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pearbunny · 10 months

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you saved that for the end » lmh

paring: lee minho x f!reader. genre: drabble, angst; smut [minors do not interact] warnings: vingettes of smut, unprotected sex, mention of praise kink, breathplay (not really), jealousy, alchohol. word count: 0.8k a/n: just aiming to improve my writing so i whipped this up.

Two hundred fiftythree.

That was the number of days since the last time you and Lee Minho exchanged I love yous.

That’s not to say that you stopped saying it. Just that it was the last time you both said it and both meant it. Meant it like that.

For a couple months after, there were late night texts. For a couple of months, you both had blurred the line between friends and lovers.

It was easy for the both of you since you had been friends for so long before you had decided to make it official. In fact, it was one of those circumstances where it was the natural progression between the two of you. Everyone around you had already assumed you were together months before he had asked you.

“So are you guys dating?”

“Minho, are we dating?”

“Sure. Why not?”

So when you had broken up, it was difficult to draw that line.

He called you when he got promoted at work. You called him to coordinate outfits for a friend’s birthday party. He texted you when he was excited about a new recipe he tried. You invited him for dinner when your childhood friend was in town.

At some point, you both had silently agreed that it wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t sustainable. Especially since you agreed to be friends.

And it was going great.

Until that one summer night…

You were drunk. He was drunk. He handled his liquor well, you did not.

He walked you to your apartment, he unlocked it using the spare key you gave him in case you locked yourself out. He helped take your heels off and stored them in the shoe closet by the front door. He placed you on the right side of the bed, farthest from the door and closest to the window because he knew you liked to be woken up by the sun.

And when he was about to tell you goodnight, his common sense was gone as you whispered, “Please stay. I miss you,”.

It didn’t take long until your dress was thrown over the foot of the bed, his shirt forgotten and tossed onto the chair in the corner of your room.

Minho knew your favorite spots. The junction where your neck and shoulder meet. How much pressure he needed to use when his thumb pressed against your clit judging by the state of your breathing. The pace to set with his fingers to bring you to the edge.

It was a give and take with you. A push and pull. Because just like he knew you, you also knew him in ways no one else did. You knew about the way it drove him mad when you had your hands in his hair, bringing him closer to your core. The right words to praise him so that it made him almost animalistic. You knew how holding eye contact while you were on top, riding, would make him crumble and melt in your grasp.

You were both sober by the time he was behind you, with your back arched and aching, face in the mattress, as you pushed back against him in this odd rhythm which always meant how close the both of you were. He helped you up to press your back against his chest, his hand gently around your neck and other arm around your torso, while your hands grabbed at biceps for support. His gentle grunting and your breathy moans continued as he pumped into you the last time. You collapse on the bed together for the last time.

You wake up the next morning together for the last time.

“We shouldn’t keep doing this.”

“We can’t. We can’t keep doing this.”

You refused to turn to look him in the eyes as he got dressed.

“What’s her name?” You’re unsure why you ask. You didn’t even want to know.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he stood at the door, clothes haphazardly put on, his jacket clutched in his hand.

“What’s. Her. Name.”

He took one step forward and that was all it took for you to break down crying. You felt used. You felt naked. You felt vulnerable. You felt alone.

That was then.

This is now.

You’re standing at the train landing, waiting for the next train to take you into the city. A sound chimes over the speakers to let you know that a train is approaching. Your hand grasps at your bag, bracing yourself for the gush of wind that comes by.

When the train comes to a stop, you’re staring at Lee Minho. He’s on the other side of the door, waiting for them to open to let him out.

He looks at you. He’s looking right at you.

There's no light behind his eyes, no recognition of who you are, only the most miniscule movement of a clenched jaw.

The door opens and people are filing out. The world doesn’t stop for the two of you. There’s a lump in your throat that you swallow. At the same time, you both take a step forward– around each other.

“Excuse me,” he says.

You’re on the train and when you look back towards him, you can see his retreating form.

You never started as strangers.

