#trying to grow and just faltering every time
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burningembers91 · 3 days ago
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Seeking Attention - Hong Woo-Jin x Fem!Reader
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Synopsis: Hong Woo-Jin has a thing for the new Pilates instructor at the gym. But as someone who’s been left broken hearted one too many times, you’re going to make the cocky boxer work for your attention.
Hong Woo-Jin had always been a cocky bastard. He’d always been confident, and loud, the life and soul of the party. He constantly went out of his way to make people laugh, and it was forever getting him in trouble. Throughout school he’d been in detention more times than he could count, and as an adult his brash attitude had gotten him into hot water many times. But Woo-Jin couldn’t help it; he felt like he needed to be loud; being loud was better than being quiet and alone with his thoughts.
He’d always struggled with self-worth, never quite feeling good enough for the people around him. No matter what he did, he was a constant source of disappointment to his father. Growing up, he’d started to act out as a way of getting attention from the man he looked up to most. He knew it wasn’t clever, knew the plan was doomed to fail, but he was so desperate for acknowledgment from his father, no matter how much trouble he had to get in to receive it. The loudmouth troublemaker persona had stuck with him, and Woo-Jin didn’t know how to snap out of it. Every time he felt himself falter, every time he felt his self-worth slip, he’d crack a joke and pull some crazy stunt to convince himself he was doing just fine.
But sometimes the only thing that could halt the voice in his head was boxing. He’d started boxing as a child, another way he desperately sought the affection of his father. He had a natural talent, and although it still wasn’t enough to please the man who had raised him, Woo-Jin was hooked. Every spare second he had was spent at the gym, honing and crafting his skills. He won every fight, had medals and trophies adoring his walls and shelving, but it still wasn’t enough for his dad. He craved love and affection, but had never quite managed to find it.
He’d never had a problem with women, always able to get a date, but never quite able to get them to stick around. Woo-Jin told himself he was happy to live life as a bachelor, but his nights were so lonely.
When you joined as instructor at the Pilates studio across the hall from his boxing gym, Woo-Jin was determined to win you over. But you were unlike anyone he’d met before. You didn’t fall for his cheesy chat up lines, didn’t giggle at his jokes. You’d roll your eyes and sigh, and try your best to hide your smile.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like Woo-Jin, but you’d been burned one too many times, and you didn’t want to open yourself up to the inevitable heartbreak you knew would come.
Your classes coincided with his training, and the two of you interacted most days. You were funny, smart, witty and beautiful, and Woo-Jin so badly wanted the chance to make you happy. But you were a tough nut to crack, the one woman who seemed able to resist his charm. He wondered if he was losing his touch.
“What do you reckons tougher?” He asked one day, in a last ditch attempt to impress you. “Boxing, or Pilates?”
You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Pilates. Definitely Pilates.”
“Oh yeah?” Woo-Jin took a swig of his water bottle, his bare chest and torso glistening with sweat. You purposely avoided looking, not willing to admit to yourself how good he looked.
“Do you think I’d be any good?” He smiled, flexing his biceps.
“Well, if you sign up for my class and pay the entry fee, we’ll see,” you winked, before heading outside to your car.
You came in the next day to find Woo-Jin’s name on your next class sign up sheet, the entry fee pushed under the studio door. This man was unrelenting, but you felt your stomach flip.
If Woo-Jin was so desperate to impress you, you’d make him work for it.
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loganbcrnes · 3 days ago
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Blooming Embarrassment
Logan Howlett x fem!reader x Victor Creed
no warnings. just fluff
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The Xavier Institute was a place of peace and healing, or at least that’s what everyone kept telling you. The walls were sturdy, the beds comfortable, the food edible—most of the time. It was supposed to be a refuge for mutants like yourself, a safe haven after the nightmare endured at the hands of an anti-mutant organization. Yet, for all the safety it promised, it had presented an entirely new problem: Victor Creed and Logan Howlett. It wasn’t fair for two men to look that good. Victor was tall, broad, with a sharp grin that promised nothing but trouble. Logan, the same height, carried the same raw presence. The way they moved, all lethal confidence, had your heart beating wildly every time you caught sight of them. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing happening. Flowers. From your feet. Your powers were mostly useful—controlling animals, growing plants—but when flustered, they took on a life of their own. The moment nervousness, shyness, or embarrassment struck, flowers sprouted beneath you like a fairytale curse. Which was why speaking to either of them had been successfully avoided. Until today.
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Heading to the kitchen for a late-night snack, you see him. Victor Creed, standing in the hallway, arms crossed, watching your approach with something that resembled mild interest. Shit. Turning back would make it obvious you were avoiding him. Instead, you take a deep breath and keep walking. Maybe if you just keep your head down— “Hey.” Oh no. Glancing up, you meet his amused golden eyes. “Uh. Hi.” Victor tilts his head, examining you like a puzzle he’s trying to solve. “You’re new.” “Been here a while,” you mumble. “Just… quiet.” “That so?” He takes a lazy step toward you, predatory by nature, even when he isn’t trying to be. “Figured you were a ghost or somethin’. Always see ya walkin’ by, but never hear a peep.” The size difference feels overwhelming. “I just… keep to myself.” He smirks, about to say something else—when it happens. Flowers. Right at your feet. Bright pink peonies bloom in an instant, curling around your ankles, vibrant against the dull hallway floor. Victor’s smirk falters as he glances down, then back up at your face. “What the hell?” “Nothing!” you squeak, before promptly turning and fleeing in the opposite direction.
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An afternoon in the mansion’s living room should be relaxing. Ororo sits beside you on the couch, flipping through a book, while Kurt lounges in a chair across from you, happily munching on a chocolate bar. The quiet hum of conversation fills the air, a rare moment of peace in a house full of chaos. It’s nice. Comfortable. Then Logan walks in. You don’t notice at first, but Ororo does. She glances up from her book, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Here comes trouble.” Kurt chuckles, following her gaze. “Ah, ja. Our dear friend is about to have a moment.” You frown, confused, until a familiar voice speaks up. “Didn’t expect to find ya here, sweetheart.” Your stomach flips. Logan strides in, casual as ever, a towel draped over his shoulders from what was likely an intense training session. He smells faintly of sweat and soap, his damp hair curling slightly at the ends. The sight alone is enough to make your face burn. Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay— Flowers. Dainty white lilies and tiny purple violets burst from the floor beneath you, creeping around your ankles like they were always meant to be there. Logan pauses mid-step, eyebrows raising. His lips twitch, eyes darting from the flowers to your mortified expression. “Huh.” Ororo elegantly places a bookmark in her novel, watching with open amusement. “Fascinating.” Kurt barely suppresses a laugh. “A most unique reaction.” You want the earth to swallow you whole. Logan takes a slow step forward, deliberately closing the distance. “So, what kinda flowers ya think I’ll get if I—” He reaches out, nudging your chin up with a single finger. Sunflowers. Bright, golden, utterly betraying you. Kurt actually snorts. Ororo hides her grin behind her hand. “Oh, this is delightful.” Logan chuckles, stepping back. “Gotta say, darlin’, you’re makin’ this real fun for me.” You bury your face in your hands. “I hate this.” “No, you don’t,” Ororo teases. You do. (You really don’t.)
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A few days later, Victor approaches with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Got somethin’ for ya,” he drawls, holding out a bouquet of wildflowers. The gesture alone is shocking enough to leave you speechless. “Figured if you’re gonna be sprouting these things, might as well bring my own.” You stare at the flowers, then at him. “You’re messing with me.” “Always.” He grins. “But I do wanna take ya out. Walk in the woods, just us. What do ya say?” Despite yourself, warmth spreads through your chest. “Fine.” The next evening, you walk together through the dense forest, the cool evening breeze rustling the leaves. Victor is surprisingly quiet at first, the usual smugness replaced by something more contemplative. Occasionally, his arm brushes against yours, and every time it does, your heartbeat picks up. You brought carrots for the deer, and when a small herd appears in the clearing, you both watch them with quiet appreciation. Victor chuckles as one nudges your hand for more food. “They like you.” “They’re animals,” you point out. “Of course they do.” He watches you carefully, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, his smirk returns. “Bet if I tried real hard, I could make ya bloom right now.” You scoff. “Not happening.” “Oh yeah?” He steps closer, his voice dropping an octave. “What if I—” “You wouldn’t.” “I would.” You jab him lightly in the ribs, laughing—until you suddenly find yourself pinned against a tree, Victor’s large hands gripping your wrists. His sharp grin fades just a little, his gaze darkening as he studies your face. “Y’know, you really are somethin’ else.” The teasing drops away for just a moment, leaving something more raw, more real. You barely have time to react before he crashes his lips against yours, rough and consuming. His grip tightens, the heat of his body pressing against yours, overwhelming in the best way. Your breath hitches, and just as expected—flowers bloom wildly at your feet, spiraling up the bark of the tree behind you. Wild roses, soft petals brushing against your ankles, betraying every emotion swirling inside you. Victor pulls back just enough to see the display, then smirks against your lips. “Knew it.”
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Logan’s low growl echoed across the room as he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, a smug grin plastered across his face. “So, you’ve been avoiding me. What’s the deal, sweetheart? You’ve been making flowers grow like it’s your job every time we talk.” You shifted uncomfortably, your cheeks blazing with heat, and, as always, you felt the telltale tingling in your feet. Sure enough, delicate white blossoms began to bloom at the edges of your shoes. You swore you could hear him chuckle under his breath. “I—I’m not avoiding you,” you stammered, trying to hide your embarrassment. "It just happens." “Oh, I know. You’re trying to keep your cool, huh?” Logan’s voice dropped a little, teasing. “But these flowers sure are a giveaway.” Your feet were now covered in a carpet of white petals, the bright flowers seeming to mock your every move. You wanted to disappear, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to his attention. “You know, I think I’d like to see what happens if we keep talking,” Logan continued, stepping closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He leaned down slightly, taking in the sight of your feet, the flowers blossoming like a spring garden in full bloom. “I’m warning you,” you mumbled, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. The situation was too ridiculous, and yet, Logan’s presence was somehow reassuring. “If you keep teasing me, you’re going to be covered in flowers too.” Logan raised an eyebrow, his lips curling upward. “You think I’m scared of a few flowers, sweetheart? I’ve fought in wars, but nothing scares me more than a shy, flustered woman with flowers growing at her feet.” You rolled your eyes, trying not to let the heat creep up to your ears, but it was useless. The teasing was working, and you were getting more and more embarrassed by the second. “Fine,” Logan said suddenly, reaching behind him and pulling out a small bouquet of vibrant, wildflowers. “I figured I’d bring you some of your own kind.” He grinned like a cat who had just caught a mouse. You stared at him, wide-eyed. “You—brought me flowers?” “Yeah, figured it might get me some points,” he replied, his teasing tone softening just enough to show he was being sincere. “I might have teased you about these flowers, but I kind of like the way you make them grow.” He handed you the bouquet, his fingers brushing yours as he did, sending a spark of warmth through your chest. You took the flowers, your heart pounding, and glanced at Logan. “You’re really persistent, huh?” “I am,” he agreed with a wink. “But I like the challenge.” His smile widened as he stepped a little closer, his presence intoxicating. “So, how about we get away from this garden of yours and go grab dinner? Maybe you can show me what happens when we’re not standing around all awkward.” Your breath caught, and you almost wanted to say no, but the way his eyes were fixed on you made it impossible. “Are you asking me out?” He chuckled, low and rich, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Wouldn’t be much of a date if I didn’t.” “I don’t know, Logan…” You feigned hesitation, despite the butterflies swirling in your stomach. “I might get nervous again. And you might have to put up with more flowers.” “Then I’ll make sure we’re sitting somewhere with plenty of room for your garden to grow,” Logan teased back, his voice turning softer as his hand brushed against your cheek. “Just say yes, and I promise we’ll make it worth your while.” With a deep breath, you smiled, the air between you both thick with anticipation. “Alright, fine. Dinner sounds good.” Logan’s grin widened, and as he leaned in closer, you felt your heart race.
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premiumbitch · 14 hours ago
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𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃’𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 જ⁀➴ ♡ 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐊
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This is for my lovely mutual @lilianne-tarot ! she's going to be using these as affirmations for her subliminal's so check out her channel : FLORIEL⋆. 𐙚 ˚ - YouTube basically this is a pack that includes things people might want to manifest about them selves! this is a cupids themed pack for V-day ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ enjoy
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♡ 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃’𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 ♡
𝐄𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 ✧ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐹𝑒𝑒𝓁𝓈 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒜 𝒮𝓅𝑒𝓁𝓁
You’re the type of beauty people can’t explain—like a dream they wake up from too soon, leaving them breathless, aching for just one more glimpse. It’s not just about looks; it’s the way you move, the way your expression shifts like a soft melody, the way your presence lingers long after you’ve left. You don’t try to be mesmerizing—you just are.
𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐀𝐮𝐫𝐚 ✧ 𝒜 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝒸𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒞𝒶𝓃’𝓉 𝐸𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓅𝑒
You walk in, and the air changes. Eyes flicker toward you, conversations falter, and hearts stumble over their own rhythm. There’s an unspoken pull—like gravity but sweeter, like fate but more dangerous. Even those who try to resist can’t help but fall under your spell.
𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐢𝐭 ✧ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑀𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎
Pretty faces turn heads, but your mind turns souls. You say things that stick, words that wrap around their thoughts like velvet, teasing them long after you’ve gone. Whether it’s the way you weave words like poetry or how you effortlessly turn the mundane into magic, they’re left wanting more.
𝐒𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲 ✧ 𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒪𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽
You’re like the last page of an unfinished novel, the love story that keeps them up at night wondering what if? You don’t give everything away—you leave spaces in the story, just enough for them to dream, to chase, to ache. People don’t just want to know you; they want to solve you.
𝐄𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐞 ✧ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒞𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒽 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒟𝒾𝑒𝓈
A glance from you is enough to set someone’s heart racing. A fleeting smile? That’s all it takes to turn their day into something they’ll replay like a favorite song. Even when you’re gone, you’re still there—in the back of their mind, in the warmth of a memory, in the sigh of a hopeless romantic.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 ✧ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎’𝓁𝓁 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓉
You’re not just a person—you’re an experience. Something about you feels like a stolen moment, a golden hour glow, the taste of something sweet and forbidden. You make people wish they could freeze time, relive every second, hold onto you just a little longer.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ✧ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉
Long after you’ve left the room, you remain. They’ll hear your laughter in a song, catch a glimpse of your silhouette in a stranger, feel the ghost of your touch when the wind brushes their skin. You’re not just a crush—you’re a haunting.
𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐭 ✧ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐼𝓃𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝐵𝑒𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝒟𝑒𝑒𝓅𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓇𝑒𝓈
You’re the muse behind the midnight confessions they never had the courage to say. The scribbled poetry in the margins of their notebook, the whispered name in the dark. People don’t just like you—they worship you in quiet, unspoken ways.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐦 ✧ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐹𝑒𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒞𝒶𝓃’𝓉 𝒮𝒽𝒶𝓀𝑒
You are both the rush of a first kiss and the warmth of a lover’s embrace. The exhilarating high and the soothing lull. You make people feel everything, and once they’ve felt you, there’s no going back.
𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝’𝐬 𝐀𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 ✧ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐿𝑒𝑔𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝐼𝓉𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻
You aren’t just someone’s crush. You’re the myth, the legend, the story that gets retold over and over, growing sweeter with time. You make people believe in love like it’s a religion, a miracle, a wish on a shooting star.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥 ✧ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒲𝒽𝑜 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒯𝓇𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔
You don’t have to be loud to be noticed. There’s a quiet magic about you—something in the way you move, the way you listen, the way you exist so effortlessly. People don’t realize they’re falling for you until it’s too late, and by then, you’ve already taken up space in their mind like a favorite song on repeat.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 ✧ 𝒮𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝒰𝓃𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒
There’s a softness to you, but don’t be mistaken—you’re not easy to have. You’re the definition of desirable yet unattainable. You make people feel special with just a glance, but deep down, they know not just anyone gets close to you. That’s what makes them ache for you even more.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐌𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲 ✧ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒞𝒶𝓃’𝓉 𝒬𝓊𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝐹𝒾𝑔𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝒪𝓊𝓉
You’re the lingering question, the unfinished chapter, the puzzle they can’t solve. You give just enough to keep them hooked, but not enough to be predictable. You exist in whispers, in stolen moments, in the spaces between certainty and longing. And that’s what makes you impossible to forget.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐤 ✧ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒲𝒽𝑜 𝒫𝓁𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓈
A little playful, a little teasing—you know the effect you have on people, and you don’t mind making them sweat a little. You drop hints, you laugh at the right moments, you know when to hold eye contact just a second too long. You don’t just make people fall for you—you make them chase you.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 ✧ 𝐻𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉, 𝐻𝒶𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒩𝑒𝓍𝓉
You don’t just come into people’s lives—you drift in like a dream and leave them wondering if you were ever real. Even after you’re gone, your presence lingers in the way they sigh when they hear your favorite song, in the way they glance at a crowd hoping to see you just one more time.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 ✧ 𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝐼𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝐿𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝒜 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓀
Your words? Laced with meaning. Your presence? Magnetic. Your touch? Just the right mix of warmth and mystery. Whether it’s a passing brush of your fingers or a lingering gaze, every little thing you do has a way of sticking to people’s souls like poetry.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 ✧ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐹𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓈𝓎 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒞𝒶𝓃’𝓉 𝐸𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓅𝑒
You don’t just belong in reality—you exist in people’s imaginations. They picture you in the rain, in candle-lit rooms, in slow dances under city lights. You’re the character in their unwritten novel, the face they see in their dreams, the what if they’ll never stop wondering about.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝 ✧ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒲𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝐹𝒶𝒹𝑒
Long after they’ve met you, your name still tastes sweet on their tongue. Your voice still lingers in their ears. They replay conversations, reread messages, stare at the ceiling at night, wondering if you ever think about them the way they think about you.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 ✧ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒲𝒽𝑜 𝐹𝑒𝑒𝓁𝓈 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒟𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓎
It doesn’t matter if they believe in fate or not—when they meet you, it feels like the universe whispered your name in their ear. Every moment with you feels like a cosmic alignment, like something bigger than themselves is at play. They can’t explain it, but they feel it.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 ✧ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒𝓈
Some people fade away. But you? You become a permanent bookmark in someone’s story. Years will pass, seasons will change, but whenever they hear your name, their heart will still skip a beat. You are not just a memory—you are the love they measure all others against.
