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venusbyline · 7 months ago

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Soapy ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 07, oct.

— pairing: Emily Prentiss x co-worker!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: bath sex

— summary: You need to spend some time in the hotel bathtub to distract yourself from your broken heart. Your enemy and co-worker decides to join you.

— word count: 3.2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 7th day, female!reader, co-worker/rival!Prentiss, bath sex, fingering, breast worship, non-consensual voyeurism, first time having sex with a woman, choking, nipple play, light degradation, praise kink, curse words, sassy!Prentiss, grumpy x sunshine, age gap (older woman/younger woman), sub!reader, dom! Prentiss, canon divergence, minor JJ x Reid, minor JJ x Prentiss, minor reader x Reid, lesbian!Prentiss, bisexual(?)!reader. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

Being paired up with Prentiss was something you always hated during every case. Sometimes you could have sworn Hotch drew the pairs falsely just to see the chaos happening on the team. The rivalry you and Prentiss created when you joined the BAU was the entire team's favorite entertainment.

Emily thought you were incompetent for the job, always too empathetic with everything and everyone, almost being like a sponge and attracting all the people's suffering onto yourself. She thought you were too unprofessional, always clinging to Reid as if you wanted to prove that you were made for each other. The similar personality, the common hobbies, the young age, the overtalking... She could barely spend two minutes by your side without rolling her eyes when you brought up a nerdy topic in the middle of the cases.

And you didn't have a very friendly judgment about Emily either. Grumpy, bossy, her sarcasm beyond measure, the way she attracted the attention of everyone wherever she went. The way even JJ seemed to chase her like a puppy. They complemented each other in a different way, and it wasn't a surprise to you when Morgan made fun of Reid that night, joking about the fact that JJ and Emily had been casually fucking for over a year.

What you took as a damn unnecessary confession, Reid felt like he'd been hit by a truck, swallowing hard as he stuttered and excused himself. The whole attitude was confusing and worrying by itself, but any mere suspicion that had been going on your head over the past months started to make sense when Morgan laughed after Spencer left, muttering something about the young man not knowing how to deal with his pathetic crush for JJ.

At that moment, you broke inside. Holding your ground until you got to your hotel room was one of the hardest things you've ever done. Your legs felt limp and your mind was spinning, a ridiculous urge to drown in your own tears as you lay in bed, sobbing softly into your pillow.

It took almost ten minutes for Emily to finally appear, frowning at the view. "You kidding me? Is there only one bed in this fucking room?" She asked, ignoring your crying and you also ignored her question, burying your face in the pillow with even more pressure than before, letting out a weak scream, mixed with anger, pain and frustration. "Damn, girl... Who broke your heart like that? You're look like a crybaby and you're almost eating our pillows. I can call the room service if you're so hungry. I bet a burger with fries and strawberry's milkshake will be tastier than that."

You just looked up and glared at her. You couldn't decide which was the worst part of all of this: Emily already knowing why you were crying or the fact that she was minimizing the situation. Before you could turn your head away and ignore her again, Emily continued.

"Seriously, are you really broken-hearted just because Reid doesn't like you the same way you like him?" She asked and you felt a pang in your heart.

"Shut up, Prentiss." You muttered with a trembling voice. Surprising you, Emily didn't laugh or even mock. She sighed loudly, mumbling something to herself before sitting on the edge of the bed you would share.

"Look, Spencer's... Complicated." Emily started and it was your turn to roll eyes, finally turning your body so you could face her better. The older agent looked at the neckline of your shirt for a few seconds before composing herself. "I'm serious. There's no point in crying over him right now. It's going to take a while for him to realize what an idiot he's being."

You huffed, crossing your arms while still lying down, looking at her with a mix of indignation and anger. "For liking JJ even though you know she'd rather fuck you?"

Emily's face paled, but she soon recovered, not wanting to show how surprised she was to see you being so direct about the usual fucking between her and the other teammate. "Y-Yes... That too." Emily stuttered in an almost cute way. "But that's not all."

You watched her with eyes still full of tears, however, now there was also confusion and curiosity there. Your brain was in a frenzy, trying to figure out what else she could be talking about.

Emily cleared her throat after a long moment of silence. "You should take a bath right now." She suggested, looking away. "Wipe those teary cheeks and get distracted by Spencer's crush on another girl."

You held back the urge to tell her to fuck off, despite knowing that behind that cold tone of voice, she was right. You urgently needed time to yourself. Maybe using the bathtub in the hotel room wouldn't be so bad after all.

You had been inside the bathtub for more than thirty minutes. The foams were decorating the water and you tried to calm down, but nothing could help much. Every time the image of Spencer invaded your brain, your fertile imagination led you to imagine him having sex with JJ.

You didn't know if she liked men too. All you knew was that JJ had an affair with Emily and Spencer had a crush on JJ. That didn't mean he was sleeping with her. Which was even worse. He could be liking a woman who didn't even like men.

Everything made you feel pathetic.

You tried rubbing your back with the sponge, but all that came out was a weak moan of pain. Your body was so tense that you could barely move your arms back. That would be the worst bath of your life, you were sure of it.

A groan escaped your lips and you leaned back against the tub, hands gripping the edges as you took a deep breath and tried hard to keep your thoughts away from JJ or Reid.

"You're overthinking." A voice was present a few minutes after you closed your eyes.

You were startled by the abrupt sound and also by realizing who owned the hoarse and at the same time sweet voice. "What the hell, Prentiss?" You exclaimed, cowering a little more under the water to avoid her seeing your naked body. "How did you get here?"

The sight of your curves didn't go unnoticed by Emily, a smirk appearing on her lips as she approached with calm steps, shrugging her shoulders. "You're the one who left the door open. I thought it was even an invitation for me to join you." She teased and you rolled your eyes, avoiding eye contact at that moment.

"I would never invite you to take a bath with me." You revealed with a colder voice than Emily was expecting, and her smirk turned into a frown again.

She poked the inside of her cheek with the tip of her tongue before scoffing. "For someone who can barely scrub their back with a sponge, you're being very picky about who can and who can't go into this bathroom with you."

You looked back at her, sighing with frustration and gripping the edges of the bathtub tighter. "Good to know you're creepy enough to watch me this whole time."

Emily laughed, shrugging and moving a little closer, until her tall body was facing your body submerged inside the water. "Oh, yeah. It's a little creepy, I admit. But watching you sponge your little pussy and shudder from such a fucking simple touch was quite a turn on." Her confession made your face redder than a strawberry. You stuttered several times before looking away, pulling yourself upright in the tub as you searched for the fluffy towel you had left somewhere. "Hey, hey, hey! I'm just kidding. Relax, girl." Emily grumbled, rolling her eyes. Her slender hands moved to your shoulders, helping you bend down into the bathtub. You swore you saw her gaze lingering too long on your soapy breasts.

You thought of some things to say, any offense or any question about the real reason she thought invading your bath might be a good idea. You had always hated each other and now she was here, looking at your wet body as if you were a work of art.

"You know, you're not that bad." Emily began, sitting on the stool directly behind the tub. You scoffed and held back from asking if she said the same passive-aggressive praise to JJ too. "I know what you're thinking."

"Do you read minds now, Agent Prentiss?" You tilted your head so you could look at her better. The sight alone made Emily bite her lip to hold back a moan. She could get an incredible glimpse of your breasts.

After clearing her throat to clear her thoughts, Emily argued. "I know you're comparing yourself to JJ."

Your face turned pale at the exactitude of what she was saying and your jaw clenched. You let out a nasal scoff, but your eyes filled with tears and you went back to playing with the bath bubbles.

The silence that emerged in the bathroom was uncomfortable for both of you, and to your surprise, Emily was the first to break it. "I can sponge your back if you want."

Your eyes widened, surprised by the suggestion. Getting to see a less evil side of Prentiss was one of the things you least expected in your entire life. You were so used to the older agent's surly manner and never thought that one day she would invite herself to help you take a bath. As awkward as the situation might be, you thought it best not to tease her, eager to see how she would deal with everything.

As soon as you handed the damp sponge to Emily, she swallowed hard, asking you to sit up straighter so she could do the task properly. The minutes passed like hours, so much so for you, who was sighing at the good feeling of having a decent massage. But also for Emily, who was already starting to regret having suggested it. Every time you sighed, she felt her heart rate increase.

"You shouldn't be sad if Reid doesn't like you." A sigh escaped your lips as soon as you heard Emily's words, feeling your neck tense again. "I'm serious."

You closed your eyes to hold back any vulnerable outbursts you might accidentally let out. So you chose to turn the matter against her. "Aren't you mad at Reid?" The question left her confused, stopping rubbing your back so she could stare at you. "He likes your girlfriend."

The words made Emily chuckle and she returned to focusing on the task, despite continuing to look at you. "JJ is not my girlfriend."

She smirked after your curious face. "What? Why the surprise? Not all the women I fuck are my girlfriends." She ran the sponge down your neck and you gasped, going back to watching the water to distract yourself from the unexpected sting in your pussy. Emily was so focused on your breasts that she didn't even seem to notice how you were sighing heavily at her touches. "JJ's an amazing woman, but I'm not looking for a relationship right now."

"Of course." You scoffed, taking a deep breath as Emily leaned in closer, lowering the foamy sponge to your collarbone, quickly stroking the opening between your breasts. "If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you were trying to have sex with me."

Emily's eyes widened and she stared at you in shock for a moment, but put on a stoic expression before saying. "Maybe." She sponged the spot a second time, enjoying watching how you squirmed at the sensation. "Would you say yes?"

You reflected on the possible pros and cons of all that. You two hated each other like cats and dogs, you could barely be near each other without losing your temper. There was a good chance the sex would be horrible and Emily would go around making fun of you with the rest of the team.

But on the other hand, you were very hurt and frustrated by the discovery of Spencer's feelings about JJ. Any casual sex would be a huge help, even if it was with the most insufferable person in the BAU.

Instead of answering verbally, you tilted your head back further, making Emily's hand slide better over your chest, your skin filling with the pink foam.

"Good girl..." Emily hissed, biting her lip, squeezing the sponge and pressing it into you more firmly. You sighed when Emily passed the object over the tip of your left breast, the gentle touch making your legs twitch in the tub.

Emily did the same with the right breast, dropping the sponge back into the water before looking at you, noting how beautiful you looked with your flushed cheeks and wet soapy breasts. "I lied. You're really quite a vision."

You smiled softly, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you hated me."

A snort escaped Emily's red lips and she ripped off her matching shirt, making you even more embarrassed to see her lack of bra, her heavy breasts so close to your face as she bent down so she could run her fingers over you neck. "I fucking hate you, sweetheart. Don't worry." She purred in your ear, while her hand applied light pressure to your throat. "That's not gonna change just because I'm about to make you cum."

You gasped at the gentle grip, but your focus shifted to her lips, so red and luscious. Emily seemed to notice your desperation, as she soon allowed you to taste them, breaking the distance between you by kissing your lips hungrily.

Then your legs tremble during the kiss. You couldn't tell if it was due to Emily's gentle bites on your lower lip, if it was due to her careful choking on your neck or if it was due to her other slender fingers that were playing with your nipples, twirling the little buds.

"E-Emily..." You moaned her name into the kiss and she chuckled softly.

"Are we on first name terms already? I thought you hated me." She teased, using your own previous words against yourself. "Just relax, sweetheart..."

She finally let go of your neck and you gasped, your lungs grateful for the air. You didn't have time to answer properly, falling silent when she began to grip your soapy breasts, enjoying the mounds and biting her lips. "Fuck... Reid has no idea what he's missing."

You frowned, not wanting to hear anything about Soencer. You wanted to pretend you weren't mad at him. You just wanted to cum and leave to deal with your feelings the next day. Then you moved your hand to Emily's breast, taking advantage of the fact that it was so close to your face. Her breasts were so heavy and beautiful that you moaned just caressing them. You had never slept with a woman before, but you were starting to understand why JJ couldn't look away from Emily's neckline whenever they were in public.

"You like them?" Emily asked with a sigh and you nodded silently, your thumbs playing with her pink nipples. "You wanna put them on your mouth?"

The question was so fucking obvious. Your mouth was watering just thinking about those delicious mounds on your lips. "God, yes... Please."

Emily scoffed at the way you begged, but did as you asked. She leaned over until her breasts were right above your face. Your underwater body arched upwards and you began licking her pointed nipple, hearing her soft moans. She gasped as you sucked on one breast and switched to the other, looking desperate like a hungry baby. "Such a good mouth..." Emily growled, looking at your body arched in the bathtub, the sight of your pussy finally appearing made her moan even more, bouncing her breast on your mouth to encourage you even more. She ran one of her hands down your belly, watching your body tremble and shiver until she touched the soft hairs on your pussy.

You squirmed slightly, removing the nipple from your lips so you could moan loudly at the unexpected sensation. The water from the bathtub made your pussy even more slippery as she rubbed your clit. “That feels so good…” You pursed your lips, trying to hold on to the tub as Emily increased the speed of the rubbing.

"I know, sweetheart... You're creaming my fingers." Emily whispered mockingly, using her free hand to press you back onto her breasts, moaning at the feeling of your warm mouth. "Have you done this before?" While you nibbled on the soft flesh of her mounds, you muttered a denial. "Fucking in the bathtub or fucking with a woman?"

Your cheeks turned red again and you opened your legs wider, allowing Emily's fingers to move down from your clit to your opening, one finger entering inside you. "Both." You muttered and she nodded, biting back a scoff that wanted to escape. She fingerfucked you a little harder, adding one more and rubbing her thumb over your pleasure spot. "You're so tight..."

You didn't know how to thank her for the praise, so you focused on sucking her nipple, closing your eyes so you could whimper muffledly every time she increased the speed of the movements, water starting to splash out of the bathtub and making a mess in the hotel's bathroom.

When Emily started fucking you faster, you felt your mind going into a state of ecstasy mixed with agony. You never felt anything like this before with another person, the boys you sporadically had sex with didn't seem to be able to fuck rough and good the same time, it was always very dull or very aggressive to the point of being painful for you. There was no middle ground. But Prentiss seemed to find the perfect formula. As you felt her add a third finger, you tried to wriggle away from her touch, the stretch now being equivalent to a thick cock.

"Just relax, sweetheart..." Emily tried to calm you down, keeping you steady with her other hand. You moved away from her chest, making a saliva noise when one of her breasts escaped from your red swollen lips. The worried look on your face softened her. "Trust me, okay?"

You wanted to defend yourself, to say that you weren't scared by the intense stretching inside your pussy, but rather by the pleasure unlike anything you had ever felt. It was all too confusing and new. "It's so good..." You practically sobbed and she furrowed for a few seconds, realizing why you were trying to distance yourself from her fingers.

"Oh, sweetheart... No cock fucked that pretty little pussy of yours so good like that?" She teased and despite knowing she would make fun of you for the rest of your life, you shook your head. "Poor little girl..." Emily scoffed, kissing your forehead and keeping to fuck you, your walls clenching around her three fingers as your clit throbbed from the friction her thumb was causing. “Enjoy it, sweetheart. You'll realize that it's not worth crying for a man if you can distract yourself by cumming in my hand."

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

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vvanillal · 4 months ago

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𓄹⠀𓈒⠀ㅤׄ Insatiable ꣑ৎ 𓄹⠀𓈒⠀ㅤׄ

Summary- After getting paired up with Harry for a project, things take an unexpected turn.

Warnings- Smut, Enemies to Lovers, Sub!Harry Potter x Dom!Reader, Degradation Kink, Exhibitionist Kink if You Squint, Dry Humping, Name Calling

Word Count- 3.2k!

Notes- This is the first fic I’ve wrote for Harry Potter! I’ve been a fan for a long time though. My request are open, so please send some things in. Any ideas you have. Should I do a part 2? LISTEN TO THE SONG ITS SO GOOD I SWEAR.

Potions class remained one of your favorite classes throughout the years at hogwarts. You found it quite fun, even if the teacher was Snape. Every time the question of what class was the best got brought up, your friends' faces would twist in confusion. Snape just added to the fun of the class, in your opinion. So that's where you were, in potions class.

“We don’t have many group projects in this class, but as the end of the term is approaching I’ve decided to assign one,” Snape said, his eyes threatening against any protest as he looked around the classroom. Whispers about who was going to partner with who erupted almost instantly. You turned around, eyes meeting with your friend. All that was needed was a nod in exchange to know the two of you would partner up. “Nope. Absolutely not. You and Mr Weasley are not to be partners,” started Snape, “But sir-” he looked at Potter threateningly, making him shut up before he could even finish his sentence. “Let see,” Snape's eyes scanned the room for a new partner for Potter, “Please not me, Please not me,” You whispered to yourself. “Y/L/N.” You groaned, your fingers massaging your temples. For some reason, you instantly got a headache.

You could feel Potter's continuous glare throughout the class. You see, you and Potter were nowhere near friends. In fact, you were enemies as established as it could get. He hated the ground you walked on, and you did the same. The two of you were friends in the first year, until he realized you were also friends with Malfoy. It didn’t end well after he asked you to choose between the two of them, and you weren’t going to do that. You and Draco had been childhood friends prior to that, meeting each other through your parents. After 7 years, you were still at each other's throats every chance you got. Apparently Snape hadn’t realized pairing you and Potter together was worse than letting him Pair up with Ron.

“Your job will be to test ‘unknown’ potions, and find out what they are. I’ve gotten permission from Professor Dumbledore to let you test the potions however you see fit” When Snape turned his back, a paper ball had been thrown your way, hitting you on the shoulder. You knew who threw it, you didn’t even have to look up to find out. You uncrumbled it and read the words. Meet me in the Gryffindor common room at 7:00 it read, with poorly drawn middle fingers all over the paper. If it hadn’t been from the worst person imaginable, you might have laughed. He wanted you to sneak into the Gryffindor common room, which was nearly impossible.

Once it was time to go, you pushed through people to get to Potter. Before he could start his way down the stairs, you grabbed his wrist. He turned around instantly, and once he realized who it was he pulled his wrist back and wiped in on his robes. His face scrunched up in disgust at the sight of you, and your touch. “Oh please, I’m not poisonous,” you rolled your eyes. “What do you want?” He says sharply. You held the note up, “Are you fucking stupid? There’s no way in hell I'm going to be able to get into your common room;it’s forbidden,” You say. You hadn’t even said enough to each other to be considered having a conversation, and your blood was already boiling. He shrugged, a smirk on his face, “That’s the point. You know I don’t care to fail one assignment, but I know you do.” You took a step forward, just inches away from his face, “When I get into that bloody room, you better have your ass sat and ready or I'll find you myself and test every potion on you regardless of the consequences,” You spat. His smirk only grew, “you wish,” he stated before walking down the stairs. You scoffed to yourself, and unclench your fist that were now causing crescent shapes to appear, from your nails.

You walked to your next class with only one person on your mind:Potter. How was it that he was the schools ‘it’ boy? Everyone was constantly on about his bravery, and sweetness, but he was quite the opposite to you. Apparently he only had a selected few he was an absolute dick to. You just didn’t get it. He was constantly making fun of you; so much that every other day someone had come up to you with something he was saying about you.

At dinner, he and Ron kept turning around and looking at you, or it would be just Harry waiting for you to notice him so he could roll his eyes. You would just roll your eyes in return. You scooted so that your friend was blocking you better, which meant you also couldn’t see Potter anymore. As you were having a conversation, another paper ball had been thrown at you, landing in your mashed potatoes. You looked up to see Potter and his friends laughing at you. You opened the paper once more, and found an image of you being blown up by the potions. Feeling in your pockets, you found a spare bit of parchment from an earlier class. You drew a nice picture of you choking Potter out, and threw it his way.

“I can’t believe Snape paired you and Potter up,” Said Pansy, chuckling softly. You nodded in return, circling your spoon around in your ruined mashed potatoes. “I know. It was honestly one of my favorite classes, but I don’t know about it now,” you sighed. You weren’t looking forward to working with him at all, but somehow it was one of the only things on your mind. “I just need the grade,” you reassured yourself, smiling softly at her.