You saved that for the end.

pearbunny's masterlist

#lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #lee know #lee know x reader #lee know smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader

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moonwonuu · 1 year

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pairing: wonwoo x reader

genre: fluff, angst and crack filo!au

pov: kung saan nakahanap si wonwoo nang pahinga in the form of a coffee lover who is always willing to listen to him whenever life is getting too much for him to handle. everything between them was platonic until it was not.

special chapter(s)

wonwoo’s birthday

#wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #wonwoo imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen angst #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt angst #svt imagines

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final-girl96 · 1 year

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Firefly Master List

WATTPAD

Description

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

TwentyOne

TwentyTwo

TwentyThree

TwentyFour

TwentyFive

TwentySix

TwentySeven

TwentyEight

TwentyNine

Thirty

ThirtyOne

ThirtyTwo

ThirtyThree

ThirtyFour

ThirtyFive

ThirtySix

ThirtySeven

ThirtyEight

ThirtyNine

Forty

FortyOne

FortyTwo

FortyThree

FortyFour

FortyFive

FortySix

FortySeven

FortyEight

FortyNine

Fifty

FiftyOne

FiftyTwo

FiftyThree

FiftyFour

FiftyFive

FiftySix

FiftySeven

FiftyEight

FiftyNine

Sixty

SixtyOne

SixtyTwo

SixtyThree

SixtyFour

SixtyFive

SixtySix

SixtySeven

SixtyEight

SixeyNine

Seventy

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hinatastinygiant · 1 year

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Pairing: Tokyo Revengers! x Fem!Reader

Tokyo Revengers, but I don't tell you the love interest...

Only a small amount of the population has been brought into a strange new world where murder is necessary for survival. When y/n finds herself in this strange world, she finds herself in situations she never thought she'd be in with people she never thought she'd see again.

Warnings: Language Warning! NSFW (18+) Graphic Depiction of Violence!

I DO NOT OWN TOKYO REVENGETRS OR ITS CHARACTERS. I ONLY OWN THE OC’s.

rivaling groups: taiyaki fighters, the chosen, no namers, the wanderers, divine anarchy.

one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen(xxx), fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty

twentyone, twentytwo, twentythree, twentyfour, twentyfive(xxx), twentysix, twentyseven, twentyeight, twentynine, thirty

thirtyone(xxx), thirtytwo, thirtythree, thirtyfour, thirtyfive, thirtysix, thirtyseven, thirtyeight(xxx), thirtynine, forty

fortyone, fortytwo, fortythree, fortyfour, fortyfive, fortysix, fortyseven, fortyeight, fortynine, fifty

fiftyone, fiftytwo(xxx), fiftythree, fiftyfour, fiftyfive, fiftysix, fiftyseven, fiftyeight, fiftynine, sixty

sixtyone, sixtytwo, sixtythree, sixtyfour, sixtyfive, sixtysix, sixtyseven, sixtyeight, sixtynine, seventy

seventyone, seventytwo, seventythree, seventyfour, seventyfive, seventysix(xxx), seventyseven

(Updated May 16, 7:00pm est)

want to join the taglist? Click here for more

Back to Masterlist

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talia-rumlow · 1 year

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My Saviour Masterlist!

The first story I ever wrote. I´m still in love with this one.

My Saviour is a Rumlow X Reader story. This story will contain Graphic Sexual Description, Graphic Description of Violence, Death, Murder, angst, trauma, Domestic Abuse and Past Abuse. Read on own risk. This is a story where I portray Brock Rumlow as a decent human being. He also has a backstory. If you don´t like Brock Rumlow yet. You will, after reading this story.

Chapter One - We Don´t Treat Women Like That!

Chapter Two - Can I Tell You A Little Secret?

Chapter Three - What Someone Like Me, Does To Little Brats Like You

Chapter Four - Who Is In Charge?

Chapter Five - Good Girls Gets Rewarded

Chapter Six - The Morning After

Chapter Seven - First Day At Work

Chapter Eight - I Want To Protect You

Chapter Nine - That´s Right, You Disobeyed Me!

Chapter Ten - Pick One!

Chapter Eleven - Mine! Say It!

Chapter Twelve - I´ll Find Him!

Chapter Thirteen - Want To Play A Game?

Chapter Fourteen - Pull Over!

Chapter Fifteen - What Do You Want Me To Do?

Chapter Sixteen - Want Me To Look For It?

Chapter Seventeen - Did You Lock The Door?