Cupid never misses. especially when it comes to you, He aims straight for the heart. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
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warning: if you do decide to manifest this, I strongly urge you to please manifest that you're safe and that you won't experience the following:
Unhinged Obsession & Stalking, Possessiveness & Dangerous Lovers , The Risk of Being Used, Worshipped, or Broken, Violent Jealousy & Hatred, People Projecting Their Fantasies Onto You, Emotional Exhaustion From Others’ Expectations, The Pain of Watching Others Struggle to Move On and not find love because a part of them still aches for you.
I am not responsible for YOU deciding not to script these safety measures.
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lovelywingsart · 9 months ago
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Small vent/ramble thing ayy fuck
I... really can't tell if people get annoyed that I'm still working with RE8, or if they get annoyed that I work with other things along with it.
Mostly sites like Instagram, which is about as bad as twitter nowadays
Constant follows and unfollows, shite for numbers and interaction... Even here sometimes
I try not to let numbers and all get to me because I know full well it won't end well but like.
Man, I dunno...
I try really hard and have been for years with jack shit to show for it
The instagram hack last year was an exceptionally low blow
And while I'm fully caught up and thriving, I have less than half of the followers and even less interaction
Twitter barely gets anything
Fuck if I know what's going on here on tumblr
I can't read minds
I don't know
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screampied · 8 months ago
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toji realizes he’s in love with you when he lets you shave his face for the first time,
he’s got the biggest grump of a scowl plastered on his naturally crooked lips. as he’s glowering, he’s also trying to prevent himself from smiling because you looked so cute. your touch with him was gentle—like it always was. after you wiped his face with a dampened face towel, you rub your hands against the lower part of his jaw. “soooo,” you utter, breaking the dead silence as he’s just peering down at you. “tell me ‘bout your day, toji.”
with the palms of your hands tenderly caressing against his chiseled jawline—you smear every part of his chin and cheekbones with shaving cream. even the secluded areas underneath his nose. as you do so, toji tchs. “day was fine, baby. ‘n i told ya i can shave myself.”
“i know i know,” you hum, creating a circular motion with your hands before gently making sure every sector near the lower part of his face was lathered with nice frothy amounts of shaving cream. “wowww, you’ve got such soft skin. skin routine when?”
“ugh, y’er insufferable,” he rolls his eyes. although, his skin was surprisingly clear. toji only had a bit of a stubble, hardly any facial hair but it was growing the more he aged. you took it upon yourself to ask to help him shave and he said yes, not realizing how much he’d soon grow to like it. the feeling of your delicate, warm hands rubbing against his face was somewhat . . soothing. with a deep, heaving sigh, toji’s hooded jade eyes meet yours. he spots your pout and his shoulders lower. “alright fine, i’ll teach you one day. only if ya stop poutin'..”
with a cheeky grin, your little pout falters and you smile. “okay,” and you wait for about a good three minutes to allow the spumous cream to souse everywhere on his pores. it takes a while—and as you wait, you take a moment to stare at his features. toji was definitely easy on the eyes up close. naturally long black lashes of his flicker as he returns your loving gaze, and he avoids eye contact for a moment. perhaps you were making him a bit . . nervous. darkened eyebrows of his arch into an almost sheepish raise while he watches your adorable curious simper stretch further. “don’t be so stiff, what are you, nervous?”
“not nervous. jus’ don’t want ya to cut my face off.” he grumbles in a hoarse tone, ogling intently at you opening the bathroom cabinet for his razor. “you know what y’er doin’ right? i’d like ‘ta keep my face.”
“oh, don’t be dramatic,” and now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. toji’s got a growing smirk tugging against his lips as he gawks you carefully start to shave in the exact sectors of where his facial hair resides. you did lots and lots of research—he knew this because he caught you reading various wikiHow articles on how to shave a guy’s face correctly. toji would never in a million years tell you, but he found that fact entirely adorable. you made sure you knew how to avoid burns and razor bumps. as you’re fixated on his chin, you mumble, “you’ll keep your pretty face, don’t cry.”
“aw, think ‘m pretty?” toji says, and you see the playful glint in his eyes. he’s easing up a bit, and he acknowledges that you were right. right about his stiffness, he was a bit tense. shoulders raised and all, but now—as of late, he’s starting to calm down a bit the more you talk to him. “i’d prefer the term 'handsome' but that works too, i guess.”
you deadpan, continuing your trail against his face—the razor sings out a shrieking tiiiing the more you gingerly shave with soft, gentle strokes.
it’s somewhat relaxing with the way the edges of the instrument adapts to the chiseled contours on his face. the foam starts to come off within each downward stroke and you’re very slow and precise. “okay, don’t be cocky,” you titter, and he feels his heart flutter a bit at how you’re just so dedicated. you’re so focused that your tongue briefly sticks out of your mouth, trying to make sure you do it perfectly. you tried your hardest not to cut him—you were so careful and that simple detail alone could have been enough for him to propose. “you should let me do this more. ‘s kinda fun.”
“eh. maybe,” toji shrugs, his voice coming out in a rough rasp. he doesn’t even realize it but his expressions significantly soften. he was only this way around you. to him, the thought of that was kind of scary. after you start to edge with the precision trimmer and reach underneath his nose and chin, you wrap it up. successfully discarding all of the foamy cream from his face, spotting his now clean jawline, you break away to rinse off the now grubby blades in the sink. “all done?”
“wait— don’t look yet,” you gasp, preventing him from gazing at himself in the mirror. “i still have to do the uh . . what’s it called again?”
toji snickers. “aftershave, baby.”
“aftershave,” you repeat. “right right,” and you’re so cute, kneeling down towards the wooden cabinet directly underneath the sink. you take out the mini bottle, pouring a nice goopy amount into your palm. you let toji wash his face with cold water first, patting it dry, and then you start to bedaub the facial balm in all the sensitive areas against his skin. he adores the mushy texture of your hands making contact with his face as each second passes. toji’s eyeing you, an almost grunt leaving his lips as a thumb of yours gently tickles against his infamous scar. the scar that slants itself near the right side of his lip. “thereee we go,” you give him a soft smile, the aromatic scent of tea tree oil setting against your nostrils. up close, his pores were now all so clear and you stare in awe for a bit at just how charming he was. the moisture that lays against his skin feels a lot more smooth. you grow silent for a moment before your own face softens. “okayyy, ‘m done.”
toji finally glances into the mirror, seeing his freshly new spotless face and he sees your proud toothy grin in the mirror’s reflection behind him. he cranes his neck to the side, feeling the once rough texture of his jawline now soft. he then lets off a tiny exhale. “looks good. y’er a natural,” and he turns to face you, he’s pondering on what to say. oh, your eyes sparkled with such admiration from his praise that it was just adorable. “thank you, sweetheart. for y’know . . takin’ care of me. y’er really . . sweet.”
and with that, his lips inch down to press a warm kiss against the crown of your head. your heart immediately swarms up with a frantic school of butterflies and so does his. toji prepares speak again and it’s an almost inaudible mumble. you could barely even register what he said at first because it was so hushed, but toji gruffs in a low tone. “i … love you..”
“h- huh?”
scoffing, he hides the burning embarrassed flush against his face by pulling you into his broad chest. you giggle at how he just abruptly snatches you close into his warm body before he slings a beefy arm around you. “i said, let’s uh.. do our skin care together later t’night.”
“awww i love you too toj—”
“oh my god, s-shut up..”
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charmedimsure · 1 month ago
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Hello! Can I order a Dae Ho one-shot? about the reader who comes to the game pregnant and meets Dae Ho there and they have some kind of connection and he tells her that when they get out of there he would like to be with her and the baby.
thank you and happy new year <3
*slams bell* ORDER UP! (im sorry that was so cringey)
THE THREE OF US || kang dae-ho
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pairing: Kang Dae-ho x f!reader
summary: Trying to make it out of the games with both you and your baby's lives, you meet a man who is determined to help.
word count: 6.3k (i did not expect it to be this long thats what she said)
warnings: pregnancy, guns, death, blood, squid game stuff
A/N: i love jun-hee, but the reader replaces her in this fic. reader has no connection to myung-gi (333). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3
Part 2: After the Games
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The second game is about to start, and time is running out for you to find a team. You've approached a few groups, but have been turned away by all of them. Turns out most groups don't want women on their team.
Out of the corner of your eye you spot the man who had won these games before, along with the man who beat up those other players the day before. Figuring you might as well take a shot, you approach them.
Just as you get to them, a handsome man comes running over, pulling a player along behind him. "Sir! I got someone! He'll definitely risk his life to win."
The man he brought salutes the others. "Victory at all costs!"
The shorter man in the group, player 390, smiles and salutes back. "Hey, were you in the Marines?"
"Class 946, sir!"
Player 390 laughs. "Boy, with three ex-Marines, we'll be invincible." He turns to players 001 and 456. "What do you think? I like him."
Great, you think to yourself. Now they get to pick between an ex-Marine and a woman who can barely stand for more than 20 minutes at a time. Still though, this is a good team, and you'll be damned if you don't at least try.
"Excuse me," you say, getting the group's attention. "Please let me join your team."
Player 390 speaks up. "Sorry, we've already got five people."
Fuck it. Time to pull out the big guns.
"Please help me," you plead, leaning back a bit and putting your hand up to your swollen belly. "I'm pregnant."
All five men grow silent as they look down to your stomach.
<>
"Time for team selection is up."
You can feel the stares of your new team on you as the second game is announced. You just look forward, trying to listen to voice.
"The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each player will take turns playing a mini-game at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the mini games. Number one, Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gong-gi. Number four, Spinning Top. Number five, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the mini-games and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide players for each mini-game."
Player 390 turns to his friend. "It's good that we got a woman." He turns to you. "You can play Gong-gi, right?"
You give him a sorry look as you shake your head.
His smile falters. "Don't girls play Gong-gi anymore?"
You look down at the sand. "I've played it, but I was never good at it."
You can see the disappointment on his face as he nods.
Player 388 takes a deep breath as he turns toward 390. "Actually, I can play Gong-gi."
390 gives him a confused look. "You? And ex-Marine?"
You give 390 a weird look. Is it really that hard to believe that a military man has played a kid's game before?
388 gets embarrassed. "I grew up with four older sisters. I used to play it with them from time to time."
You smile, thinking it's sweet that he used to play games with his sisters.
390 claps him on the back. "That's right. There's nothing a Marine can't do."
Player 456 leans forward to look at all of you. "Everyone else, what game are you confident playing?"
You take a deep breath. Jegi was the game you were best at growing up, but you don't think you'll be able to play it in your condition. You lean forward as well. "I can play Ddakji. At the subway station I flipped the guy's on my first try."
390 nods. "Okay. Miss 222, you can play Ddakji. I'll play Flying Stone. I was a pitcher for my baseball team. I'm good at throwing."
As 456 and 001 decide who will play Jegi and who will play Spinning Top, 388 turns to you.
"Did you really beat him on the first try? It took me at least eight."
You breathe out a laugh and give him a small smile. "Yeah. I probably could have paid off my debt if he had let us keep playing." Your smile falters as you rest your hand on your swollen stomach. "It would have been safer for the baby."
388 frowns sympathetically and scoots a bit towards you. "We will get out of here. And after that, we will go home. You and your baby will be safe."
Although you don't completely believe him, you still give him a smile and thank him for his kind words.
You feel movement in your stomach and let out a small yelp at the unexpected feeling, looking down towards your hand.
"Are you alright? What happened?" 388 asks, concern clear on his face.
With a smile, you lift your head to look at him and the others who have directed their attention to you. "I felt the baby kick."
Player 388 breaks out into a smile as he looks to your belly, seemingly fascinated by what is happening inside of you.
Player 001 lets out a loud laugh. "The baby wants to play Jegi."
You let out a chuckle as the men laugh. You made a good choice asking these players for help.
"All right guys, bring your hands together," 390 says, sticking his hand out in front of him. "All together now."
You need to scoot over a bit, but you put your hand on the pile on top of 388's, who gives you a shy smile.
"On three, we go, 'Victory at all costs.' One, two, three..."
"Victory at all costs!"
<>
The walls open and forklifts are brought in holding boxes with pink bows on top. You watch as the bodies of both teams are separated from each other and placed into each box. One team had made it past the fourth mini-game, while the other had only just finished the second. Both teams were executed.
The bodies are eventually cleared out, but the blood remains on the track. The second team lines up and you recognize the sweet old lady who had given you her egg this morning, as well as her son. Shit, you really hope they make it.
The gun fires and they're off. The first girl, player 095, looks so nervous I'm worried she won't be able to throw the Ddakji. Her first three attempts fail, and she looks as though she won't be able to continue. Player 120 whispers something to her and she nods. She picks up the Ddakji, turns in over in her hand, and smacks it to the floor. Success.
The group celebrates as they move on, and you make a mental note of that little trick for when it's your turn.
Next is player 007, the son. He throws the stone and misses. Instead of panicking like the past groups, they quickly grab the stone and move backwards to the line, saving lots of time. As 007 is preparing to throw the stone again, his mother whispers something to him. A look of anger washes over his face.
"That asshole ruined my fucking life!"
A perfect hit. The entire crowd cheers as they advance to the next mini-game. You smile to yourself. They can do this.
Next is the mother playing Gong-gi. She drops her first two tries. You're guessing it must be at least a few decades since she last played.
"Old hag! What are you doi-"
Player 120 puts her hand over player 044's mouth to shut her up.
You watch as 007 speaks to his mother. With a new look of determination in her eyes, she blasts through Gong-gi until she needs to make the final catch. You and player 388 sit on your heels to get a better look. Her son speaks to her again, and face turns to one of rage.
"Rotten bitch!"
All five pieces end up in her hand.
"She did it!" Player 390 says, getting to his feet, 388 following after him. You try to get up but fall back as you lose your balance. Player 388 notices and holds your arms to help you up, keeping a hand on your back to keep you steady as you stand to watch the next game.
044 fumbles the top as she's wrapping it, but quickly retrieves it and tries again. She fumbles a few more times before stopping. Her team freaks out as she stands there mumbling to herself.
A gasp rings out through the crowd as 120 slaps 044 twice, picking up the fallen top and pointing it threateningly at 044's eye.
"Oh shit," you say under your breath.
Player 044 wipes away the blood streaming from her nose and tries again the wrap the string around the top. She gets it on her first throw and the crowd screams in joy as they move to the next one. Everyone is standing now to watch, chanting along to each step.
Player 120 is handed the Jegi and requests that everyone turns around. Not wanting to mess them up, everyone turns without hesitation. The room is silent besides the sound of the Jegi hitting 120's shoes.
Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five times.
It's done! They did it!
The rooms bursts into screams as the team crosses the finish line at the last second. You turn and hug 388 in pure joy as he jumps up and down. He quickly pulls away so he doesn't do anything to harm the baby, but keeps his arm around you as he celebrates with 390.
The teams keep going, with everyone celebrating the wins and wincing at the gunfire until it is finally your turn.
As you walk to the starting position, a hand gently grabs your wrist and you turn to see player 388. "Make sure to be careful. Take it easy and don't strain yourself."
You nod with a small smile and thank him, taking your spot in the outer ring of the small track. You take deep breaths as the harnesses are secured around your ankles.
"It's a little sad that we have no audience, isn't it?" 390 says, worry in his voice. He nudges 388. "Hey, are you scared?"
"No sir!" 388 yells, making you jump a bit as you were not expecting it. "It's quiet and easier to focus without anyone watching."
390 looks towards the other team. "Hey guys! We'll see you again at the finish line! Victory at all costs!"
The other team yells back their thanks and support before the pistol is fired and you're off.
When you approach the first mini-game, you take the blue tile and turn it over in your hand to match 095's. Throwing it hard at the floor, you yell in delight as the red tile flips over.
You move on to the next game, holding your stomach as you walk.
As 390 takes the stone, 388 yells out "Let's get this done the first time! I believe in you!"
