#If you want to know more or want to be a beta reader for me
Text
Sharing a room with a not so stranger
Azriel x reader
Warnings?: reader is shorter than Azriel, not beta we die like suriel, kinda rushed? idk it's 23:54 so meh enjoy
Note: the library is based of off the acropolis and what I image Olympus would look like, so is all the rest of the Day Court. pictures from pinterest
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"So sorry to bother you," a voice said from behind you. "Can I ask you for a favour?" Turning around you came face to face with Elain. She was dressed beautifully, a light pink coloured dress with a corset with flowers embroidered onto it, sleeves of the shoulders with on the shoulders and wrist embroidered the same flowers as the corset. Her hair was loose with a few braids which all had flowers in it. Truly you’d be lying if you said she didn’t look pretty.
“That depends on what the favour is of course.” You answered her with a smile. In all honesty you hoped it would be something entertaining, these past couple of days have been fun here at the Day Court but you were slowly growing bored. This whole event was to celebrate summer solstice, the Night Court was specifically invited by High Lord Helion as a means to grow a stronger alliance. A full two weeks of celebrating and getting to know each other.
Elain looked behind her and when you followed her gaze you could see Lucien standing in the doorway smiling at her and giving her an encouraging nod.
“Would you, by any chance, …” she trailed of looking at me with an air of hesitance. Giving her a little push you asked:
“Would I…?”
Elain sighed a little but finished her sentence. “Would you mind if Azriel and I switched rooms?” She paused to let the words sink in. “I would really like to try giving this a chance and we already asked Azriel and he’s fine with it, but only if you are. And I know you two aren’t all that familiar with each other but I would really appreciate this.”
At last she stopped talking to gage your reaction only to see a little smile on your face. “My dear, I would not mind at all. You two deserve this moment to try and see where this all leads you.” She perked up at your words and you could see Lucien visibly relax in the corner of your eye. “If Azriel is comfortable with this all then I do not mind.”
She thanked you and said that they would be sure to inform Azriel of you agreeing before they both took their leave.
Once they did take their leave you started thinking about what you just agreed to. In all honesty you and Azriel hadn’t really spoken in quite a while. As members of the Inner Circle it was kind of inevitable but that still didn’t change the conversations you had had with him.
He never seemed to speak much, especially not to you. Only during the rare times that he would ask for help with an injury would you two really talk. And even then it was mostly you talking to him about how to take care of the wound even though he has probably done so a million times.
You’d always find him looking at you with deep eyes whenever you’d look up from your work. He never really seemed to take his eyes off of you while you were working. Whether he was guarded or something else you couldn’t quite decide.
Outside of that there were a few conversations you had had with the spymaster. But lately that had started to change. You were in the habit of sneaking away during each social event to lend yourself a moment of fresh air before stepping back into the crowded rooms. However these last couple of, hell, years you always seemed to get the company of a certain shadowsinger wherever you had decided to sneak of to.
Not that you mind, in all honesty you couldn’t deny the pull you felt towards him. Each conversation, each interaction left you yearning for more. You wanted to hear him speak to you, you wanted to know who he was outside of this persona he had been given.
Deciding that you should try to make things easier for the both of you lead to you walking back to the room you previously shared with Elain with the goal in mind of tidying up a bit. Once there you put away any clothing that was lying around, noting that all of Elain her stuff had already been moved.
The room wasn’t big by any means, in fact you and Elain had specifically requested a smaller sized room. There was a wall with a huge window opposite of the door with the bed against the left wall and a couch on the opposite side next to the window.
Once you deemed the room clean enough you realized that the room might be cozy for you and Elain but Azriel would have trouble getting comfortable in the bed were there someone else in it. Deciding that there wouldn’t be enough space on the bed for both you while allowing his wings to rest comfortably and without the fear of accidental touching, you made the decision to move a pillow and blanket to the couch. Moving that what was on the night stand to the little table next to the couch.
A knock on the door made you pause. Assuming that it was either Elain or Azriel you went to open the door, only to be surprised by a smiling Helion.
“High Lord.” You said with a small bow of the head. You’ve always liked the man, he was polite and kind. A bit of a flirt maybe but still aware of boundaries. And he ruled his court exceptionally well. All people were well taken care of and very rarely did they find themselves in conflict with other courts. Compared to the Night Court which carried the looming darkness of The Court of Nightmares and Hewn City that was very admirable.
“Oh you, there is no need for such titles. Call me Helion, please.” He chuckled a bit at the formality of it all but still kept a smile on his face as he corrected you.
“Well then Helion, is there anything I can help you with?”
His smile widened a little at your question. His eyes sparkling a little. “I heard that you take care of a large portion of all the knowledge that is stored in the Night Courts library, I must say it is quite the collection. One to be proud of.”
Mirroring his smile you replied with a hint of proudness to your voice. “Yes, indeed. I travel a lot and when I do I can’t help but try to take at least one book with me to further the collection you speak so highly of.”
“Well, the Day Court does have quite the library as well and I thought that I could interest you in taking a look around.” He gestured with his hand down the left corridor.
Your gaze followed the direction from his hand before looking back inside the room. Everything seemed in order for when Azriel would arrive. “Is it just down the hallway?” You ask.
He shakes his head with the same smile on his face that has been there since you opened the door. “Why don’t I show you there, it’s a bit of a maze in here.”
You nodded and walked out into the hallway, closing the door behind you before making your way to the library. The empty hallways were filled with easy going small talk between the two of you before you eventually reached the library.
To say that it was beautiful would be an understatement. It was truly breathtaking. It looked like a place where gods would walk, the high ceilings and windows with no glass allowed as much natural light in as possible. The walls were a cream colour with beautiful paintings on the ceilings.
You should remember to tell Feyre so she could come get a look.
The bookcases were white with golden accents, they crowded the entire room except for the space right before the window. Leaving enough space for several couches and a table surrounded by chairs. Even the wood of the furniture was a light colour.
You don’t know how long you simply admired the space but when you turned around Helion was looking at you with a proud smile and a look of admiration on his face.
He clears his throat and says: “It’s beautiful is it not?” You weren’t really sure what to say. It was beautiful but outside of the beauty of it you were also surprised by its sheer size. Maybe it was the lighting but it looked so much more spacious than the library at the House Of Wind.
“It is very beautiful, I honestly don’t really know what to say. The lighting and colours are so much brighter than those of the ones we have. Even the books match the pale colours. And the amount of books here is admirable. This truly is a fine library.”
“Well, I am more than happy to have shown it to you. Please, feel free to look around and spent as much time here as you please. I’m afraid I cannot stay with you for much longer, duty calls, but rest assured that you are more then welcome in this library. Or even my court.”
You smiled slightly at his words and told him you would keep it in mind. It wasn’t for long before he excused himself and left you to your own company.
You roamed around looking for any books that peaked your interest and finally settled on a handful of them. You found another window with seating space, albeit this on smaller, and settled down on the plush couch facing slightly away from the window.
You don’t know how much time you spend sitting there but when you finally looked up from the third book that you were reading you realized that the sun had set and the sky was now adorned with stars. Granted, there weren’t as many or as bright of ones as in Valaris but it was a sight none the less.
Deciding to call it a night you got up and realised just how long you had been sitting in that same position you stretched and gathered the books you had laying around you. Walking up to the desk you left the books there for someone to find in the morning.
The hallways were quiet now, beside your own steps and breathing there as nothing to be heard.
Ones you had made your way back to your room you were very careful while opening the door as to not startle or wake up Azriel.
When the door was open far enough to slip inside you did so carefully, the room was bathed in moonlight and given the light you could see Azriel’s sleeping figure on the bed. He had moved himself fairly far to the window leaving enough space for a second person to lay down next to him if needed.
But you didn’t need to and getting in the bed would mean having to move his left wing out of the way and you weren’t about to touch the one place that Illyrians loathed to be touched.
Quietly making you way to the bathroom you quickly changed into night clothing and treaded very lightly to the couch. You laid down and when you finally settled you felt something twirling itself around your fingers. Looking down you realised it was a shadow. You smiled at it, mouthing good night before it parted from you to return to their master and with that you went off into slumber.
When you woke up again there was not yet any sunlight in the room. You looked over at the clock on the wall above the door and noted that it was almost time for sunrise. You looked over at Azriel realising he was still fast asleep and decided to take one of the books of your little makeshift nightstand before shuffling to the open balcony.
It must be a dream for winged people to be able to simply fly up to their rooms from the outside without having to first enter and walk both the hallways and stairs.
You sat down on a sofa that was located opposite to where the bed stood so you could keep an eye on Azriel in case he were to awake.
Before long the sunrise started, it was truly magnificent. The colours weren’t simply red, pink and yellow. No, you were sure you could make out nearly the entire rainbow from the sky.
You once again felt a little coolness around your fingers which finally prompted you to look away from the scenery.
“Hello you, we meet again.” You smiled softly at it while speaking in a whisper, mindful of the early time. “What are doing over here, hm? Shouldn’t you be guarding your master?”
It moved around your fingers and palm before deciding to return to the figure on the bed. Looking over you realised you had been caught making small talk with a shadow.
From the bed a tired looking Azriel looked at you with eyes of wonder. “Good morning.” You greeted. “You should go back to sleep, it’s still very early.” Which granted it was. Looking at the clock once more you saw that it read six.
He hummed as if in thought before turning his head into the pillows and stretching. His legs coming out from beneath the blanket and his wings stretching wide. They nearly hit the wall on his right from how wide they were.
He relaxed again before letting himself fall back into the mattress. For a bit you thought he had taken your advice but alas he started turning so he could sit up in bed.
His hair was frizzled and stood a little upright. He had dark circles under his eyes and a sleepy look covering his face. He blinked a few times before moving to sit with his legs over the side of the bed. The blanked had fallen and you couldn’t help but look at his chest, the muscles well defined, quite a few scars, some bigger than the others and a tattoo covering the entirety of his upper chest. It looked just like the shadows that had started swirling around him again.
