#resists just copying all of my notes into this reply

[manchasama]

I may have failed to do this on Sat, but I was determined to do it today! Even if today is rapidly running out lol.

So this AU has gone through a lot of changes in my planning stages, and no longer fully represents the bits and piece posted. That said, the heart of it is the same, and this is kind of a nice refresher on how the idea originally started. :> I am super glad you are enjoying this idea, it was one of the first ones I had for Submas lol

I’m going to touch on answering your comments first (ty ty<3), then probably ramble a whooooole lot and get some of the new ideas into the light of day!

“No one ever figured out that the ‘ghost’ was actually two people”

ngl this is honestly one of my favorite bits about this AU. I love the secret life trope, the hidden identities, and adding a layer of it being two people playing one part makes it further obfuscated → not me living for this bit! That, and the hyper competence it would take to successfully play both parts, not to mention the specific skills and talents each role needs to succeed as much as they do! I get both excited thinking about the possibilities, and overwhelmed because how can I possibly write that? (Slowly, is the answer.)

“The cracks on Chandlure’s glass would never fully go away.”

The scars they all have are a testament of what they’ve been through, but Chandelure’s are particularly poignant. She is a, what’s the word…object pokemon? Made up of glass and metal, or something very like it. Those things don’t get scars. But cracks on glass? She came so very close to breaking herself over this, and the pattern on the glass reflects it. But she lived through it, and is stronger for it. I have a vague idea of trying to find an excuse to kintsugi her, have the cracks be lined with gold. (Arceus’ blessing perhaps? <<)

“It definitely feels like it fits with this au's version of Nimbasa: Cracked, but not broken and capable of healing “

;_; bless u that is so it yesssss the heart of this AU

“I would so so so love to see in what ways the boys help Nimbusa aside from fighting mobsters. 'Cause that can't be the only thing they're doing to help.“

You are so right! I think now is a good time for the revised history of the boys. Warning, it got a bit dark, but this AU is a bit dark. And so. My notes are piecemeal if there are weird jumps that is why.

Father works for the Bad Guys. (Since I never played the game, I was hesitant to use Team Plasma for this. Still not sure if I should, or just use Ocs.)  He is an amazing trainer, and they have a control over who gets pokemon in their territories. Pokemon regulation and all that jazz, can’t let dangerous creatures into the wrong hands. It's part of how they can look legit on the surface.  Those who are part of their org can show the happy families smiling and laughing with pokemon on the surface.  Underneath only those who can pay, who conform to their ideals, are allowed to participate.  And at any time your pokemon can be taken from you if you break the rules.

Not sure every part of what the org does, but one of the big money makers is an underground fighting tournament for pokemon.  It's not league approved, but it rakes in the money.  It's the only way for some people to have any hope of freedom/their own pokemon, so many sign their lives away too it and can't get back out.

The father is The Trainer.  He is the one who has a bond with pokemon, can get them to do things outside of what a normal trainer can manage. No one gets a pokemon he hasn’t trained to the organization’s standards. He hates it.  He hates it so much, the exploitation of himself and the pokemon, but he has no chance of getting out.  Even though he has been granted riches and privileges, they are just part of a gilded cage.  They will never let him go.  He tries to escape all of once, and the injuries he received deter him from trying again.

He finds one good thing in this life.  A lovely woman who is also unable to escape the underground life, but remains sweet and optimistic despite it.  He wants to help her as much as he can, so he proposes to her to get her out of her current situation.  She actually turns him down.  It's a sweet sentiment, but she hardly knows him, and won't bind herself to potentially an even worse situation.  He then makes it his goal to get her to believe his good intentions and all that jazz.  Eventually they do fall in love, and eventually she does say yes.

They have a few good years ofc.  Then she gets pregnant, and it's not an easy time.  She keeps turning down medical assistance, insisting on doing things as naturally as possible.  She does not want to know what sex the child is, nothing. What is really is, is that she is afraid any help accepted will doom them, tie them even closer to the organization. (She is right, but they have other ways.) As always he bows to her whims, but it is stressful.  He can see her decline.

The worst of it comes at the birth ofc.  She dies in childbirth, possibly not even getting the chance to see her boys.  The twins is a surprise.  The hospital is possibly dealing with a large influx of people from some event or disaster, so the amount of time doctors and nurses can spend on the couple was light to begin with.  Once the children are settled with the father, fed on formula and asleep, they are left alone with the covered body of the wife until there is time to process the paperwork.

Enter a high ranking lady in the organization.  She explains she was originally there to be the child's tutor, as they were not going to let such an asset as the Trainer's child go untapped.  Surely the child would have some of the talent of the father, or could be trained as such.  Another bind to keep the father under their thumb, another asset to exploit. Now that the wife is dead, she is stepping in to be the child’s mother instead.

However.  She is actually part of a movement to undermine the organization.  It's a long haul job, she's been undercover for years gaining trust and position.  She seems to be one of the most loyal, and this is her move to ruin one of the strongest parts of the org.  No one has been able to out train the Trainer.  If she can keep the child from becoming a pawn of the organization, then she will consider her job complete.

The father is numb to so much of this.  The only light in his life went out, and he's still expected to keep on going.  He can't find it in himself to love the children, but he wants the world to be good for them where he can't.  So in the hushed hospital room, in the shadow of his dead wife, he listens to the woman's proposal.

They will hide the presence of the second child.  So far as the records will show, the wife only had one.  She will marry the father for the pretense of it, the excuse to the world why she is there to train/teach/raise the child.  To the organization she is the teacher/trainer of the child to take over once the father has outlived his usefulness.  The child would be taught the innerworkings of the organization, and would be beholden to it. The father would teach the child the secrets of being a great trainer.

In reality though, she will teach the child about the dark truth of the org, the secrets that could undermine it, with the hope that when they are grown they can use the information to have it taken down at last. She will teach them how to survive.

And so it goes, and so they grow.  In the privacy of the home, both children are taught equally.  Outside they are traded, so they each get to experience the limited view the org will allow them.  There is no public school, there is no interaction with "normal" life, just views of the tournaments, and lauded tales of how one day they will be the heroes who participate with their trained pokemon, or train pokemon for the trainers like their father.  Glory awaits and all that.

When there is a check-in on the family, an unexpected arrival or even the expected ones, there is a hiding cubby behind the backwall of a closet.  It's small and cramped, especially as they grow.  They are expected to be quiet, make no noise while the visit lasts and their twin is the only one seen.

Perhaps the woman "tests" scent blockers in case of visiting pokemon, and is known for it.  So it's not unusually for the house to be drenched in the stuff.  Perhaps she uses it for her job as a spy ("spy"), needing it so that no pokemon can ever trace her.  So ofc her home is full of it.  That way the second child is never noticed. Ingo and Emmet spend all their time together, so their scents are mixed as well.  It would take a very suspicious pokemon to figure it out, and most aren't encouraged to have such free thought.

Eventually her betrayal is discovered.  Perhaps it comes as a summons when the family is home, and she realizes what it is.  There is no escape.  She and the father exchange a knowing look.  They had contingencies, plans, etc.  She would buy them time to escape, meeting her own demise.

The father had agreed on the surface, but he was Done.  There was no escape, and he knew it.  You had to die to escape.  (But he could get the boys out.  The last bit of his light would escape with them.  They'd hate him for it, but they would be free.  But you had to die to escape.)

He knows they are coming, and they will take Ingo. And while at least Emmet would be safe, he can’t let it happen. Better to lose both than separate them.

So he tells the boys. There’s no where to run, because they will be hunted down. If one were taken, the other could be free (they protest vehemently, as he expected). Or they could do something scary, and dangerous. He has access to many dangerous drugs. Including ones that are designed to quietly get rid of people, making them fall asleep and slowly their body shuts down. There is a cure of course, if it can be administered in time. But there is a small window where they could appear dead. If Ingo will take the poison, Emmet can administer the antidote once it’s safe to do so. And if they are “dead”, then they can escape together. (It’s a plan full of so many holes, but it’s the slim hope. In the mind of a child, the plan will work. Yes it’s scary, but they can do it. Anything to stay together.)

Ingo and Emmet are arguing over who should be the one to “die”, and dad solves it. By stabbing Ingo in the back. (Careful not to hit a vital, but still a very debilitating wound). In their disbelief, Ingo collapsing, Emmet frozen, Dad manhandles Emmet into the hiding space in the closet. Presses the antidote in his hands. Once he’s satisfied Emmet is going to stay quiet, he turns back to Ingo, face blank. (In the remaining moments before the mob arrives, he carefully administers the drug, watching as Ingo’s breathing fades, the blood not flowing as fiercely. There is such a small window for this to work...)

The mobsters come busting in, Big Bad with them. Finds the dad standing over the body of his son, blood pooling everywhere. Big Bad realizes they were too late, that the whole family is a wash. More irritated at this than anything. Why couldn’t the dad just do what he was told? His life wasn’t that bad. And now it was over, because he was no longer useful.

Dad is obviously off his rocker, if he thinks he can take on all the mobsters present, and their pokemon. Dad has a surprise up his own sleeve, a couple of pokemon he trained personally. It’s honestly a bloodbath. Mobsters die, pokemon die, Dad definitely dies. Only the big bad, heavily injured and out of pokemon, survives.  He takes note of the child in the pool of blood, obvious dead at this point, at the dead father, and is irritated at the loss of the assets to the org. He’s damn well convinced that dad was just taking out as many people as he could after he cracked, including his own kid. He retreats to get treated.

As the apartment settles, Emmet emerges. He is still silent. Silent tears, silent steps, makes no sound. Finds his brother’s body, slips something between his lips. Cradles his brother to him, coaxing him to swallow. After an interminable time, Ingo coughs, groans, and sluggishly starts to move again. He is alive. Hurt, woozy from blood loss, but alive. Emmet patches the wound as best he can. Gathers a backpack of stuff. (Walks over bodies. People. Pokemon. Dad. Numb, just keeps moving). Helps Ingo walk. Last thing he does is light the place on fire. It was part of the Plan. Dad didn’t give them a chance to agree, so all he can do at this point is follow it. No one will notice a missing body in the wreckage.

(The truth of it is, the father knows there is no escape unless you’re dead. So if they see his son dead, they will have no reason to ever suspect their escape. So yes, he stabs his son, making a mess of it, but he knows his other son will save them. All he can do is give them a chance.)

They have nothing that hadn't been grabbed/packed before they left. Emmet probably has a pack with some supplies. No pokemon, nothing but themselves.  They make their way to the subway tunnels to hide (where a purple glow awaits).

--

It is a lot of backstory about OCs, yes, but it helps set up the world, and gives the twins a base set to work off of. I have so much more to share, you have no idea!! Such as the slightly more fleshed out meeting with Litwick 8]

--

Emmet and Ingo move slowly through the dark streets. Keeping out of sight. But they need a place to hide, where they won’t be found. They can’t make it out of town like this. They don’t want to leave. They don’t know what to do now. Ingo is in so much pain, and Emmet is just numb to the world. Eventually Emmet’s eyes land on a dark tunnel. Tracks leading into it. Perhaps there.

They limp their way in. Further in. It’s dark. They pass the occasional light, but it’s barely enough to illuminate the way. Some lights are out. Finally Emmet spots a crack in the wall. Big enough to crawl through, a small cave on the other side. It was likely some pokemon’s den. Long abandoned now.

He and Ingo curl together, shivering from stress, wounds, cold, shock, the whole shebang. They are together. They are together. (Is it enough? To keep going? What do they have left in the world?)

Eventually a small light catches their attention. Emmet does not care, but Ingo needs a distraction from his spiraling thoughts. And when Ingo moves, Emmet can get invested. Needs to be pulled out of his head a bit. Outside their little hideaway is a small pokemon. A litwick. It’s warm. They are drawn to the glow, crouching around it. It’s not violent, or scary. (They can feel the pull on their souls. They exchange a tired look. Is it enough? To keep going? At least this way they can be of some use.)

They talk quietly. Admiring the pokemon, because they do love them. (Litwick preens at the praise, feeling a /little/ bad about draining them, but hey, it’s what her kind does. She needs to eat. Not her fault a couple of kids wandered too far from their parents. Right?) Quiet talk about a future they wish they could see, could have a hand in creating. What they would have done with their lives. (Litwick kind of loves what they’re talking about. She also realizes…maybe they DO realize what she is doing. But they are not leaving?)

Suddenly there is a rumbling. All of them are alert (the twins, sluggish. Ingo can barely move. Perhaps litwick had been pulling a little more from Emmet to compensate since she was trying to be subtle. But yeah Ingo is worst off). Unsure what’s happening. An earthquake? A pokemon attack? What?? A pair of lights appears around a corner they hadn’t perceived, piercing through the dark. It’s over in a few seconds. (Time stretched out. The twins brains immediately kicked in that it was a /train/. They were on tracks. Morning had come, though they couldn’t tell because of the dark tunnels.)

Ingo curls over Litwick, unable to do more than scope her into his arms. Emmet with herculean effort pulls his twin with him as he dives off the tracks. They hit the ground and roll, hitting the wall and laying flush against it, clinging to each other, as the train whips by. So close they can feel the wind ripping at their clothes and exposed skin, trying to suck them under its wheels.

When the train has passed, the silence is deafening. That was the last the twins could manage. They were too drained, too on the verge of the end to do more. Ingo’s hand is sprawled out, his blurry vision staring into the darkness (on his back). Emmet (on his front) manages to inch his hand forward, putting his hand in Ingo’s. They are together. It’s enough. Both pass out.

Litwick realizes what the twins have done. That they saved her. They could have left her there to save themselves. At any time they could have done something, but instead they decided to give themselves to her, to protect her even in their final moments. And the future they spoke of sounded so amazing. She wanted to see it come to fruition.

She pushes energy back into them. That’s not how it’s supposed to work, of course. That is how litwick and their line can share energy, feed each other. But it’s the only thing she can think to do, to restore some of the stolen energy to them. Once she senses their souls stop sputtering, are no longer threatening to die (noting their souls now have the purple glow of ghostiness), she begins to drag them. One at a time, slowly inching them into the hiding hole. Pausing every time a train passes, almost holding her “breath”, because while it is scary, it’s also impressive to see it so close, to feel the power of the machine fly by.

Finally she’s able to get them squirreled into the hole. Even in unconsciousness they migrate to each other. But there is a small space between them where she can snuggle in. She may not be able to provide them warmth, but she will not steal from them again. (She absolutely will, but only as a snack lol)

--

Okay, let me get back to your comments. What ways do the boys help Nimbasa other than fighting mobsters. That entirely depends on the timeline, of course. At first, the boys aren’t doing much of anything. They are two kids with a single pokemon between them. First they need to get some partners. That’s not to say they’re not gathering intel on the org, finding patterns, figuring out where they want to start picking at the foundation to see it crumble.

But they also want to see their region thrive when the org is gone. If you just strip it out completely, it leaves a hole behind. Hm, how to phrase this… They need to figure out who can compete in various areas/positions/locations against the org, without really being aware the org is there. The org works behind the scenes, and will need to be taken out in the same manner. Too many people could get hurt in a direct confrontation. So some of what they do as they grow up IS get involved in the people of the town, encouraging young trainers following their dreams, spreading the word about new businesses or efforts to encourage their success, things like that. It’s never them doing it, but they are always there encouraging, guiding, helping.

As an example, Elesa and her dream of becoming a model and gym leader. They would probably meet when they are older, and she is closer to having to make the decision to pursue her dream or not. Perhaps the pokemon league hasn’t had a working gym in Nimbasa for a while, and the twins can recognize this as a great opportunity to get the league’s eyes on Nimbasa. Makes it harder for the org to do things when it’s under the spotlight. And Elesa is good at spotlight.

People haven’t been very supportive of her trying to combine modeling with gym battles, and she is Irritated at it. They think her style isn’t dignified, that gym battling should be taken seriously and not be a circus. (She is this close to quitting the gym thing altogether. That, or showing up dressed as a damn clown, if that’s what they want.)

Ingo and Emmet are likely working on getting the battle subway started. One of the things they determined they needed was a Look. Something recognizable, thematic. They are building their personas. (Really, they are just letting themselves BE themselves here. There isn’t a need to mask their interest and joy, to hide their intentions, to pretend to be someone else. It’s the closest thing to their true selves.) So they go to Elesa and ask if she will design their outfits. They must be fit for battle, tough and practical, but they must also fit Ingo and Emmet. (They had noticed some of the politician-types that were in the pocket of the org harassing Elesa, trying to drive her out. They were determined to get her to stay.)

She is doubtful of their intentions, probably suspecting they either have no idea what her styles are like, or are subtly making fun of her. But their sincerity bleeds through, enough for her to agree. She is unapologetically herself about the designs, which are flashy, complimentary, and tough enough to handle an all out brawl of a pokemon battle. They are delighted, and again their honest joy rekindles her desire to push for her dream.

Another thing that’s going to be a goal, is that the org is definitely in charge of the subway and trains that go through the Unova region. Helps them control people, by limiting their ability to travel. Also by controlling the main method of transport for people and goods, it gives them a lot of power. Borrowing from mipmoth, I think Ingo and Emmet continue to live in the subway tunnels for most of their youth, perhaps even permanently as mipmoth’s comics were showing (loved them so much lolol). Also a lot of the shady dealings can happen in/around the abandoned tunnels or offshoots, so that’s likely where a lot of the physical battles take place.

By the time they are adults, they will have weakened the hold the org has on the subway, enough that they can join it legitimately and finish off their influence by being the ones in charge (they have ambitions, okay).

I also have to think about what this anti-mob organization is (ha ha haaaa i really need a title), that the step-mom worked for. At some point it would make sense for them and the boys to team up, but at the same time I like the idea of them being as baffled about what's happening as the org is.

Honestly at this point, this story is kind of batman-esque, with some detective pikachu in there, and a smidge of detective conan black org. They are going to become vigilantes, but also need to be able to insert themselves into “normal” life as well. Help get the town back on its feet. I have so much more about it aaaaaa

I have been reading a lot of Batman/Danny Phantom crossovers lately, so I too have seen fics exploring Crime Alley, the people and lives there. That definitely influenced a lot of the re-imagining of this story. If you have any ideas/wishes/suggestions, I’d be happy to explore them! I want to flesh out their lives growing up, so having some better direction would help lol.

Okay so this is completely raw train of thought that I refuse to be embarrassed over.  It also may jump around because it was written on two different days, since I had more Ideas™ about it.

Also, Emmet in the distortion world is absolutely influenced by @that1nkyone‘s Distortion Guide AU, tho not lifting anything from where they are taking that story.  Just that their idea of Emmet being in the distortion world definitely inspired my brain to go this way.

This is in my (god damnit I need a title) anti-mob AU

–

How Ingo Disappears

Ingo and Emmet get overwhelmed by some group.  Possibly make it Team Plasma, set during B&W 2 or something.  Or just some splinter group trying to rekindle things.  (Actually maybe when I think this AU out I could figure out how to make team Plasma the mob group.  Hmmmm….)  Either way, and for whatever reason, Ingo and Emmet are tied up while the group tries to do their thing. 

Keep reading

[scap34]

sugar baby!toji x rich! dom! mean! sadistic! manipulative! male! Younger! sugar daddy!reader

Turning your contract fuck buddy into your sugar baby <3

warnings: degrading, cussing, fingering, mild daddy kink, slight feminization, lingerie

Toji was getting too close to you. 

Maybe it was how you fucked him. Your sadistic nature shining through when you edged him for hours and fucked him roughly after. Or the way you treated him. 

Of course you did treat him like he was yours. But you also pampered him, petted his head, and sang praises into his ears until he came. 

The more he was with you, the more spoiled and lazy he got. With you, all he had to think about was how to please you. Sometimes after you played with him for hours he’d forget everything, acting exactly like the brain dead cock whore you called him. 

The money with you was stable. You paid him well, too well maybe. You also covered all his expenses when you were together. When he was with you, he had no worries. 

But he couldn’t always be with you. 

“I quit.” He said suddenly to you. You and him were sitting on the couch. The tv was on, playing one of those ridiculous horse races Toji liked to gamble on. 

Your hands paused typing and you looked over at him. He looked back at you, seriously. His legs were up and he rested against the couch comfortably. 

He was fond of the couch, you knew that. That’s why you’d brought a new couch. It was just for him and you would even work next to him to make sure he had company. 

“You quit?” You repeated back confused. He nodded, uncharacteristically serious. You knew he could be serious but with you, his coldness fell away. You thought you were past this point already.

“Why?” You asked.