"When I played baseball, my pitches might have been slow, but I had excellent ball control." You watch as the stones collide and yell out in victory as you move to the next one.
388 takes the Gong-gi pieces and you all crouch down.
390 faces him. "Dae-ho, stay calm. Even if you mess up..."
Player 388, or Dae-ho, puts his finger over his mouth to shush him before facing the board, rolling his wrist a few times and dropping the pieces. As quickly as he can, Dae-ho flawlessly gets through the game and catches all five pieces. You and your team members look at each other in awe of what you just watched. It seems that even Dae-ho can't believe he did it.
He lets out a scream as the guard confirms that he passed.
"That was amazing!" Player 390 yells. "Dae-ho, my boy!"
As you move to the fourth mini game, Player 390 looks down at you. "You're expecting, so be careful."
You nod but try to keep your pace, leaning on the small green table once you get to where you need to be.
As player 001 wraps the string around the top, Dae-ho bounces excitedly. "We might get through everything on the first attempt!"
Player 001 throws the top and it falls lazily to the floor as you all frown.
"It's okay, we have enough time," 456 says. "Let's go pick it up. Ready, go."
You all move forward together to grab the top. "No fun passing everything without a hitch," 390 says.
"That's right," 388 confirms. "You can't grow without failure, right?"
You guess he's right, but it would've been nice to pass everything easily. At least you still have three minutes left.
001 grabs the top and you move back to your spots. On his next throw you watch helplessly as the top flies behind your group. You would have laughed in any other situation.
Player 001 apologizes and you move back to grab the top, with 001 taking his sweet time to pick it up. To save time, he tries wrapping it as you walk forward again, but he breaks out of the arm link in frustration. This time he throws it as soon as it is wrapped. It doesn't spin, but at least it lands directly in front of him so you don't have to move again.
Player 456 picks up the top as 001 sighs in frustration. "What the hell is wrong with me?" He screams and you gasp when he starts slapping himself and calling himself an idiot.
456 takes his arms to stop him. "Try to remember the times when you had fun playing this."
001 nods and takes the top and string again. You take the time to look at the clock and feel a wave of worry wash over you when you see that you have less than a minute left. This time, 001 throws the top with his left hand and it spins perfectly on its axle.
You yell in joy as you quickly links arms again and move to the last game. Player 390 checks on you again as you move, and you just wave him off. The stress can't be good for the baby, but it's definitely not as bad as a bullet.
456 grabs the jegi and moves the pink soldier out of the way. He throws it up.
One hit. Two hits. Three hits. Four hits...
You watch in horror as the jegi flies in front of 456. Quickly, 001 kicks his foot out, making you all almost fall as the jegi lands on top of 456's left foot.
"Pass."
You all yell out victoriously and quickly move, crossing the finish line with a second to spare.
As you're all hugging each other, you flinch at the sounds of gunshots coming from the other side of the room. The other team didn't make it.
The main room is oddly quiet as you walk in. As happy as everyone was to see people pass while watching the games, they don't seem to be very happy about it now. Player 390 next to you waves at someone, and you look in the direction to see the woman and her son.
"That sweet old lady," he says with a smile. "I miss my mom."
You smile at the lady and bow your head to her as she gives you a big smile and two thumbs up.
As you sit down to rest and wait for the pink soldiers, 001 speaks up. "I'm sorry about earlier, everyone."
"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made the last kick," 456 says and you nod.
001 looks at you. "Player 222, are you feeling alright?"
You nod. "Yes. Thank you all for letting me be on your team."
Dae-ho smiles shyly and nods.
"She smashed that ddakji and flipped it on her first try, that was impressive," 390 says, making you smile at the praise. "She did great, even while carrying a baby. We were lucky she joined our team."
Dae-ho nods. "What about your Flying Stone play? You hit it with one shot! With an underhand pitch at that! Bam!" You let out a small laugh as he reenacts 390's throw. "You were like Kim Byung-hyun."
"And you?" 390 says. "Was Gong-gi the only game you ever played?" He quickly moves his hand around to imitate Dae-ho. "I could barely see your hand. It was like a martial arts movie."
Dae-ho laughs. "I'm the only son for two generations. My mom only let me play at home with my sisters."
"And yet they let their precious son join the Marines?" 390 questions.
Dae-ho hesitates. "My father's idea, he wanted me to be more of a man. He fought in the Vietnam War, you see."
"He sounds like a great man," 390 says and Dae-ho nods. "Was he a Marine, too?"
You can see the discomfort on Dae-ho's face and he quickly excuses himself from answering the question, instead standing up to face everyone. "Listen. Perhaps we should learn each other's names. I still don't know your names, gentlemen." He smiles a bit more when he looks to you. "Or your's, Miss. I'll start. I'm Kang Dae-ho. 'Dae' means 'big', 'ho' means 'tiger'."
"'Big tiger.' Cool name," 390 says. "My name is Park Jung-bae. 'Righteous' and 'twice'. My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous."
You go next, stating your name for the group. "I don't know what it means, though."
001 says your name, getting your attention. "When you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You've been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out."
You nod. "Okay."
"I'm Oh Young-il," 001 says. He points out how it sounds like his number and the group laughs at the coincidence. Young-il turns to 456. "Oh, Gi-hun, what's your last name?"
"My name is Seong Gi-hun," Gi-hun says.
"'Seong' literally means 'last name'," Young-il laughs aloud by himself.
A loud buzz is heard and the guards enter the room. After revealing the results of the game and announcing the next vote, your team turns to each other.
You look down at the red X on your track suit, and look up to see the blue 'O' on Dae-ho's. He sees your gaze and frowns down at his patch.
"I'm telling you, we'll get out this time," he says to the team, though he is mainly looking at you. He looks down at his patch again and curses under his breath. "A Marine should think strategically and know when to retreat." He puts a hand on Jung-bae's shoulder. "Isn't that right, brother?"
"Yeah, you're right," Jung-bae says weakly. "Marines aren't invincible. We should get out." Despite saying this, the look on his face and the nervousness in his tone contradict his words.
"We have to end the games here," Gi-hun says. He turns to look at you. "I will help you guys when we get out. Please trust me and support this vote."
You smile and nod in thanks.
"Guys, all huddle up again," Dae-ho smiles as he sticks out his hand.
"Victory at all costs."
<>
You frown as the buzzer goes off one last time. There had been some... complications during the voting. This lead to the final vote being 116 for X and 139 for O. Standing next to Dae-ho, you don't miss the look of betrayal on his face as he looks over to Jung-bae with the blue patch on his chest.
Dae-ho lets out a loud sigh as you eat your bread. "Brother! Brother Jung-bae!"
You can see Jung-bae tense up from his spot behind the beds.
With a sigh, Dae-ho stands up and approaches the man. "Hey, just come back here."
"No, I'm good here," you hear Jung-bae answer. You roll your eyes.
"Oh, come on." Dae-ho grabs Jung-bae and drags him to face the group.
He stops and stares at you all before speaking. "I'm sorry. I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I'll be able to settle my debt."
"Jung-bae," Young-il addresses the man sadly. "You of all people shouldn't have done it. It's not twice as righteous." He sighs before continuing. "But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted."
Jung-bae jumps at this. "Right? It's not entirely my fault."
"Alright," Dae-ho steps up. "To be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn't enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game."
Jung-bae hugs the man. "You did?"
Dae-ho pushes him away. "I said I get it."
The shorter man turns back to the group. "Thank you for understanding. But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn't we? If we stick together one more time, I'm sure we'll be fine." He turns to you. "I'll make sure we survive the next game-"
"'The next game'?" Gi-hun cuts him off. "In the next game, we might have to kill each other."
There is silence before Young-il speaks up. "Gi-hun, that's a bit much. There's nothing we can do now, so let's try to stay positive. We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again." He picks up his milk and hands it to you. "Here, you can have mine too. Hang in there until the next game."
You shake your head. "No, that's okay."
"Take it. I don't drink plain milk."
You thank him as you take the milk.
Jung-bae takes the bread out of his pocket. "Have my bread, too. I don't deserve to eat."
You smile as you take it. You have been feeling hungry and one piece of bread would definitely not be enough for you, so you're grateful for the men around you.
"I'll take your milk then," Dae-ho says to Jung-bae.
Before you can stop yourself, a loud laugh escapes from your mouth. The others smile before laughing along as well. You look over to Dae-ho to see a blush covering his face as he smiles.
<>
"Pass it to me."
The guys hand each other mattresses as they move them to under the beds. You had been put in charge of collecting blankets and pillows so you wouldn't strain yourself.
"Is this really necessary?" Jung-bae asks. "I don't like sleeping under there."
"Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us," Gi-hun says as he pushes another mattress under a bed frame.
"What?" Dae-ho asks. "Who?"
"The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It's part of the game they designed."
"Gi-hun, I think you're overreacting here," Young-il says. "Even if that were true, people wouldn't do that."
Gi-hun turns to face him. "In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here. You have no idea how people can change in this place."
Young-il apologizes and you hand the blankets in your arms to Jung-bae.
"We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out," Gi-hun says. "I'll take the first, you should decide the order for the rest."
The order decided was that Jung-bae would take over after Gi-hun, then Dae-ho, then Young-il would be last. You tried to volunteer to keep watch but they immediately shot you down, saying you needed the rest more than them.
<>
After a trip to the bathroom with players 149 and 120, whose names you still did not know, you come back to find Dae-ho keeping watch. You try to quickly wipe the tear stains from your cheeks as you walk back to the makeshift shelter. You give a quick nod to Dae-ho before trying to move past him, but he calls out your name, making you stop and turn to look at him.
He looks up at you with concern. "Are you okay?"
You put on a smile and nod. "Yes, I'm fine." As you try to walk away you feel his hand gently grab your wrist to stop you.
"No you're not," he says. You sigh, upset that you've been caught. He moves to the side to give you space and you sit next to him, figuring you're not gonna get out of this. "What happened? Was it the baby?"
You shake your head, feeling tears start to well up again. "It's everything." You put your head in your hands. "I never should have played Ddakji with that guy, I never should have called the number, I should have just stayed at home and prepared for the baby."
Dae-ho gently rubs your back as you cry into your sleeves. Even though you really only just met, he feels connected to you. Maybe it's just because you survived the second game together, but he cares for you and doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. He was stunned when you had walked up to the group before the game and asked to join, immediately regretting picking anyone besides the beautiful stranger that was standing in front of him.
"What about your husband?" Dae-ho asks. "Does he know that you're here?"
You shake your head. "I don't have a husband. I don't even have a boyfriend. It's just me and the baby." You turn to look at him and although he's too kind to ask you how you got knocked up, you can see the question all over his face. "My ex-boyfriend is the reason I got into so much debt. He made a lot of bad investments and when he ran out of his own money, he started using mine. When I told him I was pregnant, he freaked out and left. Didn't even say anything, his stuff was just all gone one day."
Dae-ho feels himself getting angry at this. If he found out a man had done this with one of his sisters, he would do something to him that would probably land him in prison. It takes two people to make a baby. Just because the mother is the one that carries it doesn't mean that the father isn't responsible for the child.
"He's a fucking coward," Dae-ho says, making you snort a small laugh. "And he's an idiot to leave you."
"It's for the best, though," you say. "He wasn't a good boyfriend, I knew that even while we were dating. But he was my first love, and we all do stupid things the first time we're in love." Dae-ho nods, watching as you bring your hand to rest on your stomach. "I only wish that my child would have a father in their life."
"They will have an amazing mother, though," he says, making you smile.
"I hope so," you rub your swollen belly. "Hey, Dae-ho, can I ask you something?"
Dae-ho nods, looking at you with intrigue.
"Earlier you told Jung-bae that you had thought about voting to stay. Why didn't you?" You ask.
The man takes a deep breath. "Honestly, I thought of you. You and your baby. When you told us that you're pregnant, it really hit me that I'm not the only person in here, that there are other lives at risk. If you died, it wouldn't just be the end of your life. Your baby doesn't deserve that. You don't deserve that."
You can't help the smile that blooms on your face at his words, as well as the small blush. "Thank you for thinking of me. You're a very sweet person, Kang Dae-ho." You watch as he gives you a shy smile, a light dusting of pink on his face. "What about you? Do you have a girlfriend waiting for you back home?"
He shakes his head. "No, just me." You give him an incredulous look and he chuckles. "Dating wasn't easy while in the Marines, and I guess I just never found anyone that interested me enough after."
You let out a small laugh. "Sounds like you have high standards."
He chuckles. "I'm just waiting to find the one. They say that when you know, you know."
"That's going to be one very lucky girl," you say, watching as the blush on his face deepens. "I hope you find her soon."
"I can't explain why, but I feel like I will." He smiles down at you with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. After a few moments he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I've kept you up for so long, you should get some sleep. You'll likely need your energy for tomorrow's game."
You nod, standing up. "You're right, I've been up too long." You start to move towards your mattress, but stop. "It was nice talking to you, Dae-ho."
He smiles at you. "Goodnight."
You smile back. "Goodnight."
For the rest of his watch, Dae-ho sneaks peaks at your sleeping form, a warm feeling running through him when he thinks about your words.
<>
You awake to the feeling of someone shaking you. Groggily opening your eyes, you see Dae-ho leaning over you.
"The next game is starting soon, we need to get up," he says.
You hear the classical music that has played before every game and nod, allowing him to help you get out of bed. "Nothing to start the day off like a sadistic game and fearing for your life, huh?"
Dae-ho lets out a chuckle as you make your way to the doors. He walks behind you on the stairs to make sure you don't fall, and stands right by your side as the curtains are opened to reveal the game room.
"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle. All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."
"Oh, this game?" Jung-bae says. "We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging."
"I played it too," you say. "But we would hold hands instead."
Together you set up a strategy. If the number is five, you'll all go together. If it's more than five, you'll grab however many people we need. If it's smaller than five, you'll break off into groups. When your strategy is done, you put your hands in the center.
"Victory at all costs."
<>
"Let the game begin."
The platform jerks as it starts rotating, and you almost lose your balance, but Dae-ho is there to grab you and steady you on your feet.
"Ten."
Everyone starts looking around like mad as they try to find ten players.
Gi-hun looks to a player behind him. "How many are you?"
"Four," the woman replies. You recognize her as one of the women who came to the bathroom with you last night.
"That makes us nine!" Jung-bae says.
A man from another group comes running over. "Are you five? We need five!"
Before any of you can answer, another player yells back. "We have five people! Come with us!"
The two groups go running off towards a door.
"We have to hurry!" Gi-hun says.
"There's no time, Gi-hun!" Young-il tells him.
"We need one more!" the tall woman yells. She spots someone by herself near the center of the platform and grabs her. "We have ten!"
"Room 44! Green door! Hurry!" Young-il yells, already running off in the direction of the door.
You run as fast as you can towards the door as Young-il holds it open for everyone to get inside. You feel Dae-ho's hand on the small of your back the entire way to the room. Before you get the chance to even think, the clock runs out, and the lock clicks on the door.
Screams and gunshots can be heard from behind the door, the sad fate of those who didn't make it in time.
Dae-ho turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "How are you feeling? Is everything okay?"
"A bit out of breath, but I'm okay," you say, and he nods. Taking the chance to look around the room, you see that the other five is the first group that passed the pentathlon the day before.
"You're alive thanks to me!" Player 044 yells out, making you jump. She looks over everyone before stopping on you and stepping closer, making you take a step back. Dae-ho holds you close to him as the woman looks down at your stomach. She then looks up at Dae-ho and gives him a knowing smirk before leaving to speak to Gi-hun.
You look up at Dae-ho, who is still holding you to his chest. He watches the woman walk away before look down at you, your faces so close that your noses are only a few inches apart.
Once the bodies are removed from the playing area, you're let out of the room and make your way back to the center platform. The next round is four people to a room, and Young-il goes off on his own to find three more as the rest of you run to a room with a purple door.
Once you're let out, Dae-ho and Jung-bae yell for Young-il before a voice calling Gi-hun's name grabs your attention. You look over with relief to see Young-il jogging up to your group.
"I knew you were going to be okay!" Jung-bae smiles as he pulls Young-il in for a hug. "I knew it. You're not just anybody."
"I was worried," Gi-hun says. "I'm glad you made it."
Young-il smiles. "I'm a likable guy, so I'm good at games like this." He turns to you. "Are you feeling alright?"
You nod with a smile. "Yes, I'm alright. I'm glad you're back."
Young-il gives you a smile, but his face turns serious. "Wait a minute," Young-il says, "if the next number is six, we won't need anyone else, will we?"
"Why not?" Dae-ho asks.
After a moment, Jung-bae laughs. "Oh, in her tummy?"
Dae-ho lets out a loud laugh. "Right, that makes six."
You smile as they joke around, looking down to your swollen belly.
The next round is three, so you, Dae-ho, and Jung-bae run to a room with an orange door. With every round, you can feel yourself growing more and more tired, and your feet are begging for relief from so much standing and moving.
Once you get out of the green room with Dae-ho and players 120, 095, 007, and 149 (you make a mental note to ask for their names once you're back in the main room), you feel exhausted. As you step onto the platform, Dae-ho grabs your arm to support you.
"Now, the final round will begin."