Curling through his hair and around his ear, likely whispering little things they noticed or deemed important enough.
Deciding the stop gaping at the male you moved your eyes back to the other side, the sunset nearly over by now. Even though only a matter of two to three minutes could have one by the sun had risen fast. Likely a Day Court thing. It shone brightly and you could feel it’s light gently ceres your skin.
Feeling a presence nearby you noticed that Azriel had started moving towards you, yawing in the process before settling down next to you in the sofa.
You sat in comfortable silence for a bit before he spoke. “The sunrise is likely the only thing I enjoy about this court.” You smiled gently at his words before looking over at him.
He was looking at the sunrise with a small smile on his face before he turned his attention to you. His eyes seemed to soften a little bit more when they met yours.
“How did you sleep? I heard you come in quite late and you were up early.” He noted with a small furrow of his brow. Although the gentle smile stayed on his face.
“I slept pretty decent actually. I had lost myself in a book in the library so I was back rather late, I am sorry if I woke you.” You replied back, spoken in soft voices.
He assured you that you had not awoken him, rather he himself were still awake.
“I noticed one of my shadows with you this morning, they don't usually do that. Have they done that before? Because I’ll tell them off if they make you uncomfortable, although I must say that it did not seem that way just now.”
You beamed slightly at his words. “I don’t mind at all, in fact they are rather nice.” You smiled a little brighter as some of them immediately darted towards you, some playing with your fingers other roaming around, a few even went into your hair.
Azriel looked slightly startled as they did this. “I think last night while I went to lay down was the first time. Whichever one it seemed to have wanted to come say goodnight to me.” You thought for a bit, admiring them before realisation hit you. “Wait, actually, I think they might have done that before. Back during Solstice a few of them curled around my arm when I passed you. I completely forgot about that.”
You looked over at him and he seemed to be deep in thought, his brow was really furrowed now and his smile was no longer. When he didn’t seem to snap out of it you placed your hand on his wrist.
He blinked in surprise before looking at you hand on him which had him frowning once more.
You removed your hand before clearing you throat. “Sorry, I would have taken your hand but you seem to always shy away when people do that. I shouldn’t have assumed that your wrist would be any different.”
He looked up at you expression unchanging. He opened his mouth to say something right as a knock sounded from the door. You looked over at it before deciding to go over and see who it was. You looked back over at him to see him still staring. You gave him a little smile, after apologizing again you stood up and made your way to the door.
You opened it just after another knock sounded and were surprised to see your own High Lord.
He looked slightly surprised by you before giving a smile. “Well good morning, it seems our dear Azriel is in good hands then.” He chuckled softly, mindful of those still sleeping.
Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong or what he had meant you felt a hand on your waist. While the other grasped the door besides your head.
“Can we help you Rhys?” Azriel sounded kind of agitated, a clear difference from simple moments ago. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was because Rhysand was here or because you touched his wrist.
“Not necessarily, I simply wanted to check in on you both. I had heard from Feyre that Elain and our dear Azzy here had switched rooms.” He said the last part while grinning at you.
Before either of you could say anything else Azriel decided that the High Lord and his brother had overstayed his welcome. “If you aren’t here for a decent reason could you let us be?”
He surprised you with that but the high fea before you seemed unbothered, maybe even pleased.
“Of course, of course. I wouldn’t want to bother you two. Remember that meeting we have at nine.” He barely finished speaking when Azriel pulled you back into him begore closing the door.
You both stood there for a moment until you decided to turn around. Only then did you notice how close he really was and how very bare his chest still was.
After a second of standing in a daze staring at his chest and tattoo you seemed to come back to reality when you moved backwards a step, which in turn caused your back to hit the door. You looked up and Azriel followed your step until his arm was pressed into the door above your head.
He leaned in slightly while you tilted your head upwards to try and look at him properly. If you didn’t know better you’d say he was blushing.
“I don’t mind you touching my wrist. Or my hand.” He paused while looking at you. He leaned in even more, noses nearly touching. “I never mind when it’s you.”
You both held eye contact between each other until his gaze flicked over your face as if searching for something. Eventually he pulled away and you smiled at him, hoping he couldn’t hear the loud drumming of your heart.
Later you found yourself once again in the library. Azriel left at eight, presumably for the meeting Rhysand was talking about. And given that you were once again alone in your room and that you could read the books you had with you you could read another time you decided to return to the library.
A good portion of the day had passed, before you knew it the empty plate upon which the dinner that one of the helpers had given you had been cleared and replaced with coffee.
You finished yet another book and decided to try and find a book you had been looking for for a while. While strolling through the aisles you couldn’t help but have the feeling that you were being watched.
You wondered if it was something alike the House or Byraxsis. Although you doubted that something as ‘terrifying’ could be found in the Day Court.
Not to lie you had always enjoyed the presence of Byraxsis, you would read to it after a long day. And sometimes, just sometimes they would ask a question or ask for a book you could read.
You missed them sometimes, although the same cannot be said about Cassian.
When you reached for a book you noticed that you were once again joined by a little shadow. You smiled at it before returning to looking for your book.
When you were about to enter another aisle the little shadow decided to pull you a different way. You ended up three aisles down from where you were going. The little shadow kept going before stopping before a specific bookcase. You looked around it for a bit, curious at what the littlz thing would want to show you and that’s when you saw just the book you were looking for.
When you went to thank the little one, you realized that it was nowhere to be found.
Shrugging it off you decided to focus on the matter at hand. To get the book that was placed about a meter and a half above you. You tried to reach it by standing on your tiptoes before someone reached out above you to take it of the shelve.
You immediately recognized the scars on the hands, the siphons and the little shadows that had once again decided to dance along your skin.
Lowering your hand you turned around to see Azriel leaning over you in the same way he had been that morning. Except this time he was smiling softly, it tugged on a heart string to see him smile like that. Gods what you wouldn’t do to see him smile like that more.
“A bit short aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question as much as it was a tease. You huffed but smiled and thanked him for the book. But just as you went to reach for it he held it out of your reach. The smile on his face widened at your playful glare. You reached for it again but this time he held it above his head. So you decided to step closer until you were practically chest to chest and place one hand on his chest and raise one to reach for the book.
He seemed surprised by your boldness and movement that his arm went slack and you managed to lower it and grab the book.
You smiled at the look on his face and patted his chest. You took a step back.
“I’m surprised to see you here. Wasn’t expecting it.” You said softly to respect the space.
He shrugged and smiled. “Maybe I wanted to read and saw a damsel in distress.” You laughed a little, denying being a damsel or in distress. He leaned in closer with is head and upper body and added. “Or maybe I just wanted to see you.”
You flushed at that and he laughed quietly, deciding that you were red enough he gestured for you to follow while he offered his arm. Which you took.
He led you to where you had sat yesterday and took a book of his own. He sat down besides you on the couch and started reading.
You finished your book rather fast and decided to read another and another. As did he, only he didn’t read nearly half of what you read.
Once it started getting late, and both of you began to get hungry he announced that you should be retire to the bedroom. You obliged, still you toom the books with you to the front desk so they could be placed where they needed to be. He smiled at you once that happened and once again offered his arm.
Back in the room, you both decided to wear something more comfortable. Azriel had once again ditched his shirt and opted for loose black sweatpants instead of his leathers.
The food was delivered to the door and you both ate in silence until he spoke up.
“Why did you sleep on the couch tonight?" You raised your head from your food and blinked at him. “I mean there was enough space for us both and as much as it is pretty that couch does not look comfortable.”
You smiled perhaps a bit sheepish and said: “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, you had already moved so for to the right and still there was little space. I definitely would have touched you, which I thought you were uncomfortable with. And I would have had to move your wing and even now that is a boundary I will not cross. Especially not in your sleep.”
He smiled softly at you and his eyes softened. “I wouldn’t mind you sleeping in the bed with me. Not at all.”
And so that’s how you ended up next to the shadowsinger. It was well past midnight and it appears that Azriel had found sleep, the same could not be said for you.
The blanket had little weight and was very thin. But getting out of the bed would mean waking Azriel zo you bared with it.
After a count you turned your head to Azriel to find him already looking at you. Startled at first your eyes widened before turning into a smile to match his own. You turned on your side to look at him better and did he look good.
His sleepy smile paired with that dammed look in his eyes.
“Why do you look at me like that?” you asked.
A beat passed, then he sighed and said: “Because you are simply stunning.”
A blush crept up your face. “So are you, dammed handsome truly.”
You thought that he would laugh or say something back but instead his face faltered. It hurt to watch that, you frowned and wondered why that happened. Did he not believe you? Does he think you’re lying?
No, that’s not possible, I mean look at him. But his smile went completely and you felt such dread seeing it ago, and that’s when it happened.
Snap
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“You…. You’re..” You weren’t sure what to say. It’s like your entire world got flipped upside down.
“Wait, you can feel it?” He said, leaning on his elbow. Your mouth opened and closed before you nodded with disbelief. He knew?
His smile started returning before he started reaching for me. Although he stopped abruptly, he looked at his hands and before I knew is I had taken them in mine and placed a kiss on the knuckles, the back of them and both palms.
His eyes glossed and his voice sounded so little as he asked: “You don’t mind? You don’t mind that it is me that is your….” His voice trailed off at the end.
“I do not, truly I am utterly delighted.” You took the side of his face in your hand while guiding him to lay back down. “I am more than happy to be your mate, Azriel.”
His eyes scanned mine for a lie, a single hesitation and when he found none he said upright and brought both wings to the correct sides. He gestured for me to sit up so I did. He laid back down with now the wing beneath me.
I hesitated and he told me once again: “I don’t mind when it’s you.”
So begrudgingly you laid down on his arm atop his wing while the other draped over you, along with his arm and shadows. The added weight was welcome and so was the warmth against the chilly air.
“How long have you known?” You ask.
