of her, begging for more, was burned into your mind as you stepped out of the shower. You had to get dressed and get out of there before you did something stupid, like go to her office and bend her over the desk she so often chastised you behind.

You had never had a teacher affect you so deeply, and it was driving you crazy. You tried to shake the thoughts as you got dressed, but they lingered like the scent of her perfume in the library. The party was in full swing by the time you arrived, the bass thumping through the walls and the air thick with the smell of cheap beer and sweat. Steve was already there, his arm around some girl you didn't recognize.

"Hey, you made it!" he shouted over the music, a grin on his face. You nodded, trying to push aside the thoughts of Dr. Romanoff. You grabbed a beer and let yourself be pulled into the sea of bodies, dancing and shouting. The party was the same as every other one, but you felt...different. More aware, more alive. The way you had felt in the library, under her watchful gaze. You continued to drown your thoughts, trying to wash them out of your mind completely.

Losing count of how many drinks and shots you had, you stumbled past the various half-clothed couples making out, the drunken antics, and party games as you made your way out the door of the house you were at. The cold night air slapped you in the face, an attempt by Mother Nature to sober you up a bit as you walked back towards your dorm. You couldn't get the image of Dr. Romanoff out of your head, even amidst the chaos. Deciding that you didn't want to face your dorm just yet, you meandered your way to an off-campus bar up the road.

Inside, the warmth of the bar was a stark contrast to the cold outside, and the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke was oddly comforting. You found a quiet corner and slumped into a chair, ordering a whiskey neat. The bartender, a burly man with a thick beard, gave you a knowing look but said nothing as he slid the drink over to you. You took a sip, the burn of the liquor doing little to numb the arousal you felt about your teacher.

As you sat there, the whiskey warming your belly, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched. You glanced over your shoulder, expecting to see Dr. Romanoff standing there with a disapproving look, but it was just the usual college crowd, too absorbed in their own drama to notice you. But the feeling remained as if her eyes were on you even when they weren't. You continued to drink, your eyes darting around the room until you finished.

"Well, I wish I could say I'm surprised to see you here," a familiar, smoky voice came from behind you. You whipped around, and there she was, Dr. Natasha Romanoff, in a pair of tight black jeans and a leather jacket that hugged her body in all the right places. She took a seat next to you, her eyes never leaving yours.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, trying to keep the shock out of your voice.

"I might ask you the same question, Ms. Y/N," she replied, her voice filled with a hint of amusement. "This is hardly the place for someone who's supposed to be studying."

You felt your cheeks heat up at the rebuke, but she wasn't wrong. You took another sip of your whiskey, the liquid burning a path down your throat. "I needed to try and erase some thoughts," you mumbled, not quite meeting her gaze.

Dr. Romanoff leaned in closer, her eyes searching yours. "Thoughts about what?" she asked, her voice dropping to a murmur that seemed to resonate through your entire body. She slowly slid in next to you, her glass sliding on the table before you.

You swallowed hard, the alcohol doing little to ease the sudden dryness in your throat. "Just...about someone I'm trying to forget," you lied, hoping the dim light of the bar would hide your blush. "They're a bit...intense, and out of my league."

Dr. Romanoff's smile was knowing. "Intense, huh?" she said, her voice low and teasing. "Sounds like a challenge you're not quite ready to handle." She leaned closer, her floral perfume slowly overtaking your senses. "But I suspect you enjoy the thrill of the chase."

"Yeah, I do, at times." You replied, the whiskey loosening your tongue. "But sometimes the chase isn't worth it." You took another sip, trying to keep your cool. Her proximity was unnerving, and the way she leaned into you made it difficult to think straight.

"Is that so?" She leaned back in her chair, her eyes never leaving yours. "And what makes you think you're not capable of handling something intense? From what I have overheard, it sounds like you're...very, capable." The way she said "capable" had your heart racing, and you knew she wasn't just talking about schoolwork anymore.

You tried to play it cool, shrugging nonchalantly. "I can handle myself," you said, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. You couldn't help but feel a thrill at her interest, her curiosity about you. "But sometimes, I just want to cool my jets, you know?"

Her gaze was piercing, as if she could see right through your bravado. "I know all about wanting to cool off," she said, her voice taking on a seductive tone that sent a shiver down your spine. "But sometimes, the heat is what makes us grow."

You didn't know how to respond to that, so you took another gulp of your whiskey, the liquid burning a path down your throat. She leaned in even closer, her breath hot against your ear. "But if you truly want to escape your troubles, I can offer you something that might help."

Her hand reached out and brushed against yours, sending a bolt of electricity through your body. You felt your pulse quicken, your heart hammering in your chest. "What are you talking about?" you managed to ask, your voice hoarse.

"Well, Y/N," she began, her voice low, not helping your brain try to forget what she may sound like in bed. "I will miss seeing you in the library, helping me out." She took a sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving yours. "Maybe if you can show up on time, I can help you out."

Your thoughts raced. Did she just offer you a deal? Did she just flirt with you? "What do you mean?" You asked, trying to play it cool, even though your heart was racing.

"Well, Y/N, you'll just have to wait and find out." Dr. Romanoff's smile was enigmatic, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. She leaned back in her chair, the leather squeaking slightly as she put some distance between you. "I'll see you on Monday, Y/N." she winked before she got up, leaving you sitting there, dumbfounded.

The weekend dragged on, filled with a mix of anticipation and dread. Monday couldn't come soon enough, yet you wished it would never arrive. You found yourself both terrified and thrilled by the prospect of what she had in store for you. You tried to distract yourself with friends and more partying, but the thoughts of her kept creeping back in, unbidden and unwelcome.

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roseyly · 3 months ago

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𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 - 𝙻𝙷𝚂

Pairing: Older!Heeseung x Younger!reader genre: angst, stangers to friends to lovers to stangers again. Warnings: Smut, angst, hee being an asshole Synopsis: Y/N, an 18-year-old university student, was immersed in her studies until she met Heeseung, a confident 26-year-old. Their friendship quickly deepened, and Y/N found herself captivated by his kindness and charm. At first, the age difference didn’t matter, as their connection felt effortless. But over time, Heeseung grew more distant, and Y/N began to feel the weight of their age gap. She cherished their memories but wondered if their lives were too different to bridge. Could they rekindle their connection, or was it time to accept that their paths might lead them in separate directions? Note: This was inspired by All too well by Taylor swift.

—The start we tell

I was 18 when I first met Heeseung. He was 26, a graduate student at the prestigious university in our city. I was a freshman, wide-eyed and full of dreams. Our paths crossed at the library, a place I frequented to escape the noise and chaos of campus life. He was engrossed in a book, his face etched with concentration. I was drawn to him, his quiet intensity, the way he seemed so lost in his own world.

“May I sit here?” I asked, pointing to the empty seat next to him.

He looked up, his eyes widening slightly. “Sure,” he replied, his voice soft.

We started talking, and it was like we’d known each other forever. He was intelligent, witty, and kind. He had a way of making me feel seen and understood. Our conversations were endless, spanning from philosophy to pop culture. I was captivated by his mind, his passion for life.

“You’re really smart,” I told him one day after we had been discussing a particularly complex topic.

He smiled. “Thanks. You’re not too bad yourself."

One chilly afternoon, the library was quieter than usual. Heeseung suggested we grab some coffee from the campus café. As we walked side by side, the brisk air wrapped around us, and I couldn’t help but steal glances at him. The way he brushed his hair from his forehead, the spark in his eyes—it made my heart race.

“Do you think people are more interesting in books or in real life?” he asked as we settled into a corner of the café with our steaming mugs.

“Real life, definitely,” I replied, leaning forward. “Books are great, but nothing beats the unpredictability of a real conversation.”

Heeseung chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “You make a compelling argument.”

As we talked and laughed, I noticed the way his gaze lingered on me, a softness that made my heart flutter.

One evening, as we were leaving the library, a light drizzle began to fall. Heeseung instinctively held out his arm, offering me his jacket.

“Here, take this,” he said, wrapping it around my shoulders.

The fabric smelled like him—warm and comforting. I could feel his body heat radiating from it, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

“Thanks,” I murmured, glancing up at him.

He was looking at me, his expression a mix of concern and admiration. “I didn’t want you to get cold.”

Our eyes locked, and I felt a rush of warmth spread through me. It was then that I realized—I was falling for him.

One night, we found ourselves studying together in my dorm room. The stress of exams hung heavy in the air, but as we sat on the floor surrounded by books, something shifted between us. I leaned back against the wall, letting out a sigh.

“Why do you put so much pressure on yourself?” Heeseung asked, concern lacing his voice.

“I just want to do well,” I replied, trying to hide my insecurities.

He shifted closer, our shoulders brushing against each other. “You’re already doing great. Just remember to take care of yourself too.”

His words, simple yet profound, pierced through my worries. I turned to look at him, and in that moment, I saw a depth of understanding and care that made my heart swell.

“Thank you, Heeseung,” I whispered, feeling vulnerable.

He met my gaze, and for a heartbeat, I thought he might lean in and kiss me. The tension hung in the air, palpable and intoxicating. But instead, he smiled softly, and we returned to our studies, the moment lingering between us like an unfinished thought.

—The Confession

A few weeks later, we were watching the sunset from the rooftop of my dorm. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, and as I leaned against the railing, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. Heeseung stood next to me, his presence grounding.

“I wish I could capture this moment,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to me, his expression serious. “You know, some moments are meant to be felt, not captured.”

I glanced at him, my heart racing. “What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath, as if weighing his words carefully. “I mean… some moments define us. Like this one. I’ve been feeling something for a while now, and I can’t ignore it anymore.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “I think I’m falling for you.”

I felt a rush of emotion—a mix of disbelief and exhilaration. “Heeseung, I—”

Before I could finish, he continued, “I know there’s an age difference, and I know we started as friends, but you’ve become so important to me. I can’t help how I feel.”

His honesty swept over me like a tidal wave, and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “I feel the same way.”

A smile broke across his face, and in that moment, everything fell into place.