Chapter Eighteen - That Girl You Like So Much!

Chapter Nineteen - It´s A Date!

Chapter Twenty - When You Call Me Brock

Chapter Twentyone - See What You Get When You Ask Nicely

Chapter Twentytwo - Come For Me, Brock!

Chapter Twentythree - Please Don´t Leave Me!

Chapter Twentyfour - I Fucking Love You!

Chapter Twentyfive - Are You Alright?

Chapter Twentysix - You Disobeyed Me, Brock!

Chapter Twentyseven - Will It Be Dangerous, This Mission?

Chapter Twentyeight - Have You Ever Used A Gun Before, YN?

Chapter Twentynine - SHIELD Is The Safest Place To Be!

Chapter Thirty - Alexander Pierce

Chapter Thirtyone - Why Is This Happening To You?

Chapter Thirtytwo - How Did You End Up Here?

Chapter Thirtythree - This One Is Not!

Chapter Thirtyfour - Please Don´t Be Mad At Me!

Chapter Thirtyfive - Who Said Anything About Winning?

Chapter Thirtysix - I Love You, YN!

Chapter Thirtyseven - Good Agents Don´t Disobey Orders, YN!

Chapter Thirtyeight - You Are Fired Though!

Chapter Thirtynine - What´s Wrong With You, Brock?

Chapter Fourty - Well Played, YN! You´re Still Dead Though!

Chapter Fourtyone - What Did You Do To deserve This Treatment?

Chapter Fourtytwo - She´s Messing With Your Mind, Brock! Be Careful!

Chapter Fourtythree - I realise that I know nothing about him

Chapter Fourtyfour - You´re worth nothing. NOTHING!

Chapter Fourtyfive - He Really Does Like You!

Chapter Fourtysix - You´ve Done This Before, Haven´t you?

Chapter Fourtyseven - Red!

Chapter Fourtyeight - Do You Have A Child?

Chapter Fourtynine - Get Away From Me, YN!

Chapter Fifty - How can you be so calm about this? I stabbed you!

Chapter Fiftyone - We´re Gonna Play!

Chapter Fiftytwo - I Love You, YN!

Chapter Fiftythree - Where Are Your Parents?

Chapter Fiftyfour - Anything You Want. Brock!

Chapter Fiftyfive - Good Girl!

Chapter Fiftysix - Not You, Agent!

Chapter Fiftyseven - NOT HER!

Chapter Fiftyeight - You Should Listen To This!

Chapter Fiftynine - I´m Gonna Kill Him!

Chapter Sixty - Have You Thought About Names At All?

Chapter Sixtyone - Get Caught!

Chapter Sixtytwo - I Wouldn´t Do That If I Were You!

Chapter Sisxtythree - I´m So Sorry!

Epilogue!

#brock rumlow #rumlow #rumlowfiction #rumlowsmut #rumlowxreader #fanfiction #jack rollins #My Saviour (Rumlow X Reader)

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taisnottired · 2 years

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WAIT WHY DO I HAVE FIFTYTHREE FOLLOWERS WHADDAFUCK

#( ◇ galaxii talks. )

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topaz-gremlin · 6 months

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Cave In

The midnight sun filtered in through the frost covered panes of the windows. It cut through the sheets of gauzy fabric hung at regular intervals in the circular room at the top of the tower. No wind or draft blew through the room, but the drapes swayed ever so slightly, set to motion by the energy emanating from the figure at the center of the room. A chalk diagram webbed out from underneath the being, symbols and shapes known only to them carpeting the floor. At irregular intervals in the chaos sat all manner of candles, tall and short, new and old, lit and snuffed. Their flames flickered in ways that were at odds with the movement of the curtains. No smoke filled the room and, despite the chill, no breath clouded from the figure. The only mark of life from them being the steady rise and fall of their chest.

Grey eyes shot open as a rumble began to echo from outside the tower. In a second the figure sprung to her feet, tearing through the curtains and towards the door. Bounding down the stairs, she ripped a cloak off of a hook on the wall, snatched a pair of boots from a landing, and pulled a sword from where it lay against an arrow slit. Barely stopping to shove her feet into the boots, she barrelled out of the door and onto the fortress walls.