“Remember Solstice two years ago, when we were having one of our conversations again?” You nodded. “And how all of a sudden I had to make the worst excuse ever to leave?” You nodded again.
“Well, you had said that my shadows were adorable and you called them ‘little ones’ ande then it just… snapped. I panicked cuz I did not know what to do, I almost spilled it all right then and there but I felt like you deserved better… or at least for it to be natural. Honestly even before the bond I really liked you, you should ask Rhys and Cass. They have some stories of me trying to impress you and it going terrifically wrong.”
You laughed and stared in wonder, you mate is a dork. And you love him. So you told him just that.
“I would love to het to know you better, truly. But know that even before and now still, I love you. My mate is such a dork and I’d love to hear all the stories.”
His arms wrapped around you tighter and the shadows seemed to do the same. And so you both laid there in each other’s arms.
#azriel x reader#azriel imagine#azriel fanfic#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x you#azriel#acotar x reader#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#my writing#i did this around midnight don't judge me#good night now
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college art donaldson !!!
maybe something about him , tashi , reader , and patrick all being in a friend group at while in college. maybe patrick comes down to visit tashi and suggest an idea where they drive down to the beach and rent a beach house for a few days or something. while they’re there tashi and patrick start arguing leaving reader and patrick alone.
change whatever if u need to but js anything with college art , please !!
so i took a million years and definitely wrote too much but. finally. FINALLY. thank you sm for this request, i hope you like it :)
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beach trip
pairing: art donaldson (challengers, 2024) / afab reader [gender not specified]
word count: 3.9K
warnings & info: 18+, afab reader, NOT beta read lol (but nothing of mine ever is), college era art my love, friends to lovers, art and reader swim in their underwear lol, reader wears a bra, reader likes swimming, first time together, oral sex (reader receiving), p in v sex, safe sex (condom moment), art is a munch
summary: A group beach weekend sounded great- until Tashi and Patrick spent the whole drive bickering and the whole first night moments from pouncing on each other. Looks like you and Art will have to keep each other company.
☆
“Don’t let him scare you, he’s shit at board games. And card games. Just like he’s shit at tennis.”
You just blinked, eyes darting to Patrick to see how he’d react to Tashi’s dig. The nervous laugh to your left let you know Art was just as unsure as you were.
When Patrick had come to visit Tashi and suggested all four of you take a trip to a rental beach house, you knew being in close quarters with the both of them for a full 3 days would be interesting, at the least. You weren’t about to pass up on the beach trip, though- not when Patrick was covering the rent.
What you didn’t know was that they would be argue-flirting the entire way there, and every moment since you’d all arrived. It made sense, though- between Tashi rooming with you, Patrick not having a room since he wasn’t a Stanford student, and his long stretches between visits, they hadn’t had any time alone in a little over 2 months.
Their flirting was always a little angry- little jabs and remarks that would have made you wince if you were the target. For them, it just made the other’s eyes linger on their partner's lips for a little too long.
Patrick licked his lips before he responded. “Do you ever talk about anything else?” He asked, a lazy half smile on his face.
Tashi’s comeback was almost immediate: “Not like you give me anything else to talk about.” She leaned back on her hands, eyes raking over him from top to bottom.
Patrick seemed to enjoy the scrutiny. He leaned forward, that lazy smirk changing into a playful grin. “Yeah? I got something I could give you right now.”
Alright. That was your sign to go.
When you turned to Art, brows raised, he was already looking at you. You glanced from him to the door and back. You knew Patrick and Tashi would be on each other any second now, whether you two left or not, and you really didn’t want to get caught up in it.
Art nodded.
Your “I think I’m gonna call it a night” and Art’s “Uh, me too” fell on deaf ears as you two scrambled out of the room. Art had barely shut the door behind himself before you could hear those two pounce on each other, the board game you’d been playing definitely scattered and forgotten.
It made you snicker, like a middle school boy. One glance at Art and he was laughing too, a hand over his mouth, his red stanford baseball cap the only thing keeping his hair from falling into his eyes as he shook.
More noises from the room- a crash, then the dull thud of something falling to the carpet. You winced through your grin, then made your way down the hall toward the front porch, beckoning Art to follow you.
Outside, you placed your arms on the railing, leaning entirely on the rickety wood. In the cool night air, you couldn’t hear your roommate and her boyfriend getting it on like animals. You didn’t blame them, even if the angry flirting style wasn’t for you. If you had a partner who was always away, you knew you’d jump on them the moment they were in sight.
You glanced over as Art joined you, mimicking your posture. You knew there was a point, early freshman year, when he’d liked Tashi. It was hard to ignore how his smile dropped when he’d watch Patrick and Tashi reunite, thinking no one was watching. And you always recognized how lost he looked when he stared at her while the three of you had lunch- after all, you looked at him the same way.
Recently, though- over the year and a half you’d known the three of them- he was easing up on it. His smiles lingered long after he thought everyone had looked away. He didn’t even notice when Tashi walked into the cafeteria until you waved her down to sit with you guys. And now, next to you, he was grinning at their antics instead of grimacing.
He seemed to be over it. If only you could be so lucky.
“Like… animals,” Art said, glancing over at you. You were caught so off guard, you didn’t even remember to pretend you hadn’t been staring.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” You laughed, grinning. “They definitely needed that. Did you hear them in the back of the car on the way down here?”
Art groaned. “Oh my god, I thought they were gonna go at it right there.” He brought his voice an octave higher, lifting his chin in an imitation of Tashi that could’ve also passed for royalty- what was the difference, really. “‘You eat like shit. No wonder you play the same.’”
Immediately, you dropped your voice, giving him a coy side smirk and raising one eyebrow. “‘I’ll tell you what I’d rather eat.’”
The two of you doubled over, howling in laughter. Then, another crash from inside. Escaping them was going to be harder than you thought.
“You wanna head down to the water?” Art asked.
“Sure,” you said, smiling wide when he gave you a mock bow and let you lead the way.
The roar of the waves was comforting as you got closer, sand covering your bare feet- neither of you remembered to grab shoes- and the salty air filling your nose. The walk was silent, and the few minutes you spent standing at the edge of the ocean was, too. You watched it reach out toward you, then retreat back into the glittering blue-black. At some point, you closed your eyes.
“I’ve never swam in the ocean.”
Your eyes snapped open. Art was still looking out at the water, head tilted like an inquisitive puppy. The wind fought to ruffle the few curls that peaked out from under his hat. “Never?” You asked.
Art shook his head. “We didn’t really go when I was a kid, and I was way too scared, anyway. Then when I went with friends it was more about beach volleyball and drinking than actually swimming.” He looked over at you, then laughed. “I’m guessing from your face right now, you must love swimming in the ocean.”
You closed your mouth, which you hadn’t realized had fallen open, and shook your head. “Do I?” His incredulous head shake made you smile. A beat of silence. “Are you still scared of it?”
He took a moment to answer, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know. Not too scared to try, I guess.”
“Alright, wanna try?”
Art just tilted his head at you. You gestured toward your clothes, then the ocean, then to him. You could see it in his face when he caught on. “I’m not going in alone.”
You only took a second to think about it before you were tugging your t-shirt off and tossing it on the sand between you two. Your shorts came soon after. You already had one foot in the water when Art called your name, laughing so hard he could barely say it.
You shrieked at the cold as it hit your stomach, then sunk down to your shoulders, getting the shock over with all together. When you turned back toward the sand, you saw a shirtless Art running toward you in his boxers, moonlight tracing his chest and shoulders. He still had that fucking hat on. It made you grin.
He didn’t shriek when he hit the water, but he did take a lengthy inhale. You watched as he held his nose, screwed his eyes shut, and dunked himself up to his head. His hat bobbed just above the surface, and you picked it up and put it on yourself.
When he came back up, he shook his head, wet hair sending droplets flying. Art grinned, wiping water from his eyes and pointing at the hat on your head. “Thief.”
You rolled your eyes. “Next time I’ll just let it float away then, idiot.” It only made him grin harder. You waved your arms back and forth through the water, the cold easier to ignore when you moved. “So?”
“Hm?”
“Still scared?”
Again, he thought about it for a moment. “No, actually. I think I’m okay.”
You hummed, bringing a finger to your chin in mock deep thought. “What if there are sharks? I think you should be scared of sharks, probably.”
“Nah.” Art shook his head. “The sharks should be afraid of me. I’m the scariest thing here.” He lifted his arms out of the water to flex comically, chin lifted in comical pride.
You laughed, splashing him, making him yelp. “Okay, sure, macho man.”
“What, don’t believe me?”
You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips.
Before you knew it, Art had his arms around your middle, lifting you and dunking you in the water back first, like a baptism. You had all of two seconds to scream, then shut your eyes and mouth. He let you up immediately, wading away from you and toward the sand as you resurfaced, spluttering.
“Donaldson!” you shouted, though your serious tone was undermined by your beaming face. Somehow, his hat stayed on your head.
He’d gotten a little ways away from you, but you still had the advantage- you swam in the ocean every chance you got.
You surged toward him, biting back a cackle as his eyes widened in fear. You grabbed his shoulders, pushing off him and shoving him under the waves. He stayed under for a second- then two, then three, until you vaguely started to worry- before jumping out in front of you, wrapping his arms around your torso and making you all but scream.
“Holy shit!” You were giggling, wrapping your arms around Art’s neck for stability. “Isn’t it fun in here? You’ve been missing out.”
He didn’t respond for a moment, so you met his eyes. You hadn’t realized how close you were. It seemed like the realization was hitting him, too, as his eyes scanned your face. He glanced from your eyes to your lips and back. Despite the breeze and the water, your skin was suddenly very warm. You could feel every point where his body touched yours.
You knew what was happening- you could sense it. At least, you were pretty sure you knew. It’s the only thing that could come next, right?
… Maybe you were reading it wrong.