When dinner was up, you shot up from your seat, not failing to hear Potter crack up in the back. You walked to herbology, finding Professor Sprout messing with one of her plants. “Well Hello Y/N, I didn’t expect to see you here this late,” she smiled widely. “I was just wondering if I could perhaps…borrow one of your plants for a bit of experimenting,” you ask, hands clasped together in front of you. “Well…I actually just planted this one,” she paused for a moment, “I don’t see any harm in letting you borrow it. As long as it comes back in one piece.” She handed it to you, and you quickly took it, looking at the watch on your wrist. It read 6:30. “No promises,” You managed to slip out, before closing the door, preventing you from hearing her response.

You packed the plants back into the school and up the stairs with only one question on your mind: How were you going to get into the Gryffindor common room? You didn’t even know where to begin thinking. You looked up and saw someone come out of the common room. Damn, if you were just a bit earlier you could have easily slipped through. You looked at your watch again, and it read 6:50. You had 10 minutes to figure out how to get into that stupid room. This made you hate Potter even more, if that was possible. You only had one idea in your mind, and there was no way it was going to work. You stood in front of the painting that was guarding the common room. “What business does a slytherin have here,” the person spoke with spite laced in their voice. “With Harry Potter. He wanted to give me something very important, you see. He said it was urgent, and that it couldn’t wait,” you tried. “With Harry Potter you say? Why should I believe a Slytherin,” they responded. You argued back and forth for 15 minutes, until finally, they believed you. You couldn’t believe it, and you almost let it show before remembering what it would cost you. “You have 10 minutes. Anything over and it’ll cost you.”

When you enter the room, you let your eyes scan your surroundings. This was your first time seeing the inside of another common room. It was nowhere near as cool as the Slytherin common room, in your opinion. You see Potter with a book in his hands, his legs sprawled out on the couch. No one else had been in the room. You clear your throat loudly, getting Potter's attention. He looks up from the pages in his book, and the color in his face drains. “How did you-” he began, “just shut the hell up and sit up,” you interrupted. He complied, sitting up and setting his book on the table. You were furious at him; like you always were. You set the pot down on the table, and then sit down beside him…as far away as you could get.

You began getting your books, and paper out of your bag, and he watched you intently. You felt his gaze watch your every move. He was silent, not making a single sound. “So are you going to sit there all day and watch me, or are you going to get the potion bottles?” you gathered all your stuff, and was met with his confused face. “Yeah, don’t think I didn’t see you go back to Snape's room and get the samples,” you scoffed. So he at least expected you to find a way in one way or another. He smirked, getting up from the couch and going to gather the sample potions. When he came back, he decided he wanted to sit a little closer than he was before. You eyed him suspiciously. “What? I don’t bite…not in less you want me to,” he said. “You wish something like that would happen to you, loser. I bet this is the closest you’ve ever gotten to a woman,” your eyes fall over his face. You never noticed the little scar on the right side of his cheek until now, not that it mattered. Your eyes met with his, and his eyes were dark with something you couldn’t make out.

You lined all the potion samples up, with Potter still watching you like his life depended on it. “Listen, I know you're about as smart as a ferret, but I'm not going to do everything by myself. But it doesn’t hurt me one bit to let your ass fail,” you say, mocking his words from earlier. His eyes darken even more at your words, and he unintentionally scoots closer. You raise your eyebrow, “weirdo.” You begin testing the potions on the plant. You had to let the plant absorb the potion, and then record what type of reaction it had, which reveals the potion. “Give me the fourth one,” you say, writing something down on the piece of paper. When you noticed he hadn’t given it to you yet, you looked up and caught his eyes staring at you. “Are you deaf Potter, I said give me the fourth potion,” you raised your voice, clearly annoyed. He jumped, heat rising to his cheeks in the process, “Yes Ma’am,” he said in a hushed voice. You felt your heart jump in your chest, and you couldn’t figure out why. He handed you the potion, his hand grazing yours in the process. His skin was hot against yours, but as soon as his touch came, it left.

Throughout the whole time, he was oddly quiet, only speaking when you spoke to him. You observe the plant in front of you, that now has wart-like bumps on its stems. You glance over at Potter out of the corner of your eye; he was staring down at his hands, rubbing them together. You then noticed he was sweating profusely, but it wasn’t hot in the room, in fact it was sort of chilly. “Are you sick or something? You have barely said a word this whole time. Usually you would be finding every way to insult me,” you said, still eyeing him. “I’m not sick,” he scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. “Then you can do the last potion,” you said, getting a side eye in return. He reached for the bottle on the table, and you noticed his hands shaking rather quickly. The cap to the bottle had been off, and you watched as the liquid swished to the brim with each shake of his hand. And then, he spilled it all over his hand and the floor. You stood up in an instant, you didn’t want the mixture to end up on you. “Are you kidding me, Potter? You couldn’t have done any better than that,” You rush to get some paper towels from the dispenser, continuing to nag on, “I should have known not to trust you with the simple task of transferring the liquid to the plant.”

You sit back down, and grab his arm, careful not to touch where the wetness of the liquid was. You rub the towel softly on his skin, letting it soak up the mess. “I mean seriously, it wasn’t even that hard,” you say. Lifting the towel from his skin, you examine his arm to make sure nothing changed. He could feel your breath on his skin, and he shifted uncomfortably on the couch, suppressing any noises from leaving his lips. “I’m sure you don’t realize how dangerous this could be. I mean how could you,” you run your hand down his arm, feeling for anything that you couldn’t see. Potter whined. I mean actually whined. You looked up at him with newfound concern, “Does it hurt,” you ask, your thumb now just rubbing circles on his smooth skin. He shook his head no, his eyes locked onto yours. You watched as a bead of sweat ran down his forehead, and onto his nose, his wrist still in your hand. You suddenly let go of him, looking over the rest of his body for any other spills. “Did you spill it anywhere-” but that’s when you noticed it. He was hard; A full erection pressed firmly against his jeans. He shifted uncomfortably once again, trying to hide it.

You stood back up, gathering your things hurriedly. “W-Wait- What are you-” he started, but you interrupted “I can’t believe you.” And then, you started laughing, and for some reason you couldn’t seem to stop. “I’m sorry… I just can’t believe this whole time, you’ve been getting a rise out of me being mean to you,” you shook your head disapprovingly. His face was filled with worry, his hands reaching for nothing. “Please don’t tell anyone,” he said. You stopped laughing, and you couldn’t help but notice the state he was in. He was genuinely a mess, his hair sticking to his forehead, his cheeks were flushed, and he was breathing heavily. He gulped under your gaze, his mouth going dry. Now, you just felt angry with yourself; because for some reason, you felt flattered. You don’t know what came over you; you found yourself walking toward him. He looked at you desperately, and for the third time, shifted in his seat. With every step, you could visibly see him breathe heavier. You stood between his legs, and you brought your hand to the side of his face, letting your thumb caress the side of his cheek. “Tell me how much you want me,” you said, watching his pupils dilate at your words. His breath hitches, his lips part, and he leans into your touch. “S-So bad- I can’t stand it,” his voice is feathery. “But it’s too risky, Potter. Anyone could walk in on us,” you smirk, enjoying the power you had over him a little too much. “They’re all out s-somewhere. Every last one of them. Please Y/N” he said desperately.

You looked at every detail of his face in that moment, in thought. You tangle your fingers in his hair, and pull at the strands harshly, letting your lips graze the side of his face. “You’re fucking disgusting, you know that,” You say. He nods frantically, whimpering. You pull his head back, exposing his neck, and in the process you straddle his lap. Starting at the middle of his neck, you lick a straight line up to lips. He moans against your lips, kissing you back immediately. His hands find a spot on your waist, squeezing you hard enough to leave bruises. You bite down on his lip roughly, a needy cry erupting from his throat. “I should have known a slut like you was enjoying this the whole time. Do you realize how dirty you are,” you say. You then begin to grind your pussy down on his clothed cock. You were so wet; apparently your body had the same reaction to him. “Yes Y/N,” he moans. “Good boy,” you whisper.

He was a moaning and whimpering mess under you. With each movement of your hips producing some type of response from him. “Take it off,” you command, your hands at the rim of his hoodie. He took it off in a heartbeat, making you moan at the sight. The abs you never knew he had were on full display. You ran your hand down his abdomen, continuing to grind your hips against his. He threw his head back on the couch, making no effort in containing his loud moans. “I bet you would have liked it if there were people here, huh,” you asked, grabbing his face roughly to make him look at you. He didn't respond, but you knew what the answer was. You felt his cock twitch in his pants as you ran your thumb across his bottom lip. His eyes are glistening with need, and now he was trying to contain his moans, biting his lip. He was about to come, from this little bit of action. “You’re truly pathetic, Harry. You better not come yet,” you warn him, and his eyebrows furrow at your words. “But I can't-” you put your hand over his mouth, slowing down your movements, but becoming more thorough.

You wanted to use him like he deserved. You brung his hand to your clothed pussy, and he immediately started rubbing circles on your clit. You moan, biting the skin on his shoulder. “Just like that, Harry,” you praise. You were close yourself, now grinding down on his fingers, which caused friction for himself. “I’m gonna come,” you press your cheek against his, and tangle your fingers back into his hair. He nodded in response. You crashed your lips back onto his as you came; just hearing the sounds and watching you unravel caused Harry to come too. He broke the kiss and let his forehead fall onto your shoulder, a whimpering mess. You both rode out your high, and once you were done, you collapsed beside him. It was truly amazing how no one had come in and saw the two of you. “I won’t tell anyone your little kink,” you finally said, still breathing heavily; he nodded. You stood up and fixed your top, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “What’s going to happen, Y/N,” Harry said. You walked over to him and placed a soft kiss on his lips, “Don’t worry about it. And for fucks sake, clean yourself up.” It had been way longer than 10 minutes, and the Gryffindor guard wasn’t happy about it.

I read one of hollowdeath smuts and it sparked this idea, so go check them out!

#harry james potter smut #harry potter smut #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry james potter #Spotify

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lascvitae · 4 months ago

Text

the hills. — kim minjeong x reader.

"when i'm fucked up, that's the real me."

sypnosis ⸝⸝⸝ park y/n has always hated minjeong, and the feeling has always mutual. growing up as rivals, it only made sense for their rivalry to carry on with them to college. but when minjeong became student council president she devloped a knack for using that power over y/n, causing for the line in between love and hate to blur.

pairing ⸝⸝⸝ enemies to lovers, stuco president!minjeong x campus player!reader

warnings ⸝⸝⸝ profanity, suggestive, alcohol & cannabis consumption, cheating, y/n is lowk big mad, minjeong is down bad

note ⸝⸝⸝ HAPPY (belated) BIRTHDAY TO ME AND MINJEONGGG 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳 and happy new year too!!! idk how i feel about this fic, it’s kinda out of my comfort zone (also its so late rn, i took WAYYY too long to post this)

word count: 4.4k

if there was one thing that every college student looked forward to during midterms, it was the month long break. whether they spend it sleeping, partying, or with their loved ones, it was always the fuel of their excitement.

this had even been the case for park y/n, an extremely popular student yonsei university. the popularity wasn’t due to her looks & lovable bold personality, but she was also park sunghoon’s little sister. sunghoon was notorius for his ability to ice skate, entracing everyone who watched him dance across the ice almost insantly.

y/n went viral after being spotted giving her brother a pep talk before a big performance, resulting in praise for her demeanor and refreshing visuals.

this event lead to her current boyfriend at the time, kim sunwoo, who was one of the most popular campus crushes. he was known for throwing the craziest parties, especially during the breaks.

even though y/n is well-known for breaking hearts and then moving onto the next person she deems worthy, sunwoo didn’t seem to mind this at all. he was happily enjoying his 15 minutes of fame. and in his mind, they were the hottest couple the university had laid their eyes upon.

this hadn’t been the case for student council president kim minjeong, who was currently eyeing the said girl with disdain. the annoyance was practically radiating off of her at this point.

minjeong wasn’t the typical president, though. while she exuded the punk and rock aesthetic perfectly, she was extremely nice to everyone. some would even describe her as shy, but everyone could tell that she genuinely cared for the students. with the way she coordinated all the activities, advocated for the students’ needs and concerns, and represented the entire studdent body. her leadership and communication skills were out of this world.

that was with everyone except for park y/n.

they had been enemies — or more so rivals, for years now. it started in elementary school, where they used to be table partners.

their table was pretty far in the back, so the teacher would always reach them last.

on the very first day when the teacher handed out colored construction paper, minjeong took the last blue colored one. the one that y/n had been waiting so patiently for.

that wasn’t the worst part about it all. she even left a friendly comment for her so-called table partner.

“i’m smarter, so i get it instead of you!” she chirped.

y/n smacked her gum angrily, crossing her arms as the teacher scolded minjeong.

“you’re a big fat liar!” y/n spat back, resulting in a loss of two class dojo points.

“park y/n! give me your gum, now.” the teacher scolded, and y/n immediately obeyed.

two more class dojo points that she needed for her favorite candy — the big blow pops with gum inside.

she could still remember the event as clear as water to this day.

and everytime she does, she reminds herself that she is indeed better than minjeong, and she wouldn’t let that anger consume her. it wouldn’t have been possible to beat minjeong in every spelling bee if the girl was better than her.

minjeong and y/n used to compete in the spelling bee every year during middle school, and they would always be the final two left standing.

but minjeong could never beat y/n. and the smile that y/n would give everyone once she got the award was worth losing.

and the time in high school where —

“are you even listening?” minjeong quirked a brow, patience running thin. her teeth grazed against the piercings that looped around her bottom lip. the piercings that made minjeong look ten times hotter.

y/n hated those.

“yeah, whatever. i, park y/n, swear to improve my behavior over the break. can i go now?” the blonde-haired girl shook her head in disappointment.

“today isn’t the day to be testing my patience.” even if there was any real threat behind the warning, y/n didn’t care. she rolled her eyes before standing up from the chair, smacking her gum to take it a step further as usual. she always knew exactly how to push minjeong’s buttons.

“just get out.” minjeong ordered before holding out the palm of her hand, tilting her head as her eyes zeroed in on her rival’s lips.

a reluctant y/n spat out her gum with crossed arms, huffing quietly. this wasn’t uncommon for the two, and y/n was never truly bugged by the action. she only feigned annoyance so that minjeong had a reason to do it more often.

and she definitely did.

“ugh! i can’t stand minjeong!” y/n complained in the canteen, fixing her lip combo as sunwoo held up the phone camera for her.

sunwoo was currently seated with y/n and her friends, listening to his girlfriend rant on and on about their student council president. this wasn’t a new topic for him.

yuqi was absent this time — she had probably been lip locking in a hallway with her boyfriend, waiting to get caught.

“is there something i should know about her?” aeri raised an eyebrow. “she’s my r—“

“mm-mm. just let her finish, aeri.” sunwoo cut her off, waving his hand side to side in the air. aeri could only shrug in response.

“i swear she does it on purpose too… she never reports anyone as much as she reports you.” ningning chimed in, sipping from the lilac stanley cup that sat on the table.

“exactly! urgh, like she’s so infuriating!” her boyfriend, who was more of a decoration, watched y/n work her magic, amazed by how pretty she was. “i swear we’ve memorized each other’s schedule.” aeri’s face contorted into one of confusion.

“maybe she wants to be your friend.” sunwoo shrugged, resulting in y/n giving him her signature eye roll.

“be my friend? baby, come on now…” she had looked up at him for a moment, sighing quietly before passing her attention to aeri instead. “babes! you should totally come to sunwoo’s party tonight.“

aeri was the newest addition to y/n, yuqi, and ningning’s interchangable clique.

while the three of them stuck together like glue, it was never the same case for the fourth person.

but they had high hopes for aeri.

“i wouldn’t miss it, y/n. anything in particular i need to wear?” she questioned.

“just come to y/n’s house. she’ll get you all fixed up.” ningning’s smile widened, twirling a strand of aeri’s hair. and if anyone was paying enough attention, they could see the faint blush appearing onto the pink-haired girl’s cheeks.

“yuqi had designer dresses made for all of us! today’s your lucky day, because we have a fourth.” y/n smirked, stuffing her makeup into sunwoo’s hands.

the boy hurriedly but carefully put everything back into her purse, along with the pink iphone 16 he knew she loved so much.

“it was originally meant for yujin.” ningning explained, sipping from her stanley as they all stood up. “before she went… rogue.” her voice dropped an octave on the word ‘rogue.’ aeri believed that she understood what that meant — yujin had made friends with minjeong and the rest of the student council.

“but it’s okay, because you’re totally prettier.” y/n giggled before grabbing aeri’s arm and walking off, ningning following close behind.

sunwoo dropped his girlfriend’s phone just as they walked off, picking it up and wiping it off with his hands. “y/n, wait!”

“yuqi, we look like cheap fucking whores. i thought you said this was designer?” y/n complained over the music after they arrived fashionably late to sunwoo’s christmas party.

there were already tons of people there. people that y/n could recognize and some that she couldn’t. some were dressed appropriately for the occasion, and some were in casual clothing.

they all had something in common though — hazy clouds filled the air, and the scent of alcohol boomed throughout the whole building. clearly whoever the dj was didn’t give a fuck about christmas, and that was obvious enough with the way rihanna blasted through all of the speakers.

“this is designer! feel the material.” yuqi retaliated, caressing the faux fur that stuck out of the top and bottom of the red minidress. the belt that defined their waists brought it all together.

aeri shrugged, being pulled closer by ningning. “it’s not too bad.”

their dresses were topped off with a matching santa hat, as well as black gloves and boots.

y/n crossed her arms, poking her hip out as she scanned the crowd. they had noticed their arrival now, earning the attention from a select number of the partygoers. she sighed, knowing that she couldn’t leave early because she rode with yuqi.

unless she were to leave with someone else tonight.

“damn, baby. you look good.” sunwoo sauntered over with his red cup in hand, smelling like a mixture of weed and his signature cologne as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss against y/n’s lips.

he was dressed up as an elf. santa and the elf, how fitting for the couple.

“we look no different than the cup in your hand right now.” she pushed him away, furrowing her eyebrows.

“you look good in everything, though.” he pulled her close once more, planting open mouthed kisses to her neck.

“where’s the weed?” y/n subtly pried him off of her neck, clearing her throat. “this is a party, right?” she tilted her head, eyes burning into his.

“just come this way, baby.” and with that, he maneuvered his way through the crowd, being extremely easy to lose due to the dim and multicolored lighting and the way his green outfit looked underneath it.

the group had a bit of trouble following behind. all different types of people were around with their train of thought altered. high, drunk, both. sober.

they staggered into the kitchen, watching sunwoo open the door to a room just some feet away from them. “he went in there.” yuqi pointed out.

“hey! fucking watch it!” y/n shoved a random person after seeing them bump into aeri, who was being pulled close to ningning’s side once more.

the girl turned around, and y/n validated her own anger once she saw the girl’s face. it was ahn yujin.

yuqi stepped in front of aeri and ningning before gasping comically.

“hey! she didn’t even touch her.” a tall girl that had long brown hair spoke up for yujin with an alert expression painting her features. her name was wonyoung or something? whatever. y/n didn’t care.

“bitch, don’t lie! i saw it!” yuqi raised her voice, and wonyoung gave her a look of annoyance. this made both yuqi and y/n’s temper flare up.

y/n moved in closer to give them both a piece of her mind, but she was stopped by the familiar voice that she could recognize over any symphony.

kim minjeong’s.

“yujin? wony? what’s going on?…” the blonde haired girl was accompanied by the vice president of the student council, yu jimin.

jimin had two drinks in her hand, and yujin scurried out of sight. wonyoung was quick to give the two girls an apologetic look before following.

minjeong’s breath stopped as her eyes met y/n’s, studying the girl’s attire whilst her tongue played with her lip piercings. it was like her expression did a whole one-eighty. taken over completely by anger and something else that y/n couldn’t name.

y/n hated it.

“minjeong, huh?” she let out a laugh that was annoying to minjeong’s ears. “didn’t expect to see you here.”

it’s not that minjeong wasn’t expecting to run into y/n. this was her boyfriend’s party.

after all, y/n was the reason why she left the house tonight.

“this doesn’t look like improving your behavior.” her hand waved around y/n’s figure, arms crossed in her leather jacket. her shirt was short enough that her abs were on display.

y/n hated that.