—One Night at His Apartment

One evening, we sat by the fireplace in Heeseung's cozy apartment, the atmosphere thick with unspoken feelings. The crackling flames cast dancing shadows on our faces. We were laughing, recounting the first night we had spent together, our early days when everything felt so pure and full of possibility.

“Do you ever feel like there's something more between us?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper, seeking reassurance that the love I thought we shared was still there.

Heeseung hesitated. His heart seemed to pound in the tense silence, but he finally responded, “I do. I think I've been feeling it for a while now.”

Relief washed over me, and we spent the rest of the night together, locked in a moment that felt perfect. We danced in the kitchen, the refrigerator light blinking rhythmically, casting a soft, hypnotic glow over the room. The music wasn’t playing, but we moved as if it was—slow, deliberate, as if we had all the time in the world.

*“There we are again in the middle of the night, we’re dancing ‘round the kitchen in the refrigerator light…”*

His hands were warm as they gently held mine, pulling me closer to him. The way he looked at me, with so much tenderness, made me feel as though nothing else mattered. He kissed me softly, and I kissed him back, our movements becoming more intense as desire built between us.

“I’m ready, Heeseung. I want you too.”

He leaned in, his lips meeting mine in a soft, lingering kiss. I responded eagerly, my hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. Our bodies pressed together, the heat between us growing as our kiss deepened.

Suddenly, Heeseung pulled away, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Y/N, I don't want to rush this. I want to take my time and make sure you're comfortable."

I nodded, feeling a shiver of anticipation run down my spine. "I trust you, Heeseung. I know you'll take care of me."

Heeseung began to kiss my neck, making his way down to my breasts. He took one nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and causing me to moan with pleasure. His hand continued to stroke my other breast, and I could feel my arousal building. He leaned in again, his lips finding mine once more. This time, his kiss was more urgent, more demanding. I moaned, feeling his tongue slip between my lips as he explored my mouth.

As we kissed, Heeseung's hands began to wander, caressing my body through my clothes.

Heeseung's hand moved down between my legs, and he began to stroke my clit. I was already so wet, and I could feel myself getting close.

"I want to taste you, Y/N," Heeseung said, his voice low and husky.

He pulled off my pants and my panties and spread my legs wide. He leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste me. I moaned, my hips bucking up as he began to lick and suck my clit.

Heeseung's fingers slipped inside me, and he began to fuck me with them. It felt incredible, and I could feel my orgasm building.

"Heeseung, I want to taste you too," I said, my voice breathless.

“Fuck baby, you don’t have too” Heeseung said, groaning.

I sat up, pushing him down onto the bed. I pulled down his pants, freeing his hard cock. I leaned down, and said “I want to” taking him into my mouth. I could taste his precum, and it only made me want him more.

I sucked and stroked his cock, feeling him grow harder in my mouth. He moaned, his hands tangling in my hair as I bobbed my head up and down.

"Fuck, Y/N," he gasped, his hips bucking up.

I pulled back, stroking his cock with my hand. I could feel him getting close to the edge. He groaned, his hips bucking up as he came and got a tissue. “You can spit it out here baby,” he said. I swallowed it, swallowing every drop of his cum. and let my tongue out to let him see it. “Holy sh*t, baby, you swallowed it? ”He said. I nodded and said, “I wanted to taste you.” "Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” he said, groaning. Heeseung's hand moved lower, down to my pussy again. He slipped his fingers inside, groaning as he felt how wet I was.

"You're so ready for me, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with awe.

I nodded, biting my lip as he began to stroke my clit. It felt amazing.

"Heeseung, please," I begged, feeling my orgasm building.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Y/N?" he asked, his voice strained with desire.

"Yes, please, Heeseung. I want you inside me."

He didn't need any more encouragement. Heeseung pulled out a condom and put it on,

He pushed inside, filling me up completely. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders as he began to thrust."Are you ready, Y/N?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

I nodded, biting my lip as I felt him position himself at my entrance. He pushed inside, slowly and gently. I moaned as I felt him fill me up, my hips bucking up to meet his. It felt incredible, better than anything I had ever imagined. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me.

"Harder, Heeseung," I begged, my voice hoarse with desire. His movements were slow and deliberate. He looked into my eyes, and I could see the desire burning in his gaze.

He began to thrust, slowly at first, then faster and harder. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me.

"You feel amazing, Y/N," Heeseung gasped, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

I moaned, my nails digging into his back as I felt my orgasm building.

"Heeseung, I'm going to cum," I gasped, my body tensing up.

"Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice rough with desire.

I did, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave. I screamed his name, my body shaking with pleasure.

Heeseung followed me over the edge, his cock twitching inside me as he came. We collapsed together, panting.

"I love you, Y/N," Heeseung whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.

"I love you too, Heeseung," I replied, smiling up at him. Heeseung rolled over onto his back, pulling me with him. I straddled him, feeling his hard cock brush against my wet folds. I moaned, rocking my hips back and forth.

"Ride me, Y/N," Heeseung commanded, his voice low and husky.

I did, sliding down onto his cock. I moaned as I felt him fill me up, my hips moving back and forth as I rode him.

Heeseung reached up, cupping my breasts in his hands. He teased my nipples, causing me to moan with pleasure.

"Play with yourself, Y/N," Heeseung commanded, his voice rough with desire.

I did, reaching down to stroke my clit. It felt incredible, and I could feel myself getting close to another orgasm.

"Heeseung, I'm going to cum," I gasped, my body tensing up.

"Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice rough with desire.

I did, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave. I screamed his name, my body shaking with pleasure.

Heeseung followed me over the edge, his cock twitching inside me as he came. We collapsed together, panting.

"I love you, Y/N," Heeseung whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.

"I love you too, Heeseung," I replied, smiling up at him.

We lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the fire crackling softly in the background. It was perfect, and I knew that I had found my forever home in Heeseung's arms.

And that night, it felt like we belonged to each other. His touch was gentle but firm, undressing me slowly, savoring each moment. We made love under the dim light of the room, his breath warm against my skin. For those hours, we were everything—wrapped up in each other, free from the world outside.

—The Night I Left My Scarf

It was a chilly evening when I last visited Heeseung’s apartment. We had spent the day wrapped up in each other, laughing and talking, lost in the comfort of our routine. As night fell, the golden light from the setting sun faded, and the warmth of the moment enveloped us.

We had just finished dinner, and Heeseung was washing the dishes while I sat on the counter, swinging my legs playfully. I remember feeling so content, so in love. After a long conversation about our dreams, I slipped off my scarf, a soft, knitted piece that I had worn since the beginning of winter. The scarf had been my comfort on cold days, a piece of home I carried with me.

As the evening wore on, we settled onto the couch, our bodies intertwined. The warmth of his presence made me forget about the world outside. In the midst of our laughter and whispers, I completely forgot to grab my scarf when it was time to leave.

It wasn’t until I was halfway home that I realized it was still there, left behind in his cozy, inviting space. I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of longing and fear. I knew I could easily turn back, but something stopped me. Maybe it was the lingering warmth of our night together or perhaps the instinct that I had to let go of little pieces of the past.

—Us

The days following that night were filled with intimate moments that felt like they were straight out of a dream. There was one afternoon we spent at his apartment. We had just returned from a long walk along the river. The apartment was bathed in golden light from the setting sun. We fell onto the couch together, laughing, as Heeseung’s hand rested on my leg, slowly tracing circles on my skin.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear, whispering, "You’re so beautiful."

His breath was warm against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I turned toward him, our faces only inches apart. Our lips met in a slow, lingering kiss that deepened as he pulled me onto his lap. His hands roamed my back, pulling me closer, and my fingers tangled in his hair as we melted into each other.

We spent the next hour wrapped up in that kiss, stealing breaths between soft murmurs and light touches. His lips moved from my mouth to my jaw, down my neck, each kiss more intoxicating than the last. My heart raced, my skin heating up under his touch. It felt like time stopped when we were together like that, lost in each other, the world outside completely forgotten.

There was a night when we snuck out of a party, not wanting to be around anyone else. We wandered through the quiet streets of the city, hand in hand, until we found a small park, lit only by the soft glow of the moon. We sat on a bench, our bodies close, and I could feel the heat radiating from him.

Heeseung pulled me in, his lips finding mine in the cool night air. The kiss was deep, full of longing, as if he couldn’t get enough of me. My hands ran through his hair, tugging gently as his grip on my waist tightened, pulling me closer. His lips moved down my neck, his breath hot against my skin, sending waves of electricity through my body. We were completely lost in each other, every touch, every kiss igniting the passion between us.

"I love you," he whispered between kisses, his voice husky and filled with desire.

"I love you too," I breathed, barely able to speak as his lips found mine again.

We stayed in that park for hours, kissing under the stars, our bodies entwined, not caring if anyone saw us. It felt like we were the only two people in the world, and in those moments, nothing else mattered.

—But Things Began to Change

One Friday evening, Heeseung invited me to join him and his friends for a game night at his apartment. I was excited at the prospect of spending time with him and hoped it would be a chance to connect with the people in his life. However, as soon as I arrived, I felt a wave of unease wash over me.

Sunghoon was sprawled on the couch, laughing heartily at a joke Jay had just made. Jake was pacing the room, animatedly explaining a recent gaming achievement, while Lia and Luna sat at the dining table, engrossed in a strategy card game. They exchanged inside jokes and laughter that echoed in the room, but I felt like an outsider, standing on the fringes of their world.

Heeseung noticed me lingering by the door, a soft smile on his face. "Hey! Come join us," he called, gesturing for me to sit next to him. I moved toward the couch, but as I settled in, I felt the conversation shift away from me. They began discussing their plans for the weekend, and I found myself struggling to insert myself into the dialogue.

"What about you, Y/N? Any plans?" Sunghoon asked, but the way he said it felt like an afterthought. I felt my cheeks heat up as I glanced at Heeseung, who was laughing at something Jake had just said, his attention fully absorbed in his friends.

"Um, I was thinking of going to that new café," I replied, hoping to spark some interest. The moment hung in the air, and I sensed their eyes drift back to the game.

"Nice! But we have to go back to that escape room we tried last month! It was hilarious when Jay got locked in the closet," Lia chimed in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The group erupted in laughter, and I felt my heart sink. I had missed out on that escape room experience entirely, and now it seemed like an exclusive club that I wasn't a part of.