You hesitated. Then, suddenly, “God, it’s cold,” and you kicked off of him to dunk yourself in the water one more time, resurfacing a couple steps away and wading onto shore. When you looked back at him, you could almost convince yourself that the same disappointment that filled your chest was written on his face. “Come on!” You called cheerfully, and Art started after you, replacing the look with an amused smile.
You both put your clothes back on, if only to shield yourselves from some of the breeze on the short walk back. You were both silent as you neared the house, as you walked down the halls. Neither of you even remarked on how Tashi and Patrick had finally gone silent. When Art got to his door and stopped, though, you turned to him.
“Goodnight,” you said, willing your voice to sound less defeated than you felt. Your hands fiddled with the hem of your soaked shirt.
Art nodded. That look was back in his eyes, the one that looked just how you felt. “Goodnight.”
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
The shower was much needed and very welcomed. You took your time getting sand off of you as best as you could, working the water into your hair (you’d wash it tomorrow- you weren’t going through that whole workout this late). When you stepped out of the hot water, toweling yourself off, your eyes caught on the red Stanford baseball cap on the sink counter. You bit your lip and walked past it, into the connecting bedroom you were calling yours for the weekend.
Pajamas on, you sat at the edge of your bed, scrunching your hair mostly dry with a spare t-shirt you’d packed just for that. The crash of the ocean enveloped you through the open window.
You thought about it. About his arms around you and his chest against yours. About the way he’d looked at you and you’d known exactly what he was going to do. About his face when you’d second guessed yourself and ran away.
Fuck. Why did you run away?
When you got up and walked to the door, you grabbed the hat from the bathroom counter. You told yourself you were only going to return it, but something in the back of your mind laughed at your excuse.
You had just gotten to the door, lifting a hesitant hand to knock, when it swung open and you were met with a flushed, freshly showered, boxers-and-t-shirt clad Art Donaldson.
The two of you stared for a moment. You didn’t see the disappointment in his eyes anymore, but there was still something there. You were sure it was on your face, too.
You cleared your throat. “Hat,” you said, intelligently.
Art glanced at the hat in your slightly raised hand, then nodded. His eyes came back up to meet yours, then darted down to your lips. He opened his mouth and hesitated. “Do you wanna-”
You pushed forward, pressing your lips to his for just a moment, before pulling back, searching his eyes. He didn’t give you too long to think about what you’d just done, his hands flying to your waist, pulling you back toward him and kissing you again. Hard.
Art yanked you into the room, and you dropped the hat, the door shutting as he pushed you up against it. His hands found their way under your sleep shirt, settling on your bare waist, and one of yours cupped his cheek while the other thread through his hair. You tugged gently at the curls, and he sighed your name into your mouth.
You pulled back just long enough to murmur, “Bed?”
He obliged, grabbing your hand to lead you to the corner bed. His rental room was similar to yours, save for a warm, dull bedside lamp on, barely illuminating the room.
You both crawled onto the bed on your knees, leaning forward to pick up where you’d left. Art’s hands played with the hem of your shirt and you helped him lift it off of you. His shirt went next. He cupped your breasts tentatively, thumbs brushing over your nipples, his face watching yours like he wanted to see if he was doing this right. You pulled him back in for another kiss and bit his lip. He groaned.
“Lay back,” he murmured against your mouth.
You did as told, scooting up the bed and falling into his pillows. They smelled mostly of the air freshener the owner of the beach house had doused it with, but the vague hint of Art’s cologne permeated the room.
He kissed you again, holding himself up over you. He placed kisses down your neck, your shoulders, your collarbone. As one of his hands came to rest between your legs, pressing against you between your pants and underwear, he placed his mouth on one of your nipples. He bit at it gently, sucking immediately to make up for the hurt and moving his hand against you. Your breath stuttered and grew heavy, lips parting, as he moved to your other nipple.
Art pressed a kiss to your stomach next, trailing lower, eyes closed. You watched as he murmured against your skin, “You don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this.”
“Yeah?” ‘Sex with me or eating me out specifically?’ you wanted to ask. Instead, you bit your lip and watched him hook his fingers into the waistband of your pants and underwear, pulling them down together and tossing them on the floor. He pressed alternating kisses to each of your thighs, inching closer and closer. You could barely hear your voice when you asked, “Why didn’t you do anything?”
A shiver ran through you, partially from the vulnerability and cool air, partially from the way Art was looking at you- reverent. Devout. “I couldn’t imagine I’d be lucky enough.”
You wanted to say something back- something clever and sweet to let him know just how easily he could have had you- but his mouth was on you in less than a second, and all that you could do was let out an odd cross between a huff and a whine.
His tongue pressed flat against you- eager, almost desperate, like you were an oasis in the desert. His nose bumped your clit as he bobbed his head, switching between long strokes and focusing on sucking your clit. “Shit,” you whispered, your hand threading through his hair. He fell into a rhythm, the consistent vulgar noises of his mouth against you filling the room alongside your gasps and whines.
When his tongue pushed into you, your eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, Art,” you said, barely gripping his hair and faintly hoping that it wasn’t painful for him. He only whined at his name, a desperate noise, and pushed his face impossibly deeper. “I’ll- I’ll come if you keep-” You cut yourself off with a groan.
Art pulled back just enough to say, “I want you to. Please, let me taste it.” Immediately, his mouth was back on you, like he couldn’t keep himself away for long. You would’ve playfully chided him for being so filthy had you not been busy gripping his hair and letting curses fly.
You let your head fall back, hips rolling on their own accord, and he only adapted and let you ride his face and bring yourself to the edge. You came with a loud cry, thighs pressing in on his head, back lifting just slightly off the bed. Art didn’t back off as your high subsided, continuing until you’d come down and were laying there, panting.
You pushed yourself up to a sitting position, then pulled Art back up onto the bed. His eyes were glossy, much like the majority of his face, covered in you and his own spit. You put your hands on his cheeks, ignoring the sticky feeling and pulling him in for a rough kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue.
One of your hands wandered, trailing down his chest and coming to rest at the front of his boxers, palming him. He groaned.
“I wanna fuck you,” you said, pulling away to look him in the eye.
Art huffed a laugh. “You can’t say that to me. I’m not gonna last at all.”
That caught you off guard, and you laughed. “What?”
He shrugged coyly, almost smug as if his cheeks weren’t still flushed and glistening from his time spent between your legs. “I’m, like, halfway there already.”
Just from eating you out and a little petting? That was… surprisingly hot.
You told him as much, relishing in how deeply he flushed and how widely he grinned. You made him lie back on the bed. “Condoms?” You asked.
He nodded toward his bedside, to the backpack leaning against the nightstand. You raised an eyebrow at him before leaning off the bed to grab one. All he offered you was a shy smile.
You kissed his chest, making your way down to his waistband, and he watched, propped up on his elbows, like he was sure if he took his eyes off you you’d disappear. When you pulled down his boxers and tossed them aside, you wasted no time ripping the condom wrapper open and rolling it on.
Getting up on your knees, you hovered over him and lined your hips up with his. You gave him a quick glance. “This okay?”
He nodded, eagerly, and you could’ve broken at the sight. You sank onto him, gasping slightly at the sensation. Art watched your face, open mouthed, eyes never leaving yours. You almost wanted to look away, but the intensity was riveting.
With him now fully in you, you gave yourself a moment to adjust, hands settling on his chest as he gripped your thighs. You gave your hips an experimental push forward.
Art let out a groan that sounded somewhat like “Fuck” and “Ugh” put together. You repeated the motion, your mouth opening softly as you watched his eyes flutter open and shut. It was like he was struggling between giving into the feeling and watching you.
You increased your pace, head falling forward as you lifted your hips with each push. Art’s hands moved to grip your ass, eyes focused on you, little pants and whimpers escaping him as you moved. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured. You would’ve responded in kind, but he bucked his hips moments after and your head fell back with a moan.
With your hands now supporting you from behind, gripping the sheets, you rolled your hips with each lift. Art let out a particularly pathetic whine, and you grinned through your heavy breathing, gazing at him with heavily lidded eyes. “Close?” He nodded, his expression so desperate that you were sure he was right on the edge. You could feel yourself right behind him. “Cum for me then,” you panted.
Art groaned, one hand moving to press sloppy circles against your clit. You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, wanting to see his face as his orgasm hit him. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips parted as he panted and he whimpered. When his orgasm came, his eyes shut and he cried out, gripping you tightly and continuing to rub your clit, hips bucking into you involuntarily. You were only a second behind, “Fuck, Art!” the only thing you could say before your hips stuttered and your second orgasm washed over you.
Slowly, you came to a stop, panting and barely keeping yourself up. Your head was light, and you couldn’t wipe an exhausted smile off your face. When you finally felt like your arms wouldn’t give out, you lifted yourself off of him, collapsing on the bed between him and the wall, catching your breath.
Art removed the condom, tying it off and throwing it in the trash before turning to face you. His breathing was much more regular, but his chest still heaved. “...Fuck,” he said.
And you laughed, one arm over your eyes, the other clutching your stomach. “Yeah?”
He was grinning at you when your arm moved off your eyes, then leaning in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, your collar bone, your cheek. “Yeah,” he murmured. Silence fell over you both as you watched him intertwine your fingers and stare at them. His lip twitched, like he was working up the courage to say something. “I meant it, you know. I wanted this- you- I’ve liked you for… a while.”
You hummed, now suddenly also very interested in your intertwined fingers. “‘Liked,’ past tense? All done now?”
He rolled his eyes. “No, dumb-ass.” You smacked his arm, glancing up to find him looking at you now. “Like. Still. And probably will for a while.”
You felt your face warm. You kissed him. “I like you, too. Still do. Will for a while, etcetera.”
“Thank fucking god,” he said, and you couldn’t help but snort a laugh. When Art kissed you again, you could feel his smile against your lips, and you were sure he could feel yours.