The platform begins to rotate and you lean on Dae-ho to keep yourself upright.
"What do you think it'll be this time?" Jung-bae leans forward to ask Gi-hun.
"Two," Young-il answers, getting our attention.
"Why?"
"There are 126 people left, and there are 50 rooms. So there won't be enough rooms for everyone, only 100."
"Are you alright?" Dae-ho asks you, concern on his face.
You shake your head. "I don't think I can run anymore."
The platform stops and the lighting dims.
"Two."
Before you can tell what's happening, you are lifted off the ground. You hold on tightly to Dae-ho as he sprints to the nearest door with you in his arms. Once inside, he places you on the ground and moves toward the door, pushing his weight against it to keep anyone else from getting in and pushing you out.
You keep your gaze on the man. He saved your life. He saved your baby's life. Without hesitation. Hell, he even voted to leave for you yesterday. This man who only came into your life a day ago has shown you more unwavering loyalty than anyone else has before.
Then the realization dawns on you: you don't want to do this without him. You don't want anything to happen to him. You want to protect him, just as he is protecting you. Not just in the games, but always.
The lock on the door clicks into place and screams are heard from the other side of the door. Once the screams finish, Dae-ho kneels beside you.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
You shake your head, still in awe of the man in front of you. You examine his face and a surge of confidence rushes through you.
"Can I do something really stupid?"
Dae-ho gives you a confused look. "What?"
You grab his zip-up and pull him to you, planting your lips against his. You feel him stiffen and worry that you've made a terrible mistake, but before you can pull away, you feel one of his hands slide into your hair as the other moves to cup your cheek.
For a perfect moment, you're not in this crazy place. There's no debt, there's no death, there's no fear. There's just you and Dae-ho.
You pull away first but Dae-ho chases your lips, giving you a peck before resting his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath.
"I promise you that I am going to get us out of here," he whispers to you. You feel his hand move down to your stomach. "The three of us. If you'll let me."
You gasp at his words, tears forming in your eyes as you nod. This time, you believe him. Dae-ho pulls you in for another kiss and you smile against his mouth, feeling him smile as well.
The sound of the door unlocking gains your attention and Dae-ho pulls away. Voices can be heard beyond the door.
Dae-ho stands up and holds out his hands for you to take, helping you to your feet. He wipes the stray tears from your cheeks and plants a kiss on your forehead before lacing your fingers together and leading you out of the room.
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Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck
Lmk if you want to be added to the Dae-ho taglist!
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luvleyshif4 · 1 month ago
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bf!rafe Cameron x gf!reader
Summery~ bf!rafe coming back home from work to find a flustered and horny gf!reader but she can’t say it cause she’s shy.
Content~ Sexual tension, shy reader, slight humping, neck kissing, use of words like ‘princess, baby’ etc…
Authors Note~ Heyy!! I’m kinda trying out a new format so that’s why this looks like what it looks like… also this was so yum to write idk why but I just lowkey love this so much. Enjoy💗💗
Pt2
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Rafe walks through the front door, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, tie loose around his neck, and hair messy from a long day at work. He drops his keys on the counter, letting out a sigh before he catches sight of you leaning against the kitchen island.
you stood there, clutching a glass of water in an effort to distract yourself from the way your stomach flips every time you see him.
"Hey, princess," he greets, his deep voice tinged with affection as he crosses the room in a few easy strides.
He reaches you, his hands immediately finding your waist like they always do, and presses a soft, casual kiss to your lips.
You're breathless by the time he pulls away, though he doesn't notice, already moving toward the fridge. "Miss me?" he teases lightly, throwing a glance over his shoulder as he grabs a water bottle.
"Always," you mumble, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. He shoots you a quick grin, but you can tell he doesn't think much of it. He's too busy twisting the cap off the bottle and leaning against the counter opposite you, taking a long sip.
"So," he starts, setting the bottle down and resting one hand on the counter behind him. "Dad had me running in circles all day. He's got this big deal he's working on, and guess who got stuck doing all the legwork."
You nod along, trying to seem like you're listening, but your eyes keep drifting to the way his chest looked with the first few buttons open, the way his throat moves when he talks. His voice, low and casual, is like a drug, making your pulse race.
He's oblivious to your inner turmoil, stepping closer to you as he continues talking. His hands naturally find your waist again as he leans in slightly, not because he's trying to fluster you, but because it's just second nature for him to be close to you.
"And then-" His words trail off as, without even thinking, he lifts you effortlessly onto the counter. The movement is so smooth, so casual, that it barely registers for him.
But for you, it's like a spark to a flame.
Your breath hitches as he sets you down, his hands still lingering on your hips.
He doesn't notice, though. He's still talking, still distracted, one hand on the counter beside you and the other lazily brushing against your hip.
It's too much. You can't take it anymore.
You slide forward slightly, your hips brushing against his, and suddenly, his voice falters.
He looks down at the contact, then back up at you, his expression flickering between confusion and realization.
"Oh," he breathes, his voice dropping an octave.
You feel like your face is on fire, but you can't stop yourself. Your hips roll gently, testing the waters, and you swear you see his jaw clench.
"Baby..." His tone shifts, softer, deeper.
His hands tighten on your hips as he steps closer, his body completely flush against yours now. "Why didn't you just tell me?"
You mumble something incoherent, too shy to respond, but the way his lips curve into a grin makes it clear he understands now.
He leans in closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, "Too shy, huh?" He chuckles softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.
His mouth trails down your jaw to your neck, peppering soft, teasing kisses along your skin. Each press of his lips leaves you breathless, and before you realize it, your hands are tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.
Your breathing grows heavier, the sensation of his lips on your neck too much and not enough all at once. A quiet sound escapes your lips, a soft moan that you can't hold back, and he freezes for a moment.
"Alright," he murmurs, his voice dropping further as he effortlessly lifts you off the counter and walks towards the bedroom. "Let me take care of you."
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Authors Note~ I was thinking If there could be a part 2 for this…and if there could..how would it be? LEMME KNOW IF I SHOULD MAKE ONE💗
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yawnderu · 6 months ago
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A one-night stand with Simon completely ruins you for any other man.
His hands are forever tainted with blood and sin, yet despite the callouses adorning the rough skin, Simon’s touch is uncharacteristically gentle for someone his size, nearing a dangerous softness that has your heart beating faster by the second. 
His grip on your hips tightens, pulling you down onto his thick, hard cock, the flared tip slamming into the depths of your cunt, every single sensitive spot stimulated, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing through the dimly lit room, mingling with your moans.
“Look at you.” His deep voice is thick with approval, tired eyes tracing the line of your collarbone, the swell of your tits, the curve of your waist, admiring you like you're nothing short of a work of art. So fucking perfect, and all his for the night. 
“Fuckin’ beautiful.” More than death’s instrument, Simon Riley is just a man, unable to resist temptation— unable to resist the pleading look in your eyes, silently begging for more. His grip on your hips falters, one of his hands trailing up your sweaty, warm skin, pulling you down until your face finds shelter on the crook of his neck, your soft lips hovering over his pulse, a silent display of trust given with such ease to a complete stranger. 
He pulled back and thrust inside you again, setting a less brutal rhythm, nothing in his hazy mind but the goal of making you cum first.  He couldn’t help but reach between your bodies, applying light pressure on your swollen clit as he fucked you deeper, his thick tip ramming against your cervix over and over, his breath hot against your skin with each groan leaving his lips.
His free hand comes up to grasp your jaw, fingers lightly digging into the skin as he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a primal dance of lust. The bitter taste of tobacco and bourbon in his saliva makes you whine, your soft hands coming up to cup his cheeks, half-lidded brown eyes meeting your gaze when you pull away.
“Fuck… gonna cum.” Simon’s breath grows heavier at the pure hunger in your eyes, dancing along a vulnerability he wasn’t used to. Amid the pleasure coiling in your stomach, your hips begin to move to match his intense pace, meeting his thrusts halfway. Simon’s thumb presses harder against your swollen clit, circling it slowly, your walls tightening around his aching cock, dragging a quiet, muffled moan out of him.
“That’s it, sweetheart, cum for me.” Simon’s voice quivers as he lets out a low groan, his free hand going down to grab a handful of your ass, the fat and muscle seeping through his fingers when he squeezes. He pushes deeper into you, trying to reach that blissful peak you both crave. His thrusts grow more desperate, a familiar tightness in his lower stomach threatening to make him cum, using your body as leverage to fuck into you harder, deeper. 
“Oh… oh, fuck.” His cock twitches at your whiny moans, your walls growing even tighter around him, eyes rolling back as you finally collapse on top of him, heavy breaths leaving those soft lips he has grown to adore. Simon follows right after, unable to hold himself back, burying his cock inside you as deep as possible. Ropes of thick, hot cum paint your insides, marking you as his, even if only for that night. 
“You okay?” He tucked your face into his neck, allowing you to breathe in his scent— cigarettes, gunpowder, and the faint smell of licorice. He leaned down, pressing tender kisses all over your forehead and cheeks, not minding the thin layer of sweat coating your skin. His hands are warm and gentle, running up and down your back as you both catch your breath, giving you time to recover. 
“Mhm.” He pulled out of you slowly, tugging you into his side, his hand drifting down to your belly, rubbing circles on the tender skin to soothe you, his other hand pulling you closer, the aftermath of your passion lingering between you. Your fingers linger on his side, hesitantly running up and down, feeling the multiple bumps from old scars, gently rubbing a particularly bad set over his ribs.  His breath hitches, yet he remains quiet, allowing you to have all of him.
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bblairxe · 22 days ago
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for this request   .ᐟ 
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“please cait, i can’t — fuck,” 
    cait’s been overstimulating you for hours, her dark blue strap pounding into you over and over like a broken record. she takes both of your wrist in one hand, pinning them above your head. “come on darling, just one more for me, yeah?” she coos, her accent coming out thick with her words. 
    your only protest comes out as a whine. every ounce of strength in your body has dissipated due to the overwhelming feeling of pleasure. your thighs are wrapped around caitlyn’s back loosely, giving you something to hold on to. 
     her pace slows down for a moment, those fast, harsh thrust turned into something slower and deeper. at this rate, you can feel every inch of her plunging in and out of you. her faux cock kissing that gummy spot inside of you with each movement of her hips.
    “nghh, cait. you’re so, so deep, fuck,” you look up to see her piercing blue eyes analyzing your features. her gentle expression much different than her current actions. 
     your hands are released from cait’s grip and you instantly go to grip the soft sheet underneath you. her head drops low, hanging right in the crook of your neck. you feel her pace falter, becoming uneven, noticing she’s grinding up into you instead of plunging.
    she doesn’t reply to your lewd comment, no, she’s more focused now, and you can hear a slight whimper every time she rolls her hips into you. 
   “ah - mmmph , you feel so good, love. just stay like this, please.” her voice is much softer and breathier, causing her last words come out more as a whine then a demand. 
    you were shocked at her words to say the least, specifically at her desperation. caitlynn was not one to ask for what she wants, let alone beg. whenever she wanted something she got it, simple as that. so, you take this opportunity to test the waters, and flip things around. 
    “gonna cum for me? make a mess all over me, commander?” you manage, making your voice sound more silky and sultry. 
    and to your surprise, it works. another high pitched noise escapes her throat. her face is flushed, embarrassed by how much of an effect your words have on her. 
    you’re so lost in cait’s body language, you almost forget about your own. you feel that band in your lower stomach threatening to snap, growing closer and closer every passing second. your body falls limp against the bed, completely letting cait use you for her own pleasure. 
   “i’m so close, dear. i’m about to, ah - fuck !” her hips stop their movements, and she falls into you. her orgasm colliding with yours as a waterfall of juices gush onto the sheets. 
the two of you lay down there a couple of moments, trying to catch your breath from the euphoric feeling. she doesn’t pull out yet, she just stays buried deep into you, kissing along your collarbones. 
“wanna go again, commander?”
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sorry it took me so long :( @ellieslosttwofingers
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moirasdolly · 2 months ago
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˚ ⋆゚୨୧ Princess Treatment ୨୧ ˚ ⋆゚Sevika x Fem Reader
Synopsis: How can Sevika focus on a word you’re saying when your lips just look so kissable? She just wants to take you home and spoil you…
Contains: NSFW (minors and men dni), biting, lots of hickies, sevika eats reader out, strap on sex mwahhh, reader gets princess treatment
Listening to ♪ ིྀ: The Party & The After Party - The Weeknd
Notes: Sorry it’s been so long T^T, I’ve been really struggling with writing and I’m not even confident or necessarily happy with this either. I hope you guys enjoy it regardless <\3 I totally didn’t write this because i’m projecting (I want Sevika so bad)
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Your sweet voice that flowed from between your lips like syrup were all Sevika could even think about as you sat in her lap at The Last Drop. Her flesh arm wrapped tenderly around your waist and the mechanical one draped across the bar counter, shielding you from any drunkard who might bump into you. Even though it was already winding down and there were few patrons left in the bar, she would never leave you exposed. She didn’t retain a single word you were speaking though, she was too focused on the tone of your voice, the way your hands flailed wildly as you explained whatever story you were telling, and most importantly your perfectly pouty lips.
Thieram stood behind the counter listening intently, nodding his head at every little detail of your story along with Ran who would throw out a comment every so often. “…and you would not believe it… I slipped on a banana peel!” You could barely even get through your sentence without breaking out into a fit of giggles. You buried your face in your hands, tears threatening to spill over because of your laughter. The laughter of the whole group snapped Sevika out of her daze and she forced out a chuckle at your antics. It wasn’t that she didn’t find your story interesting, she just couldn’t help but get lost in your whole being.
You picked up on her behavior and shot her a look over your shoulder. You furrowed your brows gently and your lips fell into a little frown as you looked into her gray eyes. She looked up at you through her lashes as apologetically as she could before planting a soft kiss on your cheek. You’d let it slide for now, but when you got home you’d be sure to question her.
The rest of the night went off without a hitch, and Sevika made sure to actually contribute to the conversations. You had almost forgotten about her earlier slip up, until the same thing happened again. You were mid sentence when you noticed Sevika hadn’t said anything for the longest time, but her grip was beginning to tighten on you. Her arm had moved slightly lower to wrap around your hip instead, her large hand mindlessly rubbed small circles into the flesh exposed by your shorts. Your words faltered at her touch and you fumbled over your sentence. Your hand rested over her own before gliding it down to rest on your thigh instead. You kept a watchful eye on her to make sure she didn’t try anything before the night was over.
Unfortunately, it was getting late and everyone was growing tired. You four were the only other ones in the bar since it was pretty late into the night. Thieram didn’t want to kick you guys out, but he did have to close up the bar sooner or later.  “It was nice seeing everyone again! Maybe next time we could play a few rounds of pool?” You planted your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side slightly awaiting an answer from your close friends. “Only if you plan to lose.” Ran quipped back. You feigned disbelief, raising a hand to your chest and gasping. “You’ll be eating your words Ran, remember this moment.”
This got a real chuckle out of Sevika this time. She slid her flesh arm around your waist and tugged you closer to her. “I bet on my princess, sorry Ran.” They dismissed the rest of the group with a wave of their hand, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.” It was all lighthearted though, you saw the corner of their lips tug up into a smile before turning to make their leave. Now it was just Thieram, Sevika and yourself outside of the bar. The young man bid you farewell before stepping back inside the establishment for his closing duties.
A comfortable silence settled over you as you began the walk back to your shared home. Now that it was just the two of you alone though, you wanted to prod her about her seemingly not paying attention to you. “Sev… How come you weren’t listening to a word I said tonight?” You tried to keep the pout off your lips, you really did, but you were kind of irritated with her. Sevika looked like a deer caught in headlights, like she didn’t quite know how to explain herself. You stopped in your tracks, waiting for her to talk. “I’m not moving ‘til you tell me.” You knew you were being stubborn, but you thought you deserved an explanation. If there was something on her mind, you wanted to know.
The older woman could most definitely overpower you to keep you walking, but instead she stopped the moment you did. Her arm was still wrapped around your waist but she turned to face you. You were staring up at her with those big, beautiful eyes of yours and she couldn’t help but get lost in your features. You were feeling shy under her gaze, your cheeks flushing uncontrollably. She brought her flesh hand up to your face, gripping your chin between her thumb and index finger gently. “Princess, I’m sorry you’re just too beautiful. I was so mesmerized by your sweet voice I could barely process what you were saying tonight.” Well you couldn’t be mad at that explanation.
“I was just thinking about how much more sweet you’d sound under me, begging for more.” She angled your head up slightly higher before capturing your lips in a kiss that was far too quick for your liking. When she parted from you, you tried to chase after her lips eagerly just wanting to feel her against you again. “Why don’t we get home first?” She murmured. All previous thoughts you had were no longer present and instead all you could think about was getting home as quickly as possible. You nodded slowly and you two continued down the path to home.
Your home wasn’t the closest to The Last Drop and your legs were getting tired, but you didn’t want to complain. Your pace was beginning to slow, the shoes you had decided on were not the most comfortable, but you weren't thinking about the walk home when you chose your attire for the night. The gentlewoman that Sevika was, had noticed your discomfort and scooped you up into her arms. No matter how many times she did it, it made you gasp still. “Sevi!” You wrapped your arms around her neck as an automatic response and she just chuckled. “I can’t have my princess feeling tired before we even get home.”