“you aren’t innocent either, president.” y/n motioned to the red cup that was in jimin’s hand.

jimin laughed awkwardly, opening her mouth to de-escalate the situation.

“i earned this, don’t you think? for being valedictorian this semester.” minjeong spoke in a condescending manner, inching closer to y/n. the way she could see y/n’s eye twitch was the icing on the cake, smirk dancing onto her lips.

and y/n fucking hated it.

“you’re not better than me at everything, minjeong.” her words were laced with venom, even though the person in front of her was the snake.

“i’m sorry? name it.” minjeong chuckled, shoving jimin’s hand that came onto her shoulder.

“if you really wanna hear the answer, come smoke with us. i spent too much time on you.” y/n crossed her arms, smacking her gum.

minjeong was slightly taken aback, and jimin noticed this.

“hey, minjeong… we can—“

“lead the way, y/n.”

jimin’s face fell. how far was minjeong willing to go just to prove y/n wrong? her friends were in need of her help right now.

“hurry up! yuqi said sunwoo went this way.” aeri grabbed ningning’s arm, guiding her through the ocean of people as the rest of them followed, leaving jimin there alone.

“president finally letting loose, huh?” yuqi’s boyfriend, juyeon vocalized in an intrigued tone while sparking up both the blunt and the conversation. the group shared laughter of their own.

yuqi was cuddled close next to him, with aeri and ningning exactly to her left.

y/n was seated in between sunwoo and minjeong, while jake sat next to sunwoo. they were having their own conversation that y/n couldn’t care less about.

as the blunt started it’s rotation, the topic of conversation started to get lost. random thoughts were being talked about now. minjeong swore that she could hear juyeon lighting another blunt.

once it y/n passed it to minjeong, all eyes were on her.

“just do it.” y/n laughed at the worry plastered on the girl’s face.

“or are you a pussy, kim minjeong?”

that was all it took for minjeong to take a hit. a big one, too.

she blew out the smoke and immediately went into a coughing fit, sunwoo rushing to get the girl some water.

y/n felt jealousy coursing through her veins over this. but she wasn’t feeling jealous of minjeong.

“hey.” y/n stood up, elbowing sunwoo away from the blonde haired girl. she pat her back, taking the water bottle and waiting patiently for the coughing to come to an end.

once it did, minjeong tilted her head back so y/n could pour the water into her mouth. yet neither of them broke eye contact.

had aeri seen that right? because it looked like y/n pushed sunwoo away just to help minjeong. purposely.

but if sunwoo didn’t find anything wrong, she didn’t find a reason to, either.

all it took was a few minutes for the whole group to be completely faded. yuqi and her boyfriend left the room a while ago, and ningning excused herself to the bathroom. aeri followed to make sure the girl was okay.

this left jake, sunwoo, y/n, and minjeong. jake had the blunt, and he was laughing after y/n politely asked for a game of truth or dare.

“i might admit something i’ll regret later.” he shook his head, eyeing y/n considerably. this didn’t go unnoticed by sunwoo or minjeong.

she nudged y/n’s shoulder, leaning in to speak quietly once she had acquired her attention.

“the fuck does that mean, jaeyun?” sunwoo barked, sitting up slightly.

jake raised his hands, shaking his head as he yielded.

“still haven’t told me what you’re better at.” the president whispered, and the corners of y/n’s lips went upward.

“come here.” y/n grabbed minjeong’s hand as they stood up, sneaking out from the room that was full of hazy clouds.

sunwoo clicked his tongue, leaning back onto the couch as he looked over at his friend. “you gonna keep babysitting or what?”

“my bad. would hate to ruin y/n’s night.” his voice was lower now, and he handed the blunt to sunwoo, who was obviously upset.

sunwoo took a hit while shaking his head, turning his head to talk to his girlfriend.

“you good y/n—“

“the fuck? where’d they go?” he asked, coughing as he took the blunt from between his lips.

jake shrugged, and sunwoo left him alone in the room to start his search for y/n and minjeong.

“he took the blunt.” jake lifted his arms up dramatically.

y/n and minjeong were in the corner of the kitchen, and y/n smirked as she settled onto the side of the table parallel to her rival.

random people were watching as they began their game of beer pong.

“if minjeong wins, i’ll sleep with chaewon tonight.” a classmate named yunjin spoke out.

y/n started the game, easily taking the lead with two cups to zero.

“seriously? you can drink better than me? everyone knows that, y/n.” minjeong spat out once she kept losing. there were ten cups and y/n had already scored four, while she was at zero.

“hey, now. you know what they say. if you’re not drinking, you’re not playing.” y/n teased.

minjeong huffed, realizing that people were recording now. a light flush painted her cheeks. she didn’t want to seem like a total loser, at least.

she played with the piercings on her lip, finally landing the ping pong ball into one of the cups.

y/n couldn’t focus on anything else after seeing minjeong tease the lip rings, slowly losing her lead.

and after two more, the crowd began to ramp up. they were surrounded by red cups and camera flashes.

“yo, the president is about to beat y/n in beer pong!” some guy yelled out, and y/n furrowed her eyebrows. that’s not what she wanted to be remembered at this party for.

then suddenly, the crowd exchanged gasps as all of the cameras were suddenly pointed at y/n.

jimin had splashed a drink onto y/n’s dress, the liquid coating almost the entire top half of it.

and while y/n was enraged, minjeong found it the hottest sight laid upon her eyes. ever.

“minjeong! the fuck are you doing! people are recording!” jimin scolded her, grabbing her arm to drag her out of the party.

minjeong was crossfaded — she didn’t care. she hadn’t even zoned back in all the way yet.

“this is designer, you whore! it costs more than your whole life!” y/n yelled, and the room had gone quiet.

“you bitches post this anywhere and i’ll kill you.” she threatened the crowd, stomping off to the bathroom.

finally coming back to her senses, the blonde-haired girl spoke up. “jimin, what the hell?” minjeong pushed the vice president off of her shoulder, running after the girl she claimed to be the bane of her existence.

“what the fuck just happened?” a troubled sunwoo asked the crowd that had quickly dispersed and continued on with their previous activities.

a few had sobered up, but the rest replaced their tasks with getting wasted.

“i don’t know. chaewon ain’t getting laid tonight though.” ryujin commented, pouring a drink for yeji.

y/n found herself in some random bathroom, wiping frantically at the stain and trail of drink mixture trickling down her cleavage.

she groaned loudly, grabbing more paper towels when she heard the door open and close. it was no one other than kim minjeong.

she even heard the lock click.

the fucking audacity, y/n thought.

“y/n—“

“get the fuck out, minjeong!” she yelled out, words coming out slower than intended.

“let me help you—“ y/n pushed her away, chest heaving with anger as minjeong stumbled back into the door, leaning against it.

“this is all your fault, kim minjeong. she wouldn’t have spilled that drink on me if it wasn’t for you.” y/n yelled, pointing her finger at the girl. “it’s always your fucking fault!”

her words were slurred, but minjeong thought it was the hottest thing ever. had she ever gotten turned on from a girl yelling at her before?

“w-what jimin did isn’t—“

“shut up!” she moved closer to the blonde haired girl, and she didn’t even try to hide the fact that she was looking straight at her chest.

y/n couldn’t help but notice this, and it made her heartbeat accelerate. “you know what? my whole mood is ruined. just… just shut the fuck up.”

minjeong fiddled with the piercings on her lip. she didn’t want to shut up.

“let me take you home.”

“while you’re drunk? no. this is why you just need to shut up.” y/n scoffed, making minjeong want to try even harder.

“then let me pay for your uber.” minjeong spoke up again.

“what do you not understand about shutting the fuck up?“

“please, y/n?” she breathed out, pushing off of the door to hold herself up on the edge of the sink. “i’ll make sure you get home safe.”

y/n looked at the other from over her shoulder, imaging how it would feel to have her lips against her own.

“okay.” the conversation ended there and the room went silent. only for a while though.

“does sunwoo do that?”

y/n’s breath hitched, and she swallowed harshly. “do what?” she whispered back, skin ablaze with the amount of fire that was burning in minjeong’s eyes.

this was the moment that they realized they both wanted each other this whole time. the way that minjeong slammed their lips together proved it.

it didn’t take long for y/n to get into the feel of the kiss, lips dancing together in a rhythmic manner as y/n pushed her back against the door.

y/n smiled into the kiss as she finally fulfilled her dream of finding out how those piercings would feel at her lips, and it had her craving more.

the president let out a quiet moan as her rival’s tongue slithered into her own mouth, cheeks flushing as she lost herself in the sensation of their heated kiss.

“y-y/n...” she breathed out, and y/n pulled back to witness the sight.

minjeong was so cute.

“this isn’t the student council president i know.” y/n smirked, challenging the girl as she connected their lips once more.

they were drowning so deep into each other that they didn’t even notice that someone was knocking at the door.

“y/n? y/n, you in here?” sunwoo called out, twisting the doorknob.

oh fuck. y/n’s stomach dropped.

minjeong took this opportunity to switch them around, trapping y/n against the door as she attacked her neck with desperate kisses.

y/n didn’t know what to do. should she stay silent?

surely sunwoo had heard the noise of her colliding with the door.

should she just pretend that they were some random couple making out?

minjeong had gotten touchy, shakily gripping y/ns waist as she marked her as her territory.

sunwoo was persistent — knocking again as he continued to call out for y/n. does this guy ever give up?

just as she heard another guy approach the door, minjeong bit down on the sweet spot of y/n’s neck.

y/n whimpered at the action, listening to the conversation that happened on the other side of the door with heavy breaths.

sunwoo was asking someone if they had seen his girlfriend.

even if y/n did want to answer now, minjeong swallowed her noises, tongues fighting each other for dominance as y/n traced the other girl’s abs.

she whined into y/n’s mouth, feeling all of her fantasies finally coming to life.

“please, y/n..” it was a desperate whisper as they pulled away just enough to breathe, not wanting to create any more distance.

“i’ll take care of you.” she panted, playing with the piercings on her lip as she eyed y/n hungrily.

“i love it when you do that.” y/n whispered, keeping eye contact with minjeong while the footsteps retreated. “yeah?” minjeong closed the gap between them, pressing their lips together in a needy kiss.

“minjeong— baby, wait...” y/n moaned, pushing the girl away.

“call the uber.”

it felt like y/n’s brain was doing summersalts inside of her head, hammering against the edges with each routine. she groaned, reluctantly opening her eyes as she scanned the room that she found herself in.

the sheets smelled like amber vanilla with a hint of tart cherry. a scent she had come to love and hate over the years.

because it belonged to kim minjeong.

y/n sat up abruptly, breathing frantically as she really examined the room that she was in. she hadn’t even noticed the figure with blonde hair that she had been previously cuddled up with. that’s why she didn’t recognize this room.

because it belonged to kim minjeong.

“shit shit shit! what the fuck?” y/n bounced out of the bed, searching for her clothes that were scattered on the floor. her phone was on the nightstand, and she could see the multiple notifications that she had received from sunwoo.

she collected everything, tip-toeing into the connected bathroom and slipping back into the outfit she had on previously.

the mirror revealed that her lip combo was stained and there were marks scattered over her skin.

she would have to hide all of this from sunwoo.

feeling the realization really sinking in now, y/n grabbed her phone and traversed into the hallway. she saw that there was a door that seemed to lead to another room, and she began to panic more.

of course minjeong has a roommate.

quickly finding her way to the living area, it was barely lit up by the sunrise. the blinds were completely closed, and there was no other light available. y/n could barely see now, so how did anyone even see when they got home?

her mind tunneled on getting out of this mess, finding one of her boots at the door. after slipping it on, she ran a hand through her hair as her eyes scanned the space for the other pair.

it had to be close, right?

she hit her knee on the sofa, yelping and kneeling down to grab it. “fuck!” she whisper-yelled, pouting up at the sofa as she mentally cursed it out.

someone walked into the living room, flicking the light on and y/n fell silent. she froze in place, closing her eyes as she hoped the sofa would hide her figure completely.

“y/n. i can see your hat.” a familiar voice called out.

what the fuck?

y/n jumped up. “ningning!” her eyes were damn near poking out of their sockets.

ningning’s lips spread into a smile, letting out a melodious laugh after she scanned all of the hickeys and love bites scattered on y/n’s collarbone area and up.

y/n was confused and embarrassed, but not ashamed. “wait, but minjeong isn’t your roommate?…” that was when another figure left the room, grabbing both of their attention.

“holy shit, aeri??” y/n yelled out in surprise.

taglist — @saysirhc

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thehoneybeestings · 4 months ago

Text

──˚₊𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭•‧₊˚──

Hello! I'm so glad you're here! To make navigation as easy as possible, all of my works will listed first by universe, second by character, third by fic type, and then labeled for content. Before you get to browsing, here are some disclaimers!

What I do write:

Fluff (F)

Smut (S)

Angst (A) (With happy endings only!)

Hurt/Comfort (H/C)

One Shots

Headcanons

Drabbles

What I do not write:

non-con

x male reader or male characters

any kink I am not comfortable writing; this is up to my direction

angst with no happy ending! I'm not strong enough!

You may also notice that my character lists are a little short! This is simply because as of right now, I only plan on writing for the listed characters; if you'd still like to see me write for a character that you don't see listed, though, please don't hesitate to send in a request!

Happy Browsing!

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞•‧₊˚──

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚

──˚₊𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

୨ৎ (S) Under A Full Moon

Synopsis: Sevika sees you once at Babette's before deciding you're her favorite girl; and luckily for you, she's your favorite client. Thus blossoms an unspoken exclusivity between the two of you... or so you think, until one night, you happen upon her in between your coworker's legs. You're left blindsighted, hurt, and just plain jealous; and worst of all... you know it's unfairly so.

୨ৎ (S) Pretty Girl

Synopsis: Some good ol' comfort sex with Sevika when the body-shaming bug creeps in.

୨ৎ (S) Sweet as Honey

Synopsis: Sevika has grown awfully fond of the owner of Zaun's only bakery; in fact, she'd do anything for her. So, when a hard heat hits the baker, Sevika can't help but offer a helping hand.

──˚₊𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

୨ৎ (F) Sevika w/ a Partner who has PMDD

୨ৎ (F) Arcane Actor Au's - Actor!Sevika x Actor!Reader

୨ৎ (F) Utterly Clueless, Entirely Helpless

Synopsis: Sevika is intent on discovering whether or not you're into women...

──˚₊𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

୨ৎ (S) More, More, More

Synopsis: The last time you slept together, you asked Sevika for more than she had equipped; she makes sure she's prepared for the next time 'round.

୨ৎ (F) Sevika when she's on her period

୨ৎ (S) Service Top!Sevika at Babette's

Synopsis: There's a reason the girls at Babette's fight over who gets Sevika for the night when she comes in, and you're about to find out why

𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐭

──˚₊𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

୨ৎ (S) Sugar Plum

Synopsis: After years of competing for the title of Star Senior at Piltover Springs Dance School, the hatred that Violet Lanes and Y/n Y/l/n have garnered for each other is rendered a waste when in a turn of events, they are both awarded the distinction. When this forces them to confront what feelings they have for each other outside of unbridled loathing, they find that the line between hatred and lust is much finer than they thought...

──˚₊𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

୨ৎ (F) Enemies to Lovers with Dancer!Vi x Dancer!Reader

୨ৎ (F) Vi Sleep Headcanons

୨ৎ (F) Arcane Actor Au's - Actor!Vi x Crew Member!Reader

𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚

──˚₊𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

୨ৎ (S) Royally Screwed

Synopsis: Your best friend has invited you to a Piltover Gala. You wouldn't be so worried if the guest list didn't include Ambessa Medarda: the woman you've been seeing secretly for months, and, of course, your best friend's mother...

୨ৎ (S) Royally Screwed pt. ii

Synopsis: A reflection on the events that led you to your current predicament, in which you've been caught sneaking out of your best friend's mother's room... by your best friend... oops!

──˚₊𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐔𝐬 𝐈𝐈 •‧₊˚──

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬

Coming soon...

𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

Coming soon...

──˚₊𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧’𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝: 𝐎𝐝𝐲𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐲 •‧₊˚──

𝐊𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚

──˚₊𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

୨ৎ (A) (H/C) Feral Creatures May Bite (ao3 exclusive)

Synopsis: Deimos. Named after the God of Terror. To know her was to fear a war weapon forged by fire. Melita seemed to be the only person unafraid of getting burned.

──˚₊𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

୨ৎ (S) Athenian Summer Nights

Synopsis: Your father has offered your hand in marriage to an insufferably arrogant Athenian Polemarch. To make matters worse... he's terrible in bed. What a pleasant coincidence that he's just so happened to hire a certain mercenary known for her excellence in the area?

──˚₊𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

୨ৎ (F) A Place to Call Home

Synopsis: When Kassandra of Sparta runs into Phoibe for the first time in a year, the future she'd planned for herself quickly unravels, and the trajectory of her life is changed. Frankly, she should have figured this would happen; Phoibe always gave her a run for her drachmae.

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

𝐄𝐍𝐃 ୨ৎ

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writingmeraki · 2 months ago

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take me back — c.sc ft k.mg (TEASER)

❝ in which with some people you meet, you learn they are better off as memories.

( or growing up you thought the one who you considered your dearest would stick with you till the end of time but turns out life doesn't work that way and along the way, you find solace in the least expected of places and people perhaps. )

pairings : seungcheol x reader, mingyu x reader, best friend seungcheol, enemy mingyu. genre : angst, romance, bits of humour, fluff, coming of age. warnings : mentions of alcohol and getting drunk, cusses, lots of relation issues, people are mean too,crisis (plenty) about life and all its ugly ( as well as good) points, lots of cameos from svt members and my loml @etherealyoungk :) inspired by — the night we met by lord huron. a/n at end, pls do read <3

w.c : 1.1k for the teaser | estimated 15-20k for final. | note : in "[__]" are the ages !

❝ I HAD ALL — seven to fifteen.

[ begin : seven ]

You knew it was always a wonder how you'd end up becoming friends with him. Even though he was your age, same class, similarly missing teeth, unruly hair, and curiosity that would annoy impatient adults (those who had a longing for their now gone childhood) about how you wanted to know everything about the humongous world and all its tidbits.

Choi Seungcheol. The dimple, wide eyed boy who you found a little suspicious the first time you saw him. He looked a little too happy for someone sitting in the math class early in the morning. Or maybe it was just you who disliked the subject hence you were not as happy as usual having to study it first thing in the morning.

Then again, he was a new student too. After the class ended, everyone seemed to be enticed with him and rushed forward to be his friend, perhaps best friend too.

You were too focused on packing your bag, making sure not to forget your favorite purple pen that you didn’t see who stood in front of you.

“Hi!” Startled, you dropped it on the floor and frowned as it rolled beneath the desk. Annoyed, you looked up at the person, eyes narrowing more once you saw who it was.

“You scared me.” When his smile dimmed down, so did his dimples disappear and he sort of looked like your grandma’s puppy when he would get scolded which made you feel bad for him, in this situation, you felt bad.

“Sorry I didn't mean to, I just wanted to ask if we could be friends.” He murmured to you as he bent down to pick up your pen and handed it to you. “Here. Oh, pretty color!”

Surprised at his words and even more at his compliment, you couldn’t help but grin back at him and nodded, “Isn’t it?! I have more like this and the red is even prettier with sparkles!”

“Woah, red is my favorite color!”

“Mine too along with purple of course!”

You gasped as your eyes widened, all feelings that may have arised of annoyance disappeared.

“What’s your name?”

You said your name, the grin on your face not leaving.

“Can we-can we be friends then? I don’t know anyone except you now.”

And with a nod, you raised your hand for a handshake,

“Okay, new friend.”

Both of you giggled as you shook hands and that day, you went home with a new friend to introduce to your dad.

[ intermission : fifteen. ]

Seungcheol became captain of the boys soccer team and you honestly couldn’t be more proud of him. You were someone who knew about his love for soccer since the very first day and even were someone to help him practice at times so it was no surprise to you he’d become the captain.

But with this newfound title, also came the new friends. Friends you did not expect but you couldn’t say you didn’t like them.