#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x reader#challengers#art donaldson x you#art donaldson#art donaldson in stanford save me#art donaldson/reader#art donaldson/you#art donaldson fic#art donaldson imagine#challengers x reader#challengers imagine#challengers smut#challengers x you#mike faist x reader#mike faist smut#zee writes#my writing#challengers movie#challengers 2024#ao3#tashi duncan#patrick zweig#requests#asks
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🌊 Beach Babe 🌊
Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 1.5k
Summary: There’s no summary, this is just you and Marcus having a hot one night stand on the beach. It’s all corn, no plot
Content Warning: oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, praise kink (duh, have we met?), dirty talk
AN: This is my entry for the beautiful @mermaidgirl30’s Ocean Challenge. She is usually my beta but I wanted to surprise her so this is not beta read or proof read really, but it’s not like the internet is forever or anything haha. Dividers by @saradika-graphics. Friendly reminder that I’m no longer doing a tag list, please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for updates 🙂
“You can do it, baby. Yeah. Fuck, just relax your throat.” His voice is a heady whisper. You squeeze the meat of his upper thigh like he showed you and he pulls you off of him. Salvia and pre cum falling onto your tits, the triangle cups of your wet swimsuit are tucked underneath them, holding them high for the stranger that just had his dick pressing against the back of your throat.
His thumb reaches down and swipes across your swollen bottom lip. “Good girl,” he praises. “Let me know when you're ready for more.”
You haven’t even caught your breath yet and you’re already nodding your head, you’re not above begging if that’s what he wants. “More. Now. Please, I want more.”
His hands tangle back into your hair, he looks around the sand dunes and tall grasses that keep you somewhat protected to ensure you don’t have any visitors before he thrusts roughly into your mouth. You hold back a gag, closing your eyes and trying to breathe through your nose.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” he whines softly when you push your tongue past your bottom lip to swipe your tongue along his balls. He yanks you off him and you gasp out, sucking in the cool salty air of the ocean just behind you.
“Fuck me,” you coo, pulling at the baby pink drawstrings that are holding up your bottoms. They fall to the soft sand with a wet smacking sound. His eyes fall to the apex of your thighs and he licks his lips hungrily.
“Get on all fours, now.” You smile at the rough commanding tone, spin your ass towards him and get on your hands and knees. He lets out a groan as you arch your back enticingly.
When Pike was assigned a new trainee in California he wasn’t overly thrilled about it. He had finally settled in DC after what he’d been through the last time he was in this state. However, ego aside, he was the best in the country at this job, and the training would only take a few weeks. The guy he was training had an impressive resume, he was probably more educated on art than Pike himself. He didn’t want to think about that now though, he’ll meet him tomorrow. Right now he wants to focus on this insatiable ball of need that was pushing her pert little ass out at him. He’s not sure what came over him when he saw you sitting in the sand, but he knew he would be fucking you before he left, and with the beach pretty much deserted as the sun started to set he made his move.
“I’m Elle,” you had said as you shook his hand, biting your bottom lip.
It wasn’t long after he said his name was Marcus that the two of you were ducking between the dunes and grass and he had his swollen cock rammed down your throat.
He lowers himself to the sand, tracing a thick finger through your folds, spreading your wetness. He swirls your clit and you cry out in pleasure, “Gotta be quiet for me, sweet girl.”
You nod and hum in agreement as he slips two fingers deep inside you. To stay quiet you focus on your breathing. Short, laboured breaths in and out, in and out. He twists his wrist to be palm down, watching the way your tiny pink entrance sucks at his fingers, the way your juices squeeze out, and then he curls his fingers forward and every nerve in your body tingles. Marcus has never had an issue finding that spot before.
You gasp, the salty air burning your lungs as you try to keep your noises to nothing but hushed whimpers. “Good girl. Stay quiet. That’s it.”
He picks up the pace, pushing and pushing on that spongy spot inside you before bringing his free hand around, his middle finger easily finding your swollen clit. Your arms buckle at the pleasure of it all, landing on your elbows, opening yourself up to him more. You bite the skin of your forearm as the pleasure starts to reach its peak.
“Come on, you can do it. I can feel how close you are. Squeezing my fingers so tight. Let go, baby, let go.”
Just as you start to come he pulls his fingers out and slams his rock hard cock inside of you. The welcome stretch has you coming harder than you ever have before, back arched like you’re in some sort of tantric yoga pose. His cock is so buried so deep that you can feel it pressing into your cervix. He doesn’t stop the tight circles of your clit as you clench around him tightly, body twitching and legs shaking at the feel of him.
You thought you were just going to have a relaxing evening on the beach, a nice way to celebrate the promotion you recently received at work. Truthfully, what better way to celebrate than being fucked into oblivion by a handsome stranger.
As your orgasm begins to morph into overstimulation you release you teeth from your forearm, deep red and purple marks left behind. You voice comes out breathy and you almost don’t recognize it as your own, “Fuck me now. Just fuck me. Please.”
“Not gonna last long,” he says as he pulls out to the tip and thrusts hard back into you.
“I don’t care, just fucking give it to me, Marcus.” His hands grip your hips tightly as he repeats the same motion. Pulling out torturously slow, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein of his heavy cock, before he slams back in.
“Ready?” He hums, his hips pressed firmly to your ass.
“Yesss,” you whisper.
He starts to really fuck you. Its fast and hard and with every thrust you can feel his dick swelling bigger. He bruises the walls of your slick pussy with the pace he’s setting, all while whispering praises about how good you are and how well you're taking him. “Should see how much this little pussy loves being stretched. She’s crying for me, baby.”
“Cum all over my back. I wanna feel it.” You moan.
“Fuckfuck - oh god, such a good girl for me.” He pulls out roughly, strings of your arousal and his pre cum keeping you connected temporarily before he grips his cock and pumps into his fist.
You look over your shoulder to watch him. He looks wrecked, his outgrown hair all messy, eyebrows fused together as he looks at your ass with glazed over eyes. With a shuddering breath he comes, coating your ass and back in warm white ropes of cum. He sits back on his heels and admires his painting. Smirking to himself he says, “Look like a work of art, baby.”
After a few calming breaths he grabs your swimsuit bottoms and wipes off his cum. “Stay here,” he says, slipping his red swimsuit back on and after a careful look around he jogs over the sand dune. You stay there, almost fully naked with your ass in the air waiting for him.
Marcus rinses the cum off your bottoms in the ocean and then jogs back to you. He helps you up and watches you put your swimsuit back on. As you grab your cover up from your bag he says, “Well, that was fun. Unexpected, but fun.”
“I agree,” you say, feeling your cheeks warm.
“I’m - umm, well I’m just visiting for a few weeks but if you wanted to see each other -“
You cut him off, “You don’t have to do that. It’s really ok if this was just a one time thing.”
He nods.
You grab your stuff and after you two smile at each other sweetly you turn to start to walk back to your condo.
“Elle,” he calls after you. You stop and turn to face him. “What if I don’t want this to be a one time thing?”
You laugh and shake your head. You call back, “Then you better be at the beach tomorrow around eight.”
When you wake in the morning you can still feel the dull ache of Marcus all over your body. The back of your throat, in between your thighs, the bite mark on your arm and the small bruises on your hips. He’s still everywhere and you relish in it.
You start your new job today, so after finding a long sleeve blouse to cover your teeth marks, and doing your best to look both professional and serious you head to your new office building.
You trace your fingers over the nameplate on your door. They’ve used your full name and you’ll have to ask them to update that to Elle, people always assume things when they see your full name.
You put your bag down and log into your computer just as you hear a soothing, deep and friendly voice travel down the hallway.
“Good morning. I’m looking for Elliot Hall. I’m supposed to be training him for the next few weeks.” Your spine stiffens. You know that voice.
No way. There’s no way.
The receptionist giggles, “Elliot is a female. Her office is second door on the right. She just got in.”
His shoes click on the hardwood of the hallway, each step closer has your heart racing. There’s a quiet knock on your open door and when you look up you lock eyes with Marcus.
#marcus pike x f!reader#marcus pike fluff#marcus pike x female reader#marcus pike x reader#marcus pike x you#marcus pike fanfiction#marcus pike#Marcus pike fan fic#the mentalist#the mentalist fanfiction#pedro stories#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal smut
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Summary: You were enjoying a peaceful moment in the cafe when a man came to sit across from you at the table. Something in you changed.
Pairing: Yunho x fem!reader
Tropes: meet cute, nonidol au, strangers to something more
Genre: fluff
Rating: PG
Warnings: language
Word Count: 794
Note: for @cultofdionysus language of flowers event! Thank you to @anyamaris for proof/beta reading!
Prompt: Magnolia - Natural
This is one of your favorite places. Being in this small little hole-in-the-wall cafe, peacefully crocheting while enjoying the low, peaceful music. Not many people know about this place. The Magnolia isn’t a known place, even by locals, even if it is on a rather busy street. That being the case, there isn’t much seating. You’re sat in the back corner of the establishment, and the lull of the employees talking and the music easily puts you into the zone with your current project.
“Excuse me?” Someone calls.
Looking up, you see a young man, probably about your age, with a soft smile on his lips. You lower your project into your lap and give him your full attention.
“Hmm?” You hum in response.
“Is this seat taken?” He questions, gesturing to the chair across from you.
You shake your head, “No, it’s all yours.”
The chair scrapes against the hardwood flooring as he pulls it out. You go back to your project, fully ready to get lost in your work again. Then, in your peripheral vision, you see him pull out a book along with a pencil. The book isn’t academic, though; it’s a copy of the first Harry Potter book.
“First reading?” You question, not looking up from the yarn in your hands.
“Hmm?” He hums back, “Oh, no, it’s not I just wanted to reread it and annotate this time. What are you making?”
“Just a scarf. Nice and straightforward. I know it’s almost summer but I might as well get ahead of schedule with making things my family are bound to ask me for in a few months.”
“I like the yarn color. Baby blue is a good color, especially for winter.” He comments, “I’m Yunho.”