He shrugged. “I’m bored.” He wasn’t. You could tell. You could see it in the way his eyes flicked away guiltily. He drummed his finger against his thick thighs. 

Cute. What a liar your baby was. 

“Okay.” You said agreeing. He immediately looked at you surprised by your quick agreement. You forced your lips to not move, suppressing a smirk. 

You nodded at him, copying his seriousness. “I understand. You can move out whenever you are ready. I’ll send the last check as soon as you leave.” 

His mouth parted in surprise and the hurt in his eyes was hard to hide. It was adorable. He was the one who wanted to leave and yet he was hurt by your agreement? 

He slumped a bit and nodded looking downcast. “Okay.” 

Poor baby. You cooed in your head. You wanted to take him into your arms and kiss his head. You wanted to tell him that you never cared about him and see his reaction. 

“Okay.” You echoed pleased. You turned back to your computer, fingers resuming work.  

Toji wanted you to protest but you nonchalantly agreed to let him leave. He thought you’d put a bit of resistance against his decision. However despite your initial surprise you agreed so readily. 

Despite wanting to leave, he couldn’t help but regret his decision. 

Whatever. He would be fine. After all you were just a good fuck that paid him well. He was sure he’d find something else.  …

“Who was that slut?” He demanded. You gave him an unimpressed look. Both of you could hear the note of pain in his voice. 

It’s been days since he quit. Days since he’d seen you and now he finds you shopping for that slut with the black card you used on him? Did you move on that quick?

“He’s my sugar baby.” You replied calmly. 

Sugar baby?

You smirked at his confusion. “Yeah, it’s like the contract between us, but instead of paying him, he lives with me, sleeps with me and I take care of all his needs.”

You what?

He immediately glared at you. “Why did you pick that slut?” 

You moved closer to him. Inches away from him, he could smell your coconut shampoo. A dazed look crossed his eyes for a second. He missed your scent. 

Your lips tugged into a smirk, immediately noticing his reaction. “I thought he was cute.” 

Cute? He did look more feminine. Blond hair, soft features and doe eyes. Was he your type? Did you like that slut more than him?

“I thought he’d look really pretty dressed in lingerie.” You added thoughtfully, tapping a finger against your chin. 

He almost regretted not killing the slut when he saw him. He should have. Torn his limbs off and asked you how pretty the slut looked then. 

“No.” 

“No, what Toji? This isn’t your decision.” You grinned cruelly. Your words were targeted and made to hurt. 

He was sorry, okay? So stop being so cruel. 

“M’ sorry.” He mumbled out. His head was hanging low. His hands uselessly clenched into fists. He couldn’t brute force his way through his. 

“And what should I do about that?” You said smirking. Toji looked at you betrayed. Didn’t he already admit his mistake?

“Take me back.” He muttered under his breath. You smirked like that was what you expected him to say. 

“I have a few conditions.” He gulped at your words. Your tone sounded wrong and there was a cruel smile on your lips. But he knew he’d agree to anything you said. He needed you. He missed you. 

“You will be my sugar baby.”  …

You’re a manipulative piece of shit. Toji realized as he hissed. Hands desperately clutched the sheets, his face was burned with heat. His throbbing cock begged for attention, hitting his stomach each time you thrusted that damn toy in his ass. 

You had everything planned out didn’t you? You’d used that fucking blond slut to make him jealous. And now you had him exactly where you wanted him. 

Face down on your bed, hips raised up, exposing his hole, and all dolled up in red lingerie for you. Lingerie that he wore because you liked it when he was dressed all pretty for you.

He choked out another moan when you rubbed his cock, rubbing it slowly before you let go again. 

“F-fk yu, fuckin’ a-ah!” He slurred out, crying out as you shoved the toy further into his hole. His body trembled, his cock pathetically leaking drops of precum. 

“What were you saying slut?” Your voice stern laced with traces of amusement. A hand roughly smacked his ass, sending a jolt up his spine. 

His mind filled with pleasure as he let out a sob into the mattress, clenching the silk sheets with a white knuckled grip. His cock was so fucking hard. Everything you did to him only made him harder. 

He could barely think. The plug pressed against his prostate, driving him crazy. You were a sadistic bastard. 

Another slap to his ass knocked him out of his trance. This one was aimed a bit lower, right against the plug. He cried out louder, cock spurting out watery white cum. 

His knees gave out as soon as his third orgasm in 2 hours hit. 

Too blissed out, he didn’t notice when you pulled out the plug, and turned him around. 

He didn’t move, keeping his legs spread, eyes closed,and cheek pressed to the mattress. 

A second passed then another. You sighed and moved away from him. His eyes snapped open, and he looked up at you in confusion. His eyes went to your hard cock that strained against your zipper. 

He looked up at you, confused. You didn’t acknowledge him and used a few tissues to clean him up. Tossing them away you draped a blanket over him. 

This is what you did after you were done with him, and yet you still hadn’t come once. You were clearly still hard. Why weren’t you fucking him?

Was he really not enough for you? The thought was like a bucket of cold water that poured over him. The orgasmatic bliss he’d been floating in, disappeared, throwing him back to reality. 

He disappointed you. 

You were walking away from him. A whine left his throat before he could think. He got off the sofa, his legs weak but stable. 

“[Name],” he bit his lip. “D-daddy p-please.” He called out, a pink flush in his cheeks. You froze in your steps. 

You turned around slowly, your eyes drinking in Toji’s lingerie and disheveled state with clear arousal. You liked him dressed like this. He hesitantly reached up and pressed his bra clad pecs together. 

Your eyes immediately zoned into the movement. 

He was right. 

Ignoring the burning blush of embarrassment he played with his chest, that way he’d seen you do it to him. He squeezed them, and rolled his nipple between his thumb and index, moaning when it sent heat straight into his cock. 

You’d covered his cock with the lacy red panties after he finished. His hardening cock, bulging against the soft fabric. The friction only intensified his arousal.

He panted softly, his exposed skin flushed with humiliation. He must have looked pathetic, dressed up like a slut. The feminine lingerie that barely covered his body, clearly wasn’t made for him. But under your lust blown eyes, he felt so fucking wanted.

“Fuck me, daddy. I want your cum in me.” He whined looking up at you with half lidded lashes. Like expected you fell for it.

Your face split into a grin. Taking two strides forward you closed the distance between you and him. Your hands roamed across his chest, squeezing his tits and ass. 

“Gladly.” You purred, fingers slipping into Toji’s loose hole. He sucked in a breath, a moan slipping from his lips. He eagerly grinded down onto your fingers, like he was scared he wouldn’t please you.

You licked his neck and smiled where he couldn’t see it. Your sweet baby. So pretty, and ready to please. You didn’t feel bad about manipulating him.

Dolled up in lingerie, playing with his large tits, cheeks flushed with shame. He looked so fucking erotic. So willing to do whatever it took to make you happy. 

You turned him around, hands on his small waist. He gasped but easily spread his legs, bending over obediently. Your smirk grew, as you lined your cock up to his entrance, pushing in and bottoming out. 

Your baby cried out, still sensitive from his last orgasm. You pulled out and thrusted back in without mercy. The sound of skin hitting skin mixed with both of your moans. 

“My perfect slut. So fucking pretty. Gonna make you my cock whore.” You muttered thrusting into him. Toji, already fucked stupid, eagerly nodded along. His useless cock, spilling beads of cum. 

“Yes, yes, your slut. Want your cum. Please pl’se.” he slurred out, gasping when you buried you hand in his hair and yanked it roughly. Tears bit the corner of his eyes, his expression was aggrieved. 

You chuckled and rubbed the head of his cock in apology. His eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head, small whines, pleas falling from his pink lips. 

Who were you to deny your beautiful baby anything? 

You fucked into his tight ass, his greedy hole clinging to your cock as you pulled out even slightly. 

“P’ease plea-hic,” he sobbed. “M’ w’nna cum, please.” You thrusted into him harder, holding his waist. Your own orgasm building up. Your baby wanted you to use him, so you will.

When you finally cum, Toji collapses forward. His hole was leaking with cum, his body still trembling from his orgasm. 

You tucked your cock away, smiling when Toji’s eyes landed on your softened cock with delight. He was proud that he made you cum. A-fucking-dorable.

You couldn’t wait to spoil this man rotten. Your precious sugar baby.

[hanasnx]

" YOU DON'T SEEM TO LIKE IT WHEN WE TALK " — naoya zenin.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: dedicated to @dosiido. WARNINGS: fem reader ノ dom naoya ノ dubcon: coercion ノ sexual content ノ unprotected sex ノ arranged marriage ノ breeding ノ degradation: m + f receiving ノ objectification ノ size difference.

"It helps you're easier on the eyes." NAOYA ZENIN teases, nipping his teeth against the line of your jaw. You're frustrated, and he's exacerbating it deliberately with how leisured his ruts are. Dragging out this experience at a snail's pace, the anger flared in your chest reignites with each detail of his cock sliding against the sensitivity of your walls. Your lips press together, refusing to look him in the eye despite him chasing it.

"You're a pig." you spit. Unfortunately, he chuckles. It's dark, cold, triumphant. You jerk your head away as you feel his body heat near.

"I'd prefer it if you kept that mouth shut. Might get you into some trouble." he replies, and you huff at his threat. Even if it holds truth, you're sure any fate would be better than remaining his wife. He picks himself up on his knees, large hands splay under your hips to raise them from the mattress. "At least try to act like you want it. You're to carry my heir after all, is that not an honor?" he purrs, rubbing salt in the wound as lifts you against your will. Despite your resistance, he bottoms out, his grasp on you tightening to a painful degree—purposefully making you wince. His powerful body flexes with each movement, not a muscle out of place, yet it appears easy. Like you weigh nothing to him, he uses your hole like a fleshlight.

The lack of lube from your disinterest is not a deterrent for him, instead he winds his deft hips in a circle, lodging his dick all up in your sticky insides. It hurts.

You throw your hands down to the mattress at your sides, neck craned from the position he's chosen to put you in with your back fully arched off the bed and your ass in his hands. "Will you just get it over with, Zenin?"

"I'm enjoying myself, aren't you?" your husband's steady pace of ruts annoys you to no end because he's milking it. He's not even close to finishing, and the sooner he does the sooner this will be done, and he knows that. With Naoya, it's not good enough you're practically his property—and his future incubator—but you're entertainment, too. He weaponizes your distaste for him.

You sigh, clawing into the sheets as a way to curb your anger. If you show too much emotion, you know it'll end badly for you. "This is to serve a purpose. Consummate the marriage, make a kid. I don't want to do anything else." you explain, despite knowing the likelihood it'll bury you. "If you could just—"

"You're just saying that."

Brows furrow, exasperatingly puzzled at him. "The hell are you talking about?"

That sickeningly wolfish grin stretches wider on his features. He'd be handsome if he wasn't so evil, if his personality wasn't so putrid, if he didn't disgust you. His canines and ear piercings alike glint in the dull light, like a yokai. "You can't refuse me." he replies easily, as if relaying the weather. Like his dick isn't in you raw, fucking your drying walls with no regard for your comfort or enjoyment or even fulfillment. "If you don't give me what I want, I'll take it from you."

At the prospect of yet another threat—one you're significantly more wary of—you open your mouth to refute, but your incredulousness is cut short by a palm swatting over your gaping trap. A darker, more sinister fire glows in his eyes as he looms over you. "Speak again, and the clan'll wonder why my brand new wife is tongueless." Your fear shows on your face visible under the large surface area of his hand, swallowing hard. "Make yourself useful and lie there."

@HANASNX 2024 | do not copy, plagiarize, or steal.

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

reader is ovulating and is just really needy and it leads to smut 💀

say that you love me

pairing(s): bf!jj maybank x gf!fem!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, fingering, pet names, praise, unprotected sex

summary: once that certain time of the month rolls around, you find yourself a little more needy than usual.

authors note: thank you for the request, love! i didn’t know whether it was for jj or rafe so i just went with jj. if it wasn’t meant for him, let me know and i can make one for rafe as well!

not edited

do not copy my works. i do not condone rewrites, translations, or edited versions. all my content is my content that i wrote.

not my gif

“baby, please?” you begged and whined. you placed gentle kisses along his neck, legs straddling his sweatpant-clad hips.

he groaned as his hands squeezed at your own hips. “sweetheart, this is, like, the one time we have to be extra careful.”

you pouted. “please, j? i’ll take plan b in the morning, i promise. i jus’ need you right now.”

“you know how risky this is?” he asked, knowing you were ovulating and usually, most couples would be trying for a baby on that very day.

you nodded. “we can be careful.”

“and how do we be careful without a condom?”

your eyes softened with need as you looked at him. “i’m still on birth control, jj. and i’ll take the extra plan b in the bathroom as soon as we’re done.”

he sighed. he could never resist you. ever. and he knew as soon as you started, he’d regret ever denying you.

“fine.”

you smiled and leaned down to kiss his lips, your hips having a mind of their own as they slowly grinded against his.

he groaned against your mouth as his hand slipped further down your body and towards the waistband of your red panties.

his fingers trailed over the lacey material and down to your dripping cunt, rubbing slow circles over your clit. “please don’t tease me right now, j,” you mumbled against his lips.

you hid your face in his neck when he began to apply a little more pressure and start to rub faster circles. your moan was muffled against his skin as your hips ground into his hand, needing to feel more of him.

as if he could read your mind, he pulled your panties to the side and pushed two fingers into you slowly. “fuck, sweetheart,” he moaned when your cunt took his fingers in with ease. “my needy girl. doin’ so good already.”

“more, jj,” you whimpered. “want you inside me.”

he chuckled and kissed your neck. “i am inside you, baby.”

“no,” you replied, moaning out when his fingers began to move faster. “not your fingers.”

he knew you typically had trouble voicing what you wanted. so he decided he’d let it slide this time. he pulled his fingers from you and lifted his hips, along with your weight on top of him, to slide his boxers and sweats down a little.

you had never had sex without a condom, always too scared about what could happen. but right now, all you wanted was to feel all of him.

“you sure about this, sweetheart?” he asked, the head of his cock running through your folds.

you nodded against his shoulder. “yes, i want it.”

and with that, he was sliding into you, making you moan even louder as your felt every bit of him, your legs beginning to shake a little.

this was all you’d been needing.

[bitchiswild]

Secret Spouses

Jang Wonyoung x F! reader

Warnings: Non, Fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

A/n:Another wonyoung fluff!

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"Miss Y/Ln! You won't believe what Miss Jang just said!" The door burst open, and one of my students came charging in, clearly bursting with news from our neighboring teacher.

"Oh boy, what's she up to now?" I chuckled, already bracing myself for another round of Miss Jang's antics. I rolled my eyes at the thought.

"She's all about getting a golden retriever, just like you!" The student blurted out, barely containing their excitement.

My eyes widened in disbelief. Without a second thought, I hopped up and made a beeline for the door. Facing Miss Jang's room right across the hall, I couldn't resist the opportunity.

"Hey, Wonyoung! Quit copying me! I've been wanting a golden retriever way longer than you!" I yelled, shaking my fist in mock protest.

"Ha! You wish! I've had that idea way before you, Y/n!" Miss Jang shot back, crossing her arms in playful defiance.

Our students were eating this up. Our back-and-forth had become a daily spectacle, like a mini comedy show for them. They'd giggle and watch as we playfully argued, knowing it was all in good fun.

"No, I'm sick and tired of you copying me, so stop it," I grumbled, frustration evident as I shut the door firmly. Turning to my students, I exaggeratedly sighed, "Goodness gracious, this lady is making me lose my mind!" Their laughter filled the room, lightening the tension.

Resuming my seat at the desk, I focused on preparing for the upcoming lesson. But before I could get too engrossed, my door swung open abruptly, revealing Wonyoung standing there, her eyebrow raised in a mix of annoyance and curiosity.

"I do not appreciate you slamming the door in my face," she said, arms folded, clearly miffed.

"I didn't slam the door in your face. You were in your classroom. Slamming the door in your face would mean you were where my door is," I retorted, a hint of exasperation in my voice, accompanied by an eye roll.

"Potato, potahto," she replied, her tone nonchalant.

"Go teach your class, Wonyoung," I said, a note of dismissal in my voice, accompanied by a disapproving click of my tongue.

"Fine, but this isn't over," she huffed, shooting me a pointed look, and then briskly walked back to her classroom, leaving a lingering sense of playful tension in the air.

"You and Miss Jang are perfect for each other," one of my students giggled, setting off a chain reaction of laughter among the others.

"I mean, they do say opposites attract," chimed in another student, adding to the playful banter.

Before I knew it, the entire class was caught up in a frenzy of creating a ship name and discussing the imaginary relationship between Miss Jang and me. Their excitement filled the room with chatter and giggles.

"Class, settle down, please," I interjected, trying to regain their attention amid the buzz of gossip. I couldn't help but chuckle at their antics. "Stop shipping us together. She's sooo annoying," I playfully rolled my eyes, hoping to steer the conversation back to the lesson.

"Just saying, Miss Y/Ln, you two would be soooo cute together," another one of my students teased, a mischievous glint in their eye.

"I'll leave that to your vivid imaginations," I replied with a playful grin, hoping to redirect their attention. "Okay, today we're diving into world history."

As the class came to an end, I swung the door open and found Wonyoung doing the same, her students trailing behind her. We shared a knowing wink, a silent acknowledgment of the ongoing friendly rivalry.

"Hey kids, how was class? Isn't Miss Y/Ln super boring?" Wonyoung playfully teased, pretending to snore, earning a few giggles from her students.

"Hey! You're the boring one! You teach math! Who likes math?" I retorted with a mock scowl, eliciting a chorus of "Yeah!" and nods of agreement from my own students.

Our banter continued, the age-old debate between subjects sparking a playful exchange between us, much to the amusement of our respective classes.

"Math is fun! I don't know what you're talking about," Wonyoung declared, sticking her tongue out at me with a playful smirk.

My jaw dropped in mock astonishment. "Do not stick your tongue out at me! Are you a child?" I feigned offense, raising an eyebrow in playful exaggeration.

Wonyoung's response was a soft murmur and averted gaze. "No," she murmured, suppressing a smile.

Laughter erupted from the students around us. "She got you, Miss Jang!" one of the students teased, reveling in the light-hearted banter between the teachers.

"Alright, kids, go grab some lunch. I'll catch you around campus, and remember, if you need anything, my door's always open for you," I said, bidding my students farewell with a warm smile.

"Same goes for me too, kids!" Wonyoung chimed in after me, a playful sparkle in her eyes as she glanced teasingly in my direction, maintaining the playful rivalry without betraying our secret.

Wonyoung and I shared a hidden secret—behind the playful banter, we were actually married. Our students were completely unaware, thinking our ongoing rivalry was all in good fun. It added a layer of amusement to our daily interactions, knowing that our private life was our own little secret, tucked away from their curious eyes.

As the last of our students left the room, Wonyoung and I exchanged affectionate glances. She walked over to me, gently guiding me into my empty classroom before shutting the door. Pulling me into a warm embrace, she planted a soft kiss on my lips.

"How's your day been, love?" she whispered softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, her eyes filled with tenderness.

"It's been wonderful. The kids have quite the imagination; they ship us together," I chuckled, feeling the warmth of our shared secret. "And yours? How's your day been?"

"They have good taste, pairing the right people together and my day has been going well," Wonyoung chuckled, a playful glint in her eyes.

"The day we reveal the truth to them, their minds will be blown," I replied with a chuckle, relishing in the shared secrecy of our relationship, hidden behind the façade of our playful rivalry.

"Well, I better go before we blow our cover. I love you," Wonyoung said, giving me another tender peck before heading off.

"I love you too," I replied, watching her walk to her classroom, where she settled in to eat her lunch. I followed suit, taking out my own lunch and reflecting on the hidden joy of our shared secret.

"Miss Y/Ln! We've finally decided on your and Miss Jang's ship name!" A group of my students burst in with palpable excitement. I stared at them in disbelief. "Wait, you guys still ship me with Miss Jang even after all our banter?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, like we said before, opposites attract!" they chimed in, their enthusiasm unwavering. A chorus of agreement came from the other students, nodding in agreement with their friends.

"Alright, hit me with the name," I sighed, giving in to their excitement.

"(Potential ship name), how about that? It's perfect!" They squealed with delight at their chosen name.

I chuckled in amusement. "That's quite something. Make sure to tell Miss Jang about it; she'd probably get a kick out of this!"

"Okay, let's go now before lunch is over!" They dashed off excitedly toward Miss Jang's room. As they hurried away, I noticed a few pairs of eyes glancing at me, widening with surprise before breaking into laughter at the students' enthusiastic antics with the ship name.