The implications of that were enough to make your cheeks flush again, and you were practically buzzing in her arms with anticipation.
The rest of the walk home was filled with sweet idle conversation, although it was mostly you rambling away like always while Sevika listened intently. She couldn’t get enough of you and your honeyed tone.
Your shared home was slowly coming into view and you huffed prematurely, knowing she’d have to set you down to get the door open. “Sweet girl, I’m going to get this door open, but you’ll be in my arms again in no time.” Your feet hit the ground for the first time in a while, but you felt well rested thanks to your thoughtful girlfriend.
“Thank you baby.” You drew out the pet name as she opened the door, whisking you inside before locking it behind you. Before you could even get another word out you were in her strong arms once more. Her flesh arm cradled your back and her mechanical arm hooked under your thighs as she carried you bridal style to the bedroom. Your sweet giggles filled Sevika’s ears as she planted about a dozen soft kisses all over your face.
The next time you were put down you felt fuzzy blankets beneath your body as you sank into the bed. Sevika propped herself up with her mechanical arm and snuck her knee between your thighs gently, chuckling at your eagerness to feel her when you squeezed your legs around her limb. Her gray eyes peered down at you, heavy lidded with lust and adoration for you, her perfect, angelic sweetheart. “Fuck, I wish you could see just how beautiful you look under me right now.” Her gray, puppy dog eyes met your own and you couldn’t take it anymore. The way they glimmered down at you made you want her even more. You snaked your arms around her neck and tugged her down to meet your lips in a heated kiss.
Your tongue swiped over her bottom lip briefly before prodding into her mouth. If you weren’t listening so intently you would have missed the tiny groan that emanated from her throat. You wanted to hear more, so with all your strength you pushed her to the side and flipped your positions. Sevika definitely let you, otherwise you would have stayed snuggly under her due to the difference in strength.
Your legs rested on either side of her hips and your head dipped down to her jaw to press several feather light kisses to her skin. Whatever was left of your pink lipgloss transferred to her jawline and you loved how your kiss marks looked on her tanned skin. 
She was enjoying your kisses even more than you though. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were fluttering shut every so often to bask in the feeling. The next time your plump lips met her skin, it was on the tender patch of skin in the middle of her throat. You placed one kiss, two kisses, and on the third one you sucked a small bruise into her skin. Her deep moans vibrated on your lips and you felt like you couldn’t get enough of her. “Baby I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” She chuckled in between moans.
Those soft lips of yours curled into a smile as you peered down at all your hard work. Her neck was littered with evidence of your affection. Dark purples and reds were blooming all across the expanse of her supple skin. “You can do whatever you want to me… just let me have my fun first.” You whispered into her ear, your teeth nipping her lobe.
“Whatever my princess wants, she gets.”
What you wanted to do was leave her neck completely covered in love bites, so that she’d have to wear turtlenecks out for the next two weeks. And you were on the right track for that. Sevika would never admit it out loud, even though you’ve witnessed it before, but just being kissed and bitten by you was enough for her to cum in her pants. She got off on how desperate you were to mark her and show everyone she was yours just as much as you were hers.
You slipped your hands under her cropped shirt, sliding it up her toned stomach. Her breasts sprang free and you adjusted yourself lower on her body to give them soft kisses before taking one of her nipples into your mouth. Her breathing grew heavier as you sucked little bruises into her breasts. Little grunts and sighs escaped her lips and a devilish idea presented itself to you. You nipped her nipple with your teeth as you kneaded her other breast softly. You began grinding on her, the friction felt unbelievably good for the both of you. Her body was growing taut at the sensation and in no time you had her cumming with a string of moans.
“Fuck, princess your mouth is heaven on earth…” She trailed off after taking a deep breath. 
You tried containing your smile, but you felt rather accomplished for making her cum with nothing but your mouth on her. “You’re so sensitive, who knew that’s all it would take.”
“Well it’s easy to give in when I have the most beautiful woman in the world sitting on top of me.” Her charming words made your heart melt and you couldn’t help but lean down to kiss her for the millionth time. Unfortunately for you, the kiss was cut short by Sevika pulling away.
“I think it’s time to spoil my baby.”
Her flesh arm flipped you over, your back hitting the bed as she caged you underneath her broad body. A squeal escaped your lips at the sudden move and Sevika ate up your little noises as she captured your lips in a fervent kiss. Your hands instantly found purchase on her muscular shoulders as you tried to pull her closer. Her mechanical hand had a bruising grip on your hip, and the sting felt delicious. Her flesh hand was gentle, a complete contrast. She held your face like you were made of glass, her thumb caressing your blushed cheek. 
As much as she loved kissing your perfect, plump lips, she wanted her mouth on your body too. She took the hem of your shirt in between her fingers and ripped it off of you. No time was wasted as she unclasped your bra as well, throwing it somewhere in the room. Her lips trailed heated kisses down your jaw, across your throat, and all across your chest. Dark lipstick was littered across your whole upper body, and it was almost making the older woman malfunction. If she could, she’d take a picture and keep it in her wallet. You were the epitome of beauty to her always, but in that moment you looked like an angel, all sprawled out for her with her marks all over you.
“Sevika… Don’t just look, touch me. Please…” You whined softly, if you weren’t so turned on you’d cringe at how needy you sounded.
She shot you a toothy grin, “I know baby, let’s get these off of you.” She tugged at the waistband of your little shorts, pulling them down your thighs, and fully off your legs. Next were the lacy panties you knew Sevika liked. She pressed a kiss to the little bow in the center of your panties before discarding those as well. The cold air hit your body and you shivered at the feeling. 
“Come warm me up, Sevi.” 
That’s all she needed to hear before hiking your thighs up on her shoulders before delving into your glistening cunt. She gave your clit a quick kiss before flattening her tongue against you.You mewled at the sensation of her thick, long tongue brushing against your aching clit. She had barely even touched you and you already felt a familiar feeling building in your stomach. Your body was something she knew eerily well, she knew all the spots that made you tick, the pressure that made you see stars, and just the way to swirl her tongue to make you clench those beautiful thighs around her head.
“Fuck baby, you taste so good, my sweetheart.” 
She lapped at your cunt like she was drunk on the taste of you. Her tongue slipped into you, deep. Reaching places only she could. Your thighs clamped down around her head, and that’s exactly where she wanted to be, buried between the soft flesh.
She was relentless when you came with a long string of filthy moans of her name. It just spurred her on even more until you were twitching under her, feeling overstimulated. When she came up for air, she licked her lips which were slick with your release. Her eyes met your own as she wiped her mouth before leaning to kiss down your thighs once more. Her tongue ghosted over your sensitive flesh before she moved away to let you recover for a moment.
Your body laid limp on the bed as Sevika rubbed small circles on your waist to bring you back to earth. “Can you give me another, princess?” Her flesh hand found its way to your face again, her thumb slipping past your lips. You nodded your head slowly, your hazy eyes finding hers.
“Words baby.” She reminded you.
“Yes, Sevi. I can take it.” Your voice was muffled slightly by her digit, but it was clear you wanted whatever she’d give you. 
She slipped off the bed to retrieve her strap, slipping into the black harness that made your mouth water. The bed dipped under her weight as she climbed onto the bed once more, returning to her rightful place between your legs again. If Sevika was one thing in bed, it was appreciative. She took in your beautiful form inch by inch, her eyes scanning your body like it was a piece of art. Her demeanor was rough and mean with everyone and if you were honest, it turned you on completely. But she wasn’t like that with you, she treated you with care as if you were made of porcelain. Her touches were tender, making your comfort her highest regard. You truly were her princess
The tip of her silicone length rested against your soaked pussy, and you knew she wasn’t trying to tease, but you just wished she’d move. You bucked your hips with what energy you had left to receive a bit of friction, and all Sevika could do was chuckle at how needy you were. She took your movements as a sign to guide the dark purple length into you. Calloused hands guided your plush thighs to wrap around her waist gently. You squeezed your thighs around her as she disappeared into you little by little.
Her eyes trailed down to where you two were connected before trailing back up to look into your hazy eyes. Your lashes were lined with crystalline tears, collecting like little dewdrops on your lashes. 
“You’re taking me so good, sweetheart.” Sevika rasped, leaning down to kiss away your tears. “D’ya think you can handle me moving?”
A lewd whimper left your lips, and you didn’t quite trust your voice to not crack when you spoke. The best you could muster out was a little, “Please.” 
God, you sounded so blissed out, it was taking every bone in the older woman’s body to not fuck you silly into the mattress. She started with slow and controlled rolls of her hips into your cunt. You wrapped your arms around her broad back, pulling her flush against you. You couldn’t help but press soft kisses onto the little bruises you created on her from earlier. She sucked in a breath as you kissed a particularly sore spot. You let your teeth graze her neck, nipping at her ever so slightly.
Her hips stuttered initially as you bit her, but she picked up her movement, moving faster than before. Soft grunts were amplified in your ears and it was almost all you could focus on. If it weren’t for the thick toy being stuffed into you, you would have said something about the noises she was making. Her huffs vibrated against your ear lobe and on a particularly deep thrust she moaned like she could feel your cunt clenching around the toy.
“Baby you’re squeezing me so hard, so perfect.” She just couldn’t keep her hands to herself either. One hand rested on your waist and the other trailed down your stomach to your clit. She rubbed slow circles on your already sensitive clit and you couldn’t take it. The feeling of her quick, deep thrusts along with the additional stimulation was sending you reeling. 
You were just putty in her hands, babbling nonsense that resembled her name and various curse words. You couldn’t even hold your head up anymore, instead letting it hit the soft pillows beneath you. Sevika took the chance to kiss up your neck slowly, paying attention to every bit of exposed skin she could get to. By now her lipstick was already rubbed off, but you could still feel every mark she left on you. You wouldn’t trade the feeling for the world.
“Fuck!” You squealed out as she snapped her hips into you at an even more brutal pace. “‘M so close Sevi!” You could barely form a full sentence the way she was ruining you. Without warning your body stiffened and you were cumming. She didn’t slow down though, she kept her pace up as you twitched around her thick length. She pushed herself up from where she was trailing kisses all over your neck to see the rest of you. Your lips were plump and parted, lewd whimpers falling from them like that’s all you knew how to do. Your hair was messy, neck filled with bruises to match her own, and your chest was full of lipstick marks. You were completely hers, and you had the marks to prove it too.
Her eyes trailed down to where you were taking her so well, “Look at how it disappears baby, you were made for me.” Her words were filthy, and her eyes were full of lust as she saw the creamy white ring forming around the base of the toy.
Your brows furrowed as you began to feel overstimulated once more, and Sevika being the attentive woman she was, took it as a sign to slow down. Eventually she slid out of you, and you sighed at the empty feeling. Your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to catch your breath. Sevika pressed soft little kisses to both of your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, and finally a quick one to your lips, not wanting to tire you out anymore than you already were. “You did so good for me, princess.” She whispered into your ear as she brought her flesh hand to cup your face.
“Gonna clean you up now, is that okay?” 
You nodded slowly, your eyes still shut as she untangled herself from between your thighs to clean herself up and retrieve a washcloth for you. When she returned she was in a fresh pair of pajamas and her hair was down. You opened your eyes to take in the sight when you heard her footsteps again. “So cute.” You whispered with a giggle. To everyone in Zaun she was a scary lady, but to you she was your sweet girlfriend who wore big t-shirts and fuzzy pajama bottoms to bed. She just shook her head with a soft smile and settled onto the edge of the bed near your legs. You spread your legs for her and she wiped the inside of your thighs and your sensitive folds. A sigh slipped past your lips and she planted a kiss on your lips as she cleaned every last bit of you. “All clean…” She tossed the washcloth somewhere in the room, she’d put it in the wash tomorrow.
It wasn’t that Sevika wanted to see you in her clothes… of course not! She just wanted you to be warm, that’s all. That’s what she told herself as she slipped one of her sleep shirts over your head. Her heart melted when you poked your head out of the opening of the shirt and met her eyes. She couldn’t resist giving you another kiss. You smiled against her lips before she pulled back to slip a pair of your panties up your thighs and up onto your hips.
The moment you were clothed you dove under the covers, waving a lazy hand to make Sevika join you. Once she did you clung to her tightly, tucking your head under her chin to rest on her chest. Her warm body heated you up, and your eyes fluttered shut. “You sleepy, baby?” Sevika asked even though she already knew the answer.
You hummed a noncommittal noise, just opting to burrow closer to Sevika if that was even possible.
“I tired you out today huh…” 
When she got no response from you she kissed the top of your head and let her eyes shut slowly too. Sleep came easy to her when she had her princess wrapped up in arms.
2K notes · View notes
winxanity-ii · 4 months ago
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SINS OF DEVOTION [2/3]
ship: father charlie x fem!nun!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (p in v ; fem. receiving hand-job/fingering; overstimulation; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery) word count: 3.6k a/n: wasn't planning on expanding the one-shot, but here we are. i literally stayed up 7+ hours to write this just cuz i got a bunch of praise in the notes 😩 i'm weak... anywho this is a continuation of my previous one-shot, '𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.' If you haven't read that yet, I recommend starting there to understand the progression of their relationship….final part: 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲‌🇦‌��‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★
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Ever since that night, you couldn't look Father Charlie in the eyes. How could you, when the man—the symbol of the glory of the Father above—had been buried between your thighs like a man starved?
Just looking at him brought back all the feelings, the emotions that twisted and churned inside you, leaving you breathless and overwhelmed.
Every time you saw him in the chapel, his gaze lingering on you from across the room, your heart would race, your skin tingling with the memory of his touch.
You would try to focus on your duties, your prayers, but the image of him kneeling before you, his mouth claiming every part of you, would flash in your mind, making you falter. Your hands would tremble, your voice would break, and you would feel heat rising in your cheeks, knowing he was watching you.
And he was always watching you.
His eyes would find yours whenever you entered a room, his gaze dark and intent, filled with a hunger that hadn't diminished in the slightest since that stormy night.
You could feel it even from a distance—the way his eyes seemed to follow your every movement, as if he was marking you as his. It made your breath catch, your body reacting in ways you couldn't control, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through you.
It was a regular Sunday mass when he finally cornered you; a neighboring pastor was visiting, giving a sermon, while you were cleaning out one of the confessionals.
The faint sound of the sermon echoed in the background, the low, rhythmic cadence of the visiting pastor's voice carrying through the church. You were kneeling on the ground, scrubbing the tiles, your sleeves rolled up to keep them out of the soapy water.
The scent of cleaning solution hung in the air as you worked, your humming soft, almost absent-minded, a gentle hymn that you barely even noticed yourself singing.
You were so absorbed in your task that you didn't notice the shadow fall over you until it was too late. You looked up, startled, your eyes widening as you tried to regain your composure.
"I'm sorry, this confessional booth is out of commission at the moment, I'm cleaning—" Your words trailed off as your gaze traveled upward, and your breath caught in your throat when you realized who was standing there.
It was Father Charlie.
His presence filled the small space, and you could feel the air grow heavy around you, your pulse quickening as his eyes locked onto yours. There was something about the way he looked at you—something dark and knowing—that made your heart pound, your hands freezing where they rested on the damp cloth.
The brush slipped from your fingers, falling back into the soapy water with a splash that sprayed droplets onto the floor and your habit, snapping you out of your daze. You stuttered, "F-Father Charlie," quickly standing up, giving a short bow. "Blessed Sunday morning, Father."
Charlie's lips twitched up into a smile as he stepped further into the cramped confessional booth, the door closing with a soft click behind him. "Blessed Sunday to you as well, Sister ____."
Your eyes flickered to his lips, your breath catching as your mind flashed back to how he had used that very mouth to bring you to the brink of pleasure—his lips, his tongue, every sinful movement etched into your memory. You swallowed hard, your face warming at the thought, your hands fidgeting as you struggled to look anywhere but at him.
You cleared your throat, your voice coming out small. "Is there... is there anything I can do for you, Father?"
Charlie hummed thoughtfully, taking another step closer until he was right in front of you, the space between you almost nonexistent.
Your gaze dropped to his chest, the black fabric of his cassock filling your vision, the scent of him overwhelming—something warm and clean, with a hint of incense. You could feel your heart pounding, your breath hitching as he spoke, his voice low and deep.
"There are many things you could do for me, Sister," he murmured, his tone shifting, darkening, as his lips curled into a smirk. "We could pray... or perhaps," he paused, his eyes glinting as his voice dropped even lower, "you could help me find a different kind of release."
Your eyes widened at the crude implication, your gaze shooting up to meet his, only to find him already watching your face, his eyes hooded and dark, filled with a hunger that made your stomach twist.
You felt heat pooling low in your belly, the tension in the small space between you almost unbearable. You shook your head slightly, your voice coming out in a whisper, shaky and unsure. "Father Charlie, we shouldn't... we can't..."