With a booming voice that carried further than it should have over the icy tundra, she shouted, “Cave in in the northern sector! Pull the overseers!”

Slinging her swordbelt over her shoulder, the sorcerer rushed down into the courtyard. A hand passed her the reins as she hurdled towards her mount. Throwing herself into the saddle, the bones of her steed biting into her legs, she commanded the creature forwards at a breakneck speed. Ice kicked up behind them as they raced towards the mines. Pushing the beast faster than she had in a long time, the sorcerer swore under her breath as more and more of her constructs fell away from her reach.

The area of the tundra where the snow turned brown from the earth pulled from deep below grew larger all too slowly. The rumbling that was heard outside her tower grew louder and the ground began to shake underneath her steed. Quicker than was natural, but slower than desired, she arrived at the entrance to the mines. Her overseers huddled around a series of sleds, bundled against the biting wind. Thick garments of caribou hide and seal skin covered them head to toe. Their faces were framed by the large fur hoods and their ivory sun goggles protected them from the midnight sun.

Aiming for the head foreman, the sorcerer reined in her beast in front of the group. Not bothering to wait for them to address her, she barked out, “Is everyone out?”

“Yes, lord, this is everyone. Squad Baf and Cet had just taken off for a drop off.” She jumped from her mount lithely, heading for the main entrance to the northern sector. The rumbling in the ground had ceased, along with the destruction of her miners, but she knew better than to enter the tunnel proper.

“Good, good,” she muttered more to herself than to the foreman. “Not too many lost then. But it does appear that the cave-in separated group Alb-Cet. They are in tunnels one-seventeen though fiftythree. The junction at one hundred collapsed. Is it worth it to reopen? How profitable were those tunnels?”

“We were pulling decent iron from the latter sections,” Foreman Alberich answered. “Untapped ground there. Dangerous though, that was the third cave in this month.”

She nodded, not needing him to tell her of the dangers. This stretch of mine had lost her nearly two hundred constructs. They weren’t at risk of depleting the materials, but the strain of creating new ones was beginning to drain her.

“If those idiots to the south would stop throwing away good iron in this war, maybe we wouldn’t have to dig in such dangerous areas,” a minor overseer grumbled from the background.

“That war is keeping you lot fed,” the sorcerer quipped. Turning back to Alberich, she commanded, “We reopen the tunnels. I’ve already sent out the order. The miners will likely have it cleared and shored up in a few days time.”

Before she could listen to him answer her she felt the loss of a singular miner. Somewhere deep underground, deeper than their tunnels stretched, the crunch of bones severed her connection to the construct. Head cocked to the side, listening, feeling, she reached towards the last point of contact. Finding the nearest miner, she explored the area around it, only to feel that one be pulled down and destroyed as well. After a third, then a fourth suffered the same fate to confirm her findings, she returned to herself.

Alberich had stopped talking when he realized his lord was no longer present. Once her senses flickered back online, he asked, “What is it, Lord Venatrix?”

“They cracked into a cave. A deep one.” Turning back to her saddle, she pulled a map out of the bags. Unraveling the surveyor’s map, she roughly searched for where the tunnels that had collapsed were. Nothing there indicated a cave of the size she was feeling.

Continuing, she said, “If it caused the quake, I don’t want anything living going near it. Leave the miners to it for now. Once they connect with the main junction I’ll send in atmosphere testers to be safe. Who knows, maybe there’s something good down there.”

“Probably just more diamonds and gold, knowing our luck!” The foreman joked. Venatrix just scoffed at him before rolling her map back into the saddle bags. The creak in her hands had her searching for the gloves she always kept in the side pouch. Shoving her bluing fingers into the moleskin gloves, she pulled herself back into the saddle.

“I’m placing this mine on a skeleton crew until the cave in is cleared. No living allowed in.” Silent orders went out to the constructs that still toiled in the uncollapsed tunnels. “I’ve pulled the miners from squads Baf and Cet to head for the sister mines for now. Consider this a vacation for you all. Rest up and be prepared for when we reopen. Now, I need to get out of this wind before my toes fall off.”

“Should we send a guard to accompany them? Don’t want to lose more bones to those creatures.” Alberich asked as the miners began to shuffle out of the tunnels. The split into two groups, trudging as if pulled by strings towards the other mines.