As lunchtime came to an end, the rumor mill had spun our ship name throughout the school. Middle school students, known for their liveliness, were quick to create pairings. In both my 5th-period class and Miss Jang's, conversations buzzed about how Wonyoung and I would make a cute couple.

Even a week later, the chatter persisted. Wonyoung and I decided to reveal the truth during an assembly dedicated to us, with the principal in on the plan. Standing side by side with microphones in hand, we prepared to disclose our secret.

"Hi, everyone. As you've been shipping us together, calling us a cute couple, and believing that 'opposites attract,' we—" I began, but Wonyoung interjected excitedly, "We're actually married, everyone!" She chuckled, playfully stealing the thunder.

Amidst the commotion, the students reacted intensely—some screamed in shock, while others shed tears, claiming that their "parents" were together, whatever that meant.

"Yes, Miss Jang and I are together. Here are our wedding photos if you're suspicious, but you guys are right; we do make a cute couple," I teased the students, reveling in their surprised and joyful reactions. They cheered, as if discovering our marriage was a dream come true.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! The students started to chant, their enthusiasm contagious. Wonyoung and I chuckled, feeling a bit bashful, but we couldn't resist fulfilling their request. As we kissed, Wonyoung playfully exaggerated, dipping me dramatically, and the kids erupted in cheer. We pulled away, laughing at their playful antics.

Then, Wonyoung grabbed the mic once more, excitement evident in her voice. "Guess what! We have an announcement to make. We're going to be parents!" Her announcement sent a wave of excitement through the students, and they erupted into another round of cheering.

Amidst the joyous chaos, we couldn't help but share in the infectious energy of our students. Being teachers brought us immense joy, and moments like these made it all worthwhile.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

[writerastray]

Should we?

General Masterlist - Read this before interacting

Disclaimer:

⚠︎ My works are all protected. I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting. Please reblog if you want to share my work.

⚠︎ My work is only appropriate for adults over the age of 18. Ageless/blank blogs will be blocked.

-> Relationships: Seo Changbin/f!Reader

-> Word count: 4.3k

-> Rating: 18+→ Mature/Explicit

->Genre/Tropes: Halloween Romance, One-shot, Fluff, Fun, (a sprinkle of angst), Smut. Other Additional Tags to Be Added. (Spoiler tags: Friends to Lovers.)

-> Warning tags: Explicit Sexual Content. Other Additional Tags to Be Added.

-> Synopsis: On Halloween night, the city buzzed with costumed chaos, but Changbin’s focus was elsewhere—specifically, on a coffee shop offering free drinks for couples. The thought of cozying up in a warm, pumpkin-scented space, sipping hot drinks, was too tempting to resist. The only catch? He needed a date. And that’s where you came in.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

You lounged in your dorm, scrolling aimlessly through your phone when Changbin appeared in the doorway, his black leather jacket fitting perfectly. The last rays of sunset caught his brown eyes, making them brighter than usual.

Earlier, he had barged in, complaining about how bored he was now that most of his childhood friends were back in his hometown while he was stuck here, finishing up midterm exams. You wondered how long it would be before he found something to occupy himself so you could get back to your peace and finish the book resting on your lap, waiting to be read.

“Hey, did you hear? There’s a coffee shop offering free drinks to couples on Halloween,” he said, trying to sound casual, though you could hear the challenge in his voice.

You glanced up, eyebrows furrowed. “On Halloween?”

“Yep, the one Minho always talks about,” he replied, pushing himself off the door frame with a grin. “Wanna go?”

A smile tugged at your lips as excitement bubbled up inside you. “So, you’re asking me to be your fake date for free coffee? How romantic.”

He shrugged playfully. “Come on, who can resist free caffeinated drinks and the chance to call themselves my girlfriend for a night?”

“Why don’t you take your next one-night stand there?” you teased.

“Because I want to go with you,” he said, licking his lips in that effortlessly charming way before adding, “why? Afraid you'll catch feelings, Y/N?”

You stared at him. “You wish,” you replied, tossing your book on the couch. “Let’s go.”

You weren’t sure if it was the promise of the night ahead or the way Changbin smiled at you, but you slipped into your jacket, shaking your head as you tried to hide your grin. “What I wouldn’t do for a pumpkin latte.”

The humid and chilly air nipped at your face as you walked the already crowded streets, where there were decorations at every store. Some people were in costumes with excited smiles, while others looked just tired from the workday. 

You glanced sideways at Changbin, noting how the streetlights cast shadows across his face. He wore his glasses, looking heartbreakingly handsome in them.

“What?” he asked, catching you staring.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly. “I was just thinking... wasn’t one of your friends working at that coffee shop?”

Changbin smirked. “Hyunjin. I bet it was his idea—the discount for couples on fucking Halloween.” 

You stopped, glaring at him. “Changbin.”

“What?” he asked, looking clueless.

“He’s not going to believe us! When was the last time you even dated anyone seriously?”

His eyes sparked with a hint of hurt. “You’re different,” he replied softly.

“How am I different?” you asked, already mourning the possibility of free lattes slipping away.

“We slept together once, and we’ve stayed friends since then. Who’s to say it couldn’t happen?”

Your heart pounded as his words hung in the air. Memories of a shared summer night came flooding back, and you felt warmth creeping up your neck.

The first time you met Changbin was on the last day of summer at a party in the countryside house of one of Chris’s childhood friends, Hyunjin. 

You were in the kitchen, drinking with Chris and a few of his friends when he said, “Ask Changbin out already. Your crush on him is painfully obvious, and he can’t stop looking at you.”

“I don’t even know him. It’s not a crush; he’s just... really hot.”

You’d been eyeing Changbin since you arrived. He was one of the most attractive guys you’d ever met, and the way he naturally drew attention captivated you. He was just your type.

Once you finally gave in to Chris’s nudges and approached Changbin, everything fell into place. You greeted him, and the way he whispered his name in your ear left you breathless. The conversation was just an excuse for you to say, “Want to go outside for some air?”

It didn’t take long before you were making out with him, his kisses somehow feeling like both an eternity and a heartbeat, leaving you craving more. He fucked you against Hyunjin’s wine cellar door like his life depended on it.

You thought that would be the first and last time you’d see him. You never kept track of the names of guys you hooked up with; however, Changbin’s name, face, voice, and taste didn’t leave your mind.

It was a pleasant surprise when you found out, on your first day of classes, that he would be your calculus tutor for the semester. 

Even better, you knew you were terrible at calculus, which is how you became friends 

He recognized you immediately, but he never mentioned that summer night, and you pretended nothing had happened. You told yourself it was better that way.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked.

He moved closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, his face just inches from yours. “I mean we have good chemistry. We just need to pretend. He’ll believe it.”

Whatever was blossoming in your chest vanished just as quickly.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered.

He grinned, his voice low and teasing. “Think of pumpkin spice lattes. I know you love them.”

Your resolve wavered as you met his gaze. “Fine. But if he doesn’t buy it, you’re paying for the drinks.”

He chuckled, pulling you close and saying, “That’s my girl.” His tone was playful, but the way he said it made your heart skip a beat.

The coffee shop was warm, decorated with autumn leaves, grinning jack-o'-lanterns, and twinkling fairy lights casting a cozy, golden glow over everything. The scent of freshly brewed coffee, cinnamon, and pumpkin spice filled the air as you stepped inside.

Hyunjin stood behind the counter, surrounded by a small group of giggling girls. When the doorbell chimed, he looked up, his eyes landing on the two of you.

“Well, well, what brings you two here?” Hyunjin asked, a sly grin spreading across his face.

“Free pumpkin spice lattes and two cinnamon rolls,” you replied confidently, looping your arm through Changbin’s.

“And a slice of cheesecake,” Changbin added with a smirk, fully leaning into the act.

Hyunjin’s eyebrows lifted slightly. "Drinks are only free for couples."

You smiled, leaning into Changbin and resting your head on his shoulder. “We are a couple,” you said in a sweet tone.

Changbin wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “See?”

Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed, but his grin didn’t fade. "You two? A couple? Please. We all know neither of you do relationships.”

Changbin sighed, though there was a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, there’s a first time for everything."

"Uh-huh." Hyunjin folded his arms. "If you were really dating, you’d have told me ages ago. I’m not buying it."

When your stomach grumbled, you got tired of the banter.

Changbin didn’t have a chance to respond before you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a kiss. For a second, he froze, but then he melted into it, his hand finding your waist as he pulled you close. His lips moved against yours, warm and soft, his tongue teasing yours just enough to send a shiver down your spine. When you finally pulled back, you glared at Hyunjin.

“Are you done, or should we keep going?” you challenged.

Hyunjin’s cheeks flushed, and he cleared his throat. “Drinks on the house.”

You chuckled, glancing up at Changbin’s wide-eyed expression. “Told you he’d buy it,” you whispered as you moved to find a seat.

But as you settled into a booth, you couldn’t help but scream internally, What the hell did I just do?

You snuck glances at Changbin, who was still processing what had happened, his eyes fixed on you. It made you wonder what he was thinking.

The coffee shop filled up quickly. You and Changbin settled into a corner booth, the pumpkin spice latte warming your hands, the cinnamon rolls long gone, and a slice of cheesecake placed between you. You took turns, sharing bites.

You couldn’t stop stealing glances at his lips. The ones I’d just kissed.

“So, girlfriend,” Changbin said with a teasing smirk, “was the kiss worth it?”

Your breath almost hitched. Had he noticed you staring?

You rolled your eyes, pretending to be nonchalant, but couldn’t hide your smile, especially when you remembered the sweet taste of it. “Worth it. We should do this more often.”

“Kissing?”

“Of course not,” you shot back, clicking your tongue. “Getting free drinks, I mean.”

“Are you admitting we have good chemistry?” he asked, leaning closer, his voice dropping an octave.

“I never said we didn’t,” you replied, leaning in. “Besides, I think we’re really good at pretending.”

His eyes locked onto yours. “Oh, and are we still pretending?”

You stuffed a piece of cheesecake into your mouth to avoid his gaze, looking at anything but him. The golden writing on the walls that read “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul…”, a little boy with a whipped-cream mustache laughing as his dad took a photo, two older women sharing a kiss in the opposite corner, and a girl dressed as a witch slipping her number into Hyunjin’s apron pocket. Hyunjin caught your eye, raising an eyebrow.

You leaned closer to Changbin and whispered, “Hyunjin’s watching.” Changbin glanced around and then leaned in closer.

His arm settled around your seat, his hand gently brushing your shoulder. Your eyes met, and you were so close, you could smell his cologne. His fingers traced up to your ear, grazing it softly, sending goosebumps down your arms.

That slight, turned-down smile appeared on his lips—the one you loved seeing—and your stomach flipped.

“Want to kiss me again, Y/N?”

“I think that’s enough PDA for one day.”

He leaned in with a teasing pout and whispered close to your ear, 'No fun,' and you swore you melted right there. Before things could escalate further, you turned to see Hyunjin, who was busy taking an order from a group of students.

“I would like my girlfriend’s eyes on me.”

You looked back, amused. “What are you doing?”

“Just playing along.”

But it didn’t feel like that at all. Not with the way he was looking at you, his voice a low rasp that made it harder to breathe. The air between you crackled with tension, and your heart raced. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, with the scent of coffee and cinnamon mixing in the air. His gaze was so intense, and you wondered if he could sense the shift between you—how every moment felt charged with something neither of you dared to name, yet.

“So, is this where we say we’re in love, or what?” you joked, attempting to lighten the mood, but your voice wavered slightly.

He only chuckled, pulling back and finishing the last bite of cheesecake; you noticed his ears had turned red.

When you finally headed outside, the sun had set, and the streets were bustling. The time had flown by; you wished you’d lingered over your food, stretching out the evening. You’d gone out with Changbin countless times for tutoring sessions at coffee shops, libraries, and parks, but none had ever felt quite like this. Maybe it was the kiss. You couldn’t shake the feel of his lips from your mind. It had been so long since you last kissed him; you hadn’t realized how much you craved it until today.

“So… do you want to head back?” he asked softly, curious.

You paused, wanting to keep this, whatever it was, going just a bit longer. A smile tugged at your lips. “I heard they’re doing an outdoor movie screening in the park.”

Changbin grinned, extending his arm in a mock-gentlemanly gesture. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you looped your arm through his.

The outdoor screening of a classic Halloween movie was right in the heart of the park. The place was softly lit with lanterns, scattered decorations, and couples wrapped in blankets dotted the lawn. You found a spot in the crowd, and Changbin spread out a blanket that the staff were giving as the movie started.

You didn’t even know which movie was playing; you weren’t a fan of horror movies, but it was always fun to watch with someone else, especially if they were easily scared, like Changbin.

As the movie went on, you felt the tension grow between you two. You couldn’t stop glancing at him, wanting to hear his voice and his laugh. 

When you shivered—more from nerves than the cold—he draped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“You know you don’t need to pretend here, right?” You said. 

He smirked, coming close enough that his nose nearly touched the part of your neck that always made you shiver. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “I know.”

You turned to look at him.

Everything felt different. You’d never felt like this before. You could barely look him in the eyes without turning into a complete mess; your heart raced, heat spread through your entire body, and it felt as if the words wouldn’t come out of your mouth.

Would it be so wrong to lean in? To give in to the pull?

There was an understanding between the two of you without words. You were just friends. Neither of you was ready for a relationship. Changbin had told you before that he had a lot on his mind with his internship and university. He was always conscious of boundaries and never crossed that line with you. He was always conscious of boundaries and never crossed that line with you. Meanwhile, you had to study harder than anyone else just to get an average score on exams and assignments. There was simply no time for relationships, even if you wanted one.

So why was he acting differently now? Too flirty, too touchy, too caring. And why were you falling for it?

You tried to mask the heat in your gaze with a smirk.

“You’re not scared, are you?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “Of a classic horror movie? Please.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Changbin. You seem like the type to jump at—”

A loud jump-scare blared from the screen, and you yelped, instinctively grabbing his arm. He laughed, pulling you even closer, your faces now just inches apart. For a moment, time stood still, and the world around you faded away. His eyes darkened, and you wondered if he might close the gap between you. Your breath caught in your throat, your lips parting as you waited. But then he pulled back slightly, the tension heavy between you.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” you whispered, though your heart pounded against your chest. “I’m fine.”

His eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze. “You sure?”

No, actually. I’d feel better if I could feel your lips on mine again.

You wanted to shake him and demand to know why he was holding back if he felt the same way. Instead, you swallowed the urge and forced a smile.

“Positive.”

But the way he held your gaze, the slight tightening of his fingers on your shoulder—it was as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

As the movie ended, you both walked back toward your apartment. The night had grown colder, but you didn’t mind—it made you even more aware of how close Changbin was. You found yourself dragging your feet, not quite ready for the night to end. You only realized you’d stopped walking when he glanced over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised.

“What’s wrong?”

You hesitated. What could you possibly say?

Today had left you confused. For months, he’d acted like nothing would ever happen between you two, but tonight... Did you read it all wrong? You weren’t sure how to tell him you didn’t want the night to end—that maybe you wanted more than just tonight. But what would he think if you said that? What if it made things awkward and ended your friendship? You swallowed the thought.

You couldn’t say that.

“Nothing.”

But his expression shifted, a knowing look crossing his face as if he could read the unsaid words hanging between you. You recognized that look in his eyes. He’d looked at you like that more than once—especially the night he fucked you. Did he want more as well? And if he wanted it, should you spend the night with him, just one more time? Be one more of each other's one-night stands?

“Right,” he said teasingly, though there was a warmth in his tone that felt different. “You sure? Because it looks like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Was it a mistake to try again? Tonight was perfect. You didn’t want to ruin it by acting on something you might regret tomorrow. Part of you knew that if you indulged in whatever was happening between you two, it would only be for tonight. By morning, he might let you go, and you weren’t sure you were ready to face those feelings again.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

The moment stretched, and he stepped closer; you could feel his breath brushing against your skin, intoxicating and warm.

“I just—” But before you could finish, he reached out, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering a moment too long.

“You just…?”

“Don’t want to go home yet," you said.

“Oh.” He paused, studying you for a moment. His gaze lingered on your lips before meeting your eyes. “Wanna crash at my place instead?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Should you go? See where things led? What was the worst that could happen? Catching unrequited feelings.

Were you willing to risk it?

“If you don’t want to, it’s cool—”

“I do,” you interrupted, the words rushing out before you could stop them. “Let’s go.”

The warmth of Changbin's place enveloped you instantly as you stepped inside, filling the air with the familiar scent of laundry. It was enough for two and cozy, thanks to his roommate.

“Seungmin’s not here,” he said, his voice low.

You wandered over to the window showing the city nightscape. You’d always loved the view from Changbin’s apartment. You remembered the night before finals, the two of you cramming by that very window, papers scattered everywhere on the floor as you studied together.

You smiled, arching a brow as you turned back to him. “So that’s why you invited me, huh? Don’t want to be lonely tonight?”

He snorted, walking over to wrap his arms around you. Changbin wasn’t shy about showing affection, but this time, it felt different, and you felt your whole body tingle under his embrace. “Maybe I just wanted my girlfriend around a little longer.”

“Are you sure? What if things change?”

His hands guided you to face him, one hand resting on your waist. “It’s a risk, for better or worse.”

“And you’re willing to take it?” you asked softly.

He lifted your chin, meeting your gaze. “Only if you are.”

A rush of adrenaline surged through you. You didn’t stand a chance; there was no way you could say no to him. It was a pull that always kept you gravitating toward him until you collided. Fear of the unknown, of getting attached to something that might not last—all of it faded when you locked eyes with Changbin. The need for him was stronger than any fear.

Fuck it. 

You leaned up and captured his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, molding his lips to yours with a quiet urgency that made your stomach drop as if you were riding a rollercoaster. It was all you could think about.  His strong arms locked around your body, and you melted in his embrace. 

It felt like everything you’d wanted and more—exhilarating, and undeniably worth it.

You let a moan escape at the feeling of his tongue on your lips before he kissed you again. He groaned, his palm tightening at the back of your neck, while his other hand slid down your side.

“Why haven't we done this before?” he asked, his hand reaching the outer part of your thigh, giving your ass a firm squeeze through your jeans, making you wish you had worn a dress.

You couldn't even answer with the way his lips found your throat. His lips trailed down to your collarbone, fingers sneaking under your shirt. His hands were cold, and you shivered as they moved higher until they slipped beneath your bra. He gave your breast a gentle squeeze, and your hands clenched against his shoulders when he pinched your nipples.

Your fingers locked in his hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him harder. He pressed you against the wall, bruising your lips, and your hands flew to his neck. You gasped when his hips pressed harder against you, and you felt the thick length of his cock gliding along your skin.

You pushed away from him enough to say, “Are you sure? Because once I start, I don’t think I can stop.”

“There’s no reason to stop, sweetheart,” he replied in a low voice that made your heart race and your underwear wet.

Without breaking eye contact, your hand slipped down from his neck to his waist, pausing at the waistband of his underwear. You could feel his hardness trapped behind the fabric, and he exhaled sharply as your fingers closed around him. Pre-cum already glistened on the head of his cock, and when you dragged your thumb over it, he let out a soft groan.

Changbin kissed you slowly and gently at first, then deepened the kiss into a frantic, desperate swirl of tongues.

You pulled down his pants, freeing his cock, and quickened your strokes, feeling him swell beneath your grip as his hips moved in rhythm with your hands. He kissed you messily, hungrily, along your jawline, biting at your neck with every movement of your hand, hardening further under your touch, until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Couch, Y/n.” He scooted back and grabbed your hand.

He led you to the couch, gently pushing you onto it, his eyes devouring the sight of your body sprawled out before him as he knelt between your legs. His lips found yours, Changbin’s hand moving along your inner thighs, higher and higher.

He helped you take off your shirt, and you silently thanked yourself for wearing decent new underwear and a matching bra. He unclasped your jeans and yanked them down along with your underwear.

Spreading your legs, he muttered, “Fuck, sweetheart.” He gently parted your pussy, drawing slow, deliberate circles on your clit, letting you soak by the second.

“Changbin, please,” you begged, your body burning beneath his touch, his gaze glazed with desire.

“I missed you being this needy for me,” he said, making your core clench at his words.

Your back arched as Changbin lowered his mouth, kissing the skin of your inner thigh and then moving upward, inch by inch, drawing a sharp breath once his lips found your pussy.. He brushed it lightly before taunting you with languid kisses that left you trembling. You curled your fingers into his hair, your hips shifting at each stroke.