Joshua was sweet actually, as sweet as a fifteen year old boy can be. Probably the nicest out of the whole bunch. Jeonghan was annoying but nonetheless he knew when to shut up if it got too much. Vernon and Soonyoung were petty and pesky and you think one of these days you might just ‘accidentally’ put green dye in their shampoos. The worst was surprisingly not these two but Mingyu. He downright had a distaste and was always clear about it.

And one thing your father thought you was to treat people the way they treat you, so if he was going to be a bitch to you, you’d be a bigger one. He played the part of being a dog almost too well, his floppy hair and puppy eyes at times convinced you he was likely one in his past life. Too bad he also carried the personality of one to this lifetime.

But still, Seungcheol was your best friend. The others, well they were your friends ( you doubted that with Mingyu) but not the type to just greet you, you guys hung out and had fun, except when Mingyu picked fights with you, but it was still fun.

Does knowing someone longer in your life automatically make them of more importance than someone who comes later?

Perhaps it was why you were not able to declare anyone else your best friend because indeed you knew him the longest.

“Okay cut it off you two.” There he finally came, arm over your shoulder and he looked between his two best friends fighting.

Your arms were crossed as you continued to glare at the boy in front of you. He decided to pick a fight and while you were trying not to lose your patience.

You looked up at Seungcheol and he was smiling at you, shaking his head lightly.

“Why are you both always at each other's neck?”

“You mean why is Mingyu so obsessed with me that he can't help but intervene in every thing I do?”

You smirked and blinked innocently, turning to look at Mingyu whose face twitched in annoyance as he rolled his eyes and pushed back his hair.

“Yeah right as if anyone would even want to keep up with you.”

“Mm but see Cheol has…for almost eight years now.”

You mocked him, childishly poking your tongue out. He glared at you, ready to retort as fast as you finished the sentence.

“Again? Knock it out, come on.” Seungcheol cut him off before another screaming match would happen. You truly wondered how the heck did he even become friends with that.

He came after you, he became friends just because of a sport and somehow he was a good friend, dare you say a best friend of his.

Maybe you were petty for feeling like that but you couldn't help it.

You knew him longer. Mingyu came afterwards.

“You two are my best friends, it's sad to see you not get along well.”

You paused. Stopping in your tracks and then you realized that you'd both been walking already with Mingyu trailing along.

Best friend…friends?

“What's wrong?” Seungcheol asked concerned as you blinked up at him as if you'd heard wrong and he looked at you in confusion wondering if he said something wrong.

You pretended to ignore the faint murmur of the word everything falling out from the boy who was beside Seungcheol.

“It's getting late…I should uh…go, Dad will get worried.”

It was as though those three words seemed to affect you. Maybe you were being overdramatic.

But, all the years you made friends, you only declared one of them your best friend. A title you thought was supposed to be reserved for one person.

You learnt that, perhaps knowing someone longer did not mean they would hold more importance than those who came after.

They would hold the same. Or less.

And maybe, that title itself did not have to be held for one person, having more than one didn't seem all too bad…right?

perm. taglist ( open ! ) : @mansaaay ; @gyuguys ; @toplinehyunjin ; @cherrylovescheol

( if you want to be added for this specific fic, just send an ask/reply to this !)

a/n : thank you to my biggest motivator @etherealyoungk for helping me and motivating me to write. i love you so much. and yes this is my comeback fic HAHAHA, i decided if we're gonna be back, might as well be something huge!! this fic means a lot to me and by releasing this teaser i'm hoping it gives me the motivation to fully finish this. i promise u it will get so much better :") i just dk how teasers work im so sorry :") looking forward to writing again and i truly missed you all. mwah <3

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

feedback is always appreciated 💌

links : main navi ! | svt masterlist ! | info !

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yanderestarangel · 2 years ago

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𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐗 𝐅𝐓𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 | 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 - (𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐔)

TW: mentions of football and physical activities, love-hate relationship, enemies to lovers, mention of food, ftm reader, swearing, rivalry, blackmail, miguel is a bit yandere,miguel is 23 years old in this au, indirect manipulation, sex, vaginal sex, light degradation, fingering, sex no protection, creampie, porn plot, fluff, nsfw, smut.

You and Miguel hated each other.

There was no logical reason for the rivalry between you two, but you were enemies, from the first day you arrived at college and on the football team, he was against your staying there, with several arguments but you stayed on the team anyway and he can't do anything.

It didn't stop there, you and he were very far from each other in college classrooms and work, always ignoring each other at times or even exchanging insults and curses in the worst cases.

But Miguel's dark gaze always burned you, always met his, always... always.

And in football it was the same, if you missed a pass on the field he would make a fuss like a tantrum child, but you learned to ignore it, he always tried to "advise" you about passing the ball, but it sounded like a command so you totally ignored it.

He also always tries to be better than you, in his favorite subject, which by knowledge, is also his, he tries to be better about his intellect, bragging about getting more marks than you or winning in a debate - a debate that he always goes against you, even if he agrees with your opinion, he will go against you and make sure to see your face angry with him. -

"-I got 95/100 on my grade and you (Y/N)?" -Miguel would say laughing, cocky, showing you the test score in his hands, but that time you had gotten 100/100 on the test, while Miguel compared the two tests, swearing under his breath, saying that you were lucky to have gotten the questions he got wrong right, or that he hadn't tried so hard on that test - which was a lie, on the day of that test the poor Mexican boy was shaking and sighing next to him, trying to answer everything correctly.

Miguel will also hit you with books - not to hurt you, but to annoy you even more, if you decide to fight back, a mini war will start between the two of you, with you hitting and vice versa, the college professor will call your attention two, and put you both out of the college auditorium, with the two of you momentarily joining in to speak ill of said professor - or rest things on your head, as if you were his stool, even resting his elbow on top of you,

He will love to annoy you, stealing your food in the dorm where you stay on football or interclass days, you had made a pie with your favorite flavor, returning to the shared room after training, you looked for the food, but not the He found it in the fridge, then saw Miguel walk by with the last piece of his pie in his hands, stuffing it into his mouth in front of him.

"-Pie? I didn't see any pie Mi corazón." -Miguel said sarcastically while smiling, licking his lips with the sweet residue of the slice of pie he stole from you, well, the other day you took revenge, taking a pie to college and waiting for Miguel to enter the room and sit down on the side. by your side, as he always did, so you soon hit the creamy mixture of sweet whipped cream on his face, smearing it all over and leaving his face and neck dirty with the white confectionery material, Miguel left earlier that day, passing through the campus all dirty and a grumpy scowl on his face as he swore to get revenge on you.

If you have problems playing, with a judge or even a player on the team preventing you from playing because you are trans, he will defend you tooth and claw, leaving aside all the rivalry that maintains his facade of being tough and your "enemy."

"-There's no problem here, cabrón. This is my teammate, and he's perfectly capable. Don't you dare question his abilities or disrespect him for being who he is." -Miguel growled at the guy who tried to stop you from playing the game, making him automatically retreat.

"-You look strange today, you never acted like this, what are you planning Miguel?"- You ask suspiciously as you saw Miguel smile sideways, returning to his arrogant look while warming up his muscles in his tight football uniform.

"-Oh, mi Príncipe, you think too much. I'm just looking out for my team, including you..." -Miguel said in a purr, placing his muscular arm around your shoulders while biting your cheek lightly, to annoy you, making you push him and give him the middle finger and telling him to go to hell, while he ran on the court passing the ball to you.

"-I'm only going to hell if I'm with you, Mi perrito." -He said laughing loudly, showing you his sharp fangs, giving you a wink as the game continued.

He gives you some strangely intimate nicknames, like 'Mi prince' 'Mi principito' 'Mi amor' 'Mi Chico Guapo' 'Mi Ninõ' and even 'Papi', you always thought it was to annoy you, but every time When he called you that, you could clearly see his lip trembling, and his chest rising and falling, growling like a cat tracking its prey.

Miguel also loves dragging you places with him without warning, whether you want it or not, he you don’t care, he’s stronger and taller than you, easily putting you in a light, playful headlock as he dragged you through the hallways.

"-Hey, where are Cabrón taking me? We have class now! Let me go, Miguel!" -You protested as you were dragged by Miguel's muscular arm, making him laugh as he rolled his eyes at your murmurs of complaint.

"-Today's class is boring, Mi Ninõ, we're going to play a football match, just you and me, and you can call me Mig if you want... Handsome." -Miguel spoke cocky as usual, as he took you to the campus court for the two of you to take a 1v1 penalty shootout, and as always, it ended in an argument, with you and him arguing whether the goal that Miguel had scored was blocked or not, with He towered over you without a shirt, the small hairs on his sweaty and muscular chest appeared, like the smell of musk and men's shampoo in his silky brown hair, as he stared at you angrily, but with something more in his eyes.

"-Are you challenging me Mi Chico Guapo? Hm? You shouldn't play with fire, you might end up getting burned, you know?" -O'Hara spoke in a serious and dangerous tone, with an intimidating look, as he bent down to the level of your face, touching his nose with yours, as he looked deep into your eyes, you could see the Adam's apple in his throat. of him rising and falling, while listening to the accelerated beat of his heart, Miguel on the other hand, felt his own cock twitch in his pants, wanting to have you, wanting to fuck you on his knees right there, make you scream his name for everyone to hear , the way you stared at him, challenged him, said his name... You were fucking incredible.

Miguel felt his dick already soiling his underwear, so he decided to leave, saying it was a draw, quickly looking for a college bathroom to relieve himself, locking himself in a stall, sitting on the toilet lid and taking his dick out of his pants while making movements - back and forth - thinking about you and moaning your name softly, biting his own hand, wishing he had you on your knees for him, with your mouth full of his dick, as he fucked you mercilessly, making you his, his handsome boyfriend.

Your rivalry continued for a while, until the day of the college interclass, where you would also play, on your own merit and effort, but also with secret help from Miguel, who heard that the coach didn't want to let you go because you were transmasc, so he simply followed the coach's routine, and discovered all his dirt, mainly an extramarital affair with a college professor, and threatened him, that if he didn't let you participate in that day's football game, he would spread it all over college the compromising photos of the coach and his lover, and well, you went to play.

𝑴𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝑶'𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒍 𝒊𝒏 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍, 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒅𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒅 ��𝒐𝒖.

On the day you went with the football team to another interclass game, while you heard all the boys on the team making noise and you sat in the back, with Miguel in front of you, he immediately looked at you with a little concern, noticing your discomfort.

"-What's wrong Principito can't handle a little noise? What are you doing on the team then? Hm?" -Miguel said, turning to you in the front seat, with a thick and hoarse voice, with a cocky smile on his full lips, you told him to fuck off as always, making him laugh and make a provocative pout, as he walked towards you, sitting on the side, his side and closing the window and giving you his bottle of water.

"-Drink perrito, I don't want you dehydrated for our game, it's an important day, for me and for you." -Miguel spoke, looking at you with authority and concern, with his calloused and rough fingers touching his forearm, you can feel his warmth radiating from his touch, the contrast of his gentle nature against his usual rough exterior leaving you a bit speechless. His brown eyes are filled with a softness you've never seen before, a vulnerability that surprises you. And for a brief moment, you see a glimpse of a different side of him, a side that that day you would see a lot of.

You entered the field for the interclass, Miguel's eyes are fixed on you as you enter the field, a mix of pride and possessiveness evident in his gaze. He passes the ball to you with perfect precision, setting you up for success. And when you score the first goal, the crowd erupts in applause, their voices mingling with the beat of your heart, As the game continues, you can feel the energy and excitement pulsing through your veins, Miguel's presence, however, It's something totally different. His eyes never leave you, his gaze is intense and possessive. You can practically feel his desire to claim you as his, to show the world that you belong to him both in victory and defeat.

When the final whistle blows and your team emerges victorious, the crowd goes into a frenzy. They run to the field celebrating their victory, but in the middle of it all Miguel's voice cuts through the chaos.

"-¡Mi Príncipe! You were exceptional out there. Everyone saw your talent, your strength. You proved everyone wrong." -Miguel speaks, there is a feeling of pride in his voice, mixed with his usual burning passion. And when he pulls you into a tight hug, his muscles tense against his smaller frame, leaving you imprinted with the essence of his scent.

"-You are mine, my little warrior. And no one can ever take that away from us." -He spoke softly to himself, while looking at you with hunger and desire in his eyes.

That night, after all the celebration on the field, you decided to go and rest in the hotel room, which coincidentally was the same as Miguel's - who, in fact, was the one who asked to change rooms with the other teammate who was there before, so I can be close to you. - you ignored his things there, throwing yourself on your bed, while you felt a familiar presence enter the shared room, Miguel.

Miguel enters the hotel room with a victorious smile on his face as he joins you. He seems oblivious to any tension that might exist between the two of you, simply eager to revel in the team's success. "-¡Mi Rei We did it! We showed everyone what we're made of. And you, my little warrior, stood out."

O'Hara begins to undress, discarding his dirty uniform and revealing his chiseled physique. His eyes land on you, He approaches the bed, his voice low and husky. "-You've had quite a day, haven't you? Tell me, mi chiquito, does victory make you feel alive? Does it awaken that fire inside you?" -As he speaks, Miguel approaches, his scent mixing with the warm air of the room. His voice is almost seductive as he approaches you, his fingers brushing your exposed thighs.

"-Because tonight, my love, we have something else to celebrate, you think I hate you, mi Príncipe, but you have no idea how much I crave you. Every breath you take, every move you make, it drives me mad. " -He moves closer, his hot breath passing over your lips. With that, Miguel captures your lips in a deep and burning kiss, his tongue seeking to enter your mouth with a hunger that matches his own desire. His free hand runs down your body, caressing your thigh and getting closer to the wet heat that awaits his touch, reaching your wet pussy beneath your clothes, massaging it lightly with his thick fingers, while biting your lower lip into the kiss.

"-Oh, mi Príncipe, I've dreamed of this moment for so long. I've imagined the sounds of your pleasure, the taste of your skin, the way you'd respond to my every touch." -He moves to his knees, straddling your waist as he gazes down at you. The bulge in his shorts is now prominent, his desire evident in every breath he takes.

Miguel takes his throbbing dick out of his boxer shorts, a thick and needy member, full of obvious veins and the tip leaking cum, He tease your clit with the head of his shaft, his touch deliberate and sensual. His voice is a low rasp as he speaks, his lips brushing against yours.

"-You're so fucking beautiful, mi Príncipe. Your tight little pussy belongs to me, and I'm going to claim it, every last inch of you." -With a slow, deliberate motion, he guides himself to your entrance, the tip of his cock brushing against your slick folds. He meets your gaze, Miguel eyes locking onto yours, his hips moving with a controlled restraint as he enters you fully. He relishes in the tightness of your pussy, the sensation of being completely enveloped by your warmth.

"-That's it, mi putita, take me all in, every inch. Your pussy is so tight, so fucking perfect for my cock." -O'Hara sets a slow and steady pace, his thrusts deep and deliberate, filling you up with each movement. His grip on your hip tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh as he holds onto you, ensuring his dominance over your body.

"F-fuck, mi Príncipe... You're such a good boy, taking my cock so well. Your pussy belongs to me, and I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight."

"-You're mine, mi amor, and I'm going to make you come undone. You're going to scream my name, beg for more." -Miguel's thrusts become even more powerful, the intensity increasing with each movement. The sounds of your moans and skin slaps echo through the room, a symphony of pleasure, he inserts his dick all the way into your pussy, easily feeling your uterus, while your walls squeezed him with all their strength, making Miguel whimper and mark you again , clamping its fangs into your skin tightly.

"-You're going to take my cum, mi amor. You're going to feel it deep inside you, filling you up. And there's nothing you can do to stop it, come now mi putito, on my fucking cock, I want to feel you cum."

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archangeldyke-all · 11 months ago

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prologue to the next ao3 fic i'm writing! it's childhood friends to enemies (to lovers) with sevika! hope you enjoy <33

30 years ago

Sevika trudges through the streets, kicking a rock along as she goes. Being ten fucking sucks.

At the time, Sevika always thought that six would be the worst year of her life. That was the year her mom died. It was also the year her dad started drinking. But now she’s older and wiser; finally big enough to work in the mines: and Sevika’s beginning to suspect that life just gets worse and worse until you’re lucky enough to die.

Seven was worse than six. Seven was when Sevika learned that if she was going to steal and scam to feed herself, she was also going to have to fight. Sevika got her nose broken four times when she was seven.

Eight was when she got tall and smart enough for her dad to feel threatened by her. It was the first time her nose had ever been broken by him.

And nine was when her childhood cat died. She found poor little Ladybug in the back corner of her dad’s closet, cold and stiff, curled up on top of her mom’s favorite red poncho.

But even in those years Sevika wasn’t constantly sore, and her feet weren’t always blistered and bleeding, and she wasn’t coughing up dust all the time.

And now she is. For less than a hundred bucks a week.

Still. She has found one nice thing about being ten.

“Sevika!” You squeal as you sprint up to your best friend’s side. Sevika tries to bite back her smile. She’s pretty sure she succeeds.

“Easy.” She grunts as you launch yourself into her arms. You’re clinging around her waist, uncaring of the fact that she’s covered in soot. When you pull away to grin up at her, your cheek is smeared in black dust. Sevika chuckles and wipes it clean for you. “Hey, Honeybun.” She greets. The nickname makes your smile impossibly wider.

“How were the mines today?” You ask as you haul your old flour bag over your shoulder. You’re so tiny, still only seven, and the bag is half your size. Sevika sighs, easily lifting it out of your grasp and hitching it over her shoulder for you.

“Eh. You know.” She shrugs, trying to act tough, like she wasn’t just on the verge of tears from exhaustion. “How’s your Gramps?” She asks. You shrug, digging around in the little satchel you keep slung over your side.

“He says to say hi to you. He said if I sell all these buns I can take five dollars of the profits.” You gesture to the bag hanging off Sevika’s shoulder. “Wanna help? We can use the money we earn to get some spicy slugs from Jericho’s!” You offer. Sevika grins. She’d say yes even if you weren’t buying her food.

“I got nothin’ better to do.” She says cooly as you pull a bundle of fabric out of your bag. You unravel the scrap, and Sevika knows what’s wrapped in it before you can even unveil it. She can smell the cinnamon. You reveal the pastry to her with a grin, and her belly growls. Sevika briefly wonders if the sound is from her hunger, or if it's from the bugs that always seem to be crawling around in her stomach when she’s with you. She snatches the treat out of your grip and tears into it, trying to distract herself from the fuzzy feeling in her chest. “Cinna-roll for my Cinna-Sev.” You sing-song. Sevika rolls her eyes, nudging you with her elbow and huffing an embarrassed laugh.

“Fuck off.”

She follows you blindly, letting you lead her up the winding streets of the Undercity and toward the docks. You’ve got a few spots around the city you frequently visit to sell baked goods, and judging by the way sailors are grinning and waving at you, this is one of them.

“Bread girl!” A woman hauling a net full of fish off a boat calls. You giggle and wave at her.

This has been the best part of Sevika’s days as of late: passing out bread to strangers with one hand, snacking on treats with the other, as you exchange and count coins and loafs with your adoring customers.

Sevika first bumped into you three days into starting work at the mines. You came down to pass out rolls to the miners dismissed at lunch time, and a few teenagers were giving you trouble. Two of them were throwing your bag of rolls over your head in a cruel game of keep away, while the third teen was snooping through the little coin purse you’d dropped. You were pathetic, and clearly about to be robbed blind, and Sevika was tired. But… She couldn’t help herself, and she stepped in to defend you.

You both ended up getting beaten to a pulp, and you still got robbed; but she earned your friendship.

You’ve been there to pick her up from work when she gets off every day since then. She gets teased endlessly for it. She’s ten, and you’re only seven. All the kids she works with want to know what she’s doing with a baby like you. But those kids haven’t tasted your grandpa’s treats. And they’ve never made her laugh like you do.

Sevika watches you work with a small smile. She wonders if you know how cute you are and play it up to sell more buns, or if it’s really just you. Bugs start crawling around in her stomach again, and Sevika tears her eyes away from you, looking up at the sky instead.

It’s rare that she ever gets to see so much sky. Down in the Undercity, the sky is sliced into thin slivers, only visible from the right angles. Up here you can’t escape it. The sun’s starting its slow descent, and the blue sky’s turning a sweet yellow. A storm’s brewing in the west, dark clouds starting to cover the very edge of the horizon.