As the night wore on, the games became more competitive, and I tried to engage with everyone, but it felt like I was chasing shadows. Whenever I attempted to contribute, my words seemed to disappear into the air, overshadowed by the laughter and banter that flowed effortlessly between them. The moments of joy that I had anticipated turned into a stark reminder of my isolation.

"Do you want to play the next round with us?" Luna asked, breaking through my thoughts. I nodded eagerly, hoping this would finally allow me to feel included. But as I joined the game, I realized I was still a step behind. Their jokes flew over my head, and soon I found myself lost in the game’s complexity, while they easily adapted, their camaraderie a stark contrast to my solitude.

After a while, I retreated to the kitchen under the pretense of grabbing a drink. I poured myself some water and leaned against the counter, taking a moment to breathe. I wanted to be part of Heeseung's world, to feel connected to the people who were important to him. But instead, I felt like a shadow, lingering on the outskirts of a vibrant party that I had not been invited to.

When I returned to the living room, Heeseung looked up, his eyes softening when he saw me. "You okay?" he asked, genuine concern etched across his face.

I forced a smile, the ache of loneliness twisting in my chest. "Yeah, just needed a moment," I replied, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tremor in my voice.

But I could tell he was still absorbed in his friends, laughing and joking as if I were invisible. In that moment, I realized just how much I craved his attention and how desperately I needed him to bridge the gap that seemed to widen between us.

Over time, things shifted. The age gap between us started to show more clearly. Heeseung's friends were older, more experienced in life, and their conversations revolved around topics I couldn’t relate to. I was always the youngest in the room, often feeling like I was trying to keep up with conversations that left me feeling out of place.

One evening, we attended a gathering at Jay’s apartment. The atmosphere buzzed with laughter and playful banter as Sunghoon recounted a funny story from their college days. I sat on the couch, feeling like a spectator in a world that didn’t quite include me. Lia and Luna were engrossed in a debate about the latest art exhibit in town, while Jake chimed in with his own opinions. I tried to contribute, mentioning a piece I had seen online, but the conversation quickly shifted back to their shared memories and experiences. I could see it in their eyes—their bond was deep and established, while I was still trying to find my footing.

Heeseung was caught up in the moment, laughing and joking with his friends. I felt a pang of loneliness as I looked around. Their shared laughter rang in my ears, and I couldn't help but feel like an outsider looking in. It stung even more when Sunghoon playfully teased me about my age, and the others joined in with lighthearted jabs.

“Come on, Y/N, you wouldn’t even remember when we first met!” Sunghoon joked, and everyone erupted in laughter. I forced a smile, but inside, I felt smaller with each passing moment.

The more I observed, the more apparent it became how effortlessly they connected. Inside jokes, playful nudges, and the kind of laughter that seemed to echo with memories I wasn’t part of—it all became overwhelming. I tried to push down the ache in my chest, convincing myself it was just a matter of time. But every attempt to break through felt like pushing against a brick wall.

Later that night, as we walked home hand in hand, I couldn’t keep my feelings bottled up any longer. “Heeseung,” I began hesitantly, “I feel like I don’t belong here. Their conversations are so different from mine. I don’t know what to say.”

Heeseung barely looked up from his phone. “I know it’s tough,” he said nonchalantly. “But just be patient. You’ll get used to it.”

It stung—how easily he brushed off my feelings. I tried to ignore the growing sense of loneliness, convincing myself that I had Heeseung, that it was enough. But it wasn’t. I needed him to make an effort to bring me into his world.

"I need you to spend more time with me and my friends," I told him one night, my voice wavering slightly. "I always feel like the odd one out when we’re with yours."

Heeseung hesitated, his brow furrowing. "I don’t want to compromise my friendships," he replied, frustration creeping into his voice. "But I’ll try."

His promise felt hollow, like a band-aid on a wound that needed stitches. I wanted to believe him, but instead, the arguments started. He would say I was too sensitive, that I overreacted. It felt like a pattern—whenever I expressed how I felt, he found a way to turn it back on me, making me doubt myself. Each conversation felt like a step backward, the emotional distance between us growing wider.

The next few weeks were a blur of misunderstandings and silence. I would watch Heeseung interact with his friends, their laughter ringing out like music I couldn’t hear. I longed for him to reach out to me, to acknowledge the invisible line that had formed between us. But instead, I often found myself alone, retreating to my thoughts, wondering if I had somehow lost the connection we once shared.

One evening, sitting on my bed, I scrolled through my phone, watching clips of them having fun together. It felt like a cruel reminder of the joy I was missing. The weight of my feelings crashed down on me, and I found myself questioning everything. Was I not enough? Did I not fit into his world? The more I pondered, the more tears slipped down my cheeks.

*“Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much, but maybe this thing was a masterpiece ‘til you tore it all up…”*

—The Breaking Point

One night, after yet another argument, we were driving in his car, the air thick with tension. I sat in the passenger seat, my chest tightening as the city lights blurred past the window. I was on the verge of tears, my voice shaky as I tried to make sense of what had gone wrong.

"Why are you being like this?" I asked, frustration and hurt bubbling over. "You’ve changed."

Heeseung kept his eyes on the road, barely glancing at me. His silence was deafening, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Finally, he sighed, exasperated. "It’s not that I’ve changed, Y/N. It’s that you’re always making things difficult. Why can’t you just let things go?"

His words cut deep, making me feel like I was the problem—like my feelings were too much, too complicated for him to handle. I turned away, staring out the window, the reflection of the passing streetlights blurring with my tears. "I’m not trying to make things difficult. I just want us to be okay."

He scoffed, the sound sharp and dismissive. "Maybe you just don’t get it. You’re just a kid, Y/N. You have to learn that life isn’t all about your feelings."

The sting of his words hit me like a slap, igniting a fire of anger within me. "You don’t get to belittle me like that! I’ve tried everything to understand you! I gave my virginity to you—something that meant the world to me!" My voice cracked as the floodgates opened, tears spilling down my cheeks. "How can you say I'm just a kid when I’ve given you so much?"

Heeseung finally turned to look at me, but his expression was cold, a mix of annoyance and impatience. "And I appreciate that, but maybe you need to understand that relationships aren’t always about grand gestures. Sometimes, you just need to chill and accept things as they are."

I shook my head, disbelief and hurt swelling in my chest. "You think this is me not accepting things? I’ve been fighting for us! I’m trying to understand you, but you keep pushing me away!"

He let out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head as if I were being unreasonable. "You’re making it sound like it’s all my fault. What do you want me to do, Y/N? Hold your hand through every little emotion? You need to grow up!"

His words twisted the knife deeper, and I could feel the anger and sadness colliding within me, threatening to consume me. "You don’t even see me anymore, do you? You only see what you want to see! I’m not asking you to fix everything, but I need you to acknowledge my feelings, not dismiss them."

"Maybe if you didn’t make such a big deal out of everything, we wouldn’t be having this conversation!" he shot back, his voice rising. "You’re the one who turns small things into drama, and I’m tired of it."

The tears continued to stream down my face, a mix of anger and heartache choking my throat. "You’re so wrapped up in your own world that you can’t even see how lonely I feel! I thought we were in this together, but now I feel like I’m just a burden to you!"

Silence filled the car, heavy and suffocating. I wiped my eyes, the reality of what was happening crashing down on me. "Is this really how you feel? That I’m just some kid making everything difficult?"

Heeseung glanced at me briefly, his expression softening for a split second before hardening again. "I’m just being honest, Y/N. You need to toughen up. Life is harder than you think, and I can’t keep holding your hand through every little emotional meltdown."

In that moment, the warmth I once felt around him faded away, replaced by an icy realization that we were standing on different ground. "You think I’m fragile, that I can’t handle anything? I’ve tried to be strong for you, to make this work, but I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not!"

Heeseung turned his gaze back to the road, his expression stony. “Maybe you need to figure out what you really want. Because right now, it feels like all you want is to stir up drama.”

After that night, things only got worse. We began to drift further apart, the connection we once had fading with every cold word, every dismissive look. One evening, after a particularly heated argument, Heeseung turned to me with an expression I hadn’t seen before—one that spoke volumes.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "It's not you. It's me."

It was the cliché that shattered me. I had given everything to this relationship, only to be told that it wasn’t enough. The weight of his words felt like a punch to my gut, and I struggled to breathe. Heeseung walked away, leaving me alone in a silence that felt deafening. I sat there, feeling utterly lost, like I was left to pick up the pieces of a heart that felt irreparably broken.

—Is this the end?

The door slammed behind me, the sound echoing through the emptiness of my apartment. My chest felt tight, as if the weight of the entire world was pressing down on me. I stood in the middle of my room, surrounded by the remnants of what had once been us—his jacket still draped over the chair, the books we shared stacked haphazardly on the floor, and the pictures of us smiling that felt like they belonged to someone else.

I felt like I was suffocating.

I dropped onto the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. I couldn’t breathe. My heart was breaking into pieces I couldn’t pick up, no matter how hard I tried. The tears came in waves, uncontrollable and relentless. I pressed my forehead against my knees, the sobs racking my body as if I was trying to cry out all the love I still had for him.

*Why wasn’t I enough?*

The question replayed in my mind like a broken record. I thought I had given him everything. I thought we were building something beautiful, but now it all felt like a lie. The apartment was cold without him, and every memory, every small thing we did together, haunted me.

I pushed myself up from the floor and stumbled toward my desk, where the typewriter sat. I stared at the blank page that mocked me, waiting for words I couldn’t find. My hands trembled as I placed them on the keys. But instead of flowing like they usually did, the words felt stuck, trapped inside me. I hit the keys with frustration, punching out broken, jagged sentences.

*"Why did you leave me like this? What did I do wrong?"* I typed angrily, the clack of the keys echoing in the room.

I couldn’t get the words right. I couldn’t capture the hurt or the betrayal that twisted inside me like a knife. Tears splattered the paper, blurring the ink. My breath hitched as I furiously wiped at my face, trying to fight against the pain that consumed me.