You bit back a cry when his tongue slid across your slit. He licked and teased your clit; his kisses lingering whenever he drew a moan from you, but never for too long. You tightened your grip in his hair as the pressure coiled inside you, begging for release. It came when his eyes met yours, drunk with lust, sending you over the edge. You arched into him as pleasure crashed into you, waves leaving you breathless. But you didn’t want it to end—you needed more of him..

“Binnie, please, fuck me,” you whispered, your hands finding his cheeks as you looked at him. “I need you.”

His eyes widened before he gave that smirk that made your heart race.

He crashed his lips to yours, wrapping a fist around his cock and angling it down to drag the head over your clit, wetting himself with your arousal.

“Hands above your head,” he instructed, shifting forward and pressing you against the couch.

You gasped as he moved his hips, rubbing the full length of his cock against your clit. Your desperation grew with each slow thrust of his length against you.

As if sensing your pleading, he hooked one arm under your thigh, spreading you wider as he angled himself. Your hips sank lower as the head of his cock nudged your entrance. Then he seized your hips and thrust inside you.

You could only whimper in response, your pussy making a squelching sound around his length. He thrust into you shamelessly, noisily, moans bursting from your lips with every movement of his hips, until you couldn’t hold back anymore and came.

Butterflies stormed in your belly as Changbin’s hips bucked compulsively, and he came, gasping and groaning.

You felt your body grow heavy as Changbin withdrew and kissed you softly. He disappeared into the bathroom, then returned wearing shorts, holding a clean shirt for you and a towel to help you clean up.

After everything, you lay with your head on his lap, exhaustion and euphoria filling you. His hand gently caressed your arm, and you looked up at him with a soft smile.

“We should really keep doing this couple discount thing,” you teased.

He smirked, a glint in his eyes. “Like me being your boyfriend?”

You met his gaze, and the words rushed out, “What if I like it?”

His fingers brushed your cheek as he whispered, “Then maybe we should stop pretending.”

Hope bloomed in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Should we?”

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Author's note: Hi! I hope you liked this story. English is my second language, so please excuse my errors. Constructive feedback is always appreciated! I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting of my work.

Did you enjoy this? If so, please reblog it. Thank you for reading! Sending love 💕

Copyright © 2024 by Writerastray.

[h5eavenly]

Carousel┃H.HJ SMAU

Forty-Two - You're My Biggest Wish.

warnings: pure smut, degrading names, dirty talk etc

wc: 6.4k

playlist: keep on loving you - cas / affection - between friends / lana del rey - cinnamon girl

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“Is this everything?” you ask, your voice reverberates through your living room that is now filled with brown closed boxes. Your hands are on your hips, turning to face Hyunjin who has made himself comfortable. Leaning against your doorframe as if he always belonged there. He looks good in your apartment; you note to yourself.

He hums back, an answer that you take as a yes if the soft smile that adorns his pretty face anything to go. His blonde hair is pushed back, revealing the burden of prior days in his features. Your own eyes soften at him, your heartstrings tug towards him. Begs you to take care of your soul. You ignore it. Just for a fleeting respite, you know when this storm of emotions passes by, you’ll end up in his arms anyways. You wonder when did this sly cocoon of a game even started, a push and pull between you and yourself, trying to resist him only to end up on your knees for him.

“What?” Hyunjin asks with a tilting smile when your stare lingers, his voice echoes against the walls of your heart, pulling beats out of it just for him with ease. A subtle fragrance of something akin to love floats in the air surrounding you, waving itself into the playful raise of his brows, it has you running away from it, an endless yearn to flee from his gaze as you shake your head.

“Nothing.”

Warmth cradles you in Hyunjin’s hands when he reaches for you, a longing that seems to be lastingly cemented on the palm of his hand when he touches yours. You look at him in question.

“Thank you for letting me and Hannie stay.” His voice is small, in complete contrast to the way he towers over you.

“You already thanked me like ten times Jinnie.”

“I feel like it’s not enough.”

“It is more than enough. If there’s anything else, I could do for you then please tell me.” The familiar softness of your voice pulls you to his heart, you sit in the middle and spread your angelic wings and take all the space. Have his heart tighten around you and nothing else. He finds himself in a rare state of being at a loss of words. So instead, he leans down, and his lips graze the skin of your cheek placing a kiss there.

 “Thank you, baby.” He whispers right into your cheek, knits his promise.

When he pulls back, your eyes are wide with loving sparkles and your cheeks pinked in his golden effect. It has him smiling, only at you who manages to stroke his ego beautifully each time.

Oh, how do you manage to bloom into the prettiest flower just under his gaze.

Your momentary bliss is interrupted by the steps of Hanuel running towards you with an excited bounce, he scurries through the maze of boxes and a thrilled beam stretches into his face, he looks so much like Hyunjin when he smiles, resembles the sun in an alike way and your heart tightens at the sight. You barely could handle one. Let alone have another copy of him.

“Noona!” he exclaims in calling for you, bringing attention to the box of the console you forgot to hide in between his short arms, he hugs it to his chest as if it was as precious as he looks.

“Can I play with this please? I’ve wanted a ps5 for a while.” He jumps up and down, glee echoing in his voice that has you smiling along. You open your mouth to reply, your words hold onto the tip of your tongue when Hyunjin talks milliseconds before you.

“Hannie you can’t just go around and snoop through people’s places.” He scolds.

“But Hyung,” Hanuel pouts, pure and childish in the way his brows knit together in disappointment.

“it’s okay Hannie,” you kneel in front of the smaller kid, a reassuring hand ruffles his black strands.

 “I actually bought it for you so yes you can play with it whenever you want.” Hanuel eyes widen, an even bigger smile takes place on his face and his excitement has you giggling at the happiness dripping from his innocence.

 “Hyung! Noona said it’s mine.” He boosts, turning to Hyunjin with giddiness evident in the way he won’t stop jumping and then in a swift moment he has his arms around you, throwing his small body into your embrace.

 “Thank you so much Noona!” he says sweetly, and you’re taken back, eyes wide in shock and hands frozen awkwardly mid-air. have not expected that yet still manage to pat his back in time before he’s hurrying out the room to turn on his new ps5.

“What was that?” Hyunjin asks with narrowed eyes, displeasure all over his face and you only smile bashfully at him.

“A gift?” you reply with a tilt of your head, he shouldn’t find it that endearing.

“I can’t accept that we’re giving it back.”

“Please don’t. Hannie has been through a lot he deserves it.” You sway on your feet, a trying task to win his affection and approval for your impulsive acts “Besides, Felix told me that the only reason you started working was so you could buy it for him. And now with everything that’s going on with your mom you can’t pay the hospital bills and buy him that.” You continue before he interjects again.

“Y/N…” Hyunjin sighs, shoulders slumped, and his eyes betray an unsubdued vanquish. He always hated being at the weaker end of things. Grew up with a pride as big as him and you soften at him. Closing the small distance between you when your warm palms envelope his cheeks in increasing comfort.

“I wanted to do it, so I did it, you don’t have to repay me. Just take it okay?” your tone is sweet, hanging over his head like a cloud of alleviation.

“it’s too much,” he replies, shaking his head stubbornly and you huff.

“You don’t see me repaying you when you take care of me.”

“That’s different.” He counteracts with another shake of his head.

“Why? Just because I used money doesn’t make it any different. It’s just my own way of taking care of you.” Hyunjin keeps quiet for a moment, contemplating your words with clear hesitation clinging to his eyes as they look into yours. You jut out your bottom lip in a pout, batting your lashes at him in attempts to end this discussion and Hyunjin is immediately weakened, rolls his eyes just so he won’t have himself melting at your feet.

“Fine.” He grumbles and you smile.

Your tired body stumbles in the dark living room in search of the kitchen and hopefully a glass of water to quench your thirst, almost tripping over a box on your way you barely make it alive or at least that’s what it feels like when you see Hyunjin standing there. Grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his upper body bare, he’s shirtless. His necklace nestles perfectly against his pale skin, catches light from the moon stealing the flickers of shine all to himself. He looks ethereal and suddenly the sleep clinging to your lashes is gone in a blink.

He pauses amid drinking his glass of water, looking your way with tired eyes, dark circles adorning the under of his eyes, his hair is a mess atop his head, falling in unkempt blonde strands over his face. Yet the sight still manages to send your heart into the deep end. The air feels heavy in your lungs when you try to breathe it in.

“Hey,” he speaks first, voice softer than your dimly lit kitchen. And as he glances at you, his gaze seems to cut through the air with an almost tangible sharpness through the clearness of the glass between his fingers, appreciative and enticing as they trail over your figure. It burns you and his tiredness abandons his body at the vision of you in your white lace night dress.

“Hi,” you clear your throat hoping to dissipate the tension that’s melting on your skin, you felt it start to bubble up from the heat instead. “Can’t sleep?” he asks when you dawdle past him and head for the fridge, your powdery scent lingers in the air and he closes his eyes for a moment, sucking a deep breath in, feels it swirl around and hug his body in a warm embrace of you.

“Yeah,” you take one of the bottled waters, uncapping the lid to take a sip. The cold liquid fills you up with satisfaction. A trickle of water drips down the side of your mouth and Hyunjin watches it, eyes growing hooded. His eyes flicked to your plush, pink lips then scanned their way back into your wide, gleaming eyes. He licks his own, and brings your attention to them, you feel them calling for you. Your hand tightens around the water bottle.

“Why are you awake? I thought you went to sleep hours ago?” your voice is soft, leaning your shoulders on the fridge behind you, its coldness makes you shiver. Hyunjin only shrugs in silence, with clear intentions not to chat with you, he places his empty glass on the kitchen island and makes his way to you as if a magnetic pull is drawing him in.

“Were you thinking of me baby? Is that why you can’t sleep?” you blink at him, surprise overtaking your features at his sudden smugness that he wears in the smirk on his lips, he consumes your form with a dark assessment. A chill run across your spine, leaving you unsure if it’s the proximity of Hyunjin’s naked body or the cold of the fridge.

“Maybe.” Your voice no more above a hushed whisper, he looms over you, gaze turning serious, and a glint lingers there, dressing itself as raw attractiveness, he’s enraptured by your beauty.

His knuckles brush over your cheeks and satisfaction takes him when your dark lashes flutter, leaning into his touch and flapping your wings across the honeyed swipes of his affection. With a cup to your jaw, he’s asserting his dominance over you leaving you with no choice but to sway frailly under him.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, voice hoarse. you almost think you imagined it. You think your inner desires are speaking to you, whispering your wishes back to you, your wishes that you had ever since you were seventeen. But the brush of his nose against yours tells you otherwise.

“Yes.” You whisper back, right into the growing garden of love between you two. Your voice waters every blooming rose and Hyunjin finds himself melting once again, in the folds of your existence. His eyes dart all over your face as if he also can’t believe the word that came out of his mouth. As if you ever had a choice. He brushes his lips against yours and it has a shiver running down your spine. Arching your exposed back from the coldness of the fridge and into him. His hands are on your jaw, caressing it softly and then his pillowy tinted lips are on your softer ones.

It's dizzying, your head is spinning, and your senses are overwhelmed by the sweet taste of his. Your inclination takes over, pushes you to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you. Closer, closer, closer... you need to become one with him. The press of your breasts into him has him groaning against your plush lips. In response his tongue glides across your bottom lip begging for something deeper, for you to take him deeper. You open your mouth with a gasp, your hands are in the soft strands of his, tangling your fingers in them and spreading your delicate love in his roots. His tongue licks into your mouth, enlisting soft whines from your pink lips, his hands find solace on your waist while your tongue fights to keep up with the rhythm of his.

He pulls back with a gasp, desperate for air he wishes he didn’t need, lips plump and eyes darkening. You chase after him, your longing has you on your knees and you’re a slave to your ever-growing love. Pressing pleading chaste kisses to his lips, he breaths out a chuckle against you, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, your body growing hot when he dives back into you with a newfound fervor. You tilt your head, and his hands travel down leaving a scrooching fire behind, sets your body alight with vigorous lust.

The intensity of the heat and passion of your shared kiss rendered you weak, has your legs shaking. When his hands reach the back of your thigh, his short nails digging into the plump flesh of them you can’t fight back against your need for him anymore, they betray you just like they’re not your own emotions and instead submitting to Hyunjin, transforming themselves into a sweet moan that tumbles out of your lips and into his. Swallowed by him and right into the lap of the monster he’s been trying so hard to keep at bay. Something snaps in him, his kisses quickly turning bruising, like the broken dreams you both built in your imagination when you were teenagers.

You’re unable to stand anymore, growing weaker and Hyunjin notices, tapping the back of your thighs, you jump, and he catches you like he always does, your legs wrapping around his waist, and he walks you to the closest counter, placing you atop of it and rests his forehead against yours. In attempts to regain his sanity back, the same one you seem to steal ever since he first saw you. You keep yours open, like a wanderer who finally found their home, they flit over his features, counting his lashes and your thumb brushes over his mole in softness that only you are capable of providing.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for the longest time.” He speaks first, standing between your legs and hands on the silky skin of your thighs. His hands are everywhere but nowhere close enough. You make it obvious by the way your ankle nudges his back, urging him forward and he comes so easily. Wonders how it is so easy for you to crawl into his skin, the sight of you. Hair tousled and swollen lips are enough to have his cock thickening up in the space of his boxers. He holds himself back, tugs on the leash of his desires and sits still. Dares his thumb that is brushing the inner of your thigh to not inch upwards.

“Me too,” you smile like you didn’t just have him by his heart, your eyes are like a dangerous weapon you aim carelessly at him, his own expression softens. Melting into unyielding affection for you.

“You’re so pretty.” He says it like it’s a spoken fact that you should have memorized by now, doesn’t understand the way your cheeks color in splashes of light pink and the way the intense emotions in your eyes have dwindled into the look of a broken girl you tried so hard to protect. It hits you out of nowhere, the void that has managed to suck the life out of everything in you is there again. You didn’t know someone could look at you with so much love and not reproach.

“Remember when we talked a while back about being scared of...” you speak after a moment, threading your fingers with his as if you were teenagers again and you reached for him for the first time. Feels electricity spreads through his limbs at your touch. warm and loving as you wave your other hand around in futile tries to describe whatever you guys have “...us?” you finally settle with, Hyunjin’s playful smile is teasing at you and you shove at his chest, ignoring the feel of his bare skin on your palm.

“I remember baby, what about it?” you pretend his endearment doesn’t affect you, like your heart isn’t dissolving at soft brush of his thumb. You pretend like his touch is not sending waves of arousal to your underwear.

“You never told me what you’re scared of.”

“I think I’m most scared of you leaving.” There are contradicting emotions in his inky eyes, vulnerability dressed in pain you caused, and you almost see it, the flashes of your past in his gaze, the day you left is fresh in there.

“Why do you think I’m gonna leave?” you ask with a squeeze to his warm hand, you feel a pang in your chest right where your heart is when he looks down, avoiding your eyes like it’s painful to look at you.

“I know I’m not good with these things,” your free hand cradles his jaw, softly as you smile at him encouragingly, reminding him you both are different, that despite the similarity that encompasses you, the striking differences are still here.

“I know the first time we failed I’ve treated you poorly. I was bad at showing you how much I loved you. I made you feel alone.” He confesses endlessly like all his sins are the only reason you ended up falling apart. As if you weren’t an accomplice in this crime, as if you didn’t stand on the grave of your love and looked down at it with an oldening stare. The truth stays logged in your throat, your eyes never leave his, a smile on your face and a pool of emotions rose-colored shimmer in the flickers of color in your eyes.

“I’m just scared of the past repeating itself. Of making the same mistakes.” You don’t have the heart to tell him that you know how this story ends. You don’t tell him about how you know time unravels, rewinds only to place the same fractures on your hearts. Were you selfish or too broken for the glimmering light they call hope? You’re not sure.

However, when Hyunjin leans into the warm embrace of your palm, turns his head to place a tender kiss there nestling another whisper of love that will only haunt you when he turns his back to you one day, you think it’s both.

“You won’t make the same mistakes Jinnie, I see you trying.” you smile in hope of reflecting the same tenderness.

“What if I’m not trying hard enough?” He questions, tone frail and laced in a rare display of insecurity that has you aching.

“You don’t need to try harder than you already are. Just you, is more than enough for me.”

But I’m not enough.

I’m not worth it.

Are the words you swallow down, lodging them in an endless poetry of broken promises and salty tears that you’re sure you’ll read to him someday just not tonight.

“I need to try harder because there’s no one else for me,” he confesses to you, eyes melting into yours in delicacy that wraps around your heart, calling for you and you respond right back by a brush of your thumb on his cheek. He closes his eyes momentarily as if he’s savoring your touch, drinks up all the love you’re dripping and asks for more. When he opens them again, they’re a shimmering pool of everything he had ever felt for you, it seeps into your being.

“you’re my biggest wish Y/N.” you feel it taking over you, the need to run and hide. The need to run away from him. An overwhelming fear attacks you at the fact that you know there’s no one else for you as well. Destiny is cruel, linking you to him, drawing him onto your body, soul, perfectly so no one else can keep up, the emptiness you feel won’t ever be filled by anyone other than Hwang Hyunjin. Perhaps that’s why you were speechless, running away from all the words you wanna say like a coward and instead you entwine his necklace between your fingers, tugging him towards you and into a soft kiss that you hope is enough to convey your feelings.

He kisses back just as tenderly, drowning you in affection, it has you choking on him. Your lips melt into one another, desperate to find new ways to connect, new ways bring back what once has died.

“Take me, Hyunjin.” You mumble against his lips, your breath mingling together. He moves to back away and your grip on the back of his neck tighten. Holding him in place, feeling like you might fall apart if he’s not next you if he’s not all over you.

He shakes his head at you in dismiss, faux denial that almost makes you want to whine.

“I can’t. I want to do this the right way” he’s breathing heavily. An evidence of his overflowing want for you and maybe that’s why his rejection doesn’t hurt you but fuels you to push him further into the abyss but you’ll be there to catch him “I’m already yours so why should we wait?” you repeat his own words to him, it has his eyes darkening so obviously drowning in lust and feeding off the tension building around you two.

Your hand reaches for his, circling his thin wrist and guiding him to where you need him most. He watches with growing anticipation as you trail his hand down your body and in between your legs, both of your chest heaving as you press his hand over your clothed sex, his thumb presses over your clit that is covered by the lace of your panties, now destroyed with your excitation and your eyes flutter at the contact, lips falling open in need of more.

Hyunjin is fascinated by you, watches you in complete ecstasy as he feels white hot flames licking at his cock “you’re so wet angel.” He whispers the words right atop of your lips, kisses them into you and you almost lose it. Bucking into his hand, chasing after his touch.

“All for you.” You mumble back, spreading tempting kisses all over his face, over his lips and then his chin “please take me.”

Hyunjin is all but a strong man. At least not when it comes to you, if only you knew the amount of control and power you had on him. It doesn’t feel like something a mere human should be able to do to him. Has him questioning who you are roaming this earth right next to him. A flutter of your lashes is enough for Hyunjin to be a goner. His hands grip the roots of your hair pulling hard enough to earn a sweet gasp from you, pretty pleading eyes looking up at him has him hardening painfully so in his pants.

“Are you gonna stop acting like a slut if I fuck you?” he jeers, grows amazed at the way you preen under his words, head nodding as if you’re on the verge of death and he’s your only salvation. He rewards you with a quirk of his lips, a brush of his thumb on your inner thigh “go wait for me in your room.” You’re quick to listen, jumping off the counter and hurrying across the kitchen.

Hyunjin doesn’t take long to find you, it left you slightly swaying in excitement like you’re a prey that’s hiding in innocence that is nowhere near real, and when Hyunjin is by your door, the hallway light illuminates his lithe figure. A nervousness mixes with your excitement, leaves your stomach sinking and your fingers clutching the silk of your sheets. It’s a different setting with a similar scene and reversed roles when he walks towards you, eyes heavy and feral and by the time he’s in front of you, you feel breathless.

Your underwear sticks uncomfortably with wetness. Hyunjin’s fingers graze your chin, dragging your attention to him. You look up with wide eyes, soft and fond while his are alight with pure lust for you. He leans down, squeezes himself in your space and takes your lips in a short kiss, too sweet and pure. A juxtaposition to his darkening desires.

“Lie down.” He whispers and you follow with eagerness to please. Obvious in the way you climb up the bed and fall backwards on one of your pillows. Your hair sprawled around you and your night dress rising to give him a glimpse of your lace panties is enough to have him drunk on his desire for you.