Charlie didn't answer, not with words. Instead, he took another step forward, his body pressing against yours as he used his arms to cage you in, one hand bracing against the wall of the confessional beside your head. His other hand moved to cup your cheek, his fingers tilting your face upward, forcing you to meet his gaze.
You could feel his breath, warm against your skin, his face so close that your noses almost brushed. His eyes were dark, filled with something raw, something that made your knees feel weak.
He leaned in even closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his voice a whisper, almost pleading. "Do you know what you do to me, Sister? How you push me to sin, how you make me want things I shouldn't?"
His hand left your cheek, moving down to grab your wrist, guiding your hand between your bodies, pressing it firmly against the hardness straining beneath his cassock. Your breath caught in your throat, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you felt him, your eyes widening, your entire body tensing at the sensation.
"Feel that?" he whispered against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "That's what you do to me. Every time I see you, every time you look at me with those innocent eyes... you make me lose control."
You felt your heart racing, your mind spinning, a mix of fear and something else—something dark and thrilling—coursing through you as Father Charlie's hand held yours in place, his gaze locked onto yours, unrelenting, his lips brushing against yours in the barest of touches, waiting, coaxing you to give in.
Your thoughts raced. So many times since that night, you had fantasized about him, dreamed about him fully taking you, about giving in to the desires that had been eating away at you. But now, with him right in front of you, so desperate, so wanting, it made you dizzy.
You were a nun, a devoted daughter, a wife to the Lord—yet here you were, on the verge of surrendering. Your lips parted as you took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, trying to cling to the last shreds of your faith.
But then you licked your lips, and you saw how his eyes immediately zeroed in on the movement, darkening with something almost primal. His gaze was intense, unblinking, and you felt the pull, the weight of his need, and it made something inside you snap.
With all the bravery you could muster, you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his.
It was soft, a gentle peck, barely more than a brush of your lips against his, but it was enough to make your heart race like you were running a marathon.
For a moment, you thought you could pull back, that this brief kiss could be enough to satisfy whatever it was burning between you.
But then Charlie groaned, the sound deep and raw, and before you could pull away, his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you back to him, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that made your knees weak. His tongue slipped between your parted lips, invading your mouth, exploring, tasting.
The kiss was nothing like your timid attempt—it was fierce, overwhelming, consuming.
You felt his tongue caressing the inside of your mouth, tracing the shape of your teeth, stroking your own tongue, coaxing it to move with his. He moved slowly, deliberately, as if he had all the time in the world, as if he was savoring every second, every taste.
You felt your head grow light from the lack of air, your body trembling, but still, you were locked in the kiss, unable to pull away, unable to do anything but respond to him.
Your hands moved of their own accord, one of them gripping the front of his cassock, the other reaching up to tangle in his hair. The soft strands slipped through your fingers, and you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the way his body seemed to hum with tension, with need.
Charlie's other hand moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the hard lines of his body pressing into yours, the heat of him searing through the thin fabric of your habit. It made you feel like you were drowning in him, in his touch, his taste.
You whimpered against his lips, the sound muffled by the kiss, and he responded with a low growl, his hand tightening on your waist, his lips moving more insistently against yours.
Charlie pulled back, his forehead resting against yours as he panted, his breath hot and heavy, mingling with your own. His eyes were dark, filled with something raw and unrestrained, and he let out a low groan, his voice rough with desire. "I wish so badly to mark you up, to strip you down right here and lose myself in you," he murmured, his words sending a shiver down your spine. The explicitness of his words made your cheeks burn, your face flushing as you pressed it into his neck, trying to hide your embarrassment.
But he wasn't done. He tilted your chin back up, his thumb brushing over your flushed cheek, his eyes searching yours. "But it's too risky," he whispered, his voice filled with regret, and something almost feral. "So I'll settle for something much quicker."
As he spoke, his hands moved down, fingers traveling lower, bunching up the fabric of your tunic around your waist. His touch was frantic, almost desperate, his hands squeezing and kneading every inch of you he could reach, as if he couldn't get enough.
You could feel his fingers digging into your thighs, your hips, pulling you closer, pressing you against him, and it made your head spin, made your body ache with a need you didn't quite understand.
Your hands trembled as they found their place on his shoulders, your fingers hesitating, curling slightly in the fabric of his cassock. You wanted to touch him the way he was touching you, to let your hands explore, but you were too shy, too overwhelmed.
The intensity of his presence, the way his body felt against yours, it all left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.
Charlie's gaze remained locked on yours, his eyes dark and filled with something raw, something that made your pulse quicken. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low murmur, almost a growl. "You don't have to be afraid... just let me take care of you."
Your breath hitched, your body tensing as you felt his hands venture lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. Your eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping your lips, but it was quickly swallowed by Charlie as he covered your mouth with his own, his lips moving against yours, silencing your small cries and whimpers.
His fingers moved with purpose, finding your most sensitive spot, rubbing slow circles against your clit. The sensation made your knees go weak, your body trembling against him as he worked you with an expertise that left you breathless.
You tried to pull away from the kiss, to catch your breath, but he wouldn't let you, his mouth insistent, his tongue coaxing yours to move with his, swallowing every sound you made.
Your hands clung to his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric as you felt his fingers slide lower, teasing your entrance before slowly pushing inside.
A muffled whimper escaped your throat, your body tensing at the intrusion, the sensation both strange and thrilling. He moved slowly, his fingers stretching you, coaxing your body to relax, to accept him. You could feel every movement, every inch as he filled you, his touch deliberate, patient.
His lips never left yours, his kiss growing deeper, more demanding, as if he could feel your hesitation and was trying to coax you further, to draw you into the darkness with him. He pulled back for just a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he spoke, his voice a low whisper, thick with desire. "You feel so good, Sister... so perfect. Just let go for me."
Before you could respond, before you could even catch your breath, his hand moved to your thigh, his fingers curling around your leg as he lifted it, wrapping it around his waist.
The new angle made everything more intense, his fingers sinking deeper, his thumb brushing against your clit, drawing a shuddering moan from your lips.
The warmth in your belly grew, turning into a small flame that licked at your insides, consuming every thought, every hesitation; your body responded to his touch, your hips moving against his hand, seeking more of the pleasure he was giving you.
Charlie's breathing grew shallow, his eyes darkening as he watched you, his gaze roaming over your flushed cheeks, the way your lips parted, the soft gasps escaping your throat.
Your thighs trembled, your body growing tense as you felt the pressure building, the sensation coiling tightly in your core, threatening to snap at any moment.
But just as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, just as the first waves of your orgasm began to crest, Charlie stopped. He pulled his fingers away, leaving you gasping, the sudden emptiness almost painful.
A soft, desperate whimper escaped your lips, your eyes fluttering open, wide and confused as you looked up at him.
He met your gaze, his lips curling into a wicked smile as he brought his fingers to his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours as he sucked them clean, his tongue swirling around each digit, savoring the taste of you. "You taste so sweet, Sister," he murmured, his voice thick with lust, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "I could spend all day between your thighs... but right now, I need something more."
He shifted, his hands moving to the waistband of his robe, shuffling the fabric around as he freed himself. You couldn't see anything, the fabric obscuring your view, but you felt it—the hard, heavy length of him brushing against your inner thigh, the sensation making your breath catch, your leg twitch involuntarily at the contact.
Charlie moved with a practiced ease, his hands gripping your hips as he shifted you, lifting you as if you weighed nothing.
Your back pressed against the wall of the confessional, the cold surface a stark contrast to the heat of his body. He adjusted his hold on you, his arms wrapping around your thighs, lifting them until both of your legs were hooked around his waist.
You felt exposed, vulnerable, the position leaving you completely at his mercy, but there was something about the way he looked at you, something in his eyes that made your heart race, made your body ache for more.
His gaze locked onto yours, his eyes filled with a mix of lust and something deeper, something that made your breath hitch, your fingers clinging to his shoulders as he held you up, pressing you against the wall. His forehead rested against yours for a moment, his breath warm against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper. "You drive me mad, Sister... Forgive me, I can't hold back any longer."
He adjusted his hold on you, one arm wrapping tightly around your waist, holding you up against the wall with ease while his other hand moved beneath the ruffled fabric of your habit.
Your legs hitched open wider, instinctively allowing him more access as you felt the warmth of his hand trailing up your inner thigh, his fingers brushing against your skin. The anticipation made your breath catch, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited, your body aching for his touch.
You gasped softly as you felt something blunt press against your clit, moving up and down your slit, the sensation different this time—firmer, hotter. You thought it was his fingers again, but then Charlie let out a soft sigh, a quiet, breathless "fuck" that made your eyes widen, the realization hitting you all at once.
He wasn't using his fingers. It was him, the hard length of him brushing against you, spreading your slickness as he moved, the pressure making your head spin, your body growing even wetter at the sinful, blasphemous intimacy of it.
His movements were slow, deliberate, his eyes locked on yours as if daring you to look away, to deny what was happening. But you couldn't—your gaze was trapped by his, your lips parted as soft whimpers escaped, the sound swallowed by the heavy air between you.
Charlie's breath grew more ragged, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Do you feel that, Sister? Do you see what you do to me?" His voice was thick with lust, his words a mixture of reverence and something far more depraved. He moved his hips, sliding himself against you, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body, making you moan softly, your fingers digging into his shoulders.
His lips moved to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin as he began to push inside you, his voice low and shaky as he muttered a scripture, the holy words twisted by the desire lacing his tone. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..." His voice trailed off into a deep, guttural groan as he sank deeper, the stretch almost too much, a sharp burn that made you gasp, your eyes squeezing shut as your body struggled to adjust to him.
Charlie paused for a moment, his forehead resting against yours once again, his breathing heavy, his eyes searching your face as if looking for any sign of hesitation. But you were too lost in the sensation—the way he filled you, the way your body seemed to mold around him, the burn slowly giving way to something else, something that made your toes curl, your breath hitching as you nodded, a silent plea for him to keep going.
He smiled, a dark, almost tender smile, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, "Perfect." His hips moved again, slowly at first, his movements careful, deliberate, as he began to build a rhythm, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you, the feeling overwhelming, all-consuming.
And as you clung to him, your body trembling, you knew there was no turning back, no escaping the hold he had on you.
The two of you got lost in one another, the heat between you burning like a fire, desire crackling like embers, growing hotter with every movement. Charlie's pace quickened, his breaths coming out in harsh pants, his groans muffled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body pressing against yours as if he couldn't get close enough.
The rhythm of his thrusts grew more erratic, each one more desperate than the last, the intensity making your head spin, the pleasure building until it was almost too much.
You could hear him, his voice a mix of groans and soft, needy whines, his lips brushing against your neck, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. His hands gripped you tighter, holding you in place as he moved, the friction, the pressure, everything pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Your body tensed, your muscles clenching around him as the band inside you finally snapped, the pleasure washing over you in a blinding wave. You gasped, your head falling back against the wall, your eyes squeezing shut as your entire body trembled, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you clung to him, riding out the high.
Charlie shuddered in your arms, his own body tensing as he felt you tighten around him, his movements growing sloppy, desperate, until he finally stilled, his hips pressing against yours as he let out a low, guttural groan.
You felt the warmth of him spreading inside you, the sensation almost surreal, the realization that you had pushed him to this point, that you had made him lose control, making your heart pound even harder.
He stayed like that for a moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his eyes half-lidded as he looked at you, something almost soft in his gaze.
Slowly, he pulled away, his hands moving to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing against your flushed cheeks as he leaned in, his nose bumping gently against yours, a small, tender gesture that made your heart swell.
Charlie's eyes held yours, his gaze intense, filled with a mix of emotions that you couldn't quite decipher. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, his voice still thick with the remnants of his desire. "Pleasure is deceitful... as it was for the harlot, yet I cannot resist you."
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A/N: alright guys, chill with the praise and notes or i won't be able to get rest 😔🫶🏾🫶🏾jkjkjk keep them coming i'm a whore for them 🥴
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teddybeartoji · 8 months ago
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18+ mdni; gn!reader
oral fixation but it's biting instead of sucking. toji has noticed that you like to gnaw on your lip a lot – when you're deep in thought, when you're watching tv, scrolling on your phone, in bed. it's cute. teeth sinking into the soft flesh, eyes blown wide as he works his mouth on you. he can't tear his gaze from you – you're biting down so hard, toji thinks you're going to draw blood. you're desperate, you're needy, and you need more.
he often finds you chewing on your on fingers, too. playing with the sharp canines in your mouth, toji holds back a groan before fixing himself through his pants. it's not his fault you look so good all the fucking time! and the fact that you're doing it unconsciously too, is making his head spin.
you do that in bed as well. toji has learned that you're not trying to hold back your moans – your teeth itch. you need more. he can see the marks you leave on your own skin, how you drool all over the finger that's lodged between your fangs. you bite down harder and harder with every thrust he makes and it has him wondering how much it hurts. do you like the pain? can you even feel it, or is it just pleasure in your head? he needs to know.
so, with one quick move, he pulls your hand from your mouth and pushes his own pointer finger past your lips instead. his hips never falter and he fucking adores the way you try to focus on what he's doing; you're fighting the urge to just let your eyes roll back inside your head but now that his heavy finger sits on top your tongue, you cannot allow them to do so.
your mouth is so warm and wet, and toji twitches inside you. his own lips part as he stares down at your confused expression. you close your mouth around his finger, thinking that he wants you to suck it but no, no...
"bite." his voice is more hushed than usual and the knot in your tummy tightens. "i know ya want to."
hesitation pools in your eyes but he washes it away by leaning forward and pressing a haste kiss to your cheek. it's sloppy, it leaves a stain and a whine bubbles up from your throat. he stays close, his lips brush over your jaw – and that's all it takes for you to obey.
the hiss he let's out is addicting; he pulls back from you in an instant, his mossy eyes glued to your mouth. it doesn't hurt, not really – it's perfect. the roll of his hips slows as he tries to slide his finger between your teeth (he wants it to hurt a little more), he loves the way sharp edges scratch st his already rough skin and he loves the way you're staring up at him right now. a little scared that he'll stop, that he'll tease you, but he won't. not when it feels this good.
you bite down even harder and his hips buck forward at the sensation. his own eyes grow wide, surprised by how much it's affecting him and he grumbles something under his breath before picking up the pace again. you're leaving dents in his skin and you're drooling, you're squirming and twitching. you're so fucking pretty and fucked out and cockdrunk and you keep whining around his fingers and he's going to pump you so full that you're going to taste his cum<33333
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unconventional-lawnchair · 29 days ago
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Good boy, Pads
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Poly!Marauders x Reader {Mostly Padfoot x Reader}
Summary: Walking home alone is always scary. Not so bad with an attack dog.
WC: ~2.2k
CW: Being followed, Walking home alone, panic, reader is almost attacked
Part two {Masterlist}
“Goodnight, all!" You called over your shoulder, pushing through the heavy diner door and stepping into the crisp London night. The warm light from inside spilled onto the sidewalk for just a moment before the door swung shut, leaving you in the soft glow of streetlamps and the quiet hum of a city winding down.
Bundled up against the sharp autumn chill, you tugged your scarf higher over your nose, the wool muffling your breath as you glanced both ways down the street. The pavement glistened faintly from an earlier rain, and leaves skittered across the ground, carried by a gentle breeze. You smiled to yourself, enjoying the solitude of the evening and the faint scent of damp earth and fading smoke in the air.
The city felt quieter tonight, slower. A rare calm that let you notice the little things: the way your boots tapped against the pavement, the golden glow of light spilling from a pub window, the soft rustle of branches as the breeze carried more leaves to the ground. You couldn’t help but savor the peacefulness, the way the streets felt like they belonged only to you.
Turning onto a quieter side street, you pulled your coat tighter around you and let out a content sigh. The distant hum of a car engine and the occasional clink of bottles from an alley gave the city its usual heartbeat, steady and familiar. But as you passed under a flickering streetlight, the warmth in your chest faltered.
A flicker of something- movement- caught the corner of your eye. You stopped for a moment, glancing behind you. The street was empty, save for the faint shimmer of rain on the asphalt. You let out a quiet laugh at yourself, shaking your head as you started walking again. "You're imagining things," you muttered, the words misting into the cold air.
But as you rounded another corner, the feeling crept back. A weight you couldn’t explain settled between your shoulder blades, pressing until you glanced back again. This time, the street didn’t feel so empty.
A figure stood at the edge of the light, a shadow against the dim glow of a streetlamp. Hood pulled low, shoulders hunched. You couldn’t see his face, but the sight was enough to quicken your pulse.
You turned back quickly, trying to shake off the growing unease. It’s nothing. Just someone walking home, like you. Still, your steps grew faster, the sound of your boots sharper now as they echoed down the street.
The figure’s pace quickened too.
Your heart thundered in your chest, your breath puffing in the cold as you resisted the urge to turn around again. Don’t look back. Just keep walking. But the sound of his footsteps- deliberate, steady, too close- sent panic thrumming through you.
You turned sharply onto another street, one that was darker and quieter, hoping to lose him in the maze of side roads. But the sound of his steps followed, unyielding.
The knot in your stomach tightened as you risked a glance over your shoulder. The figure was closer now, his face still obscured, his movements calm and measured, as though he knew there was no need to rush.