You look up from the yarn and smile at him, telling him your name in return. You start humming to the song as you crochet again. Yunho mumbles lightly when he places the book down and starts underlining a large section of the page. Giggling, you look up from the yarn again.
“Something you didn’t notice before?”
“No, I just fucking hate the Dursleys.” He grumbles, jotting down a little comment in the margins of the book.
“They had their reasons, though.” You comment.
He sighs, “I suppose so, but they did abuse the poor kid.”
“Yeah,” you nod, “but when you realize they did the things they did overcompensate the wish to protect Harry, it makes more sense. It doesn’t excuse their behavior in any way, but it does make sense.”
Yunho sits back in his chair and sighs, “You read the whole series?”
“Of course,” you chuckle, starting to work on your scarf more, “I read it when I was little, and I read it as an adult, too.”
“Any commentary on how useless Dumbledore was?”
“At first, he was useful…” you start, still crocheting as you speak, “By the end of the series… I’m still trying to figure out why he was letting kids and teenagers do his bidding. That doesn’t make any sense at all. There are plenty of adults who are more trained in magic, and he was literally the wielder of the elder wand… he could’ve done so much to prevent things.”
You and Yunho continue to chat about the book series and the gripes you each have with it. From there, your conversations branch off into other books and further into topics outside of literature. Speaking with this man you just met seems so natural, as if you were in your own novel and were destined to meet this man on a random day in a small little cafe. By the time you finish your scarf, you realize that it’s drawing close to evening. Looking at the time, you let out a puff of air. Yunho seems to have noticed your slightly upset state.
“You okay?”
“They’ll be closing soon… Probably means we should both be heading out.”
Yunho sighed, pursing his lips, “You know about the little restaurant downtown?”
“Which one?”
“It’s small. Not many people know about it. Kinda like this place. It’s called Lavender Forget-Me-Not…” He chuckles, “This town really loves flower-named establishments, huh?”
“I suppose they do.” you match his sentiment, “Is that an offer to go together?” You tease slightly.
Yunho chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “Is it too presumptuous to offer that?”
You shake your head, “Absolutely not. It’s a date.”
You put your yarn and finished project in your tote bag before standing up. Yunho follows suit, tucking his book under his arm. Even if you met this man a few hours ago, it all feels so natural to be around him and spend time with him. This could go somewhere, and you can’t wait to find out.
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Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity
Tag List: @sanjoongie @jaehunnyy @ericssmile @anyamaris @almondmilkeu @shinestarhwaa @northerngalaxy @jwnghyuns
#codn: spring24#yunho fluff#yunho x reader#cultofdionysusnet#kwritersworldnet#kvanity#ateez fanfic#ateez fluff#ateez x reader#yunho fanfic
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LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE - JOEL MILLER
ft. joel miller x puppy hybrid!reader
a/n: i'm actually very proud of this fic ngl to you guys. been wanting to write for tlou for the LONGEST time and... you know i had to make my debut w joel :3 first time trying to dive into writing more than just smut, so lemme know what you think !! rbs and feedback always appreciated !! thank you @ama-szn for betaing x
cw: 18+ content, brief mention of sarah and guilt, grinding, p in v, creampie, grinding, slight cockwarming, praise, puppy gets used a lot... joel being snappy and a mild asshole at times, tail play???
word count: 4.1k words
Now, Joel isn't always the smartest guy around. He has a tendency to get a little blunt, to put it nicely, and he isn't the type to do charity work. Being nice has never done him any favours, so he sees no point in acting all buddy-buddy just for the hell of it.
In saying that, he's starting to think he has a problem collecting strays. It started with Ellie, and now he's starting to see a habit forming when he comes across you. By all accounts, he should have left you in the corner of that beat up store. You'd been a good enough distraction to the Clickers with your incessant whining that Joel could have snuck by undetected.
Well, like he said, he's got a stray problem — and it's hardly good manners to leave a girl in trouble when he can help out. He aims his pistol, frowns as you flinch at the sounds of the shots as he takes them down. Lucky for the both of you, there's only two of them, but he still uses way more ammo than he'd like.
Joel has to double take when he gets a good look at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he crouches in front of you. He has half a mind to put a bullet through your skull, but something about the way you look has him hesitating. You're a cute enough girl, a little scruffy looking, maybe, but cute nonetheless. That isn't what has him staring at you like you're some kind of exhibit, though.
"You got... are those fuckin' ears, kid?" He tries to keep his voice low, not only 'cause you're shaking so hard you're practically vibrating, but he doesn't want to find out if those Clickers had any buddies nearby. He tenses up slightly when he notices movement behind you, his brows furrowing as he squints to get a closer look. "Don't tell me that's a tail you're hidin' back there."
Your ears perk up slightly at the sound of his voice, your eyes flicking over his face as your whines die down. You lift the tail, showing off the dirt-ridden, matted fur before letting it flop to the floor once again, tilting your head to the side.
"I'll be damned... Now I'm seein' things." Joel is almost sure that you're a hallucination, or maybe he's finally snapped. He reaches out, pokes the tip of your right ear. It's hard for him to stop himself from frowning when the fur is soft and warm underneath his fingertips, the thing twitching under his touch. They sure don't seem fake. He isn't seeing things, you're real and you're sitting right in front of him. "Can you talk, girl? I'm startin' to feel like a crazy old man, here.”
You blink at him slowly for a moment, like you have to think hard about his words. You nod your head softly, your eyes not straying from him. Your voice is quiet when you reply, breathless and shaky. “Y-yeah… I can talk.”
"Well. That's somethin’.” Joel lets out a breath he didn’t realize he'd been holding in. There's a moment of relief that washes over him in a wave. At least he isn't going completely insane, unless he's hallucinating your voice, too. "We gotta get movin', girl. The gunshots would've gotten every infected for miles gatherin' round, we don't have much time before they come sniffin' around here to see what's goin’ on.”
You nod once again, pushing yourself to your feet. He can see your features a little better now, and he tries not to let his eyes linger on that tail of yours for too long.
You don't seem like much of a talker, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. At least you won't go yapping at him when he's gotta concentrate. It wouldn't do either of you any good if he went and got killed because you couldn't keep your trap shut. You're probably the quietest stray he's managed to pick up. Ellie can talk for hours when she gets going, which...is most of the time, if he's being honest. You're more cautious than she ever was, though, watching him carefully as he stands and takes a look around the room to gather supplies.
Joel checks back on you, not missing the way you're shivering. He frowns, taking off his jacket before holding it out to you. "Here, put this on.”
You don't take the jacket, or so much as answer him. His frown deepens, and he lets out a frustrated sigh, pulling the jacker over your shoulders. “It's just a damn jacket. It won't kill ya.”
The way you stare at him is starting to get unnerving, so he turns away from you to continue throwing anything of use into his backpack. Store's already been raided, though, so he seems to be left with the scraps. Just his luck — scraps and strays. All he ever seems to get.
“Thanks.” You end up saying softly after a moment, and when Joel looks back at you again, that little tail is wagging and you're wearing his jacket properly. He catches himself smiling, so he's quick to turn away, grabbing the map from his backpack before zipping it up. He's always had a thing for pretty girls in his clothes, but he's not gonna admit that.
“Don't mention it, kid.”
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
It's been about a week since Joel first saw you, and he's doing his best to keep his distance. You seem to settle in fairly nicely in Jackson — or, at the very lease, you fit in well enough with Ellie. Joel's having more than enough conflicting feelings around you to last a lifetime, and you're just a pup. You're already having to adjust to a new environment, you don't need someone like him confusing things.
That doesn't mean he can't watch you from afar, though. He's not sure he'd be able to stop himself if he tried. He can't help but watch as you and Ellie play together, noting how much brighter and happier you look since that day he saved you. Your tail wags so fast it's a blur behind you, your fur soft and fluffy now that it's been washed and brushed out.
Joel likes you more than he'd care to admit. He's already got enough people to worry about, between Tommy and Ellie, and everyone else in the damn community. He doesn't need to add you to that list.
Problem is, Ellie's gotten to know Joel, and she still hasn't grown out of being a little shit. As soon as she catches him sitting a little ways away from where she's playing with you, she decides it'd be real funny to throw the stick right at him. Joel barely has the time to catch the thing before you're on him, practically tackling in an attempt to get it from him.
“Alright… alright.” His tone comes out a little harsher than intended, and he can't help but feel bad as you shrink back, those fluffy ears pressing down against your head. Your tail stopped wagging, too, and you're giving him that kicked dog look. Makes him feel like a monster.
“Shit, I didn't mean-” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose after he sets the stick down, patting his lap for you to come closer again. He reaches out, scratching the base of one of your ears with a small smile. “You're alright, girl. Just… easy, yeah? No need to jump all over me.”
That seems to placate you enough, and all seems to be forgiven. You nod and lean into his touch, that cute tail of yours picking up tenfold. There's something oddly soothing about petting you, so he decides to indulge you a little, leaning back against the porch railings as he sits on the steps.
It isn't until he notices your droopy eyes and the way you're slowly inching closer to him, practically curled up on his lap, that he realizes the sun is setting, and he wasted most of the day with you. He can't bring himself to mind.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
What is it they say about stray dogs? You feed them once, and they're yours? Joel can't recall, but he's sure he's somehow managed to adopt a little pup with how you cling to him. He tried locking you out of his room one night, and he couldn't sleep with the way you clawed at the door, whining and whimpering to be let in.
You sleep with him now, and he can't say he dislikes the warmth your body brings when he curls up with you every night.
He's got his arm curled around your waist, that fluffy tail of yours resting between his legs and still somehow wagging as he spoons you. He can't help but rub little circles into your stomach with his thumb, his nose pressed against the nape of your neck. For a moment, he finds himself wondering how receptive you'd be if he started kissing the skin there, letting his breath ghost the spot where your baby hairs rest.
That's a dangerous line of thinking, one that he quickly snaps out of. He lets out a sigh, closing his eyes to try and get some rest. You must sense that he's tense, cause you start wriggling around in his arms until you're facing him.