I felt broken. Completely, utterly broken.

Months had passed since Heeseung walked out of my life, but the hollow feeling remained. No matter how hard I tried to move on, he was still everywhere. His ghost lingered in every corner of my apartment, in every thought that crossed my mind. I couldn’t escape him.

The jacket still hung over the chair, untouched. The smell of his cologne faintly clung to the fabric, as if refusing to let me forget. His books remained stacked on the floor, mocking me with memories of late-night conversations and shared dreams. And the photos… they were the worst. Frozen moments of us laughing, smiling—so happy—hung on the wall, like a cruel reminder of what once was, of what I thought we had.

I thought time would heal me. I thought the ache in my chest would eventually fade, that I would wake up one day and not think about him. But I was wrong. Every day felt like I was fighting a losing battle against the memories.

I still remembered how I gave him everything—how I gave him myself. The night I trusted him with my innocence, believing that he would treasure it, that he would treasure me. I had been so vulnerable, so open, and I thought it meant something to him. But now, looking back, it felt like I had given away the most fragile parts of myself to someone who didn’t even care.

And it hurt.

God, it hurt so much.

I would find myself staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night, the quiet suffocating. I would replay that night in my mind, over and over again—the way he held me, the soft words he whispered, how safe I felt in his arms. It all felt like a cruel joke now. How could something so intimate, something that meant so much to me, turn into a painful reminder of everything I had lost?

I felt useless. Completely, utterly useless.

I had poured every part of myself into him, and now there was nothing left. The girl who once believed in love, who believed in him, was gone. In her place was someone hollow, someone who couldn’t find her way back to herself.

I tried to distract myself, throwing myself into work, into hobbies, into anything that would keep my mind off him. But nothing worked. He was always there, lurking in the back of my mind, in the smallest details of my day. The sound of his laugh, the feel of his touch, the promises he had made—all of it haunted me.

Even when I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t recognize myself anymore. I had become someone who was defined by the absence of him, by the hole he had left behind. It felt like I had lost not just him, but parts of myself I could never get back.

I wondered if he ever thought about me, if he even remembered the things we shared. But deep down, I knew it didn’t matter. He had moved on, while I was still here, stuck in the wreckage of what we had been.

—Remembering (Heeseung's POV)

I couldn’t sleep.

Even though weeks had passed since we ended things, her face still haunted my thoughts. The way her eyes shimmered with innocence when we first met, how her laugh sounded like music, how her touch always sent warmth through me—it was all I could think about. I messed it up. I had hurt her more than I ever intended, but the truth was, I didn’t know how to fix it.

As I lay in my bed, the room dark and quiet, I found myself replaying our memories, one by one. I could still see her sitting by the window, her face lit up by the soft glow of the afternoon sun, her fingers tracing shapes on the glass. She always looked so peaceful in moments like that.

God, I miss her.

I reached for my phone, scrolling through the photos we had taken together, my heart sinking as I stopped on one from the river walk. She was smiling, the wind in her hair, looking at me like I was the only person who mattered. How did I let that slip away?

I had been selfish. I pushed her away when she needed me the most, convinced myself that I was too busy, too caught up in my own life. But the truth was, I was scared. Scared of how deeply she loved me. Scared of what that meant for me, and scared that I wouldn’t be able to give her the same in return.

I sat up, running a hand through my hair as the guilt gnawed at me. She had given me everything—her trust, her heart, her innocence. And I had thrown it away.

She was too good for me. I thought to myself, the weight of my mistakes pressing down on my chest. I hadn’t been fair to her. I hadn’t been patient. Instead of guiding her into my world, I left her out in the cold, letting her feel like an outsider.

I thought back to the night we argued in the car, her tear-streaked face looking out the window, her voice breaking as she said, “I gave you everything, and you still don't see me.”

The pain in her voice still echoed in my ears.

And now? Now she was gone. I wondered if she would ever forgive me. I doubted it, not after everything I had put her through. I missed her love, her laughter, and her innocence—the way she used to look at me like I was her whole world. I wanted that back, but I knew it was too late.

I didn’t deserve her.

—Years Later

The air in the room buzzed with excitement. I sat at the signing table, a line of readers curving out the door, waiting to get their copies of my book signed. I never thought I’d reach this moment—a moment where I could share my story with the world, unafraid and stronger than I’d ever been.

I picked up the first book in the pile, running my fingers across the glossy cover. *"All Too Well: A Story of Remembering and Letting Go"*—the title that summed up everything I had been through, every lesson I had learned, every piece of myself I had gathered back together.

As readers approached, I smiled and thanked them, but my mind drifted back to the journey that brought me here. This book wasn’t just words on paper. It was pieces of my heart, carefully stitched together. It was a reflection of the love I gave, the pain I endured, and the person I became because of it.

The first chapter detailed the innocence I lost—not just physically, but emotionally. I wrote about how I had given myself so completely to someone who didn’t stay, someone who I thought would protect my heart but instead left me broken.

I gave everything to him. And for a long time, it felt like I lost myself in the process. But writing this book, putting all my pain and lessons into words, had been the most freeing thing I had ever done.

The line of readers thinned, and the crowd started to disperse. I stretched my hands, feeling the weight of the day start to fade. The final few approached the table, thanking me for sharing my story, and I smiled, genuinely grateful for their words. As I handed the last book back to its owner, I glanced up and froze.

Standing at the back of the room, framed by the window near the door, was a figure I never expected to see.

Heeseung.

My heart stalled for a moment, my breath catching in my throat. He was standing there, his eyes locked on me, but what caught my attention was the red scarf wrapped around his neck—the very one I had left at his house, the scarf that symbolized that I had given him a part of me.

Memories flooded back like a storm: the warmth of his hands, the laughter we shared, and the moment everything changed.

I could see his hesitation as he stood outside, watching me through the window. His eyes were filled with something I couldn’t quite read—regret, maybe? Longing? I wasn’t sure, and I wasn’t certain if I wanted to know.

Should he come in? Should he stay outside? Was he waiting for me to acknowledge him, to invite him in, or maybe even to chase him one last time?

But I didn’t move.

The Y/N from years ago might have stood up, might have run to him, desperate for answers or closure. But I wasn’t her anymore. I had learned to stand on my own, to move forward without him, and to find strength in the parts of me that he had left behind.

For a brief moment, our eyes met through the glass. I didn’t know what he saw in my gaze, but I hoped he recognized that I wasn’t waiting for him anymore. I had found my peace.

As the last of the readers left the room, I began to pack up my things, the weight of the day slowly lifting. Just as I turned to put the last of the books away, I heard a soft voice behind me.

“Y/N?”

I spun around, and there he was—Heeseung, standing just a few feet away, the red scarf still wrapped around his neck, a hesitant smile tugging at his lips.

“Sorry I didn’t come in earlier,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, as if he was afraid to disturb the moment. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me.”

My heart raced, caught between the exhilaration of seeing him and the flood of memories that threatened to overwhelm me. “I didn’t think you would come at all,” I replied, my voice steady despite the chaos inside.

He took a step closer, and I could see the uncertainty etched on his face. “I had to. I needed to hear what you had to say. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

For a moment, we just stood there, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions. I searched his eyes, looking for the answers to questions I hadn’t yet dared to ask.

“I’m okay,” I said finally, breaking the silence. “I’ve found my peace.”

He nodded, the weight of my words sinking in. “I can see that. I— I just wanted to say I’m sorry for everything.”

I held his gaze, feeling the past echo between us. “You don’t need to apologize,” I replied, my voice firm. “We’ve both grown, and this book—this journey I’ve taken—it’s helped me heal.”

A flicker of relief washed over his face, but there was something more there—a longing, perhaps. “I’ve missed you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

As the silence stretched between us, I felt the years of hurt and healing collide. I wasn’t the same girl who had chased after him, but seeing him here, so close, stirred emotions I thought I had tucked away.

“I’ve missed you too,” I finally confessed, the truth spilling out before I could stop it. “But I can’t go back. I’ve moved forward.”

He nodded slowly, the understanding hanging heavy in the air. “I know. I wouldn’t want to take away what you’ve built for yourself.”

With a deep breath, I stepped back, feeling the weight of the moment settle between us. “Maybe we can both find a way to move on. We can carry our memories without letting them define us.”

Heeseung smiled, a bittersweet expression that mirrored my own feelings. “I’d like that.”

In a gentle gesture, he took off the red scarf in his neck, holding it out to me. “I think you should have this back. It’s yours.”

As the scarf dangled between us, I felt a whirlwind of emotions. A part of me wanted to let him keep it, to let him hold onto a piece of our past. But another side of me surged with a desire to reclaim my innocence—this scarf was a symbol of everything I had lost, but it was also a reminder of how far I had come.

It had been my warmth, my comfort, my naivety. I had spent so long trying to fit into his world, trying to be enough for him, that I had forgotten to be enough for myself.

And now, standing here as an independent woman who had found her voice and her strength, I knew that I needed to take it back. I needed to own my past and carry it forward, not as a burden but as a badge of resilience.

Taking a step forward, I accepted the scarf from him, my fingers brushing against his. “Thank you,” I said, my voice steady. “For everything.”

Heeseung nodded, his eyes softening as he watched me wrap the scarf around my neck. The act felt powerful, almost ceremonial. I was reclaiming my innocence, my past, but more importantly, I was affirming my journey toward independence.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

“You too,” I replied, feeling the weight of closure settle between us. We both knew it was time to move on, to honor the memories while embracing the future.

As he turned to leave, I felt a sense of finality. He was walking away, but this time it didn’t hurt. I had transformed my pain into something beautiful.

And as I watched him walk away, I realized that I had already found the closure I needed. I had turned my pain into something beautiful, something lasting. Heeseung no longer had the power to define my story. I had written my own ending, and it was far more powerful than anything he could ever give me.

“And you call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest…”

Later that night, as I sat by the window of my hotel room, the city lights twinkling outside, I thought about the years that had passed. The love I had felt for Heeseung had been real, but so had the pain. I had been so young, so willing to give all of myself to him without realizing that he wasn’t willing to give me the same in return.