Hyunjin stares down at you with a look full of adoration and mix of want. A desire to destroy you, devour you, his hands itch and he follows. A trifling victim to your existence.

Hooking his leg over you, he cups your cheek sweetly, a swipe of candied devotion has you closing your eyes, ashamed to be witnessed in the acts of wanting him, needing him. His hand trails down, brushing over your lips, chin until they’re wrapping around your throat and lets the weight of his hand rest there, not yet adding pressure.

The glazing of your eyes when you open them has him smirking in something akin to winning a prize, you inflate his ego.

“You like it?” he asks, and you don’t answer. Can’t find your voice until his fingers start to slightly press against your throat, just enough to have you struggling for a breath.

“Answer.” His eyes narrow and you gasp softly, a symphony he only wishes to be good enough to play again.

“Yes.”

“Who knew you were this naughty?” he growls, teases his thumb with a swipe on the heart of your throat and you whimper, squirming under his gaze.

“Hyunjin,” you plea, voice doused in desperation and Hyunjin only chuckles darkly, finds himself constantly amazed by the way you always fall apart so easily “mhm?” he looms over you, tilts his head in faux wonder as his grip on your throat relents and he places a bruising kiss there instead.

“Please don’t tease me.” Your eyes are pleading, crumbling in a way that you hope is enough to convey your need. In a way that you hanker is enough to feed his ego just so he’ll spare you. Hyunjin only smiles at you, mean and cruel as his thumb strokes over your cheek.

“didn’t you just tell me you’re mine?” you nod incessantly, yearning for his approval.

“Then be a good girl for me and take it, mhm?” your head lolls to the side in defeat, your whole chest enveloped with warmth at the brush of his lips against yours and it’s soon replaced with his index and middle finger, prodding your bottom lip.

“Open.” His voice drips in dominance, your eyes blink at him obediently before you’re opening your mouth and taking his fingers inside. Hyunjin swallows thickly, eyes lidded as he stares at you, feels the way your tongue swirls around his digits.

“Fuck look at you.” You stare back at him, unrelenting and he almost lets himself deviate at your extant.

“Wish that was my cock in your mouth yeah?” his eyes hover over your lips, filled to the brim with lust and voice breathy, low, and more than anything validating when he sounds as needy as you are. You close your eyes in bliss, moaning around his fingers as the images of what he said flash in your mind. It has you tripping over the edge, your core drips completely soaking the fabric of your panties.

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything as he takes his fingers out, your pouty lips and glazed eyes call for him and he follows as if he’s under a spell. Pressing his lips to yours in a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth and he swallows every sweet sound. Pines for another part of you to keep inside of him.

He leans back, watches in satisfaction the way you surrender yourself to him, fully.

He bunches the rest of very little fabric of your night dress and rid it all the way up exposing the lacy material that’s dripping with the mess of your cunt.

He moves to take your panties off, takes his sweet time to slide the fabric down your smooth legs. You’re spreading your legs for him almost shamelessly, pathetic in your need for him and he’s all but drunk on his ego when he looks at the mess on your puffy pussy. His brushes his thumb between your folds, his eyes imploring naughtily into yours.

“How bad do you want it?” His smirk is almost evil, entranced by you and the way your expression falls, eyebrows dropping and the way your eyes fill prettily with tears, resembles the moon and Hyunjin is nothing but a follower.

“S-so bad,” you whimper, voice on the edge of broken and Hyunjin only tsks, causing your heart to sink.

 “Say it like you mean it.” He’s stern and you whine.

“Hyunjin please,” your tears trail over your cheeks like rain on his heart, in the sweetest way, he wonders what is this addicting sugary fondness that covers everything you do under his watching eyes. His heart is in his throat when he leans over you, wishing to repay your sweetness while pressing kisses that are nowhere close, to your tears.

“Shh come on, I know you can do it.”

“Please fuck me,” you writhe under him, your entire body prickles in heat “please I want you so bad.” Hyunjin rewards you with a soft smile, a loving kiss pressing to your cheek “good girl.” His breath tickles you, heart swelling in your chest and the need to please him takes over, driving you right into complete submission. It has you melting on your sheets when his digits finally sink into your warm, wet pussy. Your mouth falls open in a moan, hips rutting against his fingers for more.

You feel it all the over your body, in your veins and running alongside your blood is nothing but a need for him, a longing for the boy you had loved ever since you were sixteen and even now, moons later you’re only ever plunged deeper into this love. Like he had stolen you away and locked you up.

Hyunjin watches you like a hawk, burns the vision of you under him behind his eyelids, wishes to see you every time he closes his eyes. He draws his fingers back, eyeing the way in which your pussy grips them before pushing his fingers forward, your back arches off the bad, mouth spilling sweet mewls and whines. It has his own mouth agape, high on your voice.

“can’t wait to feel you on my cock.” He mummers, absentmindedly and eyes focused on your cunt. He adds a third finger just to see it slowly stretch around his fingers, just to feel you fall apart and thrust your hips forward, wildly in uncontrollable need that takes over you and for him, only ever for him. It’s the telltale of your approaching orgasm, chasing after it. But Hyunjin is a selfish asshole that swears to break you over and over again. Your high is ruthlessly ripped away from you, leaving you with a cry of frustration, more hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

His gaze is dark upon you, heavy and lidded as he brings his fingers to his mouth, closing his pinked lips around them in vaunt. Your tears are marring your eyesight, chest heaving, and you whimper when he moans as if to savor your taste. The sound has you soaking your sheets.

“Please, Hyunjin...”

He stays quiet, his own patience wearing thinner and thinner the more you cry, His expression serious and hungry as he unties the drawstring to his grey sweatpants. He’s impatient, needing you close, so he quickly frees his cock from the shackles of his boxers. He hovers over you, his palm rests next your head, using the other to guide his length between your folds, using you to wet his cock.

Your mouth falls open in mewl, hips bucking and hole clenching in anticipation “Please,” you whimpered pathetically, your arms locking behind his neck. Your touch burns him and sets his heart on fire. He stills, as if he’s captivated by you. His mind was swirling with only the image of you, the smell of you engulfs him. The air is stagnant, the lust surrounding you deepens, fades into love that dances between you two. A dance of temptation to watch which one of you two will fall first.

And it’s always him.

When he takes your lips into his he feels like a prisoner who has been deprived of the light for so long, a yearning so deep in his soul that suddenly devours him whole and snaps when he sinks himself into you, let himself drown in you and you welcome him like he’s coming back home. Right where he belongs, the feeling of your wet walls that swallow him whole has him breaking your kiss, throwing his head back with pleasurable groan as his hips drive into you.

“Fuck waited so long for this,” he slurs, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and onto you. You who’s nothing but a withering mess under him, you who’s sobbing uncontrollably into his skin and manicured nails digging crescent into his back, leaving yourself all over him.

Hyunjin basks in your kitten like whimpers, in the way you look, your tears that are only ever for him, the clenching of your walls around him has tipping over the edge of insanity. Losing himself in the existence of you, he begins to thrust into you faster, harder, deeper.

“J-Jinnie,” It has your eyes rolling back, mouth agape as your moans are buried within the sheets when you bury your head into your shoulder, drooling all over the silk. The sensation almost too good, pleasure rakes over your body and Hyunjin finds himself following you once again, lost in the waves of your pleasure, he grabs your hand to center himself, entwining his fingers with yours “yeah? Feels good?” his whispers dances along the side of your face, dipping to your neck to litter bruising kisses. Promises of marks for you to remember this night for a little while.

You could only nod, incapable of making a coherent sentence and Hyunjin snaps his hips forward, forces his cock deep inside you “so fucking warm this fucking cunt is mine yeah?” he groans, grinding his pelvis against yours and you cry out, back arching impossibly higher into him, the fabric of your night dress burns your skin “yes! Yes!” his filthy words travel deep inside your core, and warmth spreads inside you, a familiar knot starts to form in your stomach. He looks down at your flushed face, with your mouth heavy and your eyes wet, he finds himself wishing once again he had his phone to take a picture of this specific moment, a picture of you being wrecked by him so he could jerk off to it later.

How does he still want you so badly when he’s inside of you?

You mewl when he grinds you into you, right in your sweet spot, it has your walls clenching around him tighter as your orgasm approaches “you’re gonna cum for me pretty? Mhm?” He rasped out, listening to how wet you were. You don’t answer him, your swollen lips are busy spilling endless pretty sounds that add fuel to his fire, drilling into you just to hear you again and again. He fucked into you like you’ve unlocked a different part of him.

“g-gonna c-cum Jinnie.” You whimper, a buzz reached every inch of you, your muscles tensing, and your stomach tightens.

“Cum all over me baby. All over my cock.” He growls with a bated breath, hips stuttering as his own orgasm approaches him like a tempest, colors explode behind his eyelids and your voice rings in his ears as he fucks you through your orgasm and through his. You felt your cunt gushing around him while he spilled himself into you to complete the process of tainting you, he’s got all of you now.

You close your eyes, overpowered by the exhaustion of your body that you don’t get to linger in because Hyunjin is all over you again, in the throbbing between your legs, the skipping beats of your heart and his lips on yours. Capturing them in a sweet kiss, fond, that renders you breathless when he pulls back to stare at you, his hand squeezes yours with dripping affection.

“I love you.” His own words take him by surprise, had jumped from his heart right to his mouth and spilled right into your face without his permission. A complete betrayal. That sends him into panic, all the pages he had written about doing this the right way rips itself in front of him. They stare at him in defeat.

You fall into a similar surprise, the words echo in your ears and travel down to your chest, has your heart stopping for a mere minute as if you had gone dead for a moment. A moment when those words had come out of his mouth. Your silence makes his stomach twist in sick knots, eyebrows furrowing as he asses you in a tentative dance of your eye contact.

“You don’t have to say anything back. It just slipped i- “

“I love you too, Hyunjin.” Your tears come back like a rain flood, descending gently upon your cheeks, and stabbing at his heart painfully, his thumbs wipe at them gently, a hesitant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as if his reality and dreams interweave leaving him in a daze. A hue of greying clouds separates and there’s only you.

There’s only you and he’s not entailed to keep looking for you everywhere he goes. You’re here, you never left.

“You do?” he asks, yearning. Hope comes in and takes over every glint in his eyes and your tears somehow multiply, spreading their salty pain through your already aching soul. The graveyard that you had in your heart blooms into lilies instead. Resembles the upcoming spring, the peaches in his scent that clings to your body now, and the warm tinges of pink on his cheeks.

A sense of fatality gripped you, and you pray like a hopeless tragedy for more time. Just a little more time.

“There’s not a day that goes by without me loving you, Hyunjin.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

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[slerixx]

ume’s morning hair routine !

note. vv short. just got inspired by nii satoru’s recent artwork of ume. i’m so in love w this man 🦋

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. You sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Umemiya finished his shower, his hair damp and unruly. He always took great care of his hair, meticulously styling it every morning, but today you offered to help.

"Let me do your hair today," you said, smiling as you picked up the hairdryer and flat iron.

Umemiya paused, slightly surprised, then smiled back. "Alright, but don't mess it up," he teased, sitting down in front of you.

You chuckled, feeling a flutter of warmth in your chest. "I promise I won't."

As you carefully dried his hair, you couldn't help but admire the way it shone under the light. His hair had always been soft and silky, and you loved the way it framed his face when it was styled just right.

Once his hair was dry, you picked up the flat iron, gently running it through each section of his hair. Umemiya closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your hands working through his locks. It was a rare moment of intimacy, one that made your heart swell with affection.

"There," you said softly, smoothing down the last strand. "Perfect."

Umemiya opened his eyes and turned to look at you, a playful grin on his lips. "How do I look?”

"Handsome as always," you replied, leaning in to plant a kiss on his forehead.

He chuckled, reaching up to cup your cheek. "Thank you, my love." he said, his voice soft and sincere.

As he stood up to get dressed, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. These simple moments, these quiet mornings spent together, were what made your relationship with Umemiya so special.

And as he turned to leave for the day, you couldn't resist calling out, "Don't forget to come back home looking just as handsome, okay?"

Umemiya laughed, waving as he headed out the door. "I'll try my best!"

As the door closed behind him, you found yourself smiling, already looking forward to the next morning you could spend together.

© slerrix 2024. all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, or repost any work as your own.

[reivrze]

burnt | park sunghoon.

in which you try to help out sunghoon with his burnt tongue pairing. sunghoon x reader word count. 0.4k note. very random ngl, i was just bored, hope you enjoy !

Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table, his fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of tea. The fragrant aroma filled the room, comforting and inviting. The steam curled up in lazy wisps, dancing under the soft kitchen light.

As Sunghoon took a sip from his steaming mug, his eyes widened in surprise. He had underestimated the temperature, and the scorching liquid seared his tongue, causing him to yelp in pain. He quickly set the mug down, fanning his mouth with his hand.

Not far away, you entered the kitchen, drawn by his sudden outburst. You had always been captivated by Sunghoon's playful nature, and you couldn't resist teasing him whenever an opportunity arose. A gentle smile played on your lips as you witnessed the scene before you.

Approaching Sunghoon, your eyes danced with amusement. "Careful, love," you teased. "Looks like your love for hot beverages got the better of you this time."

Sunghoon pouted, pretending to be offended. "You're not going to console me, Y/N? No sympathy for a burnt tongue?"

Your expression softened, and you stepped closer, your eyes twinkling. "Well, I suppose I can't let you suffer alone. Maybe I have a solution for that."

Sunghoon's curiosity was piqued, and he watched intently as you leaned in, your lips hovering just above his. The playful glint in your eyes matched his own mischievousness.

With a playful smirk, you pressed your lips gently against Sunghoon's tongue. It was a tender, lingering kiss, filled with warmth and affection. Sunghoon couldn't help but feel a jolt of electricity shoot through him, a mixture of surprise and delight.

Pulling away, you chuckled softly, your voice a melodic sound in the air. "There, all better," you said, your tone laced with amusement.

Sunghoon blinked, momentarily speechless. The burning sensation in his mouth had vanished, replaced by a pleasant tingling sensation. A wide grin spread across his face, his eyes sparkling with gratitude.

"You, my dear, have magical healing powers," Sunghoon declared, a playful glimmer in his eyes. "I should burn my tongue more often if that's the cure."

You laughed, your laughter filling the kitchen and washing over Sunghoon like a warm embrace. "I don't think that's necessary," you replied, your voice light and teasing. "I'd much rather see that playful smile of yours without any pain involved."

Sunghoon's grin widened, and he pulled you into a tight hug, your laughter blending together in the air. In that moment, the playfulness and affection between you created a bubble of joy, encapsulating the kitchen with your shared happiness.

As the embrace ended, you playfully tousled Sunghoon's hair, your touch gentle yet full of warmth. "Now, let's make sure you don't burn anything else today, okay?". Sunghoon nodded, his eyes shining with a mixture of mischief and adoration "Deal."

© miyu 2023 - do not copy, translate, repost or plagiarize my work anywhere !

[x-uno]

Stolen Glances and Culinary Charms. PT 4.5

notes : SO WHATEVER DID HAPPEN THAT NIGHT??? HMMMMMMMMMMMMM I WONDERRRR ( THIS CHAPTER IS JUST A FLASHBACK ! ! ) I was supposed to post this yesterday but I totally forgot ^^;

<< 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 >> | 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

“SANJI?” YOUR VOICE, A SOFT AND AFFECTIONATE WHISPER, flowed effortlessly from your lips, reaching his ears like a melody he couldn't resist.

His name on your tongue was a sweet symphony, a cherished melody that he longed to hear over and over.

The world around you seemed to blur, the music fading into a distant echo as the room's vibrant colors turned into a hazy memory. You were caught in a suspended moment, and your heart raced as Sanji leaned in, a promise of an impending kiss in his eyes.

But just as your breath hitched, he surprised you with a soft, loving peck on the nose. It was a tender, unexpected gesture that filled the air with affection and warmth. Time stood still for that brief moment, a reminder of the sweet, innocent connection between you two.

“Apologize.”

“For what, my dear?”

“Not kissing me properly.”

Sanji's heart skipped a beat, and he closed the distance between you, his breath warm against your skin. “Ah, madam,” he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, “I could kiss you properly a thousand times, and it still wouldn't be enough. But believe me, as much as I want to, I'd like to do it when we are sober.”

Your enthusiasm filled the air, and you stood tall, holding onto him with eagerness in your eyes. “I'm sober now!” you exclaimed, a spark of excitement lighting up your face as you spoke.

Your enthusiastic response caught him off guard, and he found himself at a loss for words. The unexpected boldness in your actions and words stirred something deep within him, a torrent of emotions he couldn't easily dismiss. Desire coursed through him, but so did a realization that had been waiting in the wings.

With his silence, you tilted your head, puzzled by his reaction. Your eyebrows furrowed in uncertainty as you searched his eyes for a response. But before you could utter a word, he made a sudden move, pulling you into a warm, comforting hug. His face found refuge in the crook of your shoulder, and a deep blush colored his cheeks.

His heart raced, and embarrassment washed over him like a tidal wave. It was an unfamiliar sensation, and he clung to the embrace as a way to conceal his now-rosy complexion. His bashful response was endearing, a side of him rarely seen by others.

In that moment, as he held you close, the truth dawned on him like a gentle revelation. His feelings for you were undeniable, and he couldn't keep them hidden any longer.

He loves you.

As he buried his face in your shoulder, he couldn't escape the weight of his realization. The depth of affection he had for you, the unspoken love that had grown quietly within him, had now surfaced. And as he clung to you, he knew that he was willing to take a chance, to see where this new, unexpected chapter might lead. 

His heart was yours, completely and irrevocably.

@narutoskz @honnelander @browneyedhufflepuff @katiemrty

taglist: reply to be added !

© 2023 x-uno ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. 

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓

PAIRING : dean winchester x original female character

STORY SUMMARY : in series masterlist

CHAPTER WARNINGS : age-gap. playful teasing. a bit of angst. protective reader.

A/N : i loveeee this gif! credit to @stormbreakers . don't forget to check out the story masterlist if you missed previous chapters. thanks for the love guys, it never goes unnoticed or unappreciated!

Maricela's POV

"Abaddon? Seriously?" Dean asks rhetorically, staring angrily at Sam as we walk to the Impala. "Thought you Kentucky Fried that meat suit."

"I did, Dean." Sam counters, his hands raised slightly, trying to resist an argument in public.

"You—Well, then, how did she get it back?" He questioned before thanking the officer who raised the crime tape to let us off the scene. "And why's she playing G. I. Joe?"

Sam answers back, just as annoyed as his brother. "No clue. Why don't you ask her when we find her?"

"Oh, I will. Then I'm gonna chop her freakin' head off—again."

We enter the car, and then it hits me. Abaddon. I swear I've heard that name before.

"Wait—isn't she the Knight of Hell who tried killing you and your grandfather a few months ago?" I ask, making sure we're talking about the same monster.

Dean starts the engine, answering, "Yeah."

"I thought you guys chopped her up and scattered her remains. But you just said Sam burned her vessel. I-I'm confused." I confess, unable to put the pieces together.

Having needed a demon to cure, they had reassembled Abaddon's vessel for the final trial. Before they could use her as a test subject, they stepped away to take a phone call, and when they returned, she had escaped. Having previous knowledge of the Devil's Trap bullet, her unattached hands pried it from her skull so she could get away. She used her freedom to track Crowley down, and when she found him at the abandoned church, she attempted to kill him for the throne. Before she could ruin the trial, Sam doused her meat suit in holy oil and set it ablaze. So, the big question remains: How is she back and in her old vessel?

Darkness fell upon us as we drove towards the bunker. Sam's phone began to chime over the music. Leaning over, he reached into his dress pants to retrieve his phone. Dean and I peeked over, wondering who would be calling at this hour. It was none other than our very own prophet.

Sam puts the call on speaker, greeting, "Hey, Kev. What's up?"

"A lady called Dean's other phone. I answered, but she expected to speak to a Winchester. So instead, she told me to give you a message: She has something you might want." He spoke in a rushed and shaky voice.

"Kevin, wait. Wait. Wait. Slow down." says Sam.

Ignoring, he continues, "She gave me these coordinates—44.053051 by -123.127860— and two names, Irv Franklin and Tracy Bell."

I type the numbers into the notes app on my phone before copying and pasting them into Google.

"Irv's a friend. Don't know Tracy." Dean replies.

"All right, the lady said they were hunters and that if you didn't go save them, that she would kill them."

"Yeah, I've heard that song before." The oldest hunter shakes his head, unamused.

"Dean, who was she?"