In the river, the dock starts to fill up with fishermen and tug boats docking for the night. The swell of sailors and seamen quickly buy up all your buns, but you’re in no rush to leave the docks, and Sevika’s never in a rush to get home.

So, she kicks off her shoes and socks and rolls her pants up, sitting beside you at the end of the dock, both of your feet gently kicking your feet in the river below. You’re counting your earnings on your lap, and Sevika watches with a cringe as coins start to slide off your legs and toward the water below. She reaches out and catches a few. “Thanks Sev.” You giggle, reaching for the coins and putting them in your satchel. You snap your bag closed then sigh, leaning over to rest your head on her shoulder. Sevika freezes for a second, and then she rests her head on top of yours.

“How’s your dad?” You ask. Sevika swallows the lump in her throat. She’s never talked about him with you… or anyone, really. But you seem to know anyway.

“Eh. Fine.” She shrugs. You kick her ankle in the water, and a tear falls down her cheek. It's quiet as both of you allow the lie to be true for a while.

“Do you wanna run away to my house? Gramps won’ mind. Y’know he loves you.” You whisper. Sevika’s heart swells, and she wraps her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her chest, hiding her tears from you by kissing the top of your head. You’re so young. Nothing’s hurt you yet. Sometimes, Sevika scares herself thinking of all the things she’d do to keep you safe.

“I’m alright, Honeybun. You don’ gotta worry about me.” She whispers.

Across the bay two men chat, waist deep in the water and clinking bottles of ale together as they bait their fishing hooks. You and Sevika watch the pair for a while, one broad tall man, one skinny and short. They seem to be in a deep conversation, and occasionally their laughs will carry across the river to reach the two of you.

“They’re not gonna catch anything. Storm’s comin’ in, the fish’re all hiding.” Sevika says.

“You’re full'a shit.” You giggle.

“‘M tellin’ Gramps you’re cursing.” Sevika threatens. You jam your elbow into her side, and Sevika cackles. “C’mon, let’s go to Jericho’s before it starts raining.” She says once she catches her breath.

Before either of you can rise, shouts float across the water. The fishing friends have started fighting with one another, their rods forgotten as they shout, splash and tussle. “Are they… playing?” You ask.

Sevika studies the scene. An animalistic roar floats across the bay, and the big man shoves the skinny guy's head underwater. Her stomach drops and she springs to her feet, gathering your shoes and trying to tug you away as quickly as she can. “We need to get outta here.”

“Sev.” You whimper, pointing. Sevika’s eyes catch on what’s got you scared: a growing splotch of red staining the water where skinny arms are flailing and clawing at the hulking figure holding him down.

“C’mon, Honeybun.” She grunts, trying to pull you away from the docks. The sky opens up, the first drops of the storm starting to fall.

“S-Stop!” You squeal. Sevika lets go, worried she’s hurt you, but when you fall to your knees and start screaming across the river Sevika’s heart shatters in her chest. “You’re hurting him! Y-you’re gonna k-kill him!” Your screams are ignored, carried away by a strong gust of wind before they can reach the other side of the bay. Sevika’s tugs on your arm cease, she collapses to her knees beside you.

“Honey, let’s go home.” She begs, her voice wobbling as her hands try to guide your face away from the scene ahead of you. Your eyes keep darting between hers and the fight where the skinny man has stopped struggling completely. The surface of the river is still beside the small echoing rings of raindrops falling.

“S-S-Sevika--” You cry as you lean forward, burying your face against her chest. A crack of lightning flashes in the sky. Sevika puts her hands under your armpits and hauls you up, keeping you tucked against her as she drags the two of you as far away from the docks as she can.

Right before she ducks around the corner, a clap of thunder booms, and a skinny arm bearing a knife breaches the water.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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leenashiftss · 3 days ago

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HIS FAVORITE RIVAL

| “You keep trying to beat me, but you can’t even stop thinking about me.”

Pairing: Yang Jungwon x afab!reader

Genre: Smut, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, teasing & playful tension

Warnings: unprotected p in v (18+), explicit smut (oral, dry humping, slight exhibitionism, etc), dom!jungwon, sexual tension, cursing, reader is slightly younger + competitive, light enemies/rivals dynamic, slight time skips (not that big..I’m inpatient LEAVE ME ALONE), lmk if i missed anything !! Also, my first ever ficccc🥰

Rating: 18+ MDNI

WC: 9,902..

| You’ve spent the last two years trying to one up Jungwon at everything..until you’re forced to share a room with him at the country’s most prestigious boarding school. He’s infuriating, brilliant, and way too good at getting under your skin… and under your skirt.

══════════════════════

You hadn’t even been back on campus for twenty minutes and things were already falling apart.

Coming back from fall break was supposed to be a reset, a clean slate. A chance to breathe before things ramped up again at Valemont, the country’s most prestigious (and most suffocating) boarding academy. You had spent the past week catching up on sleep, watching trashy dramas with your cousin, and pretending, for just a little while, that the constant pressure of being the best wasn’t sitting on your shoulders like a ten-ton weight.

You didn’t think much could kill that relaxed buzz.

Until Dean Baek’s announcement.

“Due to renovations in the East Wing,” she said, voice projecting through the grand marble atrium, “students will be reassigned to new dormitory suites, effective immediately.”

The noise that followed was instant and loud, mostly groans and complaints. Your heart sank. You had lived with Karina and Rei for two years straight. They had become your safe place. You loved them. They got you. And now… you’d be thrown into some random suite with God knows who.

Still, you tried to look on the bright side. Maybe it’ll be someone new. Someone chill. You didn’t have many close friends at Valemont beyond your tiny circle. People either hated you for how competitive you were… or kept their distance because of who you always ended up competing with.

Jungwon.

You hated even thinking his name. It left a nasty, bitter taste on your tongue.

Yang Jungwon was the most irritating person you’d ever met. He was smug, sharp-eyed, and just as brilliant as he was cocky. He had been your academic rival since day one, turning every class discussion into a battleground, every grade report into a war. You couldn’t stand the way he always seemed to beat you by one point, one second, one breath. And the worst part?

He loved it. It’s like he got off on that shit. Maybe he secretly creamed his pants everytime you had got a 98% whilst he had gotten a 99%.

Anyway, the new dorm assignment was tucked into your welcome packet. Room 204B. Top floor. North Building.

You didn’t recognize the name listed under yours, it was scrawled in messy pen, as if the assignment had been changed at the last minute. Whatever. You’d deal. You were tired and running purely on overpriced café espresso.

You finally made it up the three flights of stairs (because the elevators were still being “serviced”) and stood outside your new room, adjusting the strap of your duffel bag over your shoulder. You hesitated. It was stupid, but for some reason your heart thudded a little faster. New room. New person. New chaos.

You opened the door.

The first thing that hit you was the smell, crisp and bright. Citrus. Lemon, maybe orange, but not cheap like a body spray. It was fresh. Clean. Masculine. Fuck.

The second thing was the silence. Well, beside the running water that you could hear from behind the closed bathroom door.

The room was surprisingly spacious, two beds, two desks, floor-to-ceiling windows, and dark oak shelves lining the walls. On the right side of the room, there were already bags unpacked, a book or two stacked neatly on the desk, and a navy tie slung carelessly over the headboard. Am I rooming with a man?

Whoever your new roommate was… he was in the shower.

At least he smells good, you thought, flopping onto the bed. You stretched your legs out, letting your eyes close for a moment. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe you’d luck out. Maybe-

The door creaked open.

Your eyes opened. Your heart dropped.

And there he was.

Yang fucking Jungwon.

Hair damp and curling at the ends, towel slung low on his hips, water still glistening on his collarbones. The steam rolled out around him like a fucking movie scene. He paused in the doorway, one hand running through his hair as he looked up, then froze when he saw you sprawled out on the bed.

The smirk came almost instantly.

“Wow,” he said, voice light and teasing. “Didn’t think you’d be this excited to see me.”

You shot upright like you’d been electrocuted. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He raised an eyebrow, sauntering over to his desk with no urgency, as if he didn’t just give you a heart attack. “This is my room.”

“No,” you snapped, grabbing your dorm assignment letter and shoving it toward him. “This is my room.”

He plucked the paper from your hand, eyes scanning the text. Then, impossibly, his grin widened.

“Hm, we’re roomies.”

You stared at him. “No. No, no, no—this has to be a mistake.”

He shrugged. “Take it up with the dean. I just moved in.”

“Are you kidding me, Jungwon? After all the shit you’ve pulled the last two years—”

“Hey,” he cut in, voice still maddeningly calm. “I didn’t ask for this either. You think I want to share a room with someone who practically throws daggers at me every time I raise my hand?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You raise your hand just to piss me off.”

“That’s only because your eye twitches when I beat you.”

“I don’t—!” you started, then caught yourself. Deep breath. You wouldn’t let him win this one. Not on day one.

You turned your back to him, busying yourself with unpacking your bag. The citrusy scent hit you again, it was coming from the body wash he must’ve used. God. Of course he smelled good. Of course.

You heard him move around behind you, the rustle of fabric as he pulled on a shirt, the quiet thud of drawers opening. The silence stretched too long.

Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he said it:

“You gonna be okay over there, roomie? Or should I sleep on the floor so you don’t combust?”

You glared at him over your shoulder. “Touch my side of the room and I’ll report you.”

He grinned. That stupid ass grin.

—

Two Weeks Later

You were starting to wonder if Dean Baek wanted to drive you into insanity.

Because it had only been fourteen days of coexisting with Jungwon, FOURTEEN, and you were already fantasizing about strangling him with one of his stupidly pressed navy ties.

He was everywhere. In the dorm, lounging on his side of the room like he owned it. In the shared bathroom, humming under his breath like he was in a damn commercial. And of course — always, always — in the classroom, where he thrived on pushing every single one of your buttons.

Three days ago in Literature, Professor Lee had asked for interpretations of the final line in Faust. You had barely gotten two words out before Jungwon leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and interrupted with, “Actually, I think what she’s trying to say is—”

You didn’t remember what he said after that because you were too busy plotting his death via falling bookshelf.

Last Wednesday, your alarm didn’t go off, and by the time you rushed into Advanced Ethics, flustered and one minute late, the only open seat was, of course, beside him. He slid your coffee, half drunken by the way, across the desk with a smirk and said, “Thought you’d sleep through this one. I was gonna be generous but..I guess I got thirsty.” It was your coffee. Your own. He’d taken it from the dorm mini-fridge and claimed it was “fair punishment for waking him up.”

Just YESTERDAY, you opened your locker to find it reeking of orange peels. At least six of them stuffed inside. He walked by whistling, peeling another, and winked. “Citrus suits our dorm, no?”

You were seconds away from writing your own dorm reassignment request.

But today was the final straw.

Because you were in Philosophy (your best subject) and Professor Lee had posed a question to the class that should’ve been an easy win:

“Can true morality exist without consequence?”

Your hand shot up before she even finished.

But so did his.

And she, like the sadist she clearly was, gestured to both of you.

“Miss Y/L/N, Mister Yang. Let’s hear it.”

You inhaled sharply. “Of course it can. Morality is intrinsic, something we’re either born with or not. The moment you tie morality to consequences, it becomes performative.”

You felt good about it. Your answer was strong. Sharp. Professorial, even.

Until he tilted his head and said, all smug and thoughtful, “I disagree.”

You didn’t look at him. You refused. But you could feel the whole room lean in. Your jaw clenched as you continued to stare straight.

“If morality was intrinsic,” Jungwon continued, “we wouldn’t need laws. Or religion. Or guilt. We behave morally because we’re taught there will be consequences if we don’t. Without them, we’re just animals with uniforms.”

Laughter rippled through the room. You gritted your teeth.

“Not true,” you snapped, finally turning to glare at him. “That assumes humans are incapable of empathy unless threatened. Which is—”

“Optimistic,” he cut in. “And naive.”

“Self-righteous.”

“Delusional.”

“Enough!” Professor Lee’s voice cracked through the air like a whip. She pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly at her breaking point. “You two, after hours. Today. Classroom cleanup.”

Your mouth dropped open. “But—”

“I mean it,” she said, not looking at either of you. “I’d rather mop the floor with my own tears than listen to another one of your debates. Five o’clock. Don’t be late.”

Jungwon turned to you and flashed a grin. “Guess we’re spending more quality time together, sunshine.”

—

5:07pm | Classroom 3C

The mop bucket squeaked every time you moved it. The sun had dipped low enough to cast gold over the chalkboards, and the classroom was dead silent, save for your grumbling, and the faint sound of Jungwon lightly sweeping near the front.

It had been ten whole minutes without speaking. A record.

But of course, he broke it first.

“You missed a spot.”

You didn’t even look up. “You’re breathing too loud.”

“Just trying to be helpful.”

“Try less.”

Silence again. The tension wasn’t thick, not yet. Just a quiet undercurrent. A ripple. Barely there. Like the faint buzz of heat from a wire you weren’t supposed to touch.

He moved toward the windows, dusting the frame with one of the rags, sleeves rolled up, his posture relaxed and annoyingly perfect. His tie was gone, his shirt half unbuttoned, something he probably thought made him look casual and mature.

It did, unfortunately. Not that you’d ever say it out loud.

“You always have to win, huh?” you muttered, scrubbing aggressively at a chalk stain.

He didn’t look back. “So do you.”

You paused. Glanced up.

He was still facing the window. Light brushed over his cheekbone like a painting.

“I don’t need to win,” you said quietly. “I just don’t want to lose to you.”

That got his attention.

He turned, slowly, and for once, he didn’t have a comeback.

Your eyes met, and something passed between you. Not fire, not lightning, something slower. Like the curl of steam on a mug. Barely visible. But there.

You were still holding the rag. He was still holding the duster. It was silent. Close. Charged.

Then he dropped the cloth into the bucket and broke eye contact.

“Well,” he said lightly, brushing off his hands, “you’ll have to try harder.”

You blinked, and just like that, the tension dissolved. Gone. Like it was never there.

You hated how your skin still felt warm.

And then, just as if the universe decided to ruin the moment further, the door creaked open.

Professor Lee stepped in, a warm but slightly knowing smile on her face. Her eyes scanned the room, and she nodded approvingly.

“You both clean up well, hm? Your parents must be proud,” she remarked, a touch of amusement in her voice. “And since you seem so dedicated to debating each other at every opportunity, I’ve decided to give you an extra assignment, one specifically for you two.”

You tensed. “An assignment?”

“Yes.” Professor Lee folded her arms. “A written debate. Two thousand words each. One of you will argue in favor of morality being intrinsic — a natural, unchanging part of human nature. The other will argue that morality is a learned behavior, dependent on consequences and social conditioning.”

Your stomach dropped. “You can’t be serious—”

“Oh, I am,” she said lightly. “You’ll submit it next Monday, that gives you time to work on it over the weekend, yeah? And I expect thoughtful, properly cited arguments.” Her smile sharpened. “This should be quite the battle.”

Jungwon straightened, a spark of interest lighting his eyes. “Who gets which side?”

“I’ll leave that to you two. You’re both stubborn enough to sort it out.” Professor Lee’s voice softened, but her gaze stayed sharp. “And perhaps, in writing, you’ll learn something about understanding perspectives other than your own.”

With that, she gave a brisk nod and swept out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

You stood there, staring at the chalkboard, mind racing.

Two thousand words. On morality. With Jungwon.

“Can’t wait,” he murmured beside you, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You turned to glare at him. “You’re not actually excited about this, are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He leaned back against the desk, his confidence radiating off him like heat. “Two thousand words is nothing for me.”

“God, you’re insufferable.”

“And you’re predictable.” He tilted his head. “Want me to pick the side that’ll make you lose your mind faster? Or do you want the honors?”

Your jaw clenched. “I’m taking intrinsic morality. Because it’s right.”

“Perfect. I’ll take the other.” He straightened, brushing off his sleeves and reaching for his bag. “Guess you’ve got a busy weekend ahead, sunshine.”

You watched him stroll toward the door, the weight of the assignment settling on your shoulders, not just because of the work, but because you knew he’d make every second of it a challenge.

And the worst part?

A tiny part of you didn’t hate the idea.

“See you at the dorm, roomie,” he called without looking back, pushing the door open and disappearing into the hallway.

You stood there, alone in the empty classroom, still clutching the rag, your heart racing for reasons you didn’t want to examine.

—

Sunday Night | 2:03 AM

Over the weekend, of course you procrastinated. But not because you went out with your friends or visited family like everyone else. No, every time you managed to type something on your laptop, you convinced yourself it was brilliant. Flawless. Until you neared that two-thousand word mark, and the crushing weight of self-doubt hit you. So you’d sigh, backspace, and start again.

Your work had to be perfect. It wasn’t just an assignment, it was a battle. A chance to outshine Jungwon. A chance to see his smug smile falter.

He was already done.

And he didn’t let you forget it.

“Done already,” he’d announced Saturday morning, lounging on his bed with his hands behind his head, his gaze never leaving you. “Guess the slow ones always win the race, right?”

You ignored him.

That evening, he’d leaned over your shoulder on the way to dinner. “Still writing? You know you can just copy mine. Not that you’d understand it.”

You glared. “I’d rather fail.”

“Could’ve guessed.” He grinned, tapping your screen. “Try shorter sentences. Might help with the whole ‘sounding smart’ thing.”

So here you were. Sunday night. 2:03 AM.

The world slept, along with the boy across from your bed, his even breathing a soft, constant reminder of his existence. Your small desk lamp cast a warm, faint glow, just enough to illuminate the silver keys of your laptop. You sat with your back pressed against the headboard, the cool sheets pooled around your waist, the device balanced on your plush thighs.

Every few minutes, you’d yawn, rubbing your half-lidded eyes. Blinking away the blur. Willing yourself to focus.

But the words blurred together, logic crumbling beneath exhaustion.

“You’re gonna give yourself a fucking aneurysm.”

The voice cut through the quiet, low and amused. Your gaze snapped up, and you found Jungwon sitting up, dark hair tousled and eyes sharp despite the late hour.

“Go back to sleep,” you muttered, fingers tapping out another hollow sentence. “Your assignment’s done, remember?”

“Oh, I remember.” He stretched, arms lifting above his head, the thin fabric of his shirt riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of his toned stomach. “Just didn’t think I’d get a front-row seat to your breakdown.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, though the bite in your voice was dulled by exhaustion.

But he didn’t shut up. Of course he didn’t.

“Come on, sunshine.” He shifted, swinging his legs off the bed. “Your brain’s fried. Why not just admit defeat? I mean, I knew I’d win, but this is almost too easy.”

“Will you shut the fu—” You turned to glare at him, but another yawn cut you off, muffling the rest of your words. Your eyes watered slightly, the dull ache of exhaustion making your vision swim.

And for a moment, he was quiet.

Then his feet touched the floor, and he stood. The teasing curve of his lips softened, just barely, and he moved toward you, slow and almost careful.

“Jungwon, I’m not in the mood,” you warned, though it lacked any real force.

“I know,” he murmured, but his steps didn’t stop.

You stared as he approached your bed, watching his shadow stretch across the sheets. He leaned over you, one hand reaching out — and before you could protest, his fingers gently lifted the laptop off your thighs.

“Hey—”

He replaced it with his other hand, his warm palm resting against your skin, his touch featherlight but steady. The laptop clicked shut as he placed it on your nightstand.

“Let yourself take a break,” he whispered, his voice a touch lower. Closer.

Your breath hitched, your gaze snapping to his, but he was already leaning in, his weight shifting so his hand pressed just a bit more firmly against your thigh. His face was so close you could see the faint shadow of his lashes, the warm undertone of his skin.

His breath brushed your cheek. “Want me to help you stay awake?”

Your heart skipped. Your pulse thrummed against your ribs.

“W-What?” The word barely made it past your lips.

A slow smile curved at the edge of his mouth, something teasing and yet…not. “You heard me.”

Your pulse raced. Heat pooled low in your stomach, battling against the fog of sleep clinging to your mind.

“Jungwon…”

“Hm?” His thumb brushed gently against your thigh, the barest hint of friction.