It had taken me years to understand that love wasn’t supposed to be one-sided. I had spent so long trying to fit into his world, trying to be enough for him, that I had forgotten to be enough for myself.

But now, I was different. I had grown. I had found my voice, not just as a writer, but as a person. I no longer needed Heeseung or anyone else to validate my worth. I had written my pain into the pages of All Too Well, and in doing so, I had healed.

As I looked at the scarf draped over the back of the chair, I smiled softly. It was no longer a symbol of heartbreak or loss. It was a reminder of how far I had come, of the strength I had found in myself. I had loved deeply, and I had lost. But in the end, I had gained something far more precious—myself.

The next morning, I wrapped the scarf around my neck and stepped out into the city, the cool breeze brushing against my face. I felt lighter, freer than I had in years. The past was behind me, and the future stretched out ahead, full of possibility.

“And I remember it all too well…"

But now, it was just a memory—a beautiful, painful, bittersweet memory that no longer had the power to hurt me. I had written my own ending, and it was exactly the way it was meant to be.

Masterlist

#enhypen imagine #angst #smut #heeseung #leeheeseung #heeseung smut #enhypen

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schoenpepper · 2 months ago

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Twisted Wonderland What Ifs

Intro: Ramshackle is in the hands of the fish mafia, Savanaclaw smells like wet fur and sweaty muscles—Heartslabyul’s your only option for the night. (And for the record, Ace is not sleeping with the cat.)

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, fish mafia, reader is yuu duh, early book 3, reader is a bit oblivious lol because why not

A/N: This was not worth a week's wait I'm sorry. If it helps, I'm thinking of a little something to actually write again. Uh, see you (hopefully not next week again).

Masterlist

The stare-off with Grim doesn’t do anything to help your current situation. Regardless of your red hot seething anger, the anemone is still on his furry head and you’re still homeless. Not that your home actually was here. Rephrase it then; you are now roof-less, shelter-less, and absolutely fucking clue-less.

“It wouldn't sit right with me if you slept outside and caught a cold or somethin'...” Ace says, and you swear you could almost catch a glimpse of the guilt on his face if he hadn’t turned away from you so quickly.

“What is it with you and posturin'?” Grim complains.

(You’d have to agree, Ace is a very duplicitous person.)

Deuce, being the sweetheart he is, pipes up, “We've talked with Housewarden Rosehearts. We can offer you a place safe from the elements if you don't mind sleeping in our four-man freshman dorm room.”

“You guys are gonna cram another two bodies into a crowded four-man room? What, does Heartslabyul not have any empty rooms?”

“Since nobody in our dorm ever drops out or gets held back, it's always at full capacity.”

It doesn’t sound awful. To be fair, you’ve seen the beds at Heartslabyul, and each one could likely fit two people each, with Grim barely counting as one body on his own. “I don’t mind. Thanks, guys,” you sigh and get back to packing your measly possessions into a large bag you’d borrowed from Jack, “who can I sleep with?”

“Really?” the wolf beastman raises an eyebrow, “I don’t think the guys back at Savanaclaw would mind if you stayed there. We have plenty of room, and they won’t say anything against it after the whole…spelldrive thing.”

You give him an awkward smile and a shrug. “It’s okay, Jack. I don’t think I’m very welcome there, so I’ll just bunk with Deuce for the night.”

“No problem, Y/N.”

“What?! I don’t want to be stuck with the cat!”

“I’m not a cat!”

You let out another sigh, “I meant bunking with Ace.”

The redhead doesn’t seem to have a problem with that statement.

(Though your heart might. Why is it beating so fast all of a sudden?)

The wind is cool on your trek to Heartslabyul; it’s a sobering feeling when your legs feel like jelly and your brain is nothing but pure mush. You feel drunk without a single sip of alcohol. You’re high with no drugs and really, there’s only one explanation for it—

Haha. No.

Your hands curl tighter around the strap of your bag.

This is necessary. That’s it. Your sleepover has no other meaning.

Trey welcomes you when you spot him in the kitchen on your way up the winding staircase to the boys’ dorm room, Grim already snoring with his head poking out of the duffle bag. You try your best to keep your steps quiet (and maybe that annoying pounding sound in your chest too), and as you reach the duo’s dorm room, you finally meet their roommates. One is some guy in your potionology class that you’ve talked to maybe twice, and the other is someone you could’ve sworn you’ve never even seen before in your life. “You’re here. I brought an extra blanket for Grim,” Deuce enters the room with a small, fluffy, rabbit-themed blanket.

“Oh,” you blink, “I knew I forgot something.”

“I don’t have any extra blankets. Guess you’re sleeping on the floor,” Ace laughs as he rolls around in his bed, wiggling his brows at you. Deuce throws a pillow at his face.

“Don’t worry prefect, I can lend you my—”

“Since I don’t have any extra blankets, I guess you can use mine. Just don’t get too close.”

You feel heat rising to your cheeks. You push it down as you carry Grim onto the little blanket atop Deuce’s bed. “Uh, right. I hope you don’t snore or kick or something,” you tease the redhead with a small smile.

(Ignore that Deuce offered you a blanket. Ignore the butterflies in your stomach.)

When you’re finally laid down next to him, you close your eyes almost immediately in a desperate attempt to fall asleep. Ace is…warm. He’s so annoying. But he radiates warmth in every way, almost from the soul. You pray that he’s dead asleep when you scoot closer to him, when you curl into his hoodie that smells like that one cologne that’s been overly popular in school lately. You hope he’s unconscious when you plop his arm to drape over you in the middle of the night.

Instead, your chin is tilted up to meet rose red eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Were you trying to cuddle?” he whispers, his breath hot on your skin.

You roll your eyes and quip back, “your breath smells like the dead.”

“Just admit you like me already.”

The smug tone in his voice makes you fake a gagging motion as you push him away, stealing the blanket and rolling yourself in it. “Shut up. Only an idiot would like you.”

He complains and tugs the blanket back towards him.

(You can’t fall asleep.)

(But to be honest, neither can he.)

#disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #gender neutral reader #x reader #twst x reader #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola #ace x reader

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 11 months ago

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Hated - Ethan Landry - Part 1

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT. - Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: Ethan's hated you for a while, but a little bit of time alone and a heated argument leads to something more.

A/N: There will probably be a part 2, but I'm not sure if I like this.. If you guys have any requests, please send them in. I need ideas!

You loved hanging out with your best friend, Chad. The only downside to the friendship: His roommate hated your fucking guts.

You thought Ethan was cool when you first met him at a party with the “Core Four”, but that changed once you started to spend so much time with Chad. He rolled his eyes whenever you spoke, made comments about the way you dressed at parties, and just seemed to loathe your presence.

One day, you arrived at Chad’s before he made it home from class. Ethan didn’t want to let you in, but it was cold outside, and he wasn’t heartless. You both took a seat on the couch, him on one end, you on the other. After a while of you both scrolling through your phones, you finally decided to speak.

“Why do you hate me?” You asked, not looking up from your phone. You saw his head snap in your direction in your peripheral vision.

“Why wouldn’t I hate you?” He scoffed, and it took everything in you to not slap him.

“You didn’t answer my fucking question,” The irritation in your voice obvious.

“Maybe it’s the way you play dumb all the time whenever you’re studying with Chad. Maybe it’s how you dress like you’re looking for attention whenever we go out. Maybe it’s the way you flirt with anything that fucking walks. Shit, all those things would be a good enough reason to hate you, don’t you think?” His condescending tone was infuriating.

You stood up in front of him, “First off, you make it sound like I’m just out there fucking everybody, which isn’t true. I haven’t had sex since my boyfriend and I broke up before I even came here. Second, even if I was trying to find someone to fuck, that’s none of your business. It’s not my fault that you’re jealous.” Your words set Ethan off.

He jumped up too, inches away from you, “No, what IS your fault is knowing I had a crush on you, making out with me after that party, and then acting like it never fucking happened!”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, as his face twisted in disbelief.

“You don’t remember me taking you back to your dorm because you were too scared to walk alone? You don’t remember inviting me in? You don’t remember moaning my name when I was kissing your neck?” At this point, he was pacing. Seeing him this angry was a turn on, so you decided to press further.

“I was WASTED, Ethan. Plus, I have a hard time believing that you made me moan.” He stopped pacing, staring you down. His eyes were lust-filled, and you could see he was starting to get hard through his sweatpants.

“I guess you don’t remember asking me to fuck you either, huh?” he asked, stepping closer to you.

You smirked, “What if I asked you to fuck me now?”

Within seconds, you were in his room. As soon as he closed the door, you were up against it. His mouth attacked yours as you lightly ran your fingers under his shirt and over his abs.

You both hurried out of your clothes. It’s been a long time since you’ve had sex, and up to this point you thought Ethan was a virgin, but now you aren’t so sure.

Once you were on his bed, he kissed you all down your chest, paying extra attention to your nipples. You were a moaning mess within minutes, and he wasn’t even inside you yet.

He started to kiss further down your body, the anticipation killing you as he inched closer to where you needed him the most. He suddenly stopped, and you shot up to whine in protest.

“Hey, I want to make sure you’re okay with everything I’m doing. If it’s too much or if it’s not enough, tell me. If you want me to stop, tell me. I want you to feel good.” For the first time in months, you’re seeing the Ethan you first met. The kind, sweet, caring Ethan. You almost didn’t know what to say with the complete personality switch.

“This isn’t a hate-fuck thing anymore, is it?” you asked, as he started to blush.

“I kinda pictured my first time to be a little more…intimate, I guess? If you want to stop, I understand,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

You were in shock, thinking there’s no way this man exuded this much confidence and had you so turned on, but was still a virgin.

“We can keep going, if that’s okay with you. We can do whatever you feel comfortable with,” you said, before placing your lips on his.

He started to kiss down your body again, spreading your legs to kiss you as far down as he could. He placed a gentle lick to your clit, testing the waters to see if that felt good. His eyes connected with yours, “Keep doing that, baby,” you said, as he continued. It felt good, but you needed a little more.

Before you could say anything, you felt one of his fingers slip inside you. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned, as he found that special spot. He added another finger as his mouth got more aggressive on your clit. You wanted to praise him for doing such a good job, but your brain was turning to mush as you felt your orgasm building.