“They don’t attack when the sun is out, not as often at least. It’s a risk I’ll take, given we’re already behind on production for the month,” Venatrix answered. The snow crunched under her beast’s paws as she turned it around.

“If the king cares so much about it, he should send some fucking guards,” another overseer grumbled.

“The last group he sent lasted three weeks before the cold and bones sent them running to their mother’s skirts. And honestly they were more of a hindrance than anything else. When the night falls later in the year, I’ll fight that battle again.” She was already moving towards the fortress while she spoke, the ice crystals forming in her extremities driving her towards the warmth of the fires.

Pulling her cloak tight, she cursed her stupidity for rushing out without her gear. Centuries past, when she was more fragile, she would have never taken that risk. Now, her unaged body showed the signs of wear and tear from generations worth of mistakes like that. These newly darkened fingertips would be a new addition to the collection, but they would fade shortly enough.

Arriving swiftly at the fortress, she passed the beast off to one of the hands in the stables, remembering to shove her gloves back into the saddlebags. A dogsled had followed her into the courtyard. Alberich gave her a wave before heading towards his quarters in the keep. Doing the same, Venatrix headed for the closest door to her own chambers. Upon entry, a gust of warm air helped to return some life to her shivering body.

Aiming for the sanctuary of the warm couch in her living chambers, she shook a small pile of snow out of her boots. Wet footprints appeared on the stone behind her as she walked and her socks squelched uncomfortably. Flopping onto the couch and pulling the soggy wool from her feet, she gazed into the fire. The veiled figure to the hearth’s left cleared its throat, or what was left of it.

“My lord, you must be more careful with your form,” Their ancient lungs rasped as they chastised her. Her childhood tutor, now the specter that haunted her rooms that she couldn’t find the heart to remove, stood like a statue next to the fire.

“I know, Yorich. It was an emergency,” the sorcerer rebutted.

“As it was the last seventeen times.” If they were human, Yorich would have been sarcastic. Instead their statement was nothing but dry fact. Continuing, they said, “Need I remind you what happened with the black powder?”

At the mere mention, the swath of tight skin on her side began to itch. Scratching it softly, she retorted, “No, the scar reminds me well enough.”

“Your magic is strong enough you needn’t throw yourself into the earth to solve these problems.” They had yet to move. If someone were to watch, they’d think she was speaking to a statue. She might as well have been, with how stone cold they typically were. It meant that arguing with Yorich was next to impossible. And yet she still tried.

“And do I need to remind you about old habits dying hard?” She threw her wet sock at her tutor, who caught it in a lightning fast reaction.

Folding the sock and placing it on the mantel, they pushed, “When will you ask his majesty for more assistance?”

“Drop it, Yorich,” she growled, “I have little interest in dealing with the princeling playing as king. I give him what he needs, nothing more.”

“And he does not return the favor. It is time you demand that. The sisters speak on it often.” Rolling her eyes dramatically, Venatrix flopped sideways onto the couch. Yorich spoke of her other tutors, the ones who trained her the magic she’d mastered centuries past. The old crones still seemed convinced they owned some part of her for those teachings.

“I don’t give a shit what those bitches think,” she forced out.

“Language, my lord.” A snort bit her nose at that. “Remember, you are lord of more than this fortress. If the sisters sense weakness, they may convene to remove your title as Prefect.”

“And bowing to the crown isn't weakness?” She grumbled, unhappy to be rehashing a conversation they had been having for months now.

“There is strength in asking for help.”

Shaking her head, she conceded, “I’ll think on it. Right now I need to warm up.”

“There is something else,” Yorich creaked forwards, extending a bony hand. A familiar envelope sealed with gold wax was offered to her. “The changeling sent a letter.”

Venatrix broke the seal swiftly, eager to read her friend’s latest update. The code known only to them unraveled swiftly in her mind. The letter contained all the usual updates, but finished with something very out of the ordinary. A sinister smile crept across her face as she reread the line. Turning back to Yorich, she declared, “I think I will be speaking with the king after all. As it turns out, he owes me for more than just the iron. He’s stolen my name.”

#writing #original content #short story #fiction #fantasy

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