His other hand rose, bracing against the headboard beside your head, caging you in. The space between you seemed to collapse, every breath shared. Your own fingers curled against the sheets, your chest tight.

“Don’t you want to win?” he whispered, his voice barely a murmur, warm against the shell of your ear. “Or are you giving up?”

Your pride flared, even through the haze of exhaustion. “I’m not—”

“Not what?” His thumb traced a slow, deliberate line against your thigh, the touch featherlight but burning all the same. His weight pressed against you just enough for you to feel the firmness of his palm, the subtle strength in his grip.

“I’m not giving up.” Your voice was meant to be steady, defiant. But it was breathy, almost a whisper, and you hated how it betrayed you.

“Really?” He leaned closer, his lips brushing the curve of your jaw, the faintest touch. “Because you look tired. Frustrated. Maybe you’re finally realizing you’re out of your league.”

A rush of irritation crashed against the heat, pushing past the fluttering in your chest. You turned your head, and suddenly your nose brushed against his, your breaths mingling in the faint glow of the lamplight.

“Out of my league?” you shot back, and despite the quiver in your voice, you met his gaze, dark, intense, a hint of something playful but with an edge. “If I’m out of my league, then why are you here? Why do you care?”

The corner of his mouth lifted, a slow, infuriating smirk. “Who says I care?”

“Then why aren’t you asleep?” You leaned forward just slightly, your forehead nearly brushing his. “Why are you in my bed, talking like—like—”

“Like this?” His lips ghosted over your cheek, the barest touch, before brushing lower, hovering just over the corner of your mouth. “Or like this?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, every nerve in your body strung tight. He wasn’t touching you anywhere but your thigh, his hand still resting there, warm and steady, and yet your entire body felt trapped in his gravity.

“You’re bluffing,” you whispered, though the words felt like a lie even as you spoke them.

“Am I?” His voice was a murmur, teasing, but the warmth in his gaze had darkened. “Because you’re the one still holding on.”

Your hands clenched against the sheets, you hadn’t even realized you were gripping them. Heat rushed to your cheeks, but you didn’t pull away.

Neither did he.

“Say it,” he murmured, the tip of his nose brushing yours, your lips just shy of touching. “Say you want to win. Say you want to beat me. Or maybe—” His voice dropped lower, his thumb pressing just a bit more firmly against your thigh. “Maybe you don’t want to win at all. Maybe you just want my attention.”

You felt the words like a spark against dry kindling, the embarrassment and defiance and heat all crashing together.

“You’re so full of yourself,” you whispered, but even that sounded weak, too breathless to be a real insult.

“Maybe.” His lips barely grazed yours, a touch so faint it sent a shudder through you. “But you still haven’t stopped me.”

You wanted to pull away. Wanted to shove him back, snap at him, prove that he didn’t affect you, that his arrogant, teasing words didn’t send your heart racing. That his touch wasn’t burning into your skin, leaving you breathless.

But you didn’t.

Because in that moment, you didn’t want him to stop.

And it was like he could sense it, the hesitation, the tangled mess of denial and longing.

“Should I help you?” he whispered again, his lips brushing yours with each syllable, your senses filled with the faint scent of citrus and warmth. “Help you stay awake?”

Your lashes fluttered. “Jungwon—”

The way you said his name, quiet, almost pleading, seemed to snap something in him.

His hand tightened on your thigh, his weight pressing just slightly more, the soft mattress dipping beneath you. He leaned in, your lips finally catching, warm and impossibly soft. Not a kiss, not yet, but a lingering touch, a barely-there connection.

His breath washed over you, warm and steady, and his voice dropped to a near growl. “Is that a yes?”

For a split second, the world narrowed, just the two of you, the faint lamplight, his touch. His mouth a whisper away from yours.

Your pride screamed at you to shove him away. But your body leaned forward instead, that ache of exhaustion forgotten, your lips brushing against his in the faintest answer.

“Yes.”

And then he kissed you.

Soft, at first. Like he was testing the waters, coaxing a response from you, but the moment your lips parted, his patience shattered.

The kiss deepened, slow but intense, his fingers curling against your thigh, his other hand braced against the headboard beside you. Your hands finally let go of the sheets, reaching up to tangle in his dark hair, pulling him closer.

His tongue swept against your lower lip, a quiet, hungry sound escaping his throat when you opened for him, and suddenly the exhaustion that had weighed on you for hours was gone, replaced with a fire, a desperation you didn’t want to acknowledge.

Jungwon shifted, his body pressing against yours, the thin sheet between you barely enough to keep the cool air from your skin. His hand slid from your thigh to your waist, tugging you just slightly closer, his mouth tracing a slow, heated path along your jaw.

“Still tired?” he whispered, his voice rougher now, tinged with something darker.

“Shut up,” you managed, but the words were lost in a gasp as his teeth grazed your earlobe.

“Thought so.” His laugh was a low, warm rumble, his mouth finding yours again, your breaths mingling, your world narrowing to the press of his body, the warmth of his touch, the quiet, insistent need growing between you.

His mouth moved against yours, a slow, deliberate dance, teasing, demanding, and then pulling back just enough to leave you breathless, only to capture your lips again. Your fingers curled tighter in his hair, your body arching instinctively into his touch.

But then, just as your senses seemed to drown in the warmth of him, his lips stilled. A slow, almost lazy pullback, just enough for you to feel the cool air slip between you.

He lingered for a second longer, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing warm against your cheek. And then, without a word, he leaned away.

You stared, still caught between a daze and disbelief, watching as he straightened. His touch left your waist, the warmth of his palm vanishing from your thigh, and you immediately missed it.

Before you could even begin to process it, he reached for your laptop. The silver device clicked open, and he carefully settled it back against your thighs, his knuckles brushing your skin with a deliberate slowness that made your breath hitch all over again.

He turned, sauntering back to his own bed, his smirk still painted across his face. The mattress creaked as he collapsed onto it, one arm draping over his eyes.

“Good luck, sunshine,” he called out, voice low and laced with smug amusement. “Hope my little pep talk helped you focus. Try not to drool over the keyboard.”

Your jaw tightened, embarrassment and frustration knotting in your chest. “You’re such a—”

“Genius? I know.” His laugh was muffled beneath his arm, but you could still see the faintest glimpse of that infuriating grin. “Just remember, two thousand words by tomorrow. Don’t stay up all night dreaming about me.”

You wanted to snap at him, to fire back something sharp, but the words stuck in your throat. Because the lingering taste of his kiss, the phantom heat of his hand on your thigh, all pulsed beneath your skin, stubbornly refusing to fade.

Gritting your teeth, you turned back to your laptop, fingers settling against the keyboard. The blank document blinked at you, but this time, your thoughts didn’t feel scrambled. Your pulse still raced, but words finally began to form.

Still, every few minutes, you found your gaze drifting to the boy sprawled lazily across his bed, his breathing slowing, the faint rise and fall of his chest far too calm for someone who had just set your world on fire.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to focus, but then another slow, aching pulse bloomed low in your stomach, heat crawling up your cheeks. You shifted slightly, pressing your thighs together beneath the laptop, the lingering tingles of his touch refusing to fade.

This was supposed to be a battle. A game of wits. A test of intelligence.

So why did it feel like you were already losing?

—

The Next Day

The crisp, sterile air of the classroom seemed heavier today, the weight of it pressing against your chest. Professor Lee’s voice was a distant hum, her stern gaze sweeping the room. But all you could hear was the pounding of your heartbeat, each thud reminding you of the weekend spent drowning in frustration and sleepless nights.

Jungwon had presented first, of course. He stood with that familiar, infuriating confidence, back straight, voice steady, each word falling like a perfectly placed chess move. His thesis was clear: morality was fluid, a product of circumstance and personal experience, a clever dance of logic and eloquence.

You hated that he made it look so easy. Hated how he didn’t even need to glance at his notes, hated the quiet awe in the room as he finished, a satisfied, almost bored smile tugging at his lips. But most of all, you hated that your eyes wouldn’t leave him, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the way his fingers tapped against the edge of the desk, a quiet restlessness only you seemed to notice.

Then it was your turn.

Your legs were stiff as you stood, fingers gripping the paper in your hands so tightly the edges crumpled. You spoke, your voice steady at first, arguing for an absolute morality, a sense of right and wrong that existed beyond circumstance, beyond mere perception. But the weight of his gaze burned against your skin, each word feeling like a struggle to breathe.

“Wait.” Byun Euijoo’s voice sliced through, and your heart plummeted. “Aren’t you just contradicting yourself? If morality is absolute, then why did you mention context?”

“I… I’m not contradicting myself,” you forced out, the calm in your voice slipping. “I’m saying that context affects perception, but—”

“So you agree with Jungwon?” Euijoo’s smile widened, and a few students chuckled. “I mean, if even you can’t keep your argument straight—”

“She’s not agreeing with me.” Jungwon’s voice was a blade, sharp and unyielding. The laughter died instantly. His gaze, steady and cold, never left Euijoo. “If you actually listened instead of trying to sound smart, you’d understand she’s arguing for a moral constant that’s interpreted differently. But I wouldn’t expect you to get that.”

The room fell silent, Euijoo’s face flushing with embarrassment. Your throat tightened, words caught somewhere between gratitude and humiliation. Because even though he defended you, he did it with the same calculated ease he did everything, like you were another problem to solve, another equation to balance.

“Continue, Y/N.” Jungwon’s voice was steady, but his gaze held something else, something you couldn’t decipher, and it terrified you.

So you continued, stumbling at first but regaining your composure. And when you finally finished, Professor Lee offered a brief nod, but it didn’t feel like a victory. Not when Jungwon leaned back in his chair, a faint, unreadable smile tugging at his lips.

—

The hallway was a blur, your thoughts racing faster than your feet could carry you. The cold metal of the doorknob bit into your palm, and you shoved it open, letting it swing shut behind you with a quiet thud.

Jungwon was already there, leaning against his desk, scrolling through his phone, his expression bored. The same face he always wore, calm, indifferent, untouchable. You hated it.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you blurted, dropping your bag to the floor.

“Do what?” His tone was casual, but his eyes never left the screen.

“Humiliate Euijoo. Make me look like I needed your help.”

He shrugged, finally glancing up. “I didn’t do it for you.”

The words were a punch to your chest, sharp and cold. “Right. Of course you didn’t.”

“Relax.” He leaned back, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “If you weren’t so busy overthinking, you’d realize I just hate idiots.”

“Overthinking?” A bitter laugh slipped from your lips. “Is that what you think I do?”

“I don’t think. I know.” His gaze was piercing, a quiet challenge simmering beneath the surface. “You’re so obsessed with trying to be perfect, with trying to beat me, that you can’t even see straight.”

“I’m not obsessed with beating you!” Your voice was louder now, trembling. “I’m just.. I’m just trying to prove that I—”

“That you’re better than me?” He stood, his sudden closeness making your breath hitch. “Go on. Say it.”

“Stop twisting my words!”

“Oh, so now I’m twisting your words?” His voice was sharper, each word cutting like glass. “You’re the one who can’t decide what you want.”

“I know exactly what I want.”

“Do you?” He stepped closer, his shadow swallowing the faint light of the desk lamp. “Because one second you’re glaring at me like you want me dead, and the next…” His voice dropped, softer, almost a whisper. “The next, you’re looking at me like I’m the only thing you can’t figure out.”

Your throat tightened. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Maybe.” His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “But at least I’m honest. At least I’m not pretending.”

“Pretending?” You forced out a laugh, but it cracked, raw and broken. “Pretending that you don’t get under my skin? That I don’t hate how you make everything look so easy? Or that—”

“Or that you don’t like it when I kiss you?” His voice was a low, dangerous murmur now, his breath warm against your cheek.

Your pulse roared in your ears. “That was a mistake.”

“Was it?”

��Yes!” But the word was weak, a hollow lie.

“Fine.” His voice hardened, cold and sharp. “Then maybe I should kiss someone who’d actually appreciate it. Your friend Karina’s practically throwing herself at me every chance she gets.”

Your heart clenched painfully. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” He laughed, the sound bitter, like shattered glass. “What do you care? You hate me, right? I’m just the arrogant smart-ass who ruins everything for you.”

“I do hate you.”

“Good.” He took a step toward the door. “Then you won’t care if I walk right out and—”

But you didn’t let him finish.

Before you could think, before you could even breathe, you lunged forward, your fingers curling around his wrist, yanking him back.

And then your lips crashed against his.

There was no thought, no hesitation, just the overwhelming, suffocating ache in your chest, the burn in your veins. His lips were warm, shocked against yours for a heartbeat, before he responded. His phone clattered to the floor, forgotten.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, the force of it sending you stumbling back. You didn’t care. You didn’t care that your breathing was uneven, that your heart was a wild, desperate drum in your chest. His mouth was hot, relentless, his touch bruising as his fingers dug into your hips.

Your back hit the edge of your bed, and his weight pressed against you, your knees giving way, the mattress beneath you giving a soft creak. His lips never left yours, a furious, hungry dance, his breath mingling with yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, making a gasp slip past your lips.

“Jungwon—” His name was a whisper, a plea, a curse.

“I knew it,” he breathed against your mouth, his voice rough, almost desperate. “Knew you wanted this. Knew you were lying.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, but your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, your lips finding his again, silencing the words that cut too deep.

His weight settled over you, one knee pressing against the mattress beside your hip, the other nestled between your thighs, causing your pleated school skirt to rise a little. You could feel his muscular thigh being pressed flush against your throbbing, hot core. You gasped, his lips trailed down your jaw, a shiver racing down your spine as his teeth grazed the soft skin of your neck.

But then he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his breathing harsh, his eyes dark and wild.

“Should we continue?” His voice was low, strained, his lips swollen, his gaze burning.

The air was thick, the world blurring at the edges. Part of you screamed to shove him away, to end this madness. But your body betrayed you, your fingers still curled in his shirt, your lips tingling with the taste of him.

“Y/N?” His voice was softer now, almost hesitant.

And you didn’t know how to answer. Because you didn’t want to lose this feeling, this fierce, aching, desperate hunger. But you were also terrified of what would happen if you let it go any further.

“Jungwon…” Your voice was a whisper, your chest rising and falling beneath his.

“Please. Please, Y/N. I can’t restrain myself.. please tell me you want this.” Jungwon’s voice was strained, his words came out through clenched teeth.

A quiet, shuddering breath slipped from your lips. “Yes.”

The second the word left you, his mouth was on yours again, rough, hungry, almost desperate. His kiss was a fever, a wild clash of teeth and tongues, his hands gripping your waist like you might disappear if he let go.

You were drowning in him, in the heat of his touch, in the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress, in the way his lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then lower, leaving a scorching path down your neck.

“Jungwon—” His name was a gasp, swallowed by his mouth against your skin. But he didn’t slow. If anything, he grew hungrier, his hands tugging your school shirt higher, the fabric bunched beneath your arms before he impatiently yanked it over your head, tossing it aside, revealing your bra-covered breasts.

“Look at you,” he breathed, his voice rough, almost disbelieving. His gaze raked over you, the bare skin of your chest rising and falling beneath him, your cheeks flushed, your lips swollen. “You pretend you hate me… but you’re already so..desperate.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, but your voice was a breathless whine, your fingers clutching at his shoulders, pulling him closer.

“Make me.” His lips were on you again, his hands tracing the curve of your waist, your hips, your thighs. His fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, and without warning, he tugged it down along with your panties, allowing the cool air to kiss your heated skin.

A needy whimper slipped from you, your thighs instinctively pressing together, but his hands were there, parting them, his mouth leaving a burning trail down your stomach.

“Jungwon—“

But he was already there, his lips pressing to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers brushed against your core, a light, teasing touch that had your hips arching, a desperate gasp falling from your lips. As his fingers left, a string of your juices kept you two connected.

“Already this wet?” His voice was a low, mocking murmur, but there was a tremor beneath his teasing tone, his own desperation betraying him. “And you were going to act like you didn’t want me.”

“Stop teasing me—” Your voice was a broken, desperate whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, trying to pull him closer.

“I’m not teasing.” His lips traced the soft, sensitive skin of your thigh, his teeth grazing, a quiet, needy sound slipping from you. “I just want you to beg for me.”

“I—” Your voice broke, your pride crumbling beneath the heat of his touch, his fingers slipping against you, slow, agonizing circles. “Please. Pleasee, Jungwon—”

“That’s better.”

His mouth was on you then, hot and wet, his tongue tracing over your clit, each slow, deliberate movement sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. Your hips bucked against him, a desperate, broken moan tearing from your lips.

“Please— please, don’t stop—”

“Greedy, aren’t you?” His voice was a low, muffled whisper against your skin, but he didn’t pull away, if anything, his pace quickened, his tongue flicking, his lips sucking gently, his fingers slipping into you, one, then two, a gasp caught in your throat.

“Jungwon—!”

Every slow, curling motion of his fingers, every flick of his tongue had you spiraling, your thighs trembling, your breath a desperate, broken mess. Your fingers clawed at the sheets, your back arching, his name a frantic chant on your lips.

“You taste so good,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost reverent. “So sweet. So perfect.”

Your hands tightened in his hair, another desperate, breathless cry slipping from you, the tension coiling tighter, tighter—

But then he pulled away, and a sob of frustration escaped you, your thighs instinctively trying to close, but his hands were there, holding them apart, his dark, wild eyes meeting yours.

“Not yet,” he whispered, his voice strained, his breathing just as ragged as yours. “I want you to come when I’m inside you.”

You were already a mess, panting, trembling, a desperate, whiny whimper slipping from your lips as his mouth crashed against yours again. You could taste yourself on his lips, but you didn’t care.

His clothes were a mess of fabric hitting the floor, his bare skin warm against yours, his body pressing you into the mattress, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Tell me you want me,” he breathed, his forehead pressed against yours, his lips brushing against your cheek.

“I want you,” you gasped, your voice breaking. “I want you. Please—”

The desperation in your voice shattered whatever restraint he had left.

His hips pressed against yours, and then he was pushing into you, slow, almost painfully slow, a deep, shuddering groan slipping from his lips, his forehead falling to your shoulder.

“Oh—” The stretch was overwhelming, your body arching, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Jungwon—”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost desperate. “God, you feel so—”

His hips began to move, slow, deep thrusts that stole the breath from your lungs, his lips finding yours again, his kiss a perfect, dizzying mix of heat and hunger.

“Faster, please, faster—”

A strained laugh slipped from him, his teeth grazing your jaw. “So needy.” But he didn’t make you wait, his pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours, the desperate, wet sound of your bodies colliding filling the room, your name a breathless groan on his lips.

“Mphm, pulling me in so good—“

Your thighs tightened around him, each thrust sending a shock of pleasure through you, your gasps and whimpers mingling with his ragged breaths.

“Look at you,” he whispered, his voice a low, rough rasp. “So pretty when you fall apart for me.”

“Jungwon— I can’t— I’m—”

“I’ve got you.” His hand found yours, his fingers threading through yours, pinning your hand against the pillow, his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, deeper. “Let it happen baby, let go for me.”

And with one final, desperate thrust, the tension snapped.

Your vision blurred, a shuddering, broken cry tearing from your lips, your body trembling beneath him, his name a frantic, gasped whisper.

Jungwon’s pace grew frantic, his breathing a ragged mess, his lips finding yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. And then his body shuddered, his grip on you tightening, his forehead resting against yours, a low, shuddering moan slipping from him as he followed you over the edge.

He fucked himself into you, rolling his hips as he pushed his white seed further and further. He flooded your womb, wanted you to feel nothing but him.

Silence settled, heavy, breathless, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm, golden light over your tangled, sweat-slicked bodies.

His head fell against your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck, his lips brushing a lazy, almost tender kiss there.

“Are you okay?” His voice was a quiet, almost hesitant whisper, his fingers tracing gentle circles against your hip.

“I—” You didn’t know what to say, your mind still a dizzy, hazy blur.

But his fingers stayed gentle, his lips brushing against your shoulder, his breath slowing.

—

From That Day On..

It was like a switch had flipped. One taste wasn’t enough. One touch wasn’t enough. They were like two predators starving for each other, and the academy’s walls became a labyrinth of stolen moments.