“Joel?” You breathe out, nuzzling his neck with your nose. He can feel your breath on him, and he grits his teeth not to make an audible sound as you lick at him. It's supposed to be a comforting gesture, but it has him squirming for a whole number of reasons.
“I can feel you worryin’, pup. You ain't gotta stress about me.” He murmurs, gripping your hair gently to pull your face away from his neck. He can't focus with your tongue on him like that.
“You look sad.” You whine, pulling against the grip of his hair to keep licking at him. He knows you're just trying to cheer him up, but it's really not helping the way his dick is starting to swell. It's not your fault, you don't know what you're doing to him, but he feels sick letting himself get turned on by your innocent actions.
“Just - go to fuckin’ bed, alright?” He snaps, tugging you away hard enough he knows it probably stung a little. His mouth grows dry, an apology on the tip of his tongue as he watches you retreat, eyes shining with unshed tears.
“C'mon, girl. I didn't mean that, I just…” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, his features etching into a frown. “Look, just… c’mere, alright? I'm sorry.”
He shifts so he's lying on his back, doing his best to make sure you don't press up against him when he's in this state. He holds an arm out, and you come rushing forward, tucking yourself against his side. You really are like a dog, always running back to him. He doesn't like how it makes him feel.
His jaw tenses as he shuts his eyes, trying to block out the guilt festering in him as he feels wet tears against the front of his shirt. He can hear your quiet sniffles, but he has no idea how to comfort you, so he doesn't.
Joel does what he does best — pretends the issue isn't there. He scratches behind your ears until you drift off, but sleep doesn't come for him that night. He spends the rest of his time staring at the ceiling, waiting for the morning sun to come through the widows before he carefully removes himself from your slumbering form.
He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, tucking the covers around your body before he leaves the room. What he needs right now is a cold shower and a little hunting trip with Tommy to keep his mind off of things.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
The first thing he's greeted with after returning from his supply run is a sobbing pup. He didn't expect to see you so worked up — barely giving him enough time to dismount his horse before you were clinging to him, ears pulled back on your head and tail limp as you cried into his chest.
“Hey… hey, now. What's the matter, girl?” He whispers, dropping his bag to the floor so he can hug you back, one hand sliding down your back to scratch the base of your fluffy tail. “C'mon, now. I wasn't gone for that long, was I?”
“You didn't say bye.” Your words are muffled against his chest, that whiny tone still in your voice, but he can see the way your tail starts moving at his touch. Makes him feel a bit better about leaving you so suddenly. “You always say bye…”
“I didn't do it on purpose, sweetheart. You were sleepin’.” He says with a chuckle, unable to hide his amusement as you pressed against him. Felt like you were trying to become a part of him with how desperately you attempted to get closer.
“But… you were gone, and… I didn't know where you went.” You whisper, hands gripping onto his shirt tight enough that the fabric stays wrinkled when you let go in favor of hugging him.
“Doesn't mean I was leavin’ you. Just had to get some supplies.” He replies, even if it's technically a lie. It can never hurt getting some more stuff, but a group only went patrolling the day before he left. He did need the time away from you, to clear his head. He just couldn't let you know that.
“And, hey. I was thinkin’ of you the whole time. I even got you a lil’ somethin’.” He says after a moment, grabbing your shoulders to pry you off of him. He ignores the ache in his heart at your little whine in favor of unzipping his bag, holding something up and squeaking it.
Your eyes light up at the sound, and he really can't help the smile that spreads across his face at the sight. He throws the squeaky ball and watches you chase after it, laughing when you return with it in your mouth, biting down over and over to hear the noise.
“There we are. That's my girl.” He murmurs, ruffling your hair before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, squeezing you against his side. “C'mon, let's go and find Ellie. We got some catchin’ up to do, don't we?”
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
Joel must be getting soft with old age. That's really the only explanation for what's going on. He's letting you sit on him like you're a damn lapdog all because you looked like you wanted a cuddle.
You look so damn cute, too. That tail of yours is going to be the death of him. Joel's heart does not flutter when you smile all prettily at him, nor does it flutter when you rub your face against his neck like you're trying to get his scent all over you.
No. Joel's heart is as cold as ice. He doesn't get warm, fuzzy feelings from cute puppy hybrids, and he certainly doesn't clear his throat to stop himself from saying something unbelievably sappy and embarrassing.
“You comfy there, darlin’? Like havin’ me take care of ya?” He murmurs, not missing the way his breath catches in his throat when you hum in agreement, licking at his skin. You don't seem to notice, so he doesn't mention it. Small mercies.
Maybe it's the whiskey, or maybe it's the way your warmth seeps into him and makes his heart race that has his brain malfunctioning, but he can't stop himself from saying what's been on his mind the past few weeks.
“You're such a pretty girl…” He whispers, nuzzling his nose against your hairline before pressing a gentle kiss there. His hands slide down to your waist, giving you a little squeeze. “So fuckin’ pretty. My pretty pup, ain't ya, sweetheart?”
That tail picks up again and he chuckles, sliding a hand down your back to scratch the base of your tail, tuning in to the steady thump, thump, thump of it slapping against his thighs. He gives your tail a little squeeze, stroking his hand over the fur.
“Ain't no hidin’ how you really feel with a tail like that.” He says with a small laugh, eyes locked onto the way your tail moves as he leans forward, pressing kisses down the side of your throat. He grins against your skin as your tail starts wagging faster, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh.
“Yeah? Y’like that, puppy?” He coos, the hand on your tail shifting to grab your ass, giving the plump flesh a little squeeze. The feeling of it has him groaning, his cock already starting to fill out. It's been a long, long time since he's gotten laid, and he'd be lying if he said he hasn't been having some conflicting feelings surrounding you as of late.
All he gets is a whine in response, your body shifting just a little closer to him. Joel grabs your hips, pushing you down against his lap so he can grind up against you, a grunt spilling past his lips. He glances back at your tail, rutting against you with more force when he sees the steady wag, the sight of it making his cock twitch with interest.
“God. Good fuckin’ girl.” He breathes out, rocking you against him for another minute before it gets too much for him. He can feel you soaking the fabric of your shorts, and he’s starting to get a little dizzy with all the blood in his body rushing south. He’s so hard it hurts, and he can’t help himself as he tugs off your shorts and underwear in one tug, unbuttoning his jeans and yanking his boxers down just enough so he can free his length from the constricting fabric.
You’re so wet he can sink into you in one thrust, holding you steady as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, panting softly as he takes a moment to catch his bearings. He presses his lips to the skin there, trailing kisses along the column of your throat. You’re so wet and tight and warm, and it's a struggle for Joel not to blow his load early with how much you’re squeezing around him.
”Pretty, pretty girl. You’re doin’ so well.” He murmurs as he starts to thrust up into you, the sounds of your little gasps and moans making his head spin. His grip on your hips tightens so he can guide you up and down his length, helping you move with every drag of his cock. The room fills with slick sounds as he fucks up into you, his head tilting back as he lets out a breathy moan.
He leans forward to kiss you, swallowing your whimpers as he slides his tongue into your mouth. The taste of smoke and whiskey lingers between the two of you, his teeth biting down on your bottom lip to give it a little tug before he pulls away, running his tongue over his teeth. He starts to bounce you on his cock, grunting as your walls flutter around him as he pounds into you. He reaches around to grip your tail, tugging on it to encourage you to keep riding him. His fingers play with the fur there, the upper half of your tail continuing to wag where it’s free from his hold.
”Makin’ such a mess, sweetheart. Soakin’ my jeans.” He huffs, grinding his tip against your sweet spot before he pulls you up by the tail, leaving only the tip of his cock in before yanking you back down with a groan. You’re so wet you’re dripping all down his shaft, soaking his balls and making the fabric bunched up beneath them wet with arousal.
”Gonna make you cum for me, pup. Then I’m gonna fill you up. You want that, girl?” He grits out between thrusts, brows pinching together as he watches you nod eagerly. He has to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning too loudly as his words make your cunt clench around him, trying to milk him dry.
”Alright, alright. I got you, doll.” He lets go of your tail, grabbing your hips to bury himself to the hilt inside of you. He adjusts the both of you a little so he can make you grind against his pelvis while keeping him nice and deep. He rocks your hips, making you grind your clit against his happy trail, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment at the friction the movement brings.
”Shit-“ He hisses as he feels you tensing around him, your orgasm sending him over the edge right after you. His jaw clenches as he shoots ropes of cum deep inside of you, his body slumping against the couch when he’s left spent and twitching inside your needy cunt.
”Just…” He starts after a moment, hands moving to rub up and down your back gently, coaxing you to lean against him. “Stay like this for me, yeah? You did good, pup. Such a good girl.”
He relaxes when you snuggle up to him, his softening cock nestled deep inside of you. There’s something oddly comforting about it, and it’s not long before he’s got his face buried in the crook of your neck, slowly dozing off as he runs his fingers through the fur on your tail. He thinks he could get used to this. He’s really starting to like having you around.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
Joel's gotten into the habit of leaving you with Ellie when he has to go on those long patrols. He's never sure if he's gonna make it back, and there's no one in the world he trusts with you more than Ellie. He knows if something went wrong, the two of you would look after eachother, and that's enough to lessen the gnawing anxiety building in his chest whenever he has to leave.
Last thing he expects to see when he pushes open the door to his room is you and Ellie sleeping all curled up on his bed. It catches him off guard for a moment, but it's not long before a small smile breaks its way onto his face. He brushes some hair out of Ellie's eyes and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, giving you a small scratch behind the ears.
He sneaks his way out of the room, settling himself on the couch. He knows his back’s gonna be protesting the sleeping arrangement, especially after slumming in the past few days on the ground, but he can't find it in himself to care. He curls up awkwardly, letting out a grunt when his too-big frame can't fit fully on the couch.