You felt yourself tightening around his fingers, unable to control the moans coming out of your mouth. Once that wave of ecstasy hit, you were thrown into the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Ethan couldn’t stop staring at this blissful expression on your face, so happy that he was the one to make you feel good.

“I know you’re a virgin, but there’s no way you haven’t done that before,” you said, smirking as your breathing steadied.

“That was the first time,” he whispered, as we heard the front door close.

You mumbled ‘fuck’ under your breath as you scrambled to grab your clothes off the floor, putting them on as quick as possible.

“Roomie, you here?” Chad yelled from the other side of the door. You had a look of panic on your face, terrified that he would open the door.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute,” he said, as he put his clothes back on.

“This isn’t over yet,” you whispered, nibbling on his ear lobe.

“Promise?” he whispered as you both walked out of the room.

#ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #smut #ethan landry

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mindless-existence1 · 6 days ago

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Random Mha boyfriend headcannons

Authors note: So I have finals to study for and I said I wouldn't be posting stuff but I'm a fiber so I decided to write this short blurb instead of doing my actual school work

Live, laugh, love, yall

Pt2

This includes fluff headcanons for Bakugo, Tokoyami, Denki, and Izuku

Tw: Cursing (f word like twice)

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Bakugo would be the king at making sure you have eaten. I'm taking he makes your favorite meals when he knows you've been having trouble eating, he's constantly checking up on you, etc.

Denki definitely plays dress to impress and would be so fucking terrible at it. He's rage quick after some 8 year Olds win by not even doing the theme. He'll play it with you and every time your outfit comes up he gives it 5 stars.

Tokoyami has a peak taste in music and would love to go to concerts with you. Like he'd be the kind of guy to find some random concert where the tickets and cheap and yall start listening to the bands music on the way to the concert. He just likes the atmosphere I fear

Izuku is super embarrassed about literally every form of pda. So tease him about it pls. Out snd about and you decide to hold his hand? Oh the poor guys is done for. A kiss? That's attempt of murder right there.

Denki is the type of guy to binge watch movies like nobody's business. Definitely will make 'movie dates' where yall just stay up till 3 am watching a 12 epsiode anime that will destroy your soul.

Bakugo will constantly have a be holding your waist or shoulder or hand or literally anything while yall are on a date. You call it being cutly protective. He calls it 'making sure those stupid extras know your mine'

Tokoyami will most definitely get matching jewelry with you. RINGS! This man would wear the fuck out of some rings, I'm talking stacked up and on each finger. He'd get ones to match yours so when you hold hands you can feel the rings on eachothers fingers. It gives him a warm feeling.

Izuku probably keeps a diary or some cute dorky thing like that. The pages are filled with stuff about you and your quirk and just YOU. He'll put notes you've shared over the course of your relationship and stuff like the movie tickets to your first ever date which was to the movies.

Tokoyami most definitely has some of the big and warm and amazing hoodies ever that you constantly steal. He gets cold really easily I think so he'd have a bunch. Most of them end up in your dorm. I imagine yall would like trade them out so then you could have one that smelled like him and he could have one that smelled like you.

Bakugo would feel so nervous and self contious about holding hands because they get sweaty really fast and he thinks it's the worst thing ever. So when you take it so confidently and lovingly in your hand his mind short circuits. He trys pulling away but you keep it in your hand. Some days he wears gloves to mask the sweat but other days he wants to feel your hand skin to skin.

Denki thinks he is extremely ritzy (sorry for the brain rot). He thinks he is a lady's man all day and he'll flirt like crazy with you but if you even so much as compliment him he turns to jelly. He's spewing pick up lone after pick up line then you reciprocate with a flirty remark and he just melts, you'd think he over used his quirk.

Izuku likes when you play with his hair. And in secret he'd also let you style it. His hair is so fluffy you could bury your hands in it forever. He'll lay his head in your lap and just let you go to town. Some days he'll let you put little braid in it or up into pony tails.

Bakugo radiates heat something crazy so cuddles are a must. It'd take a LOT to convince him to let you snuggle up with him on the common room couch but in your or his dorm? He'll eat you be all over him. He won't admit the fuzzy feeling he gets when you cuddle up with him and trace your fingers on the scars on his arms or up and down his abs.

Tokoyami would be so good with words and he wouldn't wouldn't know it. Like you'd ask if he liked your outfit and he'd hit you with straight poetry. Now this doesn't mean he's smooth all the time. The first time yall held hands he almost tweaked out, and the first time he saw you all dressed up for a date he almost fainted. But he has his moments.

Denki has crazy insomnia so he'd stay up late and if you don't stay up late he'd flood your phone with just random stuff he thinks about through out the night. If you also have insomnia he'd either be on face time with you or be with you irl. Yall would go on so many side quests at 3 am.

Izuku is a yapper but also an attentive listener. He'd love to hear you talk about the most boring thing in the world and not even care. He finds everything you talk about so interesting, he'd want you to reciprocate tho so when he yaps you also listen with your full heart.

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littlefireball · 6 months ago

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I'm not sure if you do it but could you do a fic with Hybrid Yeosang and Hybrid San? They find a hyrbid going through heat and she's completely unaware that she is a Hybrid. So they explain and help her through her heat together? But since she is a virgin she bleeds when San goes in and Yeosang calms her down tremendously while San gives her pleasure

This article is a bit long, I hope you like it 🥲

ꜱᴀɴꜱᴀɴɢ|ᴘᴀɪɴꜰᴜʟ ʙᴜᴛ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴜʀᴇ (ᴍ)

ᴄᴀᴛ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ꜱᴀɴ x ᴄᴀᴛ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴅᴏʙᴇʀᴍᴀɴɴ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ᴛʜʀᴇᴇꜱᴏᴍᴇ(?)|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ʜᴇᴀᴛ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3ᴋ

Feeling weak and uncomfortable on the couch, with strange sensations taking over your body, you turn to the Internet for answers. "I can't be on my period..." Despite similarities to period symptoms, a strong sexual urge overwhelms you.

What you truly crave is someone who can satisfy you completely, leaving you exhausted and completely spent.

Sex has always been taboo, but now you're consumed by erotic thoughts.

"What's happening to me..." You struggle to wake up and make your way to your roommate, San's, bedroom, feeling an inexplicable pull towards it.

"Ah... that's it." You climb into San's bed, finding solace in the faint scent that lingers there. Though you're unsure why your sense of smell has become so heightened, you know that being in his bed has provided some relief from your symptoms.

You wrap yourself in his blanket, creating a cozy nest, and eventually drift off to sleep, clutching his pillow.

—--

"What takeout do you want to order??" San asks yeosang, now they are walking back to San and your dorm to play video games.

"Fried chicken!'

"Again?Won't you get tired of it?"

"No~who doesn't like fried chicken?"

"Ok, fine. Let me ask Y/N if she wants to eat with us." But all he gets in response is a cold mechanical voice.

"Maybe she is busy?"

"Maybe? Whatever! Just buy more, we can finish it even if she doesn't eat it. " Yeosang nod.

—-

"Hey, Y/N?" They return to the dormitory carrying two boxes of fried chicken, but you are nowhere to be seen, replaced by an unfamiliar sweet smell. This is not an ordinary fruit scent, but a sweet scent that is exciting and even arouses desire in others...

San's heart raced as he entered the dorm, the alluring aroma overwhelming him. He searched for you, but you were nowhere to be found.

Confused and embarrassed, he tried to hide his reaction from Yeosang, who chuckled at his friend's predicament. Yeosang asked about the source of the captivating scent, and San nervously replied that it might be coming from his room.

"I'm not sure, but I think it's coming from my...room?!," San replies, his voice slightly shaky. He quickly covers himself, feeling the need to hide his physical response.

Hurriedly, San made his way to his room, the scent growing stronger. And there, on his bed, is you. The room is filled with your intoxicating scent, driving San to the edge of madness.

"What? Y/N?"

Startled, you wake up from your dream as San lightly pats your shoulder. You look into his eyes, a mix of desire and gentleness, only to notice Yeosang standing behind him.

"Hm? You're back?" you mutter, still in a daze. Unbeknownst to you, a cat tail sways back and forth behind you.

San places his hand on your forehead, finally realizing that you are in heat and the sweet scent is emanating from you.

"Oh my god, I never found out that Y/N is a cat hybrid!?" Yeosang's eyes widen in shock as he notices the presence of a cat tail and ears on you. These are characteristics that you have never shown before. It dawns on him that this must be related to the drugs you have been taking since childhood.

These drugs effectively suppress your estrus and prevent your animal signs from manifesting. However, it seems that the drug's effectiveness may gradually diminish over time due to prolonged usage.

Confusion and disbelief wash over you as you struggle to sit up straight, only to discover the cat tail behind your back. Your voice trembles as you question, "What is happening?"

In an instant, San reacts swiftly, covering your mouth to prevent you from screaming. "Calm down, Y/N," he urges, his eyes filled with concern.

Pushing his hand away, you shout in shock, unable to contain your emotions. "HOW CAN I CALM DOWN!? THERE IS A CAT... NO, I HAVE A TAIL! AND... I HAVE EARS?? CAT EARS??" Panic courses through your veins as you try to make sense of the situation.

San catches your hand, his touch comforting as he tries to soothe your distress. "Hey, hey, Y/N. Calm down, it's not as big of a deal as it seems," he reassures you, his voice gentle. "No... how..." you stammer, unable to find the right words to express your confusion.

"Shhh..." San places a finger on your lips, silencing your words. He instructs you to take a deep breath, guiding you towards a state of calmness. Slowly, you begin to regain composure, although the fear of what just happened to your body still lingers.

"Hmm... before you say anything, please listen to me first, okay?" San requests, his eyes filled with sincerity. You nod, indicating your willingness to hear him out.

"Y/N, you are a cat hybrid," he reveals, his words causing your eyebrows to furrow in disbelief. Despite your skepticism, you continue to listen.

"This means that you are half human and half cat. Hence, you may possess certain cat-like features, such as the tail and ears you currently have," San explains, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Can I... can I get rid of them? I mean, how can I go out in public with these ears and tail?" you inquire, your voice filled with concern.