"She's the bad guy," he admits. "All right, new job. Dig up everything Men of Letters have on Knights of Hell."

"Knights of Hell?" With some hesitation, Kevin complies, "Sure."

"You find a way to kill one—I mean permanently—drop a dime," Dean mentions.

"Thanks, Kevin," Sam says before ending the call.

I zoom in on the digital map before presenting, "The numbers point to a spot on the outskirts of Eugene, Oregon."

"You know this is a trap, right?" Sam stares at his brother.

"Yep," he answers unfazed.

Scoffing, Sammy asks, "And we're just gonna walk right into it?"

"Guns blazing," he says fearlessly before glancing at his little brother. "You with me?"

Sam chuckles before shifting his gaze on the road ahead. "You know it."

Dean looks into the rearview mirror, locking eyes with me. "What about you, sweetheart, you with me?"

A flutter of familiarity tickled my stomach as I softly smiled back at him. He held my gaze until I answered, "Always."

Before arriving, Dean stopped at a gas station so we could change. As we neared the designated coordinates, my heart quickened its pace. No matter how many times I fought alongside the Winchesters—or alone—my anxiety crept in, going over all the things that could go wrong. When we arrived at the gated part of town, I suppressed the negative thoughts and replaced them with positive ones. However, with the history behind this area, it became difficult to sustain a sense of optimism.

A chain fence had enclosed the abandoned buildings. Sam hopped out of the car and pushed open the sliding gate so the Impala could fit through. After Dean parked, Sam and I walked a few yards into the vacant town. Graffiti painted the stone structures while weeds grew on or around the buildings. A large, rusted sign was posted near the fence, reading: DANGER. HAZARDOUS WASTE AREA. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

"The hell happened here?" Dean asked, halting beside me with the army green duffle bag in hand as we stared at the crumbling buildings.

"A local chemical plant sprung a leak years ago. They evacuated three square blocks." I answer, visually searching the windows for any sign of life.

"Guess it's still contaminated," Sam adds.

"Wait, so this whole place is poison?" Dean questions uneasily, turning his attention toward Sam and me.

Replying in unison, we answer, "Yeah."

Dean moves his left hand to shield his nether region, attempting to protect his prized appendage against the toxicity lingering in the air. His eyebrows furrowed, undoubtedly debating if this mission was worth risking his manhood. I stifle a giggle, finding his action both cute and silly. Sam judgingly watches his brother's action, staring him up and down.

"That's not gonna help." He remarks before walking away, leading the venture further into town.

"It doesn't hurt," Dean mutters.

My giggle slips this time, attracting the older Winchester's attention. I nudge his arm before nodding in Sam's direction. "C'mon, big boy."

We walk towards the younger Winchester while taking in our surroundings. Birds caw in the distance, disrupting the vicinity's silence. We begin to pass Ozzy O's Diner when we hear a loud thud come from within. Concomitantly, Sam and I reach for our waistbands and take out our loaded guns. With our firearms raised, we ascend the few concrete stairs. Standing before the door, Sam glances in my direction, giving me a look. A look that silently asked if I was ready, to which I nodded with confidence.

Sam kicks the door open before storming inside with me on his tail. The sun's rays poured into the diner, illuminating its light upon two bound individuals. The man and woman were bound together while pieces of cloth muffled their cries for help. Sam and I step aside as he beckons Dean over. He strides in and makes a beeline for the older man.

"Irv? Hey." Dean's gruff voice fills the quiet diner as Sam shuts the door. He pulls Irv's gag down before asking, "Where's Abaddon?"

"Abaddon's been torturing hunters. She's trying to get intel on you boys." The older man confesses breathlessly.

"Do you know why?" Sam inquires.

"I seriously doubt she wants to add you to her Christmas card list. Now, do you want to make with the rescue or what?"

"Right after you take a shot of holy water, huh?" says Dean.

Sam retrieves his flask from the inner pocket of his jacket and approaches the girl. His fingers unscrewed the cap before tugging the cloth she involuntarily fashioned off as I put my gun away. She opens her lips to welcome the demon test. He fountains the holy water into her mouth and cups her chin to catch any excess water. He steps away, waiting to see if she flinched. Instead, she swallowed without hesitation.

"Happy?" She asks rhetorically, looking between Sam and me.

"Sorry about that," Dean utters.

Irv responds with understanding, "Don't worry about it. Last thing you need is us popping black eyes."

Dean reaches in between the hostages and breaks their restraints.

As the girl stands, I ask, "You're Tracy, right?"

She—and just about anyone else over five foot two—towers over me. Her eyes glimpse over my appearance from head to toe before answering my question with a nod.

"I'm Maricela Coca." I introduced myself before the Jolly Green Giant did.

"And I'm Sam Winchester."

Tracy glances at him like she did with me and responds with noticeable disinterest, saying, "Good for you."

Silence fell upon the room, startled at her curt reply. In that unexpected moment, I instinctively whipped my head towards the source of her disdainful glares. My eyes widened with shock, and my mouth hung open in disbelief. I was left dumbfounded. Did she just talk to you like that?! I shouted at Sammy in my head. He meets my eyes and shakes his head, advising me to let it go. My mouth began to twitch, wanting to say something just as crude. Just as I was going to allow my tactless opinions to emit, Irv began to advocate for her.

"She's new. We did a shifter job in Sacramento together. Smart, but got a mouth on her."

She scoffs but doesn't deny his comment. Dean's deep chuckle immediately catches my ear. Giving in to curiosity, I turned and gave him my full attention. His charmingly crooked smile gleamed in the dimly lit diner. All eyes were on Chuckles as we awaited an explanation for his laughter.

"Sounds like our Mari," He jokes, lightening the mood.

My lips part to say a witty remark, but Sam's snicker stops me. Instead, I roll my eyes and decide to move on. "Let's gear up."

Dean picks up the bag of weapons from the floor and moves it onto the countertop. I leave Sammy's side and walk over to his brother. He begins to splay the reminisce of the bag across the dusty surface. Sam perches on the edge of a table near the window to keep an eye on any demons.

"All right, we got Jesus Juice," Dean places his flask of holy water on the counter before continuing the rundown on the weapons he brought. "Guns loaded with Devil's trap bullets. Shoot a demon, put him on lockdown. The Angel Blade works—"

A distant clatter came from outside the diner, capturing everyone's attention. Sam gets up and moves toward the window. He peeks through the dirty blinds, confirming, "They're coming."

"Good," Dean responds confidently.

"They've got assault rifles," Sam mentions, dampening his brother's enthusiasm.

"Okay, less good," I add.

Dean shifts his focus to the weapons, searching for a plan.

"So, what's the play?" Irv asks.

Dean quickly explains a way to distract the demons. After he finished, I helped sweep the contents back into the duffle before he swung the sack over his shoulder. He nods at Sam, gesturing for him to lead everyone to the rear exit. I maneuver to the front of the group and quietly open the door, searching for demons nearby. After ensuring the coast was clear, I raised my hand and waved. We advance to the edge of the building to survey the area. Nada.

Sam's large hand covers my shoulder, offering me comfort. A reassuring nod is shared between us before we shift our gaze back to Irv and Tracy. Capturing their attention, Sam points to another spot where we could discreetly escape. Following their confirmation, we run like hell and wait for Dean. The distant sound of the diner's front door being forcefully opened echoes through our surroundings. Dean walks around the corner where we hid before telling us the other half of his plan.

"All right. We got to flank seal them douche in there, so, uh, Irv, you and me will go left. Sam, you, Mari, and Tracy go right." He orders.

"Okay. Let's move," says Sam as we walk in our assigned direction.

His hands grab our forearms, making sure we stay close. Suddenly, Tracy spins on her heel and pushes him away, maintaining a safe distance between them by extending her arm.

"Don't touch me." She barks.

Sam's eyes widen, surprised by her outburst. My rage causes me to see red, and before I know it, I push her arm off of Sam and use my strength to shove her body away. Tracy stumbles back, nearly bumping into the dumpster behind her, as I step between her and Sam. Her stunned expression flashed into anger before she charged toward me to attack. Meeting her challenge, I take a step forward, but Dean rushes over to intervene just as Sam pulls my body into his and holds me still.

"Whoa," I shrug from their restraints as I stare down the out-of-line female. Dean's eyes linger on my face before turning to Tracy, asking, "What's the problem?"

Tracy inhales before looking at the youngest Winchester and painfully confessing, "My family's dead because of him."

Taken aback, Sam asks, "What?"

"I watched a demon slaughter my parents, and the whole time, it talked about how it was celebrating. How some dumb kid let Lucifer out of his cage."

Tracy glared at Sam with intense hatred after she recounted her story. Although she had acted like an ass, I really couldn't blame her. My eyes shifted toward Sam, only to have my heart break even more as I witnessed grief consume both his mind and body. Before I could move to console him, Dean interjected.

"Okay, all right, we got to move. Uh, girls with me. Irv." He pats Sam on the chest, finishing his sentence with his gesture.

"Okay. Let's go, son." The older man tells Sam.

Sammy lingers behind me, staring sorrowfully at Tracy.

"He's going to be okay," Dean whispers in my ear after his brother follows Irv.

I nod in agreement and try to refrain from thinking of how much Sam was beating himself up. Dean marches away to play line leader as we trail behind. With our guns off safety, we cautiously move along the surrounding buildings. After rounding our last corner, the view of the diner was straight ahead. Dean peeks at the restaurant's entrance before giving further instructions.

"Okay, I think they're still inside. We wait till they come out, and we pick them off one by one." He gives us the side-eye before seizing the opportunity to address the new girl's animosity toward Sam. "Listen, for the record, Sam's not the only guy who thought he was doing right and watched it all go to crap. Okay? That's just part of being—"

"Being a hunter." Tracy finished with acerbity, not understanding the mini-lecture.

"Being human. Look, you want to be pissed off at Sam, that's fine. I get it. But if you want to go after somebody, you make sure that they got black eyes. Got to know who the real monsters are in this world, kid."

She remained silent after he finished his speech, allowing his words to marinate. The quietness was short-lived as gunfire erupted in the distance. On instinct, we raised our guns high and low, scouting every inch the barrel of our guns could see. After the shooting stopped, Dean silently motioned to move forward. Suddenly, Abaddon jumps out of her hiding place and clotheslines Dean, knocking him flat on his back.

My body wanted to run to his aid, but my brain told me to fight. I aim my handgun at Abaddon's head, but before I can pull the trigger, she telekinetically flicks it away. My hand instinctively reaches into my jacket, attempting to retrieve the angel blade I keep stashed away. The pads of my fingertips barely grazed the handle when she waved her hand, sending me into a brick wall. I heard Dean's voice call my name before everything faded to black.

Dean's POV

"Mari!" I call as she flies into the building beside her.

Her head hits the aged bricks, knocking her out cold. Before I could get to her, Tracy fired an entire round into the Knight of Hell. I swiftly move from the path of danger, instinctively protecting my face by covering it with my arms. Once the clip was empty, my eyes instantly scanned Mari's body, checking to see if she was free of any ricochet. Thankfully—other than the injury that she-demon caused—she was okay.

"Nice grouping." Abaddon mocks, lifting her black shirt to reveal her bulletproof vest. "Kelvar. Beats magic bullets. I love the future."

While the demon was distracted, I stealthily grabbed my flask from my jacket. I silently unscrewed the cap before flinging the holy water at the Knight of Hell. She gasped in pain as the purified water burned her vessel. As she stumbled away, I rushed to my feet and reached into my jeans pocket for my keys. After fishing them out, I grasp Tracy's hand and place the keys in it.

"Listen, my car is three blocks over. Go get more bullets, more holy water—get everything."

"No, no, b-but what about you guys?" She stutters.

I push her away, yelling, "Just go! Go! Now!"

Tracy listens to my order and runs away. Immediately, I fall to my knees next to Maricela before scooping her delicate frame up from the dusty ground. Carefully, I release her from my embrace, settling her against the wall. I cast a glance at Abaddon and see her recovering from holy water. Gentle but urgently, I shake her shoulder and leg simultaneously, attempting to wake the Sleeping Beauty. When she doesn't move, my hands anxiously cradle her wounded head. Blood seeped from her hair, running along her temple and onto my hand, painting it red.

"Come on, princess," I beg, worry filling every cell in my body. "Wake up."

Not having enough time to check for a pulse, I force myself away from her, fearing the worst. Protectively, I stand tall in front of Mari and face Abaddon. She brushes her hair out of her face and smiles wickedly. Her red lipstick mirrored the anger that was boiling inside me. My muscles ached with pain as I waited for the right moment to wipe the smirk off of her face.

She briefly glances at Maricela before returning her gaze to me. "Alone at last."

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[pepperonidk]

vi. in a perfect world || all i could do

"It's not a problem, just a challenge to resist temptation." "I finally got something right." 

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x f!Reader Summary: In a perfect world, it would be him and you and nothing else would matter, but it's fine. it's fine, really. Warnings: alcohol mentions, jackson wang party mention, jihyo is listed as a hybe artist oh well, soonyoung furry mention, seungcheol is a terrible manager Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: so sorry that things go downhill from here. I love my girl jihyo i'm so sorry she's catching strays in this series. I've now mentioned 9/13 members.

join the taglist! previous chapter || back to library || next chapter

“How’s your mom’s house?” Jihoon asked casually. 

“It’s fine,” you replied simply. “Same as it was last week.”

“Cool, cool,” he nodded.

“How’s Cal-”

“I have to-”

You and Jihoon spoke at the same time and he watched as you reached to fiddle with the watch on your wrist. “Sorry,” he began. “What were you saying?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you brushed off. “You have to go?” 

Jihoon pursed his lips together in a small smile and shook his head. “I still have a few minutes until call time.” He could see relief flooding your features.

“Are you sure?” you questioned as Jihoon nodded back to you.  

“Yeah,” he nodded back. “What were you up to today?” It had been well over two months since Jihoon saw you in person and a few weeks since the last time he got to spend more than just a few minutes on a call with you. It was difficult to start a world tour right after getting married, but you encouraged Jihoon to jump on the opportunity. He couldn’t lie and pretend that he wasn’t hoping you’d push him to go.

“Well,” you began with a proud smile. “I met up with some friends and we just had  some boring small town shenanigans.”

Jihoon let out a chuckle. “And that entails?”

“Me, Minghao, and Hansol ran into my high school ex at the store,” you explained as Jihoon playfully rolled his eyes.

“That guy Joshua?” his nose scrunched in disgust

“Yes, him,” you continued. “Anyway, believe it or not, he was in the music section holding a copy of your album when Hansol walked up to him to say hi.” Jihoon laughed as he watched how animated your features were. 

“He was really surprised to see me,” you noted. “He looked really embarrassed when he saw that I saw your album in his hand, then he was all ‘oh, your boyfriend right?’”

“And what did you say?” Jihoon asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

“I corrected him, obviously. I looked at him and held up the big ass rock on my finger,” as if to demonstrate, you held your hand up to the camera, the silver band glinting in the light of your laptop. “I looked him dead in the eyes and said, ‘husband, actually.’” 

“That’s my girl,” Jihoon praised you. “Did that scare him away?”

“Yes sir,” you mimed a salute. “He just put the album back and walked away. So of course, I bought it and four more copies. Gotta make sure my husband gets his coin.” Jihoon felt himself swell with pride. Something about the way you were so proud to show him off made him feel good. Something that went beyond confidence.

He heard his manager call for him through the door. “Jihoon, they need you for soundcheck.”

“I’ll be right there,” he called before turning his attention back to you.

“Soundcheck?” he watched as your features deflated before you plastered a smile on your face anyway.

“Yeah,” he replied begrudgingly. “Sorry we didn’t get to talk for long.”

“That’s okay,” you smiled weakly. “Seven minutes and 38 seconds beats our call from last week.” 

“Thanks for understanding,” Jihoon replied. “I’ll talk to you when you wake up, good night okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Have a good show. I love you.”

Jihoon blew a kiss at the camera. “Love you too.”

He hung up the call and slipped his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants as he left his dressing room to meet his manager in the hall. 

“Jihoon,” he scolded. “We’ve been trying to get hold of you for 20 minutes. The sound engineers are–”

Jihoon cut him off with a scoff. “They can wait 20 minutes,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s not like there’s anything else for them to do.” He picked up his pace to walk ahead of his clearly annoyed manager. “You perform in 19 cities and suddenly I’m just the help,” he mumbled loud enough for Jihoon to hear and turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What was that, Seungcheol?” Jihoon asked with feigned politeness. Seungcheol let out a sigh, shaking his head and jogged back to meet Jihoon where he was. “That’s what I thought.”

“On the phone with your girl?” Seungcheol asked and Jihoon nodded. “Why don’t you just fly her out for one of the shows?”

“She’s busy working,” Jihoon explained. “Something about her lab being on the brink of publishing.”

“Yeah, that’s true, I guess,” Seungcheol relented. “Don’t you miss her though? I know you guys decided to nix the honeymoon so you could go on tour.” They had reached the sound booth backstage and Seungcheol set his clipboard down to help Jihoon get his mic wired on.

“I mean, I do miss her,” Jihoon agreed. “But this is literally my dream, and it’s not like I forced her to agree to this.” He recalls the day he told you about the idea of a tour. The board had pitched it to him and Seungcheol just a few weeks before the wedding.

It had all happened so fast, really. One day he was getting engaged and getting signed to be a recording artist for Hybe, in a month he had produced a full length album, and in 3 months he was being offered a tour and picking up his rented tux for his wedding.

He had come through the front door with a burst, causing you to jump from where you sat on the couch watching cartoons. He kicked off his shoes and haphazardly hung his plastic-wrapped suit over the back of the sofa causing you to frown.

“Baby,” he exclaimed. “I’m going on tour!” He watched as you mirrored his grin and reached out to him to hold his hand.

“That’s awesome,” you replied. “When?” 

“In a month,” he replied as he sat down beside you on the couch.

“A month?” you repeated. “But we’re getting married in a month.” Jihoon didn’t miss the way your voice faltered just a little bit behind your smile.

“Don’t worry,” he began. “I’m not scheduled to leave until a week after the wedding, so it’s fine.”

“Yeah, but our honeymoon,” you reminded him. “We were supposed to go to Italy for a week.”

Jihoon rubbed his hand behind his neck. He hadn’t forgotten this detail of course, but he came prepared with a compromise. “Well that’s just it,” he began. “What if you just came with me for a month?”

Your hand slipped out of his before he once again clasped it between his. “Ji… I have work,” you countered back. “I can’t just up and leave for a whole month. Things are finally starting to make progress at the lab and–”

“You can just quit,” Jihoon smiled. “It’s not like you planned to stay there forever, anyway.” He was surprised at the hurt that furrowed its way into your brows.

“I-I like my job, Jihoon,” you stuttered out. “I’m not going to quit to become a roadie.” Jihoon watched as you stood up from the couch and began to pace around the room with your arms crossed. “So suddenly your job is more important than mine?” Jihoon asked defensively.

“What?” You paused to look at him sharply. “That’s not remotely close to anything I just said, and you know it.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I’m sorry, I just got a bit defensive. I thought you’d want to come with me.”

“And I do,” you walked back towards him. “But it’s not that simple.” You let out a sigh and sat back down next to him, pulling your knees to your chest.

“I’ll come see your shows when I can get some time off,” you offered. “And we can call whenever we get the chance. But you have to promise me something.” 

“Anything, baby,” Jihoon looked at you with excitement and relief as you named your terms. “When you’re on that stage, you’re everybody’s Woozi, but when you’re here… just be my Jihoon. Please.” In the moment, Jihoon would have agreed to anything you said, and when out of your mouth came something more cryptic than he had expected, he thought he had gotten off easy. 

But now, with Seungcheol’s judging eyes on him, he felt as though he had missed something important. You were okay with it, right? Why wouldn’t you be? After all he’d done for you since you graduated college, it was only fair that he got to do this, right?

“Okay, your mic is set,” the tech spoke and broke Jihoon out of his thoughts. Jihoon’s anxieties were left behind as he walked on the stage and ran through his set.

This concert was just like all the other ones he’d done in the last 19 cities. The adrenaline surged through his veins as he performed on stage and the thrill of the deafening screams around him reminded him that he was exactly where he needed to be. He beamed at the sea of lights all around, bobbing as the crowd chanted his name. “Woozi, Woozi, Woozi.” This is what he lived for.

When he finally walked off stage, his hair was still dripping with sweat and he was exhausted. Seungcheol handed him a towel to dry his face. “Hit the showers man,” Seungcheol teased. “You could fill a bucket with all that sweat.” Nevertheless, he pat him on his back before walking over to a stagehand to help out.