In the dimly lit corridors between classes, yoyr back would slam against the cool stone wall, Jungwon’s mouth already on yours, his hands slipping beneath your uniform shirt, desperate. His whispered curses, your bitten-back moans, dangerous music that echoed off the empty halls.

Study hall became a battlefield of restraint. He’d watch you from across the room, his fingers gripping his pen too tightly, jaw clenched. And the second the instructor’s back was turned, you’d feel his shoe brushing against your ankle, a silent, electric promise.

Before morning lectures, you two would sneak away behind the storage sheds, you pressed against the rough wooden wall, Jungwon’s lips dragging down your neck, hands hiking up your skirt. After classes, you’d disappear behind the old library, his tie pulled loose, your voice muffled by his palm as you whimpered his name.

And even during class, God, you were reckless. His knee pressed between your legs beneath the shared desk, your breath coming fast as you tried to focus on the board. His quiet, wicked chuckle in your ear when you squirmed, the ghost of his fingers brushing against your thigh.

You were insatiable. Addicted.

But nothing compared to now. The empty classroom you’d slipped into was bathed in the golden light of the afternoon. The door was barely shut before Jungwon’s lips crashed against yours, a feral hunger in the way his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“Keep quiet for me,” he whispered against your lips, the dark, teasing lilt in his voice making your knees weak.

He pushed you back against the teacher’s desk, his body pressing into yours, one thigh wedged between your legs. Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan as his mouth traveled down your neck, leaving burning kisses.

But then—

The door swung open.

“Yeah hold on, I think I left my—”

Your heart nearly stopped, and you froze, wide eyes locking with Jungwon’s. But instead of pulling away, his smirk only deepened.

“Stay still,” he breathed against your ear, his voice a low, wicked whisper. His hand slipped beneath your skirt, fingers grazing your thigh, his touch torturously slow, easing up toward your heat.

Your breathing hitched, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as you tried to maintain your composure, biting down hard on your lip to keep silent.

“…Fuck.. I swore it was here.” The voice was closer now, footsteps approaching the front of the classroom.

Jungwon’s fingers pressed further over your clothed clit, the thin fabric of your panties barely doing a thing to the featherlight touch that had your thighs trembling, your entire body screaming at you to move, to moan, to cling to him, but you couldn’t. Not without being caught.

You breath came faster, your chest heaving, and Jungwon’s mouth found your neck again, his tongue tracing slow, heated circles just below your ear.

“You’re shaking,” he teased, his words a mere breath against your skin. “Does it turn you on, Y/N? The thought of getting caught, hm?”

The person at the front of the classroom sighed. “Guess it’s not here.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, tears prickling as the tension twisted inside. You could feel Jungwon’s quiet, muffled laughter against your skin, his fingers now tracing agonizing circles against your inner thigh, just barely avoiding where she needed him most.

The door finally creaked shut, the footsteps fading down the hall.

But Jungwon didn’t stop.

“You did so well,” he murmured, finally letting his hand slide higher, his lips capturing yours again as you gasped, half in relief, half in desperate, pent-up need. “But we’re not done yet.”

—

And here you both were again, in your shared dorm room. The tension from your bickering earlier in class still lingered in the air, but it had twisted into something else entirely. Jungwon leaned back in his desk chair, his head tipped against the backrest, sweat glistening at his hairline. His fingers twisted in your hair, holding it back, keeping it out of your face as you knelt between his thighs.

His hips bucked, unsteady, his cock pushing deeper into the wet heat of your mouth. Your jaw ached, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but the desperate, breathless sounds he made only spurred you on. His voice was rough, a low, shuddering groan escaping him.

“Fuck, gonna cum down your pretty throat, sunshine.” His words were broken, almost pleading, but there was a smug edge to them, his gaze fixed on the sight of your cheeks hollowing around him. Your spit slicked his length, pooling at his base. “Would you like that? Me forcing my seed down your throat?”

You couldn’t answer, not with your mouth full, but you hummed, the sound vibrating around him. His grip tightened, a low, trembling curse falling from his lips.

“I’m cumming—fuck, I’m cumming—” His hips jerked, pushing forward until his pelvis met your lips, his release flooding your mouth, hot and thick. He held you there, his breathing ragged, thrusting lazily as he rode out his high.

You tapped his thigh quickly, a silent plea, and immediately his hold loosened. You pulled back, gasping for air, a string of spit and his release connecting your lips to his cock. Coughs racked your chest as you tried to catch your breath, but he was already leaning forward, his touch gentler now, fingers brushing against your cheek, wiping away your tears.

“Get up,” Jungwon murmured, his voice softer now, but still commanding. He didn’t wait for you to comply. His hands slid under your arms, pulling you to your feet with a surprising strength. The room spun for a second, but then you were in his arms, your knees unsteady as he walked you backward.

The backs of your thighs met the edge of his bed. He guided you down, his mouth finding yours, the kiss messy and heated, a mix of need and something more possessive. His hands wandered, pushing the fabric of your panties down, his weight settling over you as he climbed on top, his lips never leaving yours.

“Still so fucking needy,” he whispered, his teeth grazing your lower lip, his voice dripping with a teasing warmth, but his touch was anything but. It was greedy, desperate, his fingers tracing your thighs, his knee pressing between your legs.

“You didn’t get enough, did you?”

His knee pressed between your thighs, spreading them apart, and you couldn’t stop the needy whimper that slipped from your lips. Jungwon chuckled, the sound low and teasing, but his voice was rougher now, hunger darkening his gaze.

“Look at you, sunshine,” he whispered against your mouth, his fingers trailing downward, tracing the soft skin of your inner thigh. “So eager. Did I fuck your pretty mouth too well? Got you all worked up?”

You shivered beneath him, your hands clutching at the front of his shirt, desperate for something to ground you. He leaned in, his lips trailing along your jaw, down the curve of your neck, each kiss sending heat rushing through you. His teeth grazed your pulse, a soft, teasing nip that had you gasping.

“Jungwon,” you breathed, barely recognizing your own voice, so needy and breathless.

“I know, sunshine.” His touch slid higher, fingertips brushing against your dripping folds, and he smirked against your skin. “Already soaked. You liked it that much?”

Your face burned, but shame was the last thing on your mind. You rolled your hips, pressing into his touch, chasing the friction. He chuckled again, but this time there was a hint of something darker, something possessive.

“Don’t get shy now,” he murmured, his lips finding yours again, his kiss slow and heated. His fingertips dipped inside your entrance and a sharp gasp tore from your throat. But he only pulled them back out, continuing circling. “I want to hear you, sunshine. Want to feel you come undone for me.”

His fingers teased you, slow and deliberate, tracing delicate circles that left you trembling beneath him. His other hand found yours, guiding it up above your head, his fingers lacing with yours, pinning you down. His grip was firm, a silent reminder of just how much control he had, but his touch was anything but cruel. It was maddening, achingly slow, every movement coaxing desperate, breathy whimpers from you.

“Please,” you whispered, barely able to think, your body arching beneath him.

“Please what?” He dragged his fingers through your slickness, teasing your entrance, but never giving you what you needed. “Use your words, sunshine.”

“Please—need you. Need you so bad.”

He smiled against your mouth, a satisfied hum vibrating against your lips. “There we go.”

In one smooth movement, he slipped two fingers inside you, his thumb circling your clit, and you cried out, your body arching beneath him. He moved with a slow, steady rhythm, curling his fingers just right, each thrust coaxing sweet, desperate sounds from you.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice a soothing, wicked whisper against your ear. “Such a good girl. Taking me so well.”

Your breathing quickened, every nerve in your body alight with pleasure, the heat building with every movement of his fingers, every gentle press of his thumb. His lips were at your ear, his voice a dark, soothing melody.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he whispered, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “All mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your fingers tightening in his shirt, clinging to him.

“Good.” His lips trailed down your neck again, sucking a dark mark into your skin, a brand of his own. “Then come for me. Let me feel it.”

His words sent you over the edge. Pleasure crashed through you, your body tensing beneath him, your cries muffled against his shoulder as you shuddered in his hold. He didn’t let up, coaxing you through every wave of your release, his touch gentle, his voice a soothing murmur.

When your breathing finally began to slow, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his fingers slipping free of your soaked folds. He brought them to his lips, his dark eyes locked on yours as he licked them clean, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Sweet as ever, sunshine.”

Jungwon’s tongue swept over his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, and the hunger in his gaze only seemed to deepen. He leaned back slightly, hands sliding to your thighs, his touch firm but teasing. His lips found yours again, the kiss rough and greedy, his teeth grazing your lower lip.

“You’re so desperate for me, sunshine,” he whispered, the words dripping with smug satisfaction. “All that attitude in class, but look at you now. Barely keeping it together.”

You whimpered against his mouth desperatly. He laughed softly, the sound warm against your lips, but there was a rough edge to it now, his self-control starting to fray.

“Impatient too,” he murmured.

He pulled back just enough to unbutton his shirt, shrugging it off, the toned lines of his chest and shoulders revealed beneath the soft light of the room. Your gaze wandered over him, and he smirked, catching you staring.

“Like what you see?”

You didn’t have the breath to answer, especially when he leaned down again, his lips trailing along your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses that sent shivers racing down your spine. His hands slipped beneath your blouse, pushing it up, and he wasted no time, his mouth finding the sensitive skin just above your chest, nipping, sucking, marking you.

His fingers tugged the fabric higher, his touch rough but never careless, and soon your blouse joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor. His gaze swept over you, hungry, possessive, his tongue brushing his lips.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed, his voice lower now, thick with want. His hand slid down between your thighs again, his fingers tracing over your soaked folds, and he chuckled. “Still so wet for me. Pathetic, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, hips arching into his touch, and his teasing smile faded just slightly, his pupils dark and blown wide with desire.

But when you tried to turn your head, the lingering bite of your pride making you look away, his grip tightened, forcing your gaze back to his.

“You keep trying to beat me,” he murmured, his voice a dangerous, silken whisper. “But you can’t even stop thinking about me.”

His words cut through the haze of your need, shame and longing twisting together in your chest, but your body betrayed you. His fingers pressed harder against your soaked core, and you trembled, a desperate whimper escaping your lips.

“Admit it, sunshine,” he taunted, leaning in, his lips ghosting over yours. “All that defiance—just a cover. All you really want is for me to ruin you.”

You shook your head, a shaky gasp slipping free, but it was pointless, the ache between your legs giving you away. He was already hard again, the sight of your flushed skin and desperate little whimpers clearly driving him mad.

He settled between your legs, his tip brushing against your entrance, and you shuddered, a desperate plea escaping your lips.

“Please, Jungwon.”

“Please what?” He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear, his voice a low, teasing whisper. “Want me to fuck you, sunshine? Want me to ruin you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely more than a gasp. “Need you.”

His control snapped. With one smooth, forceful thrust, he buried himself inside you, a rough groan tearing from his throat. The stretch was intense, your body adjusting around him, and his hands found your wrists, pinning them above your head against the mattress.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his forehead pressing against yours, his voice shaking just slightly. “So tight, so fucking perfect.”

His hips pulled back, only to snap forward again, a harsh rhythm that had you gasping beneath him. He set a brutal pace, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure racing through you, your cries muffled against his mouth as he claimed your lips again. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, his breath hot against your cheek, but his composure was crumbling, his thrusts growing faster, more desperate.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice rough and breathless. “Taking me so well. Such a good girl, aren’t you?”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, and the sound he made was almost a growl, his grip on your wrists tightening. His name fell from your lips in broken, pleading gasps, and he shuddered, his rhythm faltering for a second.

“Gonna make you cum again, sunshine,” he promised, his thumb finding your swollen clit, rubbing fast, rough circles. “Wanna feel you squeeze me. Want you to scream my name.”

The pleasure built like a fire, your body arching beneath him, your cries growing louder, desperate. His thrusts grew erratic, his breathing harsh against your ear.

“Cum for me,” he growled. “Now.”

His words sent you over the edge, your body tensing beneath him, a sharp cry ripping from your throat. Your walls clenched around him, and he swore, his hips slamming into you, losing his rhythm as he chased his own release.

“Fuck, fuck—” His voice broke, his hands gripping your wrists almost painfully, his release spilling inside you, hot and thick. He rode out his high, his movements slowing, his breath ragged against your skin.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your shared breathing, the heat of his body pressing against yours. Then, slowly, he let your wrists go, his touch gentler now. He leaned back slightly, his gaze meeting yours, the teasing smugness gone, replaced by something softer, almost dazed…

#yang jungwon smut #enemies to lovers #boarding school au #academic rivals #mdni #enhypen smut #enha hard hours #enha hard thoughts

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averys-nightmare-zone · 8 months ago

Text

since landing is closing down soon, i decided to take a quick break from SUPERSTRUCTURE (although i will be back don't you worry two fans) and made some fashion moodboards for the 14 fears from the magnus archives to accompany this post there will be some notes and insight on each collage under the cut.

the buried: the buried was really underutilized in the podcast imo. some of my favorite episodes revolved around the buried like lost john's cave and we all ignore the pit. i really hope this did it justice since jonny sims did not.

the corruption: oh my god this one was so hard to make. my google search history is full of terms like "bug infested dress", "moldy clothing" and "yucky fashion" the corruption girlies really seemed to like my last post so i felt obligated to get it right. i think i did okay.

the dark: making a black on black collage look decent is really hard 😭 I was originally going to go victorian for this one but ended up doing nu goth instead since I thought victorian fit a lot better with the end.

the desolation: this is one of my favorites. there's somthing so satisfying about combining ashy greys and black with orange it just tickles my brain. other than that, i don't really have any notes

the end: as mentioned earlier, i went with victorian mourning wear for the end. i mean queen victoria herself was in mourning and only wore black for forty years. that era is so synonymous with death it only felt fair to work its customs and fashion into my end board.

the eye: eye avatars are legally required to wear academic fashion. it just comes with the job description. i don't make the rules. have fun being jonathan sims

the flesh: this one really took me down a rabbit hole. first:, i could only find those anti-vegan shirts that your unemployed uncle wears to the family barbecue and then i came across this fashion designer and spent like an hour on her shop trying to figure out how she got her clothes to look like that. after that it took me another two hours to find all of the accessories. pinterest has been both my best friend and worst enemy over the course of this project.

the hunt: i am so sorry the supernatural gas leakage returned to my home when i made this and I age regressed into being 15 again. when i was making this i pictured it more as the trevor and julia flavor of the hunt instead of say, daisy. god breast america.

the lonely: this one was pretty easy to make once i got a handle on the color scheme. the aesthetic of the lonely has always striken me as a romanticization of the melancholy. think wanderer above the sea of fog. So i gave this one all the things i would romantasize about my life at my loneliest, which is why there's a teacup and a heart locket. the book was also a part of that, but it also doubles as a recreation of a leitner by theponderingalpaca on reddit.

the slaughter: yeah yeah i know the slaughter is supposed to be about war as well as murder, but forgive me for not making a fashion collage about military uniforms. that's really boring. i had just watched woodstock '99 before i made this though and decided to go more for that angry punk/metalhead fashion that korn was wearing in that concert. them and limp biskit are the closest we'll ever get to irl grifters bone.

the spiral: i made this moodboard twice. i know its crazy that the fear meant to represent insanity is hard to pin down, but i think i did it better the second time around. the first one read too much as regular kidcore/decora for my taste.

the stranger: i had to do this one last. i could not for the life of me figure out how to make a circus/uncanny fashion board without just doing clown fashion. i'm still not entirely sure how i feel about how it turned out, but at least the masks are cool.

the vast: vast avatars rise up!! this is a mike crew fan blog and i only wanted to base the fashion around him. he's in the top three list of guys i'm autistic about with elliott stardew valley and daniel powell from archive 81.

the web: not much to say here except if you are a web avatar you have to wear a cunty dress. it is simply non negotiable

thank you to @artmadval for giving me the idea to do this with your amazing fashion archives art, along with everyone else who went through all my yapping to get here. love yall!

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isa-beenme · 2 years ago

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Hello!! Do you think you could right a sort of enemies to lovers relationship with Azriel? Maybe where he and the reader get into a heated argument, and the bond snaps when the tension hits its peak? If this doesn’t inspire you, please don’t feel as though you have to accept my request! This is my first attempt at making a request, so I apologize if I did it incorrectly. Also, I wanted to note that your writing style is one of my favorites, and I hope you are proud of your work! That’s all, thank you for your time!!

THE SOOOOOOOOOONG

Listen to it please thank you

Loved your request, darling, it's actually much better when you send the whole story, I usually struggle when I try to think of a whole story alone (I swear I'm creative but it's hard to get things in your head out of nothing)

I try to be proud of my work as much as I can, thank you so much 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

THIS WORK was sooooooo fun to do, I swear at some moment while I was writing this I laughed at my own story, super cool

I thought: "I'm gonna make this super serious" amd ended up with this, which is much better

This Is Love

Your family always meant everything to you. Being Rhysand's cousin meant you would be inserted in everything he did. Being his second in command meant you would be involved in every plan. And being all of that meant you would be part of his Inner Circle, which automatically involved you in everything they did together. From training, to family dinner and trips around the Courts for the meetings, you did all together. And you loved it. Again, your family meant everything to you, and spending time with them was on your top list of favorite things to do. I mean, when a certain Shadowsinger wasn't completely involved.

Working with Azriel was always fine, perfectly fine, actually. Rhysand often paired you up together to work because everything fell into place with the two of you. Your mind always seemed to think like one. But that teamwork only made itself present when the topic was your position towards the court and your job. Outside that, you both were a mess. Training with him was a dread, from him pinpointing each - non-existent - mistake, to you lashing yourself on him each time he made you angry, it's been more than 250 years of both of you trying to win one another in the training. It never happened.

Family dinner was also horrible since both of you had very different visions in every single topic someone started, not just that, somehow, no matter how many times you and Azriel changed seats with someone, it doesn't take a week until you find yourselves seated next to each other again. On top of that, you and he possess the ability to winnow, yet, Rhysand always thought it was necessary for you to winnow together. No matter how many times you said it wasn't necessary, Rhys only ignored you, the necessity of traveling with him making you hate your life just a little bit more.

But if spending time with your family was on your top favorite things to do, game night with Azriel was on your top things to make yourself miserable. It was a common scene for the rest of the Inner Circle to see you and him screaming at each other at some point. Sometimes one of you thought the other was cheating. Sometimes you started saying the other was winning too many times and should be taken out of the game. Sometimes it was the complete opposite, "if you lose so much, maybe you should step back and stop occupying space". Tonight it wasn't different, your favorite fight was ready to start as Azriel explained the rules to the new game.

Besides the usual crackling tension between you and Azriel, this night seemed to be at its worst peak. For weeks now, both of you seemed to be on the edge with one another, even in work, your usual camaraderie was replaced with sharp remarks and piercing glares. Everyone around the table exchanged puzzled looks, uncertain of what exactly had caused this escalating feud.

Azriel couldn't understand why every word from you grated on his nerves, nor could you fathom why Azriel's mere presence felt suffocating. The build-up of unresolved emotions and unspoken desires had been simmering for days, and now, it was about to reach its boiling point.

The Night Court's game night had started off innocently enough with your usual truth or drink game, something to light up tension (or build it, in your and Azriel's case), but as the evening wore on, the tension between you and Azriel became palpable as the Shadowsinger tried to introduce a new idea to the table. It began with a harmless disagreement over the rules of a card game, but it quickly escalated into a heated argument once the match started.

Azriel's patience was wearing thin as you challenged every decision he made during the game, the cards he dropped and the ones he chose, everything seemed horrible in your eyes. The other way around too, your matches weren't valid, you couldn't pick certain cards and no, it wasn't your turn yet. His usually calm demeanor was now strained, and he couldn't help but feel irritated by your persistent need to question him.

-I don't understand why you always have to question everything I do - Azriel snapped at some point, his shadows flickering around him as a testament to his growing frustration.

-Maybe if you didn't act like you knew everything, I wouldn't have to. "Boo, I'm Azriel and I don't let people play the game because I invented it and none of you understand how to play it" - You quickly shot back, their voice laced with sarcasm

The room fell silent, and your friends exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the mounting tension between the two of you. But there was no going back now; the floodgates had opened, and all the pent-up emotions were rushing to the surface.