"Of course, you can. We will teach you."

"Teach?You two? How?"

San and Yeosang both nod in unison, their hybrid features on full display. San's cat tail swishes behind him as he speaks, while Yeosang's doberman ears perk up.

"We're hybrids," San explains, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'm a cat and Yeosang is a doberman."

Your mind races with questions, unable to form a coherent sentence. It all feels like a dream, a fairy tale that couldn't possibly be real.

Yeosang interjects, "And one thing that sets us apart from humans is our heat." You shake your head in disbelief, but San insists, "It's true."

Yeosang points to the makeshift nest you've made on San's bed, using his pillow and blanket. You're at a loss for words, unable to explain your actions. The scent of San's belongings is comforting, but you can't understand why you feel this way.

"That's just what hybrids do, not humans," Yeosang says casually, pacing back and forth.

San reaches out to touch your hand, sending shivers down your spine. His gentle caress makes you crave more, and you can't help but moan softly.

"You're feeling the heat now, aren't you?" San's voice is low and seductive, causing your heart to race.

"And so horny." Yeosang add. San deliberately lowers his voice, incredibly alluring. "That's the heat. You will want someone to fill you, to knot you, and to breed. You will make a nest to comfort yourself if your desires are not satisfied. "

He leans in closer, his warm breath caressing your skin. The combination of his scent and his every action sends your heart racing.

Lost in the sensation of his touch and the intoxicating aroma that surrounds him, all your doubts and fears fade away. You feel an unexplainable pull towards him, willing to follow wherever he may lead.

"And the estrus period will last for a long time..." you say, your voice filled with pain. "How am I supposed to deal with it, Sannie?"

Your pitiful expression tugs at his heartstrings, but it also ignites a darker desire within him.

"Then you need someone to help you," he says, his voice low and commanding. He grabs your chin, pushing you down as he presses himself against you. His scent engulfs you completely, intensifying your desire for him.

"Sannie..." you moan, unable to resist the physical discomfort any longer. You find yourself rubbing your thighs against him, craving more even pushing against his arched cock.

"Who sleeps on my bed and makes a nest with my pillow and blanket? Hm? Tell me, kitten," he says, his tone shifting from gentle to slightly domineering. But you don't mind. In fact, you like it and want more.

"Hm... Sannie, I didn't mean to. But your scent is so intoxicating... I can't help myself," you confess, your voice filled with desperation. The physical discomfort becomes unbearable, but it only fuels your desire.

"Hiss, listen, kitten. If you keep doing this, I'll fuck you until you beg me to stop," he warns, speaking from the depths of his desire. Shit, he forgets you are so conservative, and the most important thing is you two are just friends, not a couple.

"You're so damn horny, aren't you? San. Maybe I should just go out and get some fried chicken," Yeosang chuckles helplessly, realizing he's become an unnecessary presence.

"Hey, Yeosang, don't say that," San retorts.

"I'm just stating the obvious," Yeosang replies nonchalantly, causing San to roll his eyes.

"Fine. So, Y/N, do you need my help? Or would you rather sleep on my bed..." San offers, his voice filled with a mix of concern and desire.

"No, please, help me..." Both of them widen their eyes, never expecting you to say yes.

"Really?" San's one hand climbs up to your pants, pulling down slightly and slowly, but stops in the middle.

"There is no regret." He caresses your rosy lips with his thumb, feeling a wave of pleasure and excitement go through the whole body. He really wants to knot you but he doesn't want to force you.

"Are you sure about that, Y/N?" Yeosang sits next to you, his eyes are filled with concern.

"Yes, please...I can't bear it."The pain and the heat engulfed your body, a relentless fire burning within. It was excruciating, like nothing you had ever experienced before.

Without hesitation, San leans in closer and presses his lips against yours, his intoxicating scent filling your senses once again. You are unsure of what to do, but you follow his lead, allowing him to guide you.

"Open your mouth when we kiss," San whispers between kisses, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. You obediently part your lips slightly, feeling his lips and tongue explore your mouth. The kiss is not as rough as you had anticipated, his tongue gently caressing yours, teasing and testing your limits.

Your hands instinctively travel up his chest, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath your touch. It is everything you had imagined and more. You have longed to feel him, but you have always held back.

Breaking away from the kiss, San pulls you up, his hands moving to remove your clothes, exposing your beautiful breasts.

San leaves a gentle kiss on your collarbone, causing Yeosang to hiss in surprise. Despite being a dog hybrid, Yeosang feels a strange desire stirring within him as he watches the scene unfold.

"You seem nervous," San remarks, his voice low as he leans in closer to hear your racing heartbeat. Your cheeks flush crimson in response.

"Let's Yeosang helps you then," he suggests, prompting both of you to look at Yeosang as he obediently lies down on the bed, allowing you to rest on him.

"So warm, isn't?" San smirk and you murmur as you feel the rise and fall of Yeosang's chest against your back. You bite your lip nervously, too embarrassed to speak as San skillfully removes your bra.

With a soft kiss on your lower abdomen, San smoothly slides off your underwear. You avoid making eye contact, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

"Don't be shy, Y/N. You're absolutely stunning," Yeosang's gentle touch on your face and a kiss on your temple help to ease your nerves, though you're unsure why.

Watching San undress, he reveals his red, eager member. You're taken aback by its size and worry if it will fit.

"Don't worry, my love," San reassures you as he positions himself above you, sliding inside effortlessly. You gasp as he goes deep, his size overwhelming you. There's no room left as he fills you completely. You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling a mix of pleasure and discomfort as he starts to move slowly.

"Oh, fuck...oh," San continues thrusting, unaware of your pain, thinking you're adjusting to his size. "Fuck...Sannie..." Your toes curl and your fists clench as you try to endure each powerful thrust, hoping the pain will subside.

But it only seems to intensify. Instead of fading, the pain becomes unbearable.

"Wait, wait, Sannie. It hurts," you arch your back as he pushes in again, feeling a trickle of liquid escape.

"Shit, you're bleeding," San exclaims, looking at his member stained with your blood. He immediately withdraws carefully and cleans up.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I've hurt you," he says, concern etched on his face. You rest against Yeosang's shoulder, panting heavily as the pain gradually subsides, leaving behind a lingering heat.

"I'm alright," you reassure San, gently caressing his face, meeting his tender gaze.

"Relax, Y/N. Don't be too nervous," Yeosang whispers softly, patting your head and giving you a comforting kiss. It seems to work like magic, soothing your pain and calming your racing heart.

"Please, Sannie, let's try again. I'm okay now."

"But, Y/N..."

"I'll let you know if it's too much. Please, San." "Let her adjust first, San." San comes to a halt after thrusting once more, concerned about your well-being. Yeosang gently cups your face, showering it with kisses and delicately brushing his lips against yours, like a butterfly caressing a petal.

You arch your back, granting Yeosang more access, allowing him to trail his kisses down to your jaw. A moan escapes your lips as your desire for more intensifies. Your inner walls tighten around San's cock, gradually adjusting to his size.

"Sannie, please move," you plead. Upon your request, San's urgent and intense movements drive you to ecstasy. The pain is replaced by overwhelming pleasure, consuming your entire being. The rhythmic sound of skin against skin adds to the sensation, sending shivers down your spine.

Your body moves in harmony with San's, creating an electrifying friction with Yeosang. Despite the clothing barrier, the pleasure heightens his arousal.

San kisses you passionately, matching your desire. Yeosang's hands explore your body, sending waves of pleasure through you. Their touch and movements push you closer to the edge, your breath quickening.

The intensity builds, bringing you to the brink of release. Every nerve ending is on fire with desire, the pleasure almost unbearable. And then, with a final thrust from San and a gentle touch from Yeosang, you experience a mind-blowing climax, your body trembling with the force of your release.

"I may just cum in my panties, fuck." "Just cum then, I may not last long."

San's member swells, stretching you to your limits. The sensation of emptiness overwhelms you, a craving for something to fill the void inside you. "Please, fill me up," you beg, surprising both yourself and your partner. It's as if a primal instinct has taken over.

"It might hurt, but it'll be worth it," he reassures you. Without warning, a sharp pain shoots through you as he enters you, moving with a relentless rhythm.

Your cries are a mix of pleasure and pain, but you can't bring yourself to ask him to stop. The man behind you plants gentle kisses on your neck, whispering soothing words.

"I'm cumming" he announces. With a few final thrusts, you both reach the peak of pleasure, your bodies trembling in unison. His release fills you as your essence coats him, a messy yet satisfying conclusion. "Damn," Yeosang mutters, feeling the aftermath in his own way.

"Are you okay?y/n?" San asks you softly, placing your hair behind your ear as he pecks at your forehead. As you come down from the peak of pleasure, you are left breathless and sated, your body tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

San and Yeosang hold you close, their own breathing heavy and labored, their eyes filled with a mixture of satisfaction and adoration. In that moment, you are lost in a haze of bliss, completely consumed by the pleasure that surrounds you.

You sigh softly, feeling drowsy. "Thank you," you murmur, resting your head on Yeosang's chest as fatigue sets in.

"No need to clean up," you say, snuggling against his shoulder and holding San's hand.

"Cuddle," you pout, looking adorable. They both smile at you.

"Okay, our little kitten," San replies, lying down beside you. You drift off to sleep, feeling safe and loved.

"We'll eat the chicken later," Yeosang whispers, seeing you dozing off. He lets you rest peacefully.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez x female reader #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez san #ateez yeosang #yeosang smut #san smut

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professorsnape394 · 1 month ago

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DAY 11 - Unrequited Love

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Rating: 😡

Prompt: Buried

Summary: Long Buried feelings finally come to light and Severus does not know how to react.

A/N: For this one I took inspiration from the last Snapetober I participated in (2021). I found an half-finished unpublished story in my drafts, so here is it finished and fully fleshed out. Enjoy :-)

Warnings: Angst. Rejection. Spoilers: Unhappy Ending.

Word Count: 2307

Credits to Gif Creator.

Hogwarts Christmas Ball, 1978.