Jihoon headed back to his dressing room and finally checked his phone, a small smile coming onto his face as he saw you had left him a few messages.

Angel 5:05 p.m. – Hey i know you’re gonna rock everyone’s socks off tonight! Can’t wait to catch the fan cams on tik tok lol

Angel 7:10 p.m. – got called into the lab so i only got to sleep like 2 hours. But apparently some of the cultures have developed something weird so i have to figure out if it’s something legit or if Jun accidentally sneezed on a petri dish again. Go me!

Angel 9:02 p.m. – he sneezed.

Angel 9:03 p.m. – finally home. Can’t wait for you to be back here so I can finally get a good night’s sleep. 

He decided to reply later in case you were finally sleeping. He knew that between your video calls that spanned across multiple time zones and the many emergency calls you’ve had to the lab, you hadn’t been sleeping well. It made him feel a little bit guilty that he was putting you through all this, but he felt happy knowing that you were still trying your best to make things work.

In a perfect world, Jihoon thinks, it would just be him and you and no time zones, no oceans and mountains to separate you. It’s not a perfect world, but it’s fine enough for him. 

Later that night, Jihoon found himself at an afterparty for Seungcheol's friend Jackson Wang in a lounge near the venue. It wasn’t his usual scene, but lately, Seungcheol had been encouraging him to participate in more social activities. Something about it being good for his celebrity image. He preferred to be cooped up in his hotel room with a bowl of instant ramen watching his latest anime, but tonight he found himself hanging alone at the bar with a glass of whiskey instead.

“Jihoon,” Seungcheol slurred. Most people would expect managers to be uptight and rigid, but Seungcheol preferred to take a more “best friend” approach when it came to managing the talent. Most times, Jihoon was grateful to have a friend at his side so often, but not so much when it meant he’d have to help a blacked out Seungcheol find his way back to his hotel room later.

“Drink some water dude,” Jihoon scolded as he flagged down the bartender. Seungcheol obediently drank half of the bottle before sighing in satisfaction.

“You’re supposed to be having fun,” Seungcheol said. “What kind of celebrity stands at the bar brooding menacingly instead of dancing to his own song?”

Jihoon let out a sigh. “I guess you have a point,” he admitted. Now Seungcheol had asked for two shots of vodka before Jihoon could stop him. “Slow down a bit, Cheol.”

“These are for you,” Seungcheol passed him the shot glasses. Jihoon laughed and shook his head but complied and took the shots anyway. He felt the warmth of the alcohol down his throat and his cheeks got hot. He downed the rest of his glass of whiskey as well before letting Seungcheol lead him over to a table right at the edge of the dance floor. He immediately felt a haze settle in his mind, an effect of the alcohol.

At the table were a few faces he recognized from around the company. Jihyo, whose album he’d been working to help produce in his free time, and Hoshi and Seungkwan, two other artists from the company. He’d spent time with Jihyo and Seungkwan a handful of times, but had only ever said hi to Soonyoung in passing. “Everyone, you know Woozi,” Seungcheol introduced.

“Um, you guys can just call me Jihoon,” he added with a small wave. “Nice to see you all again, but uh, why are you guys all here in Italy too?”

“Me and Seungkwan are promoting a collab here,” Jihyo explained.

“And I’m here for fashion week,” Hoshi replied before clapping Jihoon on the back. “Call me Soonyoung, Let’s be best friends.” Jihoon let out a chuckle as he helped to steady him. He was very clearly far gone.

Seungkwan pulled Soonyoung off of Jihoon with a scoff. “Don’t hang out with him,” Seungkwan put Soonyoung’s arm around his neck to lead him away from the group. “He’s a terrible influence and a bit of a furry.” 

Soonyoung’s face contorted into a pout as he pushed Seungkwan away. “I’m a fun-fluence,” he corrected. “And I am fun-fluencing you to dance with us.” He immediately grabbed Jihoon and Seungcheol by the arm to lead them both to the center of the dance floor. Jihyo and Seungkwan followed close behind. Given how drunk Soonyoung seemed to be, his dance moves gave no hint that he was inebriated.

Jihoon felt himself bobbing up and down to the music, lost in his thoughts, until Jihyo’s voice interrupted them. He smiled politely at her as she handed him a drink, similar to the one she was brandishing. “Drink?” She asked with a smile as he took it from her.

“Thanks,” he called over the loud music as he took a sip of the drink. The two of them stood next to each other, watching Soonyoung tear up the dance floor for a beat before either of them spoke again. 

“He’s amazing isn’t he?” Jihyo spoke loudly.

“Yeah,” Jihoon agreed. “I see why they call him the dancing tiger now.”

Jihyo laughed loudly as Jihoon turned to look at her in confusion. She shoved him playfully as he continued to look at her in confusion. “You’re serious?” She asked incredulously as he nodded back. “Soonyoung is the only one who calls Soonyoung the dancing tiger. So sad he got the new guy in on it.”

Jihoon shook his head in embarrassment before Jihyo put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright though,” she beamed. “You’ve got me to protect you from the Hybe shenanigans now.”  

“Glad to have you,” he replied.

When Jihoon woke up the next morning to the sound of his phone ringing, he felt his head throb. A groan came from the floor and Jihoon rolled over to spot Seungcheol passed out on the floor with a pillow over his head. How either of them made it back to the room, Jihoon only had a fuzzy recollection of.

He reached blindly for his phone on the night stand, squinting at the brightness to read your name on the screen. He ran his hand over his face and cleared his throat in an attempt to make himself sound more normal and not like he was stuck in between drunk and hungover at 2 pm on a Thursday.

“Hello?” you spoke as Jihoon answered the call. You were in the bathroom of your apartment getting ready for bed and Jihoon smiled at the sight of you with the fuzzy pink headband he got you brushing your teeth.

“Hey baby,” Jihoon cooed.

You paused from brushing your teeth to look at him through the phone with a frown. “Had fun last night?” 

Jihoon nodded in reply. “Yeah,” he answered. “Some of the other Hybe people were there too, so it was a lot of fun. I think our stops line up for the next few, so we’ll probably hang out again.”

You hummed in response. Jihoon expected you to be excited that he had made friends as you had always chastised him for being somewhat of an introvert. Instead, you simply asked, “Did you get to the hotel safe?”

Jihoon nodded again. “Yeah,” he assured you. “Don’t know what time I got back, but I remember the sun was coming up. Seungcheol’s passed out on the floor.” Seungcheol let out a loud groan at the mention of his name.

You let out a sigh after spitting into the sink. “I’ll let you get your rest then,” you smiled tightly. “Just wanted to say good morning. Check your text messages when you can. Gotta go.”

Before Jihoon could reply, you had hung up. He wondered why you seemed so upset with him. However, he did as you asked and checked his messages to see you had left… a lot. He focused on the most recent messages. You were indeed mad at him.

Angel 11:00 p.m. - Good morning babe! Running on 2 hours of sleep, but today’s gonna be a good day, I know it. Call me soon!

Angel 11:13 p.m. -  Got impatient and tried to call you instead, but maybe you’re asleep?

Angel 11:13 p.m. - nvm when have you ever slept before midnight? Call me! I have news!

Angel 12:58 a.m. - I guess I’ll just say it here… after this study, they’re promoting me to a head researcher for another lab. I’ll no longer be an et. al.!!!

Angel 1:03 a.m. - come home soon, I can’t wait to celebrate with you!

Angel 2:43 a.m. -  wish you would reply :( I wanna see that cute smile you make when I tell you something good.

Angel 4:02 a.m. - doesn’t it suck when you only get a hold of your husband’s whereabouts from an update account on twitter? Don’t drink too much, dumbass.

Jihoon groaned and dropped his phone onto the bed. He was in trouble.

Taglist:@yksthings @alonelystarfish @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @gummymintae @maverey

[thnxforknowingme]

Christmas Eves (1/21)

Summary: Blaine makes a quick trip to Ohio to see his parents over Christmas. He certainly doesn't expect to run into his ex-boyfriend Kurt, or to reexamine every aspect of his life, but this Christmas Eve is full of surprises.

Rating: Let's say T? G or T.

Notes: I desperately wanted to participate in the December Klaine Fanworks Challenge this year, but have had no time for writing. This weekend I had a dedicated writing session with some friends and managed to complete chapters for 9 of the prompt words, so I think I have the momentum to actually write the whole story. Will it be done by December 21st, or even by Christmas? Almost certainly not. My quasi-reasonable goal is to get it all written and posted by the new year. Anyway, enough of my rambling - I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: Plead

Blaine slept in on Christmas Eve, groggy from travel and still accustomed to Pacific time. He woke up with the winter sun streaming through the window of his former bedroom, long turned into a generic guest room since he moved West for college. His mother had a passion for redecorating, and the room currently had a nautical theme - everything in shades of blue or white, boat motifs abundant, and a sign above the closet door proclaiming that You cannot control the wind, you can only adjust your sail.

He glanced at his phone, the calendar widget reminding him it was Christmas Eve, forecasting Christmas tomorrow and his scheduled flight back to LAX on the 26th. It was a short, perfunctory trip home for the holiday.

There was a knock on the door. “Blaine, honey!” His mother called. “Are you up yet? I need to run out for a few things, I’d love if you came along!”

Blaine dropped his phone onto the bedspread and squeezed his eyes shut, little starbursts appearing behind his eyelids.

“Just a minute!” he replied, and then rolled out of bed.

.

“Oh, this is nice,” Pam said, pausing by a display of velvety bathrobes in the department store they were exiting the mall through. “But I’ve already gotten you something cozy.”

Blaine resisted the urge to squeeze the cup of to-go coffee in his hand. His mother’s quick errands had turned into a trip to the mall, which was complete chaos as desperate shoppers searched for last-minute gifts and bedraggled parents lined up for hours to get their kids’ photos with Santa. Blaine was already nursing a headache and his mother’s words set off his internal alarm bells. “Please tell me you didn’t get me pajamas,” he said.

“It’s a tradition,” she replied simply, feeling the lapel on one of the robes and then continuing forward.

“Mom,” Blaine pleaded as they walked outside. “I told you this last year - I don’t need them. I don’t wear pajamas, and flannel is way too warm for Los Angeles anyway.”

His mother paused on the sidewalk curb, turning back to face him with an unconcerned smile. “Darling,” she said, reaching up to cup his cheek, “Let me have this, okay?”

Blaine took a deep breath. Arguing was apparently futile. “Fine,” he muttered, and set off towards the car.

.

Christmas Eve dinner was an elegant affair, but small. The next day they’d make the 40-minute drive to Blaine’s grandparents’ house, where other extended family would congregate, but tonight just he and his parents gathered around the dining table.

After saying grace and passing around dishes and complimenting the food, Blaine’s dad turned to his favorite topic of conversation - the importance of networking.

“Did I tell you my old classmate Andrew is going to be in LA next month?”

“Yes,” Blaine replied, “You copied me on an email to him.”

“Have you reached out to try and set something up? He owns a rental property somewhere out there so he might know someone useful in the industry. And he’d be a good connection for you to cultivate even if he doesn’t know anyone in film, if you were ever interested in changing directions.”

The only direction Blaine felt like going in now was far, far away from this conversation. He put on a polite smile and said, “I’ve been busy with the holidays, but I’ll make sure to reach out once I get back.”

“Good,” his father said. “Andrew was in my fraternity, we lived together my junior year. Have I told you the story about the Michigan game that year?”

Blaine had heard the story multiple times before, but he let his dad tell it again anyway, making sure to laugh and gasp in the right places. He had the wry thought that at least he was getting some acting practice, playing the role of an engaged, doting son.

.

At 10pm, Blaine grabbed his mother’s keys from the hook by the door and drove her car into town, parking outside the Watering Hole.

Blaine had never gone to bars much in Ohio - he’d moved away before he was 21, and had visited infrequently since. Sam had taken him to this place over a Thanksgiving break in college, and it seemed the kind of bar that would still be open on Christmas Eve. He just needed to be out of his childhood home, away from his parents and their expectations for an hour or two.

He went in and found it unexpectedly busy. Not crowded, but far from deserted. He ordered a beer and perched at an open table against one wall, where he could people-watch or stare at the TV behind the bar.

“Excuse me?”

Blaine turned towards the voice, and when he saw the man standing behind him, he felt like he’d taken a punch to the chest. It wasn’t pain so much as shock, the air temporarily knocked out of his lungs as he beheld the older - but definitely very recognizable - form of none other than Kurt Hummel.

[t-nd-rfoot]

SOMETHING MORE aka Another Kind of Friend

If you want something you never had, you have to do something you've never done before.

Pairing Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia x fwb!gn!reader

Theme cliche fluff

Warnings FWB dynamic so mentions of sex but no descriptions; minors DNI

Word Count 509

Note This was actually an exerpt for a fic I had in mind but had no concrete story to lead up to it, so it's a little different than how I usually write things! Also find it kinda funny that this is my second love confession fic with Fanboy, but I love it anyway 😌

Your eyes grew wide at the unexpected visitor.

“Hi,” he huffed, as if he had rushed over here.

“Mickey. Um, hi, yourself,” you replied slowly, glancing back at your friends laughing in the living room, all unsuspecting of the awkwardness building up quickly at your front door.

His eyes grew wide once he realized you weren’t alone. You quietly ushered him out to the hallway for some privacy. “Shit, sorry. I should’ve called first. If I knew you were busy—”

“No, no! It’s fine, actually. Well, I just didn’t—I’m sorry, did we plan something? Did I forget?” you asked, more than confused.

He assured with a chuckle, “you’re good.” But his expression quickly grew serious as he ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “That’s actually not why I’m here.”

Unsure of how to respond, you stayed quiet, allowing him to continue.

“I like you,” he confessed, completely catching you off-guard. “And before you ask, no, I don’t like you just because we’re sleeping together. Don’t get me wrong, okay? The past few months have been fun and all, but I—I want to have fun with you outside the bedroom too.”

As serious as he was being, you couldn’t help let out a small giggle. Only then did his eyes grow wide at the accidental innuendo.

“Ah, fuck—sorry, I didn’t—I mean—” Mickey stuttered, though he couldn’t help but laugh along with you.

The laughter died down a few moments later before he sobered himself and locked eyes with yours.

“What I meant,” he continued in that soft voice you could never resist, “was that I want to be able to call you and actually talk to you. I want to be able to spend time with you and not leave when things get too personal. I want to be able to kiss you’ll let me, not just when we’re hooking up.”

Neither of you realized the distance between you closed until he was holding your waist and pressing his forehead on yours.

“I want to be yours.”

Nothing could contain the warmth you felt all over, and it pulled you to press your lips to his. You’ve kissed him many times before, but none of them ever felt like this.

So this is what it feels like to mean something to someone.

You pulled away slowly but unable to hide the smile on your face, “I want all of that, too.”

Just as he was about to lean in again, shrieks of laughter from inside brought the two you back down to earth.

“I guess that’s my cue,” you said sheepishly.

“It’s alright,” Mickey assured you. He made his way down the hall before turning back to you, “It’s not like we won’t be seeing each other again.”

“Call me tonight?” you asked.

Just as the elevator doors closed, he grinned back at you, “and every night!”

And this time, he meant it.

Tag List @bonitanightmxres @avaleineandafryingpan @bradshawseresinbabe @hangmanbrainrot @babyonboardfloyd @demxters @footprintsinthesxnd

Add yourself to my tag list!

Disclaimer I do not own Top Gun: Maverick or any of its characters. Please do not copy my work or translate without my permission.

[writeforfandoms]

Starbound

Find my CoD masterlist

Okay this was just a fun little thing to try my hand at something new! 

141 gets sent on an op to the middle of the jungle, tracking down information on Makarov. But this op involves more than they bargained for. Much more. 

Warnings: Violence, canon-typical violence, gore, body horror, dead bodies, cat and mouse, monster horror, language. 

Some GhostSoap if you squint. 

Word count: 3.3k

Soap kind of hated jungles. They were notoriously hot and sticky, only ever made more awful by the gear they all carried, and they were rarely silent. 

In his experience, getting out to the target and getting back from the target were equally gross. 

"Half a kilometer to go," Price murmured through the comms, low and even. Steady as always. 

"Copy," Soap muttered, keeping his own irritation to himself. 

"Ghost, Soap, you'll go first. Gaz and I will circle around." 

"Rog." Ghost shifted his trajectory and Soap followed, easy as anything. They knew they worked well together, and neither of them bothered fighting it. 

Soap swallowed against the sticky heat of the air, attempting to ignore the insects buzzing around them. Not much further, he reminded himself. 

Ghost held up one hand for a halt, and Soap waited patiently while Ghost checked the area. 

"What’ve you got, LT?" Soap kept his voice low, resisting the urge to lean around Ghost to look for himself. 

"No movement," Ghost grunted back. "One sentry, looks like he's asleep on the job." 

"Makes our lives easier," Soap murmured. 

Ghost didn't reply, but he didn't have to. He advanced quietly, Soap following him. 

The compound they were infiltrating was not huge, but it was supposed to have information on Russian movements and weapons purchases. Laswell had deemed it too important to potentially mess up, sending all four of them in. 

Personally, Soap thought it was overkill. But he wasn't the boss. 

Being in the middle of the jungle, the compound didn't even have a proper wall, just a guard tower. Ghost was up the ladder almost too fast for Soap to appreciate the sight (not that Soap was paying attention to his arse or anything). Soap kept low, waiting for the go ahead. 

Which never came. 

"We've got a problem," Ghost growled instead. 

"How bad?" Price asked. 

"Guard's already dead. Mauled."

"Mauled?" Gaz asked, horrified curiosity barely suppressed. 

"Looks like a fuckin' tiger, but he's still up in the tower." Ghost sounded displeased. Not that Soap blamed him. That was not a good sign. 

"Proceed with caution," Price decided. "Keep me updated, and keep your eyes open." 

"Solid copy." Ghost slid back down the ladder, eyes tight under the mask. He motioned Soap on, and Soap transitioned to lead, creeping forward. 

The compound was silent. Not quiet. Silent. There was no sound around them, no idle chatter, no footsteps. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he swallowed hard. 

The first body Soap found was mauled, innards spilling from long gashes, one arm clearly gnawed on. The other hand still clutched a pistol. Fat lot of good that had done the poor bastard. 

"Found another body, sir. Mauled." Soap stepped past it, checking the ground for any signs of what had attacked him. 

But there was nothing. 

Price swore softly. "Get the intel and get out," he ordered. "Quietly." 

"Rog." Soap picked up the pace a little. But the closer they traveled to the center of the camp, the thicker the scent of iron grew until the air was cloying with it. 

One last corner and Soap stopped. The ground ahead of him was slick, blood turning the dirt thick and mucky. Bodies lay strewn across the ground surrounding the central building, some of them in multiple pieces. The one nearest Soap still had his mouth open in a silent scream, but half his face was gone. 

"Found the rest of them." Soap's voice was a little hoarse. 

"Fuckin' hell," Ghost breathed out behind him. 

"Sitrep?" Price kept the request terse. 

"Looks like the rest of the camp is here." Soap let his gaze drift over the bodies, absently noting injuries. "It's a fuckin' bloodbath, sir. Looks like a wild animal tore through 'em, but I've never seen an animal attack like this." 

Price was silent for a few long seconds. "Can you safely get the intel? Any sign of what did this?"

"No sign of it," Soap answered first, eyeing the distance between him and the door. "I can make it, sir." 

"Quietly," Price emphasized. "You see any trouble, you get out." 

"Copy." Soap glanced back at Ghost. Ghost nodded once, shifting to better be able to cover Soap's back. One deep breath and Soap moved, stepping over and around bodies, his boots squelching through the muck. 

He wrenched the door open, bringing his rifle up to check around the door. Nothing. No bodies inside, either. 

He crossed the room carefully, but nothing popped out at him. He was quick to rifle through the desk, grabbing anything that looked useful and tucking it all away in his vest. 

He got three steps towards the door before there was a roar, deep and rumbling. The very air shivered. Soap froze for a moment and then booked it, running straight to the door. Ghost jerked his head, beckoning him over, gun up. 

Soap made it over to Ghost before there was another roar, this one louder. 

"Move up," Ghost barked, pushing Soap up first. Soap moved fast, giving up silence for getting the fuck out. 

They were almost out, the guard tower in sight, when something hit the tower. Something big. Very big. Mottled green and brown, the… thing blended into the jungle, nearly camouflaging the guard tower. It looked a bit like a cat, if a cat was fucking enormous and had spines on its tail. A mouth opened, showing off very big, very long teeth. This close, the roar shook the ground. 