You kept promising yourself it was all in your head. Every rationalization you’d ever heard about nights like this ran through your mind. He’s just trying to get home. You’re overthinking it. You’re being dramatic. The words looped, each one louder than the growing knot of fear in your chest.
In some lapse of judgment- or sheer stubbornness- you forced yourself to slow down, determined to prove your paranoia wrong. Your footsteps softened, your breath puffing out in measured exhales. See? Nothing’s wrong.
But the figure didn’t slow. His pace stayed steady, deliberate, and for a heartbeat, your stomach clenched.
Then, he walked right past you.
Your breath left you in a rush, relief crashing through you as you watched him slip into an alley just a few yards ahead, his dark silhouette disappearing into the shadows.
You’re so bloody dramatic, You scolded yourself, shaking your head as you tried to laugh off the tension still clinging to your spine.
Your legs felt heavy as you started walking again, still shaking off the tension that clung to you like the autumn chill. The sound of your boots echoed faintly against the damp pavement, the streetlights casting long shadows that seemed to stretch further with each step.
You’re fine. You’re fine. The mantra pulsed in your head, soothing your nerves just enough to keep moving forward.
But as you passed the mouth of the alley, a sharp sound- the scrape of a boot against concrete- made your heart stutter.
Before you could fully process it, the figure stepped out of the alley, sharp and purposeful. He moved with a predator’s focus, his hood still pulled low, but his intent painfully clear as he strode toward you.
Your body froze, fear locking every muscle in place as your breath hitched painfully in your throat. Your mind screamed at you to move, to run, to do anything- but before you could even find your voice-
A deep, guttural snarl tore through the night behind you, vibrating through the air like a clap of thunder.
You stumbled backward, your knees nearly buckling as something massive pressed between them with startling force. Looking down, your breath caught again.
A black dog- no, something far larger than any dog you’d ever seen- stood between your legs, its massive head low and its body tense, muscles rippling under its sleek fur. Its glowing eyes locked on the man in front of you, and its lips curled back in a snarl, revealing sharp, gleaming teeth. The beast exuded menace, an attack dog waiting for the signal to strike.
You didn’t dare move. The sheer size of it, the raw power in its stance, and the intensity of its focus made you feel as though the tiniest twitch would snap the tension in the air.
The black dog let out another terrifying snarl, its teeth snapping together with a ferocity that echoed in the quiet street. The man in front of you stumbled back a step, his hands flying up defensively as if the gesture could ward off the beast.
The force of the dog's lunge had nearly sent you sprawling, but you instinctively clung to its thick black collar, fingers curling around the studded leather as if it were a lifeline. Its massive frame remained steady beneath you, grounding you in a moment that felt anything but stable.
“Easy, easy,” You whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to calm your racing heart. It was ridiculous, you realized, trying to reason with a creature that clearly wasn’t just an ordinary dog.
The dog didn’t flinch at your voice, its glowing eyes locked on the man with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Slowly, the man began to retreat, his movements jerky and hesitant as he kept his gaze darting between you and the snarling beast.
“I- I wasn’t doing anything!” He stammered, his voice shaking as he took another step back.
The dog lunged again, snapping its jaws just short of the man’s retreating figure. The motion was controlled, calculated- a warning that left no room for doubt about what would happen if he didn’t leave.
The man’s nerve broke. With a muttered curse, he turned and bolted down the street, his footsteps echoing in the stillness until they faded completely.
The dog didn’t move for a long moment, its body still taut, ears pinned back as it watched the man disappear into the night. Only when it was satisfied he wasn’t returning did it finally relax, its snarling lips settling back over sharp teeth.
The air around you hung heavy with tension, your trembling fingers still clinging to the black dog’s studded collar. Its massive form didn’t waver, muscles coiled tight as its glowing eyes remained fixed on the direction the man had fled. You could feel the sheer power radiating off of it, its focus terrifying, its snarling lips now pressed firmly together.
Just as you began to catch your breath, a calm voice- low, steady, unfamiliar- broke through the night.
“Padfoot, heel.”
Your head snapped toward the sound, and from the shadows stepped a tall man, his figure shrouded in the dim glow of a nearby streetlamp. He moved with quiet confidence, his amber eyes soft yet sharp as they flicked from the dog to you. His presence was both reassuring and unnerving, as though he had always been there, watching from the edges.
The dog didn’t immediately obey, its ears twitching at the command but its gaze still locked down the street. A moment of silence stretched between the man, the beast, and you.
Then, another voice rang out, softer, almost playful. “You did good, mate. It’s okay now- she’s safe.”
The second figure emerged from the opposite side of the street, his dark hair catching the faint light that his glasses reflected- as he strolled closer with a casual ease. His hazel eyes glinted with sympathy, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he approached.
“Padfoot,” The second man coaxed, his tone softer now, almost affectionate. “Come on, you’ve scared him off. Time to let the lady breathe, yeah?”
The black dog- Padfoot?- finally relaxed, its tension melting away as it let out a low huff, almost as if in reluctant agreement. With one last glance down the empty street, it turned toward you, pressing its massive head against your thigh in an almost protective gesture.
The motion nearly knocked you off balance again, but you steadied yourself, your fingers still curled around the thick collar. You glanced between the two men, your mind racing to make sense of what was happening.
“What- what is this? Who are you?” You asked, your voice unsteady but edging toward firm. Still trying to calm down from the earlier events.
The first man, the one with warm amber eyes, stepped closer, his gaze flickering briefly to the dog before settling on you. “We’re just here to make sure you got home safely,” He said gently, his tone soothing.
“This… thing?” You asked, nodding toward the dog, though you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of its collar.
“Not a thing,” The second man interjected, his grin widening as he crouched next to the dog, running a hand through its fur. “This is Padfoot. And he did bloody brilliant, if I do say so myself.”
As if understanding the compliment, the dog let out a soft woof, its tail giving a single thump against the pavement.
The man looked up at you, his hazel eyes twinkling. “And I’m James, by the way. This,” He gestured to the amber-eyed man, “is Remus. We didn't mean to scare you, but thought a bit too quickly.”
The boys seemed to sense your lingering unease, their expressions softening as they exchanged a glance. Remus stepped forward slightly, his calm demeanor grounding the strange tension still hanging in the air.
“We’ll let you head home now,” he said gently, his voice low and soothing. “But if it makes you feel safer, Padfoot can walk with you. He’ll stay by your side until you’re safely inside.”
You glanced down at the massive black dog, still pressed protectively against your leg. His glowing eyes had softened, but the quiet strength in his stance told you he wasn’t going anywhere until you were safe. “He’ll… come back to you?” you asked hesitantly, your voice quiet.
James stepped closer, offering a warm, reassuring smile. “Always,” he said. “Just tell him to go, and he’ll know where to find us. He’s got a knack for it.”
You bit your lip, torn between wanting to dismiss their offer and the lingering unease that crept up your spine. The thought of walking home alone again made your stomach twist, and the steady presence of the dog at your side was a strange but undeniable comfort.
Remus’s amber eyes met yours, steady and kind. “You’re safe with him,” he murmured. “Padfoot won’t let anything happen to you.”
The dog huffed softly, as if to emphasize the point, and you felt a small, tentative smile tug at your lips despite the lingering fear. Slowly, you nodded. “Alright. I’ll take him. Just… until I’m home.”
James’s grin widened, a glint of relief in his hazel eyes. “Smart choice,” he said lightly, his tone warm but not overbearing.
Remus nodded, taking a step back toward the shadows. “Just keep him close. And when you’re inside, tell him to go. He’ll find us.”
Your gaze lingered on the two of them for a moment before you glanced down at the dog again. “Padfoot,” you murmured softly, testing the name. His ears perked up at the sound, his massive body shifting slightly closer to you as if ready to move.
James gave a small wave as he began to follow Remus into the shadows. “Take care, love. You’re in good hands- well, paws.”
You let out a shaky laugh, the tension in your chest loosening slightly as you turned to continue your walk. The dog- Padfoot- stayed close to your side, his presence a silent but steady comfort. Each step felt lighter, the earlier fear ebbing away with every reassuring glance at the hulking figure beside you.
The streets still held their eerie quiet, but you didn’t feel so alone anymore. London was still beautiful.
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morganaawriterr · 2 months ago
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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Unspoken Truths;
Pairing; fem!reader x loser boxer!Park Sunghoon Synopsis; Your best friend shows up at your door late at night with a bloody face. You lead him inside and take care of his wounds as the both of you try to ignore the growing tension between you. Warning; Suggestive; mentions of blood; sensitive!Sunghoon(sexy tension because Sunghoon has never seen you in pajamas?) My Masterlist;
A/N: I love this drabble so much :(( I love Sunghoon so much :(( Likes and reblogs are always appreciated, thank you so much <3
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When you unlocked your front door and found your best friend standing there, his elegant face stained with dark blood, your eyes immediately welled up with warm tears. Your hands trembled as a wave of nausea rose from your stomach to your throat.
Sunghoon stood in front of you with puppy eyes and pouty lips. Thick drops of blood dripped from a cut across his prominent nose. His eyes were swollen, with dark purple shadows beneath them, and his thick eyebrows were red with open wounds. Despite his battered appearance, as soon as his gaze locked with yours, he smiled—a genuine expression of relief.
He wasn’t sure why he had come to your house at such a late hour on a random Tuesday. He just needed to see you, to confirm with his own eyes that you were okay.
“Sunghoon…” you whispered, your voice cracking. “What happened?”
His response was subtle—his ears and neck flushed pink, and his smile faltered. Taking a step into your home, he wrapped his arms around your waist. His cold, strong embrace sent shivers racing across your skin. He leaned down, resting his head against your chest with a grip that felt desperate.
Your loose pajama shirt shifted slightly as he hugged you, the buttons slipping open to reveal a hint of your chest, though he seemed oblivious. As his nose caught the familiar scent of your warm skin and soft perfume, the tears he’d held back began to fall freely.
You had never seen Sunghoon cry before, so you knew something serious must have happened. He also knew how much you hated when he got into fights, yet here he was, battered and vulnerable at your door. Though he was strong and skilled in fighting, his emotions often betrayed him. And when he emotionally fights he becomes obsessed and weak.
After a long moment of soaking in your presence, Sunghoon lifted his head to meet your gaze. He noticed the small tears streaming down your cheeks, as if you were sharing his pain.
“It’s alright, Hoonie. It’s over now…” you murmured softly, your fingers brushing against his damp cheeks with tender care, hoping to relieve his pain.
At your soothing words, his arms tightened around you, and he buried his face in your chest again. Loud sobs filled the quiet room. You stepped back very slowly to close the door behind him, then stood patiently, allowing him the time he needed to calm down.
As his cries subsided, your hands never left his dark hair. Your fingers moved gently, massaging his scalp, while your lips pressed light kisses into his messy locks. Feeling his icy tears soak through your shirt and hearing his vulnerable sobs made it feel as though his pain was your own. Your own tears slowly rolled down your cheeks.
Minutes later, Sunghoon’s breathing had steadied, though his nose still bled, staining your gray pajama shirt.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” you said, gazing into his dark, expressive eyes. A familiar warmth stirred in your chest, the same feeling you tried to push away every time. Sunghoon always had that effect on you.
“Yeah, let’s go…” he replied softly, glancing down at the floor. He quickly removed his trainers before looking back at you, waiting for you to lead.
You giggled at his cute behaviour and took his hand, guiding him toward your small bathroom. Tonight, more than anything, he just wanted to stay close to you.
In the cramped, white-tiled bathroom, Sunghoon sat awkwardly on the toilet lid. He didn���t know what you were planning, but even if all you did was let him hold you for hours, he’d feel better.
You rummaged through the cabinet for your first-aid kit, knowing it had the essentials to clean his wounds. All the while, Sunghoon’s eyes followed your every movement.
It was the first time he’d seen you dressed so casually, and to him, the sight was mesmerizing. The way your pajama shirt lifted when you stretched, revealing a glimpse of your tummy, or how your loose pants sat low on your waist, perfectly hugging your attractive frame, made his heart race. He was already overwhelmed emotionally, and seeing you like this sent his hormones into overdrive.
He was stupidly in love with you, there was no denying that.
When you stepped out briefly to grab the kit, he exhaled deeply, trying to banish the scenarios in his head. But to his dismay, you returned just as quickly, the kit in hand.
You placed it on the sink, preparing some cotton soaked in alcohol. Standing between his parted legs, you leaned down to clean the cut on his nose, your movements careful and precise to avoid hurting him.
Sunghoon barely noticed the sting of the alcohol. His attention was fixed entirely on you—on your lips, softly bitten in concentration as you tended to his wounds. You were such an angel, so good to him…
He studied your face intently, his gaze tracing the careful lines of your expression. But soon, his wandering eyes drifted lower.
The neckline of your shirt had shifted further, and the undone buttons revealed more of your chest. Though you hadn’t meant to, the way you leaned forward gave him a view that made his breath hitch. The soft curves of your breast and the warm scent emanating from your neck left him dazed.
He felt his body grow even warmer, so he shifted his gaze elsewhere—only for his eyes to land back on your lips, now stained in a deep burgundy from how hard you were biting them. They looked irresistible, plump and glistening, tempting him beyond measure. As you carefully placed a small bandage on his nose, he murmured:
“I can’t do this anymore…”
Sunghoon gently tilted your chin downward, bringing your face closer so he could lock eyes with you. You looked down confused, your body getting warm to the feeling of his icy fingers on your face. His intense gaze seemed to reach straight into your soul, leaving you frozen and unable to look away.
Heat rose in your cheeks, and though you wanted to hide, you remained in place. His fingers held you firmly, keeping you exactly where he wanted. Sunghoon offered a faint smile before leaning in, pressing a soft, testing kiss to your lips.
They were gentle, warm, and utterly addictive. As soon as he pulled back, you instinctively leaned forward, seeking his touch again, desperate to reclaim the fluttering sensation in your chest. Your fingers slid into his dark hair, tugging lightly and drawing a soft groan from him. His thumb traced your flushed cheeks as his lips moved in sync with yours. When his tongue brushed against yours, you surrendered completely, letting the moment consume you.
The position wasn’t the most comfortable, so you shyly shifted onto his lap, settling on his firm thighs. When you finally parted to catch your breath, you straightened your back and looked down at him. His lips were reddened and glistening from your sensual abuse. Your eyes locked, and you reached out to cup his face, gently stroking his cheeks.
“Why did you get into a fight?” you asked softly, your voice tinged with concern. When he didn’t respond, pressing his lips together in hesitation, you added, “If you don’t want to tell me why, at least tell me what upset you so much.”
“He was talking badly about you,” Sunghoon finally admitted.
You held his gaze, waiting for him to say more, but he stayed quiet, his eyes lowering to your legs as you perched on his lap. The closeness seemed to make him nervous.
He didn’t want to repeat the cruel words the guy at boxing practice had said about you. Sunghoon couldn’t stand by while someone reduced you to a mere sex object, something so undeserving of your worth. When he confronted the guy, the taunts only escalated, pushing him over the edge. Sure, he walked away with a cut on his nose and a few bruises, but the other guy left with a broken nose and a swollen face. Sunghoon wasn’t about to tell you all that, though—he knew how much you hated his fights outside the ring.
“Promise me you won’t fight with those people again,” you said firmly, though your voice was soft. “Let them talk. I don’t care what they say about me, but I care about you. I hate seeing you hurt…”
Your words carried an unspoken confession, a hint of the feelings you’d been hiding all along.
“I won’t… I promise. But only because you asked so sweetly,” Sunghoon teased, his tone playful. It worked, drawing a shy smile from you.
As you rested your head against his broad shoulder, savoring the quiet intimacy, Sunghoon’s hands slid to your thighs, cautiously testing your reaction. When you smiled and leaned in, your eyes full of unspoken desire, he knew you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.
For Sunghoon, you were—and always would be—the only one who mattered.
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pathologicalreid · 3 months ago
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hazardous materials | s.r.
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in which Spencer takes care of you after an accident in the lab
margovember
chemist!reader masterlist
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff (hurt/comfort) content warnings: chemical burn, lab safety was ignored, first aid, cute banter, tattoos, chemist!reader, kisses word count: 1.24k a/n: every time i write chemist!reader i get bed chem stuck in my head except i've never heard the full song
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“Time?” You asked, using the heel of your shoe to slam the door shut once you made your way through. Haphazardly, you dropped your backpack on the ground in front of the coat closet before rushing toward the bedroom.
Spencer was sitting on the couch, a glass of water on the side table and a book in his lap, he glanced over at you when you stopped at the back of the couch to say hi to him, “Forty minutes.” He reached out for your arm, a careful gesture just because he wasn’t ready for you to be out of his view yet, but his hand caught on your forearm.
You hissed at the contact, pulling your arm back and shaking it out, “Tight grip,” you tried to wave it off, but Spencer wasn’t easily convinced.
“I barely touched you,” he said, snapping his book closed and standing up, following you into the bedroom. “Let me see your arm,” he asked, opening the door when you tried to close it behind you.
Spinning on your heel, you shrugged at him, “Not without a warrant,” you told him. Your eyes burned as you begged yourself not to cry at the pain.