Y/N stared across the dance floor longingly, her gaze captivated by the slender boy on the other side of the room. Despite his tattered dress robes, and slightly greasy hair, Y/N always found herself drawn to him. In fact, her attention was rarely on anything but him. Severus Snape had stolen Y/N’s heart long ago; it was just a shame he knew nothing about it.

Her stomach lurched at the sight of Severus approaching a familiar red-head. While Y/N spent her days watching the boy, Snape spent his trailing around after Lily Evans.

It did not come as a shock to see them at the ball together since it was rumoured her infatuation, James Potter, was absent due to a bad batch of pumpkin pasties. What was surprising, however, was the fact that Severus was supposed to be attending the ball with her. A fact that seems to have slipped his mind.

Fighting back a second bout of tears that week, Y/N turned her gaze elsewhere. While she was under no illusions that Severus would return her feelings, she had hoped that the two of them might enjoy one dance together, even if they remained only friends. She watched on from afar, as her date laughed with another girl. Her face burned with a mixture of jealously and embarrassment.

It wasn’t the first time Severus’ feelings for Lily Evans made her feel small. But it was the first time her best friend had betrayed her so blatantly.

Hours passed and without a single offer to dance, her classmate’s uninterested in anyone else besides their own dates. Severus remained on the opposite side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the girl whose heart was breaking over him.

Finding the night to be a lost cause, Y/N resided to return to her dorm. With one last glance over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of Severus and Lily dancing arm in arm to a slow song; her head positioned intimately on his chest, his lips brushing against her auburn hair. When he turned in time with the music, Y/N recognised the unrequited look on his face as the same one she often wore around him. It was in that moment she lost all hope of ever ensnaring the man she so longed to love.

That night forever haunted Y/N’s memory even years after she had graduated from Hogwarts. It was the night she had lost all hope on love, and despite trying to overcome her teenage infatuation, the remnants of her feelings still remained. It was this that prevented her from finding love elsewhere, thus leaving her just as alone in her twenties as she had been as a teen.

Diagon Alley, 1985.

Y/N’s usual weekend ritual consisted of a trip to Flourish and Blotts to purchase a brand-new novel, then visit a local café to begin her next literary adventure. It seemed the only way to escape the bitter thoughts of reality that often creeped up on her whenever she was alone.

The familiar chime of the doorbell welcomed her into the shop, the wall of heat easing the sting of the cold winter air outside. She took her time browsing the bookshelves, roaming up and down the aisles multiple different times before settling upon her final pick.

Y/N finally reached for the hardback, tugging only to find it would not budge. The witch crouched to inspect the issue, finding a second hand tightly gripped the spine from one aisle over, seemingly as reluctant to let go as she was.

An irritated grunt echoed through the silence of the shop, and the book was ripped from her grasp.

“Excuse me, what exactly do you think you are doing?” Y/N exclaimed, marching her way around the shelves. “I had that book firs-“

Her voice trailed away, the sight of her competitor stealing all the breath in her lungs.

“Severus.” She gasped.

“Y/N?” He turned to the woman in surprise.

“It’s… good to see you.” She bit back the tone of shock in her voice. A sickly feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.

“How long as it been? I can’t remember the last we spoke.”

“I can.” She blurted without thought.

After that night at the Christmas Ball, Y/N swore to never speak a word to the man again. Though it pained her, it was ultimately the right decision to try and lessen the hold he had on her. What hurt more was that he never once tried to reach out after that night; it hadn’t occurred to Y/N that their friendship had meant so very little to him.

Snape raised an eyebrow questioningly, waiting for the woman to elaborate.

“I should get going. It was nice to see you again, Severus.” She made a dash for the door.

“Wait. Your book.” He called after her, feeling nothing but utter confusion.

“Keep it, it’s yours.” She disappeared from his sight.

Struggling for breath, Y/N planted herself in the far corner of the café, peeling off her layers of scarfs and her winter coat. Her encounter with Severus had sent her blood boiling, flushing her face with colour and breaking a sweat out on her forehead. He was both the first and the last man she wanted to run into on any given day, she just never expected it to actually happen.

He looked so different now; no longer the lanky teenager she first developed feelings for. Yes, his face had aged, but his slight wrinkles only added to his appeal. At least when she thought back on him, she was picturing the scrawny boy with clothes that barely fit him. Now, however, she would forever see him as the man he had grown to become; tall, broad shoulders, and not completely lacking in the muscle department. And it didn’t escape her notice how strong his grip was when he forced the book from her hands.

Burying her head in her palms, Y/N wanted to scream, cry and throw up all at once. What had once been a distant memory of a childhood crush was now back in full force and she couldn’t get the image of the man out her head.

There was no way of telling how long she sat like that, except for the fact her tea had long since turned cold and the busy streets of Diagon Alley had almost emptied.

Had her hands not been pried away from her face, she may very well have sat like that all night. Her eyes first landed on the leather-bound novel that had been placed gently in front of her, not daring to look at where it had come from.

“Y/N.” Severus spoke softly, announcing his presence.

“How did you know I was here.” She croaked, burning a hole into the cover of the book.

“I remembered how much you liked tea. There was only so many places you could run to.” He took the seat opposite hers. “Why did you run?”

Y/N fought the urge to bury her head in her hands again. How was she going to explain the bizarre reaction she had to seeing him again after all these years.

“What can I get you, Sir?” A waitress interrupted, buying her time.

“Coffee. Black.”

“That’ll be with you in just a moment.” She smiled, returning behind the counter, leaving the two of them to sit in silence once more.

The loaded silence between the two threatened to swallow Y/N whole. Her need to see the look on Severus’ face, outweighed the need to hide the embarrassment on her own. She appreciated he did not push her for an answer, but his intense stare had a similar effect. There was no escaping his question.

“Seeing you again, after all these years… it’s too painful.” She stuttered.

Severus swallowed; it was clear he did not expect such an answer from her.

“Care to enlighten me as to why an encounter with me is … painful for you?”

Y/N searched his face for a semblance of understanding, surely he was not entirely oblivious to her feelings for him.

“Do you remember the last time we spoke?”

Severus didn’t bat an eyelid at her swift change of subject.

“I didn’t think I did.” He started. “But upon seeing you again, I think I remember when it was.”

“It was the day before the Christmas Ball in our Seventh year. We were sat in the common room by the fire. I was telling you about my dress, I was so excited to wear it for the ball.” The memory of the moment had her blinking back tears, it hurt to recount the events. “We were complaining that we both had to attend the ball alone, almost everyone in our year had dates and frankly it was a bit embarrassing that no one had even thought to ask me. You on the other hand made your own choice by refusing to ask anyone at all, considering the one person you wanted to ask was already taken.”

“I recall.” Severus clenched his jaw at the mention of the late Lily Potter.

“Do you remember what happened later that night? You came to me in my dorm; slightly dishevelled I admit, maybe you had been drinking? I don’t know. But you came to me and asked me to accompany you to the ball.”

Severus froze, the memory slowly coming back to him.

“I don’t think you ever knew how happy that made me. I was completely over-joyed at the thought of having a date to the ball. Not just any date; you. You were the only one I truly wanted to go with and I felt like my dreams were finally coming true. I could barely sleep I was so happy. I spent the whole next day prepping and primping, making myself look the best I possibly could, in the hopes I could somehow manage to impress you.”

“You did not need to impress me.”

“Didn’t I?” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as a tear fell from her eyes. “Because if my memory is correct; despite my efforts to prepare for a magical evening with you, I spend all of it alone. I arrived in the Great Hall to find my date had apparently been double booked.”

Suddenly it all dawned on Severus at once. He had completely fucked up. Not only by forgetting his arrangement with you, but for leaving his friend on the lurch when she had no one else to go with. He had been so blind by Lily’s request to replace James; he had forgotten everything the two of them had spoken about the night before.

“Y/N.” Severus sighed, massaging his forehead.

“I discovered through my own humiliating research that Lily Evans had become short of a date at the last moment and came to you for help. Which you so graciously offered.” She swiped at the stream of tears pouring down her cheeks.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Snape reached across the table to take her hand in his.

“It’s done now.” She sniffled. “But you never even spoke to me after that. All those years of friendship forgotten about in an instant.”

“You were avoiding me like the plague, Y/N. I had no idea what I had done to piss you off, all I knew was that you were mad at me. I thought it would be better if I left you alone.”

“I wasn’t mad at you Severus. I was in love with you.” She looked teary-eyed into his pitying gaze.

Her confession left Severus speechless. Had he really been so blind, that he hadn’t noticed his best friend was in love with him?

He swallowed, clearing the ever-growing lump in his throat.

“I had no idea.” His words were nothing more than a whisper.

“Well, you wouldn’t, would you? While I was staring at you, you were too busy looking at her.”

Severus closed his eyes, taking a second to think back. She was right, his entire youth was memories of pining after. He hadn’t even taken a second to appreciate the one girl who stuck by him through it all.

“That still doesn’t explain why you ran away from me just now? Did I hurt you so bad that you’re still annoyed with me?”

It was Y/N’s turn to fall silent now.

“I think I should go.” She said after an uncomfortably long pause.

Y/N rushed to stand from the small wooden table, Severus stood just as quickly, blocking her exit path.

“Tell me.” He stared intensely into her eyes, his cold hands wrapping around her dainty wrist. “Please.”

The length between his words and hers seemed to go on for days. Finally, she gathered the courage to say the words she had been holding in for so many years.

“I think… I think I might still be in love with you.” His hand fell from hers, retracting as if he had been burned.

While it was her instinct to run away as far as she could, Y/N suspected this would be the one time she would regret fleeing. She needed to hear what he had to say.

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

Her heart sunk.

“Nothing.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “If the obvious doesn’t occur to you, then the best thing to say would be nothing.”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated sincerely.

“It really is time I should get going.” This time Severus stepped out of her way, allowing her access to the door.

“Your book.” He lifted it from the table.

“Keep it. If you ever have a change of heart, I might borrow it from you someday.”

Severus nodded, understanding her words.

Y/N took one last glimpse of him before leaving, flashing him a sad smile that might haunt his memory forever.

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