-I don't act like I know everything, and I don't talk like that - Azriel retorted, his voice tight with anger - I just wish you'd stop acting like you have all the answers! Sometimes it is okay to listen to help because, guess what? I indeed invented the game and there's no way of you learning how to play it, if you don't listen to the rules!

-Well, forgive me for not blindly following you like everyone else. I'm not afraid to question things when they don't make sense! - Your eyes narrowed, jaw clenching as you shot back.

-And I'm not afraid to take action instead of endlessly debating every damn decision! - Azriel's temper flared, his wings twitching in agitation.

-I think what you're really good at is fucking my life! - Your family gasped at your words, shocked by the intensity.

-It's just a payback for every headache you give me every time you breathe near me - They quickly turned their heads to Azriel, equally shocked by his response.

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, it seemed as if you were both about to explode. Your family exchanged worried glances, unsure of how to intervene in the escalating argument. But just as the situation reached its breaking point, a strange shift occurred. As Azriel locked eyes with you, an unexpected intensity replaced your anger. It was as if the universe itself had decided to step in, forcing you to confront the undeniable truth.

The room seemed to blur around you as you stood there, chests heaving from the heated exchange. The fight had reached its peak, and in that very moment, the mating bond snapped into place. The sudden connection was overwhelming, a rush of emotions and sensations that neither of you could comprehend. Your anger dissolved into confusion and shock as you felt an unexplainable pull towards each other.

Azriel's wings, once tense and defensive, now softened, as if beckoning every step you unknowingly took closer. Your guard came down as well, replaced by a mix of vulnerability and curiosity.

Your friends watched in astonishment as two adversaries stood there, seemingly lost in a world of their own. The room is filled with a charged silence, the kind that accompanies a revelation that changes everything. Even if none of them knew exactly what revelation was going on at that moment.

But as the realization set in, Rhysand and Feyre exchanged knowing smiles. It was no secret for them that you and Azriel had an underlying connection, a bond waiting to be acknowledged. They had witnessed the chemistry and unspoken feelings simmering between the two of you, and now, it seemed the universe had decided to intervene.

Your eyes met Azriel's once again, and this time, there was no irritation or hostility. Instead, there was an undeniable spark of understanding and attraction, a recognition of the emotions that you had been hiding from each other. Neither of you spoke a word, yet you communicated on a deeper level, the mating bond solidifying your connection at each passing second. It was as if all the walls you had built around your heart came crashing down, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to him.

As the reality of the mating bond settled in, your heart raced with confusion and fear. You couldn't understand why fate would choose someone you had built such animosity towards to be your mate. Feeling overwhelmed and unable to face the truth, you turned around and ran, needing time and space to process the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

Azriel, though taken aback and hurt by the sudden rejection, couldn't ignore the pull of the bond drawing him to you. With determination, he chased after your steps, his heart heavy with worry and longing. He caught up to you as you were getting closer to your room. Gently reaching out to touch your shoulder, you recoiled as if his touch burned.

-Please, let's talk - Azriel pleaded, his voice tinged with sadness - I never wanted to hurt you. The fights... They were a defense mechanism, a way to hide my own feelings and protect myself from the pain of loving someone who seemed to hate me. You started this, I just… Thought I should defend myself.

-But why you? Why did it have to be you? - You whispered, voice breaking with emotion. Azriel's eyes softened, and he took a step closer, his hand hovering near your face, yearning for the connection you both feared and desired.

-I wish I had an answer for that. All I know is that the bond doesn't choose who we love, it just binds us to our other half. And for some inexplicable reason, it chose us - He could see the pain in your eyes and knew that he needed to be honest, to show vulnerability despite his fears of rejection - The truth is, the more you fought me, the more I fell for you. Your fire, your strength, everything about you drew me in. But I was terrified of what it meant, so I pushed you away.

-I didn't know what to do with my feelings either - You admitted, opening a place in your heart that you swear to never look at again - I tried to convince myself that I hated you, but it only made things worse. Every fight, every argument, it was just a way to hide how much I… I wanted to be by your side. Everything was simple with them but you? You made me feel things and I didn't want it - Azriel's heart ached at your words, and he took a step closer, finally touching your cheek gently.

-We can figure this out together. I don't want to fight anymore. I want to be here for you, to understand you, and for you to understand me - Tears finally spilled from your eyes, as you looked into Azriel's soulful gaze, feeling the sincerity of his words.

-It won't be easy, but maybe we can try - You gave in, hugging him tightly, filling the void in your soul that you ignored for so long.

You and Azriel knew that you had a journey ahead, to step down from the fights and finally accept the truth that maybe, just maybe, you both were meant to be. Even in disagreement you found a way to each other. Although you would definitely keep your provocations going and Azriel would stay at your feet for anything you did, that was your way of loving and for the first time you were fine knowing what tomorrow would bring.

------------------------------

[Post-Credit Scene]

The Inner Circle sat around the table, looking perplexed and bewildered after the explosive game night that had just taken place. None of them could quite wrap their heads around what had unfolded. Nestha glanced at Cassjan, who raised an eyebrow, silently communicating his own confusion. Feyre and Rhysand seemed to be the only ones who understood the situation, but none of them made a move to say something as they kept talking to each other in their minds.

-So, did anyone understand what just happened? I mean, they are usually weird around each other but… This weird? It's worrying - The general scratched his head and finally gathered the courage to say something.

-Beats me. The brute is right. But I have to admit, seeing them argue like that is always quite entertaining. It's the only reason I've been coming for the past centuries, honestly - Amren replied with a snarl, eyes rolling as she threw her cards on the table.

-Oh, for sure! It was like watching a drama unfold right in front of us every week. But I can't believe they just bolted like that. Do you think they're okay? - Mor inquired, a mix of amusement and worry kicking in.

-If I had to bet I would say they are killing each other - Cassian said, playing with the deck of cards.

-Or fucking - Nestha chimed in with a laugh - I mean, when I didn't accept the mating bond with Cassian I acted exactly like them. If you don't understand the feeling you might as well hurt the person you hold those feelings for - Everyone seemed to agree as the bets started to grow around the table.

-Knowing those two, they probably needed some time alone to sort things out. Maybe it's an understanding finally kicking in - Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with mischief - The group exchanged curious glances, trying to understand their High Lord.

-Well, whatever it is, we can't say it was unimportant. That was probably the most explosive family game night we've ever had - Feyre couldn't help but add with a grin.

Just then, the door to the game room creaked open, and you walked in with Azriel by your side, hand in hand, with smiles on your faces. The Inner Circle's jaws dropped in disbelief as they took in the sight in front of them.

-What the...? How did you...? What? - Cassian sputtered, at a loss for words.

-You know, it's funny how things work out sometimes - Azriel looked around at their stunned faces and chuckled.

-Yeah, we had a little heart-to-heart and sorted some things out. Turns out, we had a lot of misunderstandings to clear up - You and Azriel smiled at each other, making the whole Inner Circle shocked.

-So, you two aren't going to be at each other's throats anymore? - Amren raised an eyebrow, a sly grin forming.

-Oh, we definitely will - You said when you looked back at them, your head finding its way to Azriel's shoulder.

-Just not today - He said and kissed you head, hearing some gasps from the table.

-Are we witnessing a truce? - Mor whispered to the General, who just shuddered, as confused as her.

-Let's just say we have a newfound understanding of each other - Azriel replied, you and him sharing a knowing look.

-Well, that's a relief! We were starting to wonder if you two were going to start a war right here in the Night Court - Feyre laughed, reaching out for her mate's hand.

-Glad to see you've made up. Just... maybe tone it down during future game nights? - Rhysand smiled after clearly speaking mind to mind with the Shadowsinger.

-Okay, so… the rules of the game? - Nestha questioned, her cards still secured in her hands.

-It doesn't matter right now, you can choose it - Az said, making everyone turn their eyes to him. Shock covered every face in the room. Never, in their lives, do they think Azriel would give up on something. They turned their eyes to you, expecting some remark.

-Yeah, you guys can keep going - A wave of gasps and terrorized looks were exchanged between your family - I think Az might be hungry, aren't you?

-I might be. Will you make me something? - He asked, getting so close to you that your noses almost touched.

-It will be my pleasure - You said before dragging him towards the kitchen, not even noticing the mouths of the Inner Circle opened.

-Uh uh, no. I prefer the war. Tell them to come back and fight again, I don't like the way things worked - Mor leaned back in her chair, disbelief covering her posture.

-You know what? I think this interaction was more scary than the Cauldron - Amren said, finally giving up her cards as she threw them on the table.

-Come on, it can't be that bad, right? - All of the older members looked at Nestha with scared faces, even Rhysand, who knew exactly what happened between the two of you - Okay, apparently it is.

-What do we do now? - Feyre finally asked after silence filled the room.

-We hope that this Court doesn't crumble down - That was all that Rhysand said as he began separating the cards again, a whole new game starting that night.

#spotify #acotar #azriel × reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel/reader #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader

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aphroditaeon · 8 days ago

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The Marley Levi thing gave me another idea. Traitor Levi au where he escaped back to Marley but everyone thought he died in battle. Reader was always at odds with Levi because he gave her a weird feeling and always bullied her but even she was sad. He was a good leader, and a strong and capable soldier. Timeskip a few years and the reader is captured by Marley. She regains consciousness in her cell and BAM her "enemy" Levi is standing there, except this time he's really her enemy as she sees him in Marleyan officer's uniform. She was supposed to be executed but she learnt that Levi had taken her as his concubine and then some fucked up smut ensues. Really gives lots of opportunities for dark tropes and kinks.

OH MY GOD you said “took her as concubine” and i immediately died 😵‍💫 literally one of my favorites. this is such an interesting plot too, so many possibilities. He could be particularly harsh on reader bc he couldn’t deal with his intense attraction towards his enemy, or maybe bc she killed one of his own in a former war, or someone closely associated with her did? 🤔 (I actually have a wip of marleyan!reader being a POW and Levi is not taking her crimes lightly 😣 but then I published navarasa, sonne so it’s pushed to the side for now)

There’s soooooo much I would wanna see, too many routes to take. After gaining the “rights” to her, he could fuck her as if she’s nothing more than an object, not even letting her cum…or mocking her for cumming so easily for him. Gets frustrated that he can’t get her out of his system, constantly taking it out on her instead of facing his feelings. Or a cold dismissal where he represses his desires completely, leaving reader puzzled as to why he even saved her? It would also be interesting to see if he was unstable in the second, at first appearing upright and moral, then losing control in the worst ways, maybe getting jealous of others’ attention, then punishing her for it. This version would blueball himself sooooooo much and would end up physically lashing out really reaaaalllyyy badly 😫😵‍💫 And another version for angst - one where he isn’t as angry, doesn’t touch her at all while reader wonders if he doesn’t like her enough to even fuck her when she’s so obviously willing (he either is oblivious or feels too ashamed of his feelings)…..especially yummy if some breeding program is forced on Captain Ackerman, I mean, he can’t exactly refuse to continue his lineage now that he specifically requested to take a dangerous prisoner of war who was scheduled for execution as a concubine, can he?

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #💎#aphroditaeon.answers #aphroditaeon.txt #levi ackerman x you #levi x you #Levi x oc #Levi Ackerman x oc

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lyricthecat-12 · 3 months ago

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Let's talk about Fiona Fox:

Fiona Fox is one of Archie's most popular characters, but not for the best of reasons. Personally speaking, she wasn't a character that caught my attention until, curiously, one of her most controversial moments took place. But let's take it one step at a time:

Officially introduced in KTE #26, after we were previously introduced to a robotic version of her as a child in STH #28, she started out as a sort of attempt at a new enemy for Mighty and Sonic, which stood out because unlike other villains, she had personal and even understandable reasons for why she resented them and how she ended up as a criminal bounty hunter, alongside Nic.

But from here on, she had a very fickle direction since. From one second to the next, that approach was forgotten, Nic would reappear but without her for some reason and the next time Fiona would have a role in a story, not counting her cameo in #125, would be during the Home Arc. Where they came out of nowhere with the fact that during the year that Sonic was away, he joined the Freedom Fighters. All this without absolutely explaining either at that time or later (probably due to the sudden departure of Karl Bollers, who was the one who introduced this change to begin with).

After this, Fiona wouldn't really have any important participation after joining the group, beyond being present in some missions, until we reach the infamous number 155# where, just like that, she began a relationship with Sonic.

Ok look, I know there are people who like this couple for various reasons and I understand and respect them, but personally I find this not only one of the worst twists in the comic, but also the worst relationship that Sonic has had canonically for a very simple reason: Their union makes any sense at all. It was something abrupt, forced and disjointed, whose existence didn't contribute anything positive to the characters or the story.

I know that Karl had the idea that Fiona will eventually develop feelings for him, and perhaps it would have achieved a better result but as I said before, he left abruptly, which led to his originally planned direction for this stage being distorted and altered, which resulted in, among other things, the following;

Fiona appeared out of nowhere, after making her last appearance 68 issues ago, as an ally. Sonic for some reason is not surprised that the girl he left behind years ago and thought lost is with them and talks to her as if it had always been that way. Then in the next 21 issues, they only had 3 measly interactions of which only one of them counts as it means (although it also seems incoherent with the story they showed us before)

And the following issue, Sonic and her are already a couple, giving us in the process one of the most infamous and hated moments of Archie Sonic for more than justifiable reasons, since it was something sudden, out of place and an absurd attempt at unnecessary drama.

The worst thing is that after this they really wouldn't do anything with their relationship, Fiona would still not be a relevant character and the only notable interaction they had was when Sonic supported her when she was accused by sally in the STH 160#, otherwise they didn't have any chemistry. However, also during this time they tried to take up some of her background, bringing back her past as a bandit and little by little setting out the turn that would be given to her in 172#.

I know that many also hate this moment and the reconversion of Fiona into a villain, don't even think that I love how it developed but here is the issue that I mentioned. It was from here that I started to like her and she ended up becoming one of my favorite villains. I have seen several opinions about this moment which are summarized in that this decision supposed an abrupt setback for Fiona's character without reason, but reality changes a bit if we take into account an detail that now here, takes on another meaning.

Fiona wans't really part of the Team.

Aside from the fact that it was never explained to us how she joined in the first place, in all the time she was with them she didn't show any real connection to any of them, in fact it could even be said that all them showed a particularly oblivious side with Fiona.

She was a victim of circumstances. As a child, she was enslaved and when it finally seemed like she would be free, she was left behind to rot in a cell. Of course, we know that neither Sonic nor Mighty did it on purpose but this is from their perspective. For her, those who were going to be her saviors left her behind and no matter how long it took, no one came to look for her so she was forced to save herself, only for her to realize once free that she is alone and without a place to go, until she meets Nic, and given the circumstances she ends up getting involved in a long career as a bounty hunter, something that is logically shocking and due to the context it is easy to understand that beyond her association with Nic, she never had any kind of support or guidance that would help her improve.

And when it seems that she changed and managed to overcome the resentment accumulated over the years, no one seems to recognize it. It is implied that in order to be accepted she had to hide her history since when she gave hints, Sally automatically accuses her even though she had just helped them get rid of Bean and Bark.

Although she tried to fit in with the group, her brief appearances were mostly insignificant, and she even ended up hurting herself because of it. She never formed a meaningful bond with anyone and as time goes on, more people show up acting like she don't belong there.

Her entire relationship with Sonic was just a distraction from the facts and not only on her side, but also on the part of Sonic himself who later revealed that he really wasn't interested in her, that they only dated because he was still affected by his breakup with Sally. Something that Fiona could have perfectly realized or suspected, since she isn't as naive as some make her out to be, one of her main skills was manipulation and deception something that requires knowing how to read people well, and during the time she was with Sonic beyond loving glances, the most he did for her was defend her when Sally accused her of his past. How did Fiona have to feel, who relatively recently had wanted to leave behind the image she had for years of Sonic as someone reckless and selfish, about it?

On a narrative level, Fiona can be seen as the result of the FF's poor handling of a trauma victim: She was alone almost all her life, surrounded by bad influences and dangers that led her to take questionable paths to survive, she didn't have a group of friends who supported her in difficult times, who motivated her to do his best or see the best side of things, even the closest thing to a meaningful relationship she had, which it would Nic, it was only for long-term convenience as far as we know. And although she genuinely tried to change, she found that her past spoke louder than her present and that it haunted her no matter her actions, with a team of friends that she couldn't be a part of not matter if she tried and in the end, she never got a reason that convinced her that that was her place.

Scourge was the trigger for this moment, but not the cause, that was brewing before, what he did was motivate her not to repress that side, unlike the rest who only had and accepted a superficial vision of her, he saw her as a whole and showed that he liked it. Which resulted in the beginning of their relationship but also in Fiona ending up stuck in her own denial, believing that she really couldn't trust anyone and that this was her only path to follow.

Obviously, I won't say that everything is perfect in this story because it's clear that it isn't. This wasn't something planned from the beginning but rather circumstances led to the character's course changing drastically due to the constant change of writer. But at least it served to give Fiona a distinctive purpose as a character, because up to this point she didn't have a defined role other than being another heroic character in an extensive and already defined cast of heroes,that would only stand out for being another potential love interest for Sonic that also wouldn't amount to anything,

And despite how distorted her view of Sonic was, she got one thing right: Sonic can sometimes be selfish, of course he never seeks to harm anyone but his impulsiveness has sometimes cost him a lot.

Of course I'm NOT trying to say that her actions were justified, understand ≠ justify. At the end of the day she made her decisions and even if Scourge is out of the equation, the root of the problem would still be there and here's the thing; Fiona could have left Sonic, or even left the team but she didn't, she chose to turn her pain and discontent into a self-destructive revenge against others. No one ever encouraged her to be good and no one helped her properly overcome her bad experiences, so what prevented her from giving in to her worst habits?

Speaking a bit more about her relationship with Scourge, I remember seeing someone mention a while back that there were people comparing Scourgiona to Sonally, which makes sense if you want to see the former as a twisted/opposite version of the latter (otherwise, NOTHING to do with it)

(And although it should be mentioned that some time ago, Ian Flynn confirmed that the reason he decided to pair them was to create in that time a twisted parallel with the brotherhood relationship between Sonic and Tails)

Scourge was the one who motivated Fiona to look out for what she wanted instead of sticking to a self-imposed mold but even if he likes her to the point of being the first girl he's 100% loyal to, Scourge is still pure instability.

Fiona is the brains of the two and the most cautious but even if she's proven her loyalty to Scourge, deep down she'll always have her interests in mind over the well-being of others, something hinted at in her last appearance and confirmed later.

Because after all, they are both broken people, both are lonely and resentful children who only care about their own well-being, being far from the carefully constructed relationship of love and respect of Sonic and Sally. As someone once told me a long time ago; They are made for each other, a couple of two toxics who complement each other to harm others and who feel the need to be together because they look more or less the same, but eventually their ideals will clash and they will end up harming each other.

In conclusion; Fiona is a character that has gone through many abrupt changes throughout her history and it wasn't until much later after her debut that she was given a defined position in the cast.

This one wasn't perfect, you can tell from afar that it was a twist that didn't have much time to develop but this is not only the fault of Ian, who was a rookie at the time but also of editor Mike Pellerito, for causing Bollers to leave the staff and then asking Flynn to justify why both characters started coming out of nowhere, as well as Penders for putting them together like that to begin with. But still, what was built around the character seemed much more interesting and memorable to me than what was planned.

Fiona is one of the most accurate representations we've had in the franchise about how trauma can harm a person, who initially acted under the pressure of circumstances but in the end, ended up choosing the wrong path on her own. Because, unlike others like Sally or Ken who also experienced strong trauma, she didn't have the guidance, experiences or support figures necessary to prove to herself that the world was not as cruel as she believed and that she could be different than she has always been.

On one occasion, I saw someone refer to her as a "bad trauma survivor" in reference to how Fiona breaks with several of the stereotypes about trauma that many infamously maintain today, and honestly, I find it more than adequate and fascinating.

But anyway, this is just my opinion, if someone wants to contribute something, they are free to do so if they wish, as long as it is from the respect. ✌️🦊

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sonic comics #archie sonic #sonic archie #sonic archie comics #archie sonic comics #sonic comic #fiona fox #sonic analysis #scourgiona #scourge x fiona #sth

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