"Fuck!" Ghost fired at it first, recovering a fraction faster than Soap. 

But the bullets didn't seem to do anything. The creature shook off the shots as if they were bug bites, body rippling. Soap couldn't quite hide his horror at that, even as luminescent yellow eyes fixed on him. 

"Johnny MOVE!" Ghost fired off a few more shots, apparently hoping to distract it. 

Soap ran. He could hear Ghost behind him, both of them heading for the jungle in hopes of losing the thing. 

"Grenade!" Ghost called, and Soap swore softly. The boom rattled the ground, but both men kept their feet under them. The thing behind them screeched, an awful high-pitched sound that made Soap stagger briefly. A hand caught the back of his vest, shoving him upright and forward. 

"This way," Ghost grunted, throwing himself to one side and half-dragging Soap along with until Soap course corrected. The two crashed through some underbrush, putting some trees and visible blocks between them and the creature. 

And stumbled straight into four men, all filthy and wide-eyed and shaking. One of the men had a rifle, which he had lifted, but he didn't shoot. 

For a tense moment, nobody moved. Soap did the math - he and Ghost would win this fight, no problem. 

And then one of the men started screaming, looking behind Soap and Ghost. Moving on instinct, Soap threw himself to the side. 

A massive paw landed where he had been a second before, bloody claws out and leaving gouges in the dirt. The creature roared, hackles up, teeth on full display, tail lashing side to side. 

Soap didn't even see the tail coming until something slammed into him like a wrecking ball, sending him to the ground, gasping. Vaguely over the thrumming in his ears he heard a shout of his name. 

And then nothing but roaring. 

–

The first roar jerked both Gaz and Price to a pause, heads turning the same direction. It was fainter, probably on the far side of the camp. 

But not a good sign.

“Hold here,” Price murmured, jaw tight as he tried to spot whatever had made that noise. 

From their vantage point, Gaz could mostly see the camp. At least the outside layer of it. But not the bloodbath Soap had mentioned. For it to make Soap sound like that, it had to be bad. 

The second roar was louder, angrier. Price moved, Gaz falling in after him. Gunfire prompted Price into a run, and Gaz grimaced. That was not a good sign. 

“Soap, Ghost,” Price barked when the gunfire stopped. But there was only silence. “How copy?” 

Gaz swallowed back the cold dread, focusing instead on listening for hints. Soap and Ghost would be fine, they were too damn capable to die out here. But he’d feel better if they had more backup. 

Price paused, frustration in the curl of his fingers around his weapon. He scanned the jungle around them, waiting. 

Screaming made for a good waypoint, and they both sprinted towards it. 

And arrived just in time to see a barbed tail vanishing into the jungle again. Three dead unknowns lay on the ground, blood still spilling from their wounds. Ghost was swearing as he struggled to his feet, bleeding from a gash in his thigh. Gaz got to his side first, helping him steady.

“What the fuck happened?” Price asked, looking around.

“It took Johnny,” Ghost growled, low and vicious, angry in a way Gaz rarely heard. “Knocked him flat and carried him away. He’s still alive.”

Price breathed out hard once, gaze darting after the thing. “What do you know about it?”

“Not much,” Ghost admitted, holding still as Gaz got to work cleaning and wrapping his thigh. Fortunately it wasn’t deep - although once they got back to base Gaz had a feeling Ghost would be on some pretty intense antibiotics. “Shook off bullets like they were just flies. It’s big. Strong. Quiet.” He paused, hands clenching. “Didn’t see a scratch on it.”

Price nodded, absorbing that, taking a few moments to plan while Gaz worked. “We’ll track it,” he decided. “See if we can find Johnny, he’s our first priority. If you have a shot, aim for the eyes or the mouth, that might give it pause.” 

“Copy,” Ghost grunted. Gaz took a step back, nodding once. 

“How’s that feel?”

“Good enough,” Ghost grumbled, clearly antsy to get going. 

Price gave him a hard look but then nodded. “On me, then,” he agreed. He started through the jungle, following the signs the creature had left - scoring against tree trunks, bent and broken foliage, paw prints in places. Gaz fell to the back, half to keep an eye on Ghost and make sure his thigh wasn’t a problem (Ghost occasionally downplayed his own injuries) and half because he sure as hell didn’t want to get between Ghost and the thing that got Soap. 

If Ghost didn’t kill the thing, Gaz would be amazed. Ghost was just a little protective of his people. 

Of course, so was Price. So was he, come to think of it.

The trail led them away from the compound, not the correct direction for their exfil point. Gaz kept a close eye on their direction and distance. He knew Price likely was keeping track as well, but, well.

Just in case.

Price paused, and Gaz stepped up to see what had caught his attention. And then blinked.

“Is that what we’re hunting?” he asked, a little faint. The thing was at least the size of a jaguar, although denser, with a barbed tail and tufted ears. The coloration was all wrong too - green and brown, not unlike a weird discolored tiger. 

“Too small,” Ghost said, voice tight. “This is probably a youngster.”

A youngster? There were more of these things? Gaz swallowed hard. 

“Well. Guess we know why it’s on a rampage.” Price nodded to the bullet holes in the youngster’s side. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Ghost rocked forward, scanning the surrounding area again. 

Price grunted his agreement and started forward again. Gaz took one last look at the creature before following. 

It wasn’t part of their mission, wasn’t anything even really important, but he couldn’t help wondering where the fuck these things came from in the first place. 

–

Soap groaned softly as he woke, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. He ached, a dull throbbing all over, but especially his left leg. Attempting to flex that leg caused him to clench his jaw tight to hold back a pained sound. 

Alright, that was a little fucked. What else?

He lifted his head slowly, looking around. Rocks rose around him, a thick tree trunk making a sort of wall, the dirt under him cool and dry. Someone else was laying a few feet away, one of the men he and Ghost had run into.

But this was very definitely not where he’d been last.

Alright. He could deal with this. 

Sitting up was probably not his best idea, based on the way his ribs were protesting, but, well… Hard to defend yourself laying down. His vest was still intact, his rifle lost somewhere, but he still had a pistol on him. And grenades. 

He could work with this.

Breathing carefully, Soap looked down at the rest of him.

Well. His shin was definitely not supposed to look like that. No wonder trying to move had been a bad idea. 

Grimacing, he looked around. Would be great if he could find something to help him to his feet (foot). The other poor bastard stuck out here wasn’t moving, and Soap wasn’t sure if he was even still alive. 

Soft growls caught his attention, and he looked around. Two more of the cat monster things were approaching, one of them hopping up on top of a rock. Both of them were notably smaller than the one he and Ghost had faced, maybe half the size. 

Cubs. Kittens? What the fuck ever. 

“Steamin’ Jesus,” he grumbled, watching them carefully. He clicked the safety off, watching the two cat-things. The one on the rock stayed perched there, tail slowly swishing side to side, while the other one approached the prone man first. With a silent apology to the man, Soap slowly lifted his pistol. Hopefully these ones weren’t bullet proof, or he’d been in a load of trouble.

Not that he intended to get eaten by some wee beasties. (Nevermind the fact that said beasties were almost as long as he was tall.) 

The cats didn’t seem to understand that he was dangerous at all, because they didn’t react to him moving. That was an unexpected bit of luck. 

Soap steadied his breathing, biding his time. Wait until he had a clear shot. He’d have to move fast for this to work. 

Assuming bullets worked on these smaller ones. If they didn’t… Well. He’d figure out another plan. 

The first cat-thing batted at the prone man, playing with him. Soap swallowed. Almost there. The one on the rock was still waiting, apparently content to watch for now. 

The cat moved, and Soap lined up the shot. Four shots in quick succession. The spray of blood and brain was a relief, and the cat went down. 

That still left the other one.

That cat yowled, crouching, muscles bunching before it leapt. Soap twisted, ignoring the screaming in his ribs, and emptied the rest of the clip into the cat. 

But that didn’t stop its trajectory. 

“Oh fu–” Soap dropped the pistol, bringing his arms up to protect his head as the body collided with him. 

–

All three men stopped at the first round of gunshots, Ghost tracking the sound and taking off before Price could tell him not to. Gaz huffed softly and sped up, scanning the area. The second set of gunshots made Price swear very quietly. 

If that had been Soap, it was very unlike him. 

Despite his injury, Ghost arrived first, sweeping the area. Gaz briefly clocked the two dead cat-things, more youngsters, before he noted the familiar pair of legs sticking out from under one of the corpses. 

“Captain!”

Price grunted, moving to one end of the cat. “Carefully, Sergeant,” he rumbled. Together, they lifted the body off of Soap and dumped it to the side.

Soap groaned, eyelashes fluttering, remaining flattened to the ground. 

“Johnny.” Ghost knelt next to him, leaning over him. Gaz had half a mind to scold him for it, but, well… He’d let it slide this time.

“Simon.” Soap blinked slowly. “Dinnae tell me. Not dead?”

“Not yet.” 

“Well. Cheers.” Soap closed his eyes again, lifting one hand to hover protectively over his ribs. “Wee beastie might’a actually broken a rib. Or two.” 

Gaz knelt on Soap’s other side, hissing out a low breath at the sight of his leg. That was going to make exfil harder. He glanced up at Price, who simply nodded once, grim. 

“Soap,” Gaz started, leaning in closer. “Need to brace your leg, mate. It’s gonna hurt.” 

“Aye, get on with it.” Soap closed his eyes again, focusing on his breathing. 

Gaz hated this part of the job. Hated the feel of bone sliding under skin, back in place enough to be braced for exfil. Hated the muffled shout, the tension ratcheting tighter from all of them. 

“Done,” Gaz said, leaning back. It was definitely only a makeshift brace, but it would do for now. “Can’t do anything for the ribs.”

“Right.” Soap breathed in carefully. “Are we buggin’ out yet?” 

“Yes.” Price answered before the other two could. “We are getting to exfil immediately.” 

Gaz stood and together he and Price helped Soap to his feet, holding him steady when he swayed a little. Ghost planted himself next to Soap, and Gaz exchanged a look with his captain. 

Well. They were both injured, but they were also apparently determined to keep together. Fine. Ghost was well enough to keep Soap upright, at least. 

A quick weapons check on all fronts (and a replacement mag for Soap’s pistol) and then they were off, leaving the bodies of the two cat-things and one unknown behind. It was slow going, but none of them said a single thing. Gaz brought up the rear, and that was fine with him. He could keep an eye on Soap and Ghost this way, make sure nothing else happened to the two of them. 

The jungle around them was quiet, air thick and muggy. They didn’t have to worry about pursuit by hostile people, at least. Gaz glanced back behind them, searching for any signs of the cat-monster. 

So of course it got in front of them, dropping down out of a tree nearly on top of Price. Gaz lifted his rifle, aiming for the eyes, jaw clenched as Price rolled away from the thing. It yowled, head rearing back and then shaking, giving Price time to get back to his feet and rejoin the group. 

“Good shot,” Ghost grunted, aiming for the open mouth. 

“Got an idea,” Soap said, voice strained. But he still pulled a grenade from his vest, lips tight as he waited. 

Gaz swallowed when the cat thing faced them again, blood pouring from one eye and matting the fur. It roared, teeth fully on display, tail lashing. 

And Soap threw the grenade. 

“Shit–” Gaz barely had time to grab Soap, Ghost helping, before the lot of them were on the ground. The grenade exploded, the sound barely muffled, immediately followed by wet thumps and splats. Gaz waited until it stopped to lift his head. The cat monster was definitely dead, most of its head gone. 

Well. Gone as in splattered all over everything, including the four of them. 

Price groaned softly as he stood. “A little warning next time, yeah?” he huffed at Soap, though he readily reached down to help the sergeant to his feet. 

“Worked, didn’ it?” Soap was grinning like the lunatic he was, eyes still tight with pain. 

“Let’s get to exfil,” Price sighed, not letting go until Ghost was up and Soap was braced. “Before this fuckin’ jungle throws anything else at us.” 

By the time they made it, Gaz wasn’t sure any of them had ever been more glad to see the helo.

[ripnevillestrevor]

our fortress— chapter five

paring: jake sully × "reader/oc" x neytiri

summary: i rest my head on the warm bare skin of her breast, while she gently nestles me under her body. love cocoon, i think sweetly...

warnings: my worst chapter, my bad writing, mentions of spears and arrows, fluff, enemies to lovers beginning to show (i think), not proofread, LOWERCASE INTENDED

word count: 1,567

note: i don't really like this chapter 😭 but it's gonna get better promise! also, i'm probably going to switch between ney'ite and jake's pov just bc if i do it all in ney'ite's pov, the story's gonna be pretty short, so yeah. bare with me! i write mostly about scenarios going to happen in my dr (haven't shifted yet), if you think it's weird, please either keep it to yourself or message me in private, there are actually people that like this type of content and i'm writing for them. btw comments/requests are open! this is also posted on ao3 under the same name, if you see this anywhere else. please tell me :)

important: i do not allow my work to be copied, republished, translated, or reproduced. please do not use this story on wattpad or on other platforms. respect the author's work <33

we stop and turn around to see him falling off several branches before finally landing on level ground. as we turn towards him, shocked, before running back to him as he grabs the rope capturing his feet. we all look to the sound of hooves on the forest floor as a group of our clans finest warriors ride out on pa'li. 

  the man stands, shocked, before pulling out a knife and sharply turning around but the warrior's surround and clammer around him with arrows, prepared to strike at any movement. 

  he turns around once more but other warriors blocks his path on their direhorses. he holds his hands up in that 'i don't mean harm symbol but i don't think he actually means it because the time that neytiri and i make our way down to where they are, he laughs sarcastically, sighing an, "okay."

  neytiri and i jump off a branch onto where the na'vi are surrounding the man, neytiri shouting out a loud, “mawey, na'viya! mawey!” which translates to, ‘calm people. calm.’

  tsu'tey finally comes into view, disconnecting his tsaheylu from his pali before starting to walk to us. neytiri meets him halfway with a, "what are you doing tsu'tey?" 

  "these demons are forbidden here." tsu'tey speaks. 

  "there has been a sign," i finally speak up. "this is a matter for the tsahlik."

  tsu'tey looks to me before grunting, annoyed, he never could resist my asks. 

  he looks to the man then back to me before turning back to his pali and speaking, "bring him," to his other warriors. as the others start to surround the dreamwalker, "what's going on?" he asks as tsu'tey connects his tsaheylu back to his pali and galloping away.

  "wait," he speaks before being shoved along behind tsu'tey, "what's happening?" he now urgently asks us. neytiri and i don't reply as we interlock our hands and follow behind the warriors. 

  tsu'tey’s warriors on pali's ride in front of us and when we finally get close to hometree, they lift their spears and let out war cry's that i presume are for the other na'vi in the clan be alerted to their presence. we cut passed the warriors and the man to be in front of them as the rest of the clan spreads a path to let us pass. 

  i can tell by the rest of the clan's body language that they're on edge but curious about the man's role and why we were bringing him into our (like second) most sacred place.

  neytiri and i walk powerfully in front, leading the man to the front of the spiral stairs leading up to different levels in hometree. neytiri lets go of my hand and turns towards the man in order to harshly grab his bicep. eytukan looks up from where he was conversing with another na'vi just in time to see neytiri walk the man up to him. "father..." she speaks.

  "i see you," she says, gesturing her two pointer and middle finger to her head in a affectionate greeting. "eytukan, i see you," i do the same while walking up to stand beside neytiri, i'll admit it, i certainly haven't connected with eytukan as much of a father figure as i have with mo'at as a mother figure. but i was still expected to be respectful, especially to the leader of the clan i was residing in, much less the father of the woman i was mated with. 

  eytukan walks down and walks up to the dreamwalker, daring his eyes to challenge the other man’s, though the only 'greeting' the man does is nod his head to eytukan. 

  "this creature..." he finally speaks in na'vi making his way back to stand in front of neytiri and i, "why do you bring him here?"

  "i was going to kill him..." she spoke, holding a hand to her stomach, "but there was a sign from eywa," she continues. 

  "i have said..." eytukan contradicts, "no dreamwalker will come here."

  "what's he saying?" the man pipes up, as eytukan speaks, "his alien smell fills my nose." 

  "hey, what's he saying?" the man asks again, i turn my head slightly before speaking, "our father is deciding whether to kill you."

  "your father. it's nice to meet you sir," the man observes before moving to hold out his hand in a greeting before a bunch of warriors surround him and tsu'tey walks forward in a threatening manner, baring his fangs.

  i hiss, barring my fangs as well before harshly pushing him back into the arms of surrounding warriors. "step back!" neytiri and i sharply look to the stairs in which our mother is walking down, "i will look at this alien."

  "that is mother," neytiri says, looking down, i follow her lead as mo'at walks, observing the man. neytiri continues, "she is tsahlik. the one who interprets the way of eywa."

  "who's eywa?" the man looks over to us as mo'at continues to make a full circle around him, lightly brushing his shoulder, grabbing his braid and inspecting it, and grabbing his tail. 

  "what are you called?" she speaks, deep and powerful meaning to such simple words.

  "jake sully."

  mo'at takes the freshly sharpened knife from her holder, sitting on her chest before striking the man's chest. she takes the knife and slides it across her tongue. 

  "why do you come to us?" she asks. 

  "i came to learn," the man-- jake sully responds. 

  putting her knife back into the holder hanging around her neck, she says, "we have tried to teach other sky people."

  "it is hard to fill a cup in which is already full."

  "well, my cup is empty, trust me." he smirks, "just ask dr augustine. i'm no scientist." 

  "what are you?"

  jake licks his lips before speaking, "i was a marine. a..." he pauses before continuing, "a warrior of the jarhead clan."

  "a warrior!" we hear, turning towards tsu'tey as he begins to run forward, "i could kill him easily!" eytukan holds a hand to his chest in a motion that's holding his back from charging. 

  "no!" mo'at speaks.

  "this is the first warrior dreamwalker... we have seen," eytukan speaks to the whole clan. 

  "we need to learn more about him," i notice tsu'tey's ears flip back and side-eye eytukan from where he's standing beside him.

  "my daughters..." mo'at comes to us speaking, "you will teach him our way..." neytiri hisses loudly before mo'at continues, "to speak and walk as we do." 

  i get flashbacks to the first time i met mo'at and neytiri speaks the exact same words as that day, "why me? that's not fair..." mo'at holds up a halting hand, neytiri hissing and stomping a foot in petulance. i smile at her as a form of reassurance, her eyes lighting up just a little bit. 

  "it is decided. my daughters will teach you our ways," mo'at walks up to the man, "learn well jakesully."

  "then we will see if your insanity can be cured." 

the clan is chattering along as we make our way up hometree's steps to the level in which we eat on; neytiri and i walk confidently through the heaps of na'vi crouched down. as we enter, the talking starts to die down as this jakesully follows behind us. 

  "good evening," he speaks, "please don't get up," he says while waving his hand and  walking towards where neytiri and i our standing, along the way, stepping on a few tails. neytiri pushes on his arm when he's near, pushing him further until he's squatting on the ground. 

  i watch as neytiri walks forward to grab our food, when i turn my head i see jake conversating with a na'vi man beside him. 

  "hey, how you doing?" he asks, the little girl beside him, presumably his daughter starts to hold her hand out to touch him, with a smile on her face, her father pushes her back, speaking a warning out to the girl in na'vi. 

  i tune out just in time to see neytiri walk back with heaps of food wrapped in leaves, she squats, handing one to me and one to the man, "thank you," he says. at least he knows manners.

  "you know, i don't even know your names," he speaks, directing to us. 

  "neytiri te ckaha mo'at’ite," neytiri talks fast, i smile as i remember the day she said those exact same words to me.

  the man chuckles nervously, "again, a whole lot slower?" he then looks to me, "what about you?"

  "ney'ite," i speak. 

  "neytiri," she says slower.

  "neytili, neytie," he tries.

  "neytiri," she pronounces slowly, "ney'ite.." she says again. 

  "neytiri, ney'ite," he says slowly, "it's nice to meet you neytiri and ney'ite." 

  "it's nice..."

neytiri and i walk along the big branches holding our hammocks up, neytiri jumps down into our hammock and holds her hand out for me, i slide down into the hammock, starting to settle down into neytiri arms. 

  i slightly open my eyes to see jake jump in the hammock next to us, he turns to us with his head on his elbow, i feel neytiri flip us over so that she can brush the strings of the hammock with her light feathery touch, turning us away from the man. 

  i rest my head on the warm bare skin of her breast, while she gently nestles me under her body. love cocoon, i think sweetly...

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