Your boyfriend reached out for you again, this time pulling you in by your belt loops, he herded you into the bathroom, holding onto your hips as he beckoned for you to sit on the countertop. The granite was cold even through your jeans, and Spencer took your discomfort as pain as he pulled your shirt off.
You grunted, frowning while he pulled your long sleeve over your head and dropped it in the laundry hamper, “It’s cold,” you grumbled, slouching as Spencer inspected the wound on your forearm. It looked a lot worse now than it had when you left the lab, the burned skin starting to develop a yellowish hue. “I have somewhere to be tonight, you know,” you reminded him.
This would be your second outing with the BAU ladies since you were first introduced to them a few months ago, Garcia had arranged tango lessons, and Emily was meant to be your dance partner. “What did you burn yourself with?” He holds your arm timidly, pinching your wrist between his index and his thumb and eyeing the burn with growing concern.
“Uh,” you hummed, bracing yourself for what is bound to be abject disappointment, “Nitric acid.”
Spencer set your arm down, resting it burnt side up on your thigh while he buried his face in his hands, “Baby,” he said from behind his palms.
When he said it in that tone, it was easily your least favorite nickname. “I didn’t think it was concentrated enough to burn,” you tried to defend yourself, looking down at the obvious mistake you had made. “It must have been mislabeled and no one caught it,” you told him, trying to shrug it off.
Dropping his hands, Spencer resorted to crossing his arms in front of his chest, “A lot of chemicals have been getting mislabeled lately.” It was an accusation, but not toward you, though you tended to be more lenient on lab safety than most of your colleagues.
“I…” You faltered, flexing your fingers and feeling the skin on your arm pull, “Yes, but—”
Spencer shook his head, “No, you have to talk to her.”
The her in question was your grad student, Leslie, who had made a similar mistake with hydrochloric acid last month, also leading to a chemical burn on your arm. You frowned at Spencer, making your expression as pleading as possible in hopes that he’d drop it.
“This can’t keep happening,” Spencer said, “I know you don’t want to make her feel guilty, but maybe she should. Maybe that’s how she learns.”
You furrowed your brows at him, “It wasn’t her fault.” You felt defensive over your lab assistant, knowing that she had asked you to be her thesis advisor made you feel the need to protect her.
He pressed his lips in a thin white line, “It was,” he corrected. “If you don’t say something, I’ll send an email to your boss.”
“Spencer,” you said, shoulders slumped in disappointment and the faint feeling of betrayal.
Raising his eyebrows, Spencer gingerly took your arm back in his hands, “I know that’s your thing around the lab, not wanting to cause trouble. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself, but I need you to take care of yourself, and you can’t do that if you keep being so flippant about these ‘accidents.’”
You knew what he was doing, turning it into something you could do for him instead of something you’d do for yourself. “I’ll talk to her on Monday, and I’ll redo the UV spectroscopy on the nitric acid,” you surrendered, giving yourself the weekend to figure out how to broach the topic.
He set your arm down again, opening the cabinets in the bathroom and shuffling through miscellaneous belongings. Between the two of you, you had quite a remarkable collection of first aid, the basket that Spencer pulled off the shelf was intimidating, “Here, hold your arm over the sink,” he instructed, guiding you gently so he could rinse the burn with saline. “Does that hurt?”
“it’s just cold,” you answered, watching him make sure any debris was flushed from the wound.
His head bobbed, setting down the saline container and moving to coat the wound with a panthenol cream, “Were you wearing your hazardous materials pin?”
Your face warmed at his question. The one time you’d been the root cause of a spill, your boss responded by gifting you an enamel pin with the hazardous materials pin, “I was.”
“Maybe it needs to be bigger,” he proposed, filtering through the bin of first aid supplies and hunting for something specific, reading the labels on everything before he put it on the burn.
The corner of your mouth quirked up when you noticed he was trying to lighten the mood, “Or have lights on it,” you offered, imagining a border of LEDs around the pin.
Spencer hummed, finding silver sulphadiazine to cover the wound with, “Now, there’s an idea.”
You laughed breathily, “I could get it tattooed,” you waggled your eyebrows at him. “It would make a nice tramp stamp,” you told him, watching his gentle fingers apply dressings to your wound, securing them as carefully as he can so your skin doesn’t get irritated.
“But then I’d be the only one to see it,” he countered playfully, inspecting his handiwork.
Conceding, you nodded, “Unless the people in the lab get comfortable with a lot of things really fast.”
Softly, Spencer leaned forward and kissed you, “I want to keep an eye on this tonight,” he whispered against your lips. “If it doesn’t get better by the morning I’m taking you to urgent care,” he told you, kissing you again before gathering the first aid wrappings and putting them in the trash can.
He stepped out for a moment, returning with an old Princeton t-shirt of yours. You gingerly pulled it over your head, making sure not to bump your fresh bandages as you did so, “But what about my dance lessons?”
You hopped off of the countertop to be met by Spencer standing right in front of you, his hands placed gently on your waist before he whispered, “I can teach you to tango perfectly fine in the living room.”
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dksfml · 4 months ago
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what would you do if I went to touch you now? - riki
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pairing: younger!nishimura riki x older!reader genre: office romance, flirty niki, workplace tension, niki teaches you japanese. summary: despite your best efforts to maintain professionalism, the undeniable tension between you and riki makes it impossible to resist the connection growing between you. it doesn't help that he calls you "noona" at work. warnings: suggestive, kissing, implied smut word count: 2.7k
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your professional relationship with riki had been straightforward when he first started. quiet and shy, he took careful notes during meetings, absorbing the work culture like a sponge. as his mentor, you were tasked with guiding him through the ropes, ensuring he understood the nuances of the company.
“make sure he knows what he’s doing,” your boss had instructed, handing you the responsibility like a personal mission. and you took it seriously. riki was younger by a few years, in need of your guidance. at first, he seemed timid, his questions asked in soft tones, his posture always slightly defensive, as if afraid of stepping out of line. you naturally fell into a nurturing role, steering him whenever he seemed unsure, offering advice when necessary. but as time passed, riki's confidence grew, along with a noticeable shift in your dynamic.
it started subtly—small changes in his attitude. his work improved dramatically, and soon he was strutting around with a smirk, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place. his newfound cockiness was relentless, even though you reminded him to stay focused.
“riki,” you sighed, standing by his desk, flipping through his presentation slides. “i told you to cross-reference these with last quarter’s data. this is incomplete.”
he leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin. “i was going to fix it, but i thought i’d leave some for you to correct, noona. keeps me humble.”
you narrowed your eyes, unamused. “this isn’t a game. you can’t slack off just because you’re comfortable. these clients are important, and if we don’t get this right, it’s on both of us.”
his grin faltered, but just as quickly, he masked it with a wink. “got it. i’ll fix it. but only if you promise to let me take you out for dinner when we nail this project.”
you shook your head, suppressing a smile. “this is serious. you missed an email i asked you to forward last week. and calling me ‘noona’ here at work? we need to keep this professional.”
riki straightened, the playful glint in his eyes dimming. “right,” he said, his voice softer. “i’ll keep it professional. but you can’t blame me for trying.”
you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but deep down, you felt a rush of excitement at his boldness. “i want those revisions by the end of the day, riki. and no more flirting until this is done.”
“yes, ma’am,” he replied, a mock salute on his part, and for the first time in weeks, there was no teasing in his tone.
now, the two of you were working on a critical project, preparing a proposal for a japanese client your company was eager to sign. it wasn’t just a regular pitch; this deal was huge—a make-or-break moment that could lead to long-term collaboration. you had thrown yourself into the task, familiarizing yourself with every detail of the project. but there was one problem: the language barrier. the client preferred to communicate in japanese, and while you had learned some phrases, you were nowhere near fluent.
that’s when it struck you—riki was fluent in japanese. you recalled him casually mentioning it one afternoon, and now that you needed the skill, you struck a deal with him: he’d tutor you in japanese after work, and in return, you’d ensure his involvement in the project didn’t go unnoticed by the higher-ups. a fair exchange, strictly professional, you told yourself.
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later that night, during one of your lessons, the atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension. riki sat across from you, leaning forward as you practiced reading a passage. you stumbled over a phrase, and his sharp gaze caught your mistake.
“no,” he corrected, his voice low and firm, sending shivers down your spine. “it’s nihon, not nee-hon. you’re stressing the first syllable too much.”
his tone was both authoritative and teasing, igniting a spark of mischief that made your heart race. “let’s go over that phrase again,” he said, his voice soft yet commanding. you nodded, struggling to focus, but the heat radiating from his body made it impossible to think clearly.
“try it one more time, noona,” he urged, leaning in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. the closeness sent a jolt of electricity coursing through you, and you instinctively shifted, seeking a little more space.
“um, okay,” you stammered, trying to keep your composure, but the way he looked at you—a mix of amusement and something deeper—made your cheeks flush. “i’m trying.”
riki leaned in even closer, his shoulder pressing against yours. “you’re not trying hard enough,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. “what’s the matter? feeling a little shy?”
“shy? no,” you protested, your voice barely above a whisper. “i just—”
“just what?” he interrupted, his gaze piercing into yours, his confidence unwavering. “can’t handle a little pressure?”
your heart raced at the challenge in his voice. “at work, i’m your superior, riki. you need to respect that.”
“respect?” he echoed, leaning back just enough to gauge your reaction. “or maybe you need to realize that i’m not the junior anymore. you’re the one who seems to struggle with that.” his eyes danced with mischief, and you felt a thrill race through you.
“riki,” you warned, but your voice faltered, unable to hide the quiver of excitement that danced beneath your words.
“tell me you’re not interested,” he challenged, leaning closer, their faces mere inches apart. the air thickened with tension, and you could feel his warmth enveloping you. “because i know you feel it too.”
before you could respond, the sudden power cut plunged the office into darkness, leaving only the dim emergency lights flickering above. your heart pounded, and the adrenaline heightened every sensation.
“well, i guess that’s the end of tonight’s lesson,” you attempted to joke, but your voice trembled, revealing your unease.
riki’s eyes glinted in the low light, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “no, we’re not done.” he leaned closer again, his hand brushing against yours, sending a wave of heat up your arm.
you pulled back slightly, heart racing. “riki, this isn’t—”
“isn’t what?” he whispered, his voice a low murmur that sent a thrill down your spine. “we both know there’s something between us.”
you opened your mouth to protest, but the urgency in his gaze silenced you. your breath hitched at the finality in his tone. the professional barrier you had carefully constructed was crumbling.
“we should go,” you muttered, fumbling to gather your things. but riki reached out, his hand brushing against yours, halting your movements.
“we could go to your place,” he suggested, his voice dangerously low. “finish the lesson there.”
the implications hung heavily between you. you met his gaze, searching for any trace of the playful riki you’d trained, the one who’d always danced around the line but never crossed it. but there was nothing playful in his expression now—only a raw intensity that made your skin prickle.
you nodded, unable to trust your voice, and within moments, you were heading out of the office together. the ride to your apartment was silent, the weight of what was about to happen sitting thick between you.
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the door to your apartment clicked shut behind you, and the familiar surroundings only heightened the surreal nature of what was happening. you barely had time to turn on a light before riki was in front of you, his presence magnetic. the silence between you was thick with everything left unsaid, but his gaze—intense, burning—spoke volumes.
for a moment, neither of you moved, both caught in the tension that had been building for weeks. his eyes swept over your face, lingering on your lips as if contemplating his next move. you stood your ground, refusing to back away even as your pulse raced in anticipation.
“you’re still thinking about work, aren’t you?” his voice was low, teasing. he stepped closer, just close enough that the warmth of his body radiated through the space between you. “always so professional, noona.”
you swallowed, feeling the flutter of nerves in your stomach. “someone has to keep things in check,” you replied, though your voice faltered just slightly, betraying the tug of desire that made your skin prickle with anticipation.
he chuckled, soft and deep. “maybe it’s time you stopped thinking for once.”
before you could react, his hand slid up your arm, fingers curling gently around the nape of your neck as he pulled you toward him. his lips met yours in a kiss that was far from the playful teasing you were used to. it was hungry, intense, like he had been waiting for this moment as long as you had. the taste of him was intoxicating, and before you realized it, you were kissing him back with just as much need.
your back hit the wall softly as his body pressed into yours, every inch of him enveloping you, filling the space around you. his hands trailed down your sides, fingers ghosting over the fabric of your blouse before dipping under the hem, finding bare skin.
“riki,” you whispered, breaking the kiss for a breath, but your voice was breathless, needy. his name left your lips like a confession.
his lips barely left yours as he responded, his voice a raspy whisper. “you keep acting like you’re in control, noona,” he murmured against your skin, his hands now slipping around your waist, pulling you even closer. “but i don’t think you are anymore.”
the challenge in his voice made something inside you snap. you wanted to respond, to assert yourself as you always had, but the heat between you was overwhelming, and before you could muster a reply, his lips were on your neck, pressing soft, hot kisses along your skin that left you trembling.
“i’m not the kid you used to boss around,” he murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your ear. “you can’t keep treating me like i don’t know what i’m doing.”
his hands slid lower, and you gasped as his touch became more insistent, his fingers deftly working to unbutton your blouse. his lips returned to yours, and this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, as if he wanted to savor every second. there was nothing hurried about the way his hands roamed your body, exploring with a confidence that made your head spin.
you tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, your fingertips brushing over the smooth lines of his chest. he was handsome, undeniably so, but up close like this—underneath the layers of work clothes and the carefully constructed professionalism—he was breathtaking. your hands trailed over his skin, feeling the tautness of his muscles, the way his breath hitched slightly as you touched him.
he grinned against your lips as you pressed your body into his, feeling the hardness of his form against you. “see?” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “you can’t even resist me now, noona.”
you wanted to argue, to assert your authority as you always had, but the way he looked at you—like he knew exactly how to unravel you—left you powerless.
his hands made quick work of the rest of your clothes, every movement deliberate, controlled. he was no longer the shy, uncertain junior you had once guided. here, in the dim light of your apartment, riki was commanding, confident, and he knew exactly what he was doing.
he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom, laying you down with a gentleness that contrasted with the heat of the moment. and then he was over you, his hands exploring, his lips trailing over your skin in ways that made your breath hitch. you responded in kind, your fingers digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him closer.
when his mouth found yours again, it was softer this time, but no less intense. his touch was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of your body, every gasp and shiver he elicited. you couldn’t help the sounds that escaped you, soft whimpers that only seemed to spur him on.
“don’t think just because i’m calling you ‘noona’ that i’ll let you keep this up,” he teased, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “you’re not the only one who can take charge.”
the air between you was charged with desire, thick with the tension that had been simmering for so long. every touch, every breath shared between you was electric, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. you had never imagined this—being here, with him, in this way—but now that you were, there was no going back.
and when he finally claimed you, when the last barriers between you fell away, it was like everything else disappeared. there was no work, no professionalism, no rules—just you and him, bodies moving together in perfect sync, lost in the heat of the moment.
the world outside faded into oblivion, and all that remained was the sound of your mingled breaths, the feeling of his skin against yours, the way he made you feel as though you were the only two people who mattered.
and in that moment, nothing else did.
“i still do want to take you on a dinner date though," riki said, breaking the silence with a light-hearted lilt that hung in the air like a sweet melody.
you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his, as if seeking confirmation that this wasn’t just a fleeting fantasy. “really?” the question slipped out before you could hold it back, a mix of surprise and delight dancing in your voice.
“yeah, really,” he replied, his smile growing wider. “just you and me. somewhere nice. maybe italian? i hear they have the best pasta in town.”
his words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, grounding you in the moment. you could feel your heart quicken, the anticipation stirring something deep within you. “that sounds perfect. when do you want to go?”
“how about friday?” he suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’ll even let you choose the place.”
a laugh escaped your lips, the sound light and airy. “i hope you’re ready for my pick then. i might take you to the best italian place in town, and you’ll be regretting it the next day.”
riki chuckled, the warmth of his laughter making your heart flutter. “i’ll take that risk. besides, i have a feeling it’ll be worth it.”
in that moment, as the soft glow of the streetlights seeped through the window, you felt the weight of the week lift, replaced by the promise of something beautiful on the horizon. but just as the excitement began to settle in, you were pulled back to reality by the sound of your phone vibrating against the table, a harsh reminder of the world outside this blissful bubble.
you glanced at the screen, and the moment slipped slightly, the glow of notifications flickering like an unwelcome reminder. it was a message from a friend, checking in about the weekend plans.
“sorry, i should probably—” you started, but riki gently took your hand, grounding you again.
“hey,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “you can always reply later. right now, let’s focus on us.”
you looked back at him, the connection reigniting. the moment stretched out like an unbroken thread between you, the world beyond the walls of this room fading once more into insignificance. you nodded, your heart soaring as you settled back into the warmth of his gaze, the future bright and inviting.
“so, friday it is?” you confirmed, your voice steady and full of excitement.
“definitely,” riki replied, a grin breaking across his face, as if he had just won a victory.
and just like that, the evening unfolded around you, a delicate balance of playful teasing and soft confessions, a new chapter beginning to write itself in the quiet spaces between your laughter.
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