Despite his discomfort, he feels content for the first time in a long while. He hasn't felt this kind of happiness since Sarah. For once, the thought that he could be happy without her, no matter how much he mourns her, doesn't fill him with dread. The guilt is still there, the thoughts of 'what if', but he lets himself feel them. He knows they're never gonna leave him, and there's no point trying to force them away.
He never wants to forget Sarah, to replace her. There's always gonna be a massive space in his heart that's taken up by her, and there's no one that's gonna change that. But for once, he thinks he's happy with the little family he's got. The strays he's collected. He knows he can honor her memory by doing his best to survive, act like a dad she could've been real proud of.
Joel isn't a very religious man, but he knows he'll see his daughter again, one day. He cries himself to sleep that night, but for once the sobs that rack his body aren't filled with dread. It isn't him giving up, sitting around feeling sorry for himself.
They're tears of exhaustion, yes. But also relief. Hope. He can start again, live his life how he should've been these past few years. Really live, instead of just forcing himself to keep pushing through. Not just for you, but for Ellie. Tommy, too.
His family.
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permanent fix
soulmate au + a/b/o
paring: alpha atsumu x fem beta reader
warnings: bullying, atsumu is not nice, smut, slight breeding kink, biting, blood, choking, mirror sex, possessiveness, jealousy, alpha rut, atsumu talks shit, dramatic atsumu
word count: 2.2k
english is not my first language. please excuse any mistakes
Born as a beta, you never thought fate would toy with you by giving an alpha as your soulmate. Especially not one like Miya Atsumu, the one whom you went to school through college with and still having to see his face ever so frequently as if he had sworn to never let you live in peace.
For someone who made faces when seeing the lunchboxes your mom packed for you and proclaimed a beta was weak when you first presented at fifteen, Miya Atsumu couldn’t seem to detach himself from you.
So when you had a crush on one of your colleagues at twenty five, having his nose in your business as usual, Atsumu knew instantly.
“Another beta.” Lying comfortably on your couch, Atsumu scoffed. “Predictable.”
“Didn’t ask for your opinions.”
“I’m giving it anyway,” he said in a singsong voice, but his face was without mirth. “You can fuck whoever you want, but I’m getting my fix. That’s non-negotiable.”
Oh, yeah. His fix.
He patted his lap. “Come here.”
Then it all began again. Him cradling you in his lap, hands going all over, lips spilling hateful words.
‘Weak fucking beta.’ He would say. ‘Even Osamu got an omega soulmate. Makes me jealous as fuck.’
But then he would kiss you like the world might end tomorrow, doing everything opposite of what he said. This time was no different. His hot tongue was everywhere he could reach, acquainted itself with yours before leaving a wet trail down your neck.
You protested when he nipped a little too hard, scared he might leave marks. He did that once. The deep purple hickey you saw in the mirror after he left your apartment scared the shit out of you. A little more force and teeth could have broken the skin, and that thought caused chills to run all over your body. You didn’t want to bear his marks.
Yet, Atsumu didn’t care. He never did. His hands were now on your buttocks, squeezing hard through your thin pajama bottoms. He moved you to one of his thighs for better concentration. The hands on your butt now rolled your hips back and forth, to the point your moan finally slipped out of your tightly zipped lips and you forgot about the harsh nibbling on your neck.
“Go whore yourself out,” Atsumu whispered. “Like I fucking care.”
Same here, asshole.
You thought, didn’t say out loud.
Touching each other lifted the heavy weight in the heart caused by the act of not accepting the soulmate bond. Nothing more, nothing less. If not for this calling of intimacy both of you obliged to feel, he wouldn’t be here. You knew that. He said it way too many times.
Still, your cheeks were licked, your lips were tasted, neck wet with saliva. You felt like a prey about to be eaten every time he was close. Yes, he may not care. But he sure was possessive enough of things that were given to him.
Whenever you tried to wiggle out of his firm grasp, he tightened his fist. This time was the hardest you ever felt.
—
In more than twenty years of knowing each other, never once did Atsumu come to you when he had gone into rut. So when he called you two in the morning one week after his last fix, ordered you to pack a bag and tell your boss you would be on leave for a week, you were baffled. It was never more than kisses and touches with him. Your clothes were always intact and on. The idea of that being changed had you flat out saying no.
That didn’t stop Atsumu from coming to get you one hour later though. When he saw that you did nothing to get ready, his jaw was clenched. A split second later, he packed your bag himself, shoving clothes and toiletries in without any care. You were still in pajamas when the passenger door was slammed closed and he hit the gas.
—
There were reasons why betas are not for alphas. Physically, they were incompatible. Betas weren’t designed for alpha’s stamina, not to mention one in rut. At one point, you did not care to count anymore how many times you had blacked out. Fading in and out really fucked with your memory. All you remembered was the non-stop pounding, Atsumu’s breath against your face, and his uncharacteristic cooing, praising you as his good girl.
“Knew you were built for me.” The blond menace pulled on both of your wrists, never stopped his thrusting. “Let me knot you again, okay?” When you shook your head, face wet with tears, Atsumu shushed you softly. “Shhhhh. You can do it, I know you can.”
And you could. But it was not without pain.
“Shouldn’t have waited this long,” Atsumu said close to your lips. “You almost got away.”
He talked too much. But it would have been a big fat lie to deny that his words didn’t turn you on. That his vile confession didn’t affect you.
“Bold of you to even think I would let someone else touch you.” He sounded out of breath, closing to his end. “All the effort goes to waste. No no no no.”
You felt it coming, just seconds before. Then your whole body was taken by the waves of thrills and your whole vision turned white. Atsumu was not your first, but as if he was the harbinger of agony, it hurt when he first penetrated, hurt when he knotted. And when you felt a sharp sting at your sensitive neck, you knew he defied the rule of nature once again by marking you.
Fruitless. That was what it would be. Betas were not made for alphas. Mating bites did not forge any bond with the wrong person and would fade over time. But Atsumu had always been stubborn. One bite turned into two, three, then countless. All you felt was pain and the wetness of blood before darkness took your consciousness like the many rounds before.
—
The mating bites faded within two weeks, all except the first mark, proving to you that even biology could not win over destiny. Same went with all other beta-alpha soulmate couples out there after you had done some research. They were rare, but they were there. You shouldn’t have let Atsumu bite you. Should have known better that things could get weird when it came to soulmates. Now, he wouldn’t get off your ass, had the audacity to move his things to your apartment and yours to his, calling you his girlfriend in front of everyone and expecting to see you at his games.
You didn’t even like volleyball to begin with. And as you watched his magnificent tosses to any players he deemed to have high chances to score, you thought of a way to get out of his clutch.
He needed an omega, the correct designation he always longed for. Because even with all the protective caresses and the promise to never let you go, Atsumu was still mean. Like going back to the ninth grade when you put makeup on for the first time and he gave you the nastiest comment that made you go wash everything off in the school toilet, his words still stung badly when he chose to weaponize them.
‘Samu’s mate smells like she needs to be bred.’ He said that nonchalantly one day at Onigiri Miya, sitting side by side with you at the counter where his twin and his mate helped each other with cooking and serving the hungry athletes who were there to celebrate the day’s victory ‘Don’t know how he stands that. So sweet’
Hearing that made your conversation with Hinata pause. His steely gaze was the first thing you saw when turning to face ‘your boyfriend’.
It didn’t end there. For days Atsumu was in a devilish mood, his jabs that you knew most of them were meant to just rile you up for fun had become a real emotional harm. He still fucked you, make no mistake about that. And it was as devilish as his temper.
‘Too hard, Miya. Too hard.’ You still wouldn’t call him by his first name.
Veiny hands wrapped snugly around your neck, Atsumu only went faster after hearing that. The bathroom mirror was foggy with hot steam from the shower, but you could see enough. One of your legs was perched on the counter, allowing the view of his cock pistoning in and out of you, your breasts bouncing fast.
‘Would have been pregnant already if you were an omega.’ The sentence came out coated with his accent, thicker than normal, like he didn’t have full control of how he spoke. ‘But that’s alright. I can take my time with you. We’ll get there,’ he purred. ‘Still, what a shame, huh?’
Shame his ass for saying that and not letting you leave. ‘Go fuck an omega then.’
He smirked. Pissed you off. ‘Nah.’
As his toss to Sakusa scored a winning point, the loud cheer brought you back to the present. You saw Atsumu eyes staring up at you from the court below and knew what you had to do.
—
Getting an omega who wanted to spend a heat with Miya Atsumu was easy enough. Sending her up to your apartment where he was already there waiting for you was as simple. You drove away then, not far, stopping at your favorite 24-hour cafe because you needed somewhere to sit and waited for the first feedback from the omega girl. Half an hour later, you got a call.
The screen showed the female omega’s name. You picked up and said hello, expecting to hear that everything went well and that you could go find somewhere else to sleep for the next five nights.
But you only heard cries. Not of pleasure, just a full-blown crying with hiccups.
“Hey, are you okay?” you asked, frowning. “Talk to me. What happened?”
“He—he screamed—at me,” she spluttered, almost incoherently, “and only asked where you were.”
You cursed quietly, finally able to stop stirring the poor coffee you ordered without any interest in taking a sip. “Where is he now?”
“I don’t know,” she cried. “He left—after the screaming.” Her voice wavered all the more when she kept on trying to speak. “You had to see him. He looked murderous. There was not even a hello. He straight up shouted at me, accusing me of breaking in. When I tried to explain—mentioned you, his face was all red.” A hiccup interrupted the long babbling. “He said he was married to you and showed me the ring.”
You were not sure what crack Atsumu was on, but there was definitely no ring or marriage.
The call was still on when you heard the cafe’s door pushed open. And it was as if you saw the devil with your own naked eyes.
Atsumu walked in.
His strides declared no peace or mercy when he saw you, ignoring the greetings from the two night shift baristas.
Not wanting to cause a scene, you stood up, didn’t say anything when he put his hand on your shoulder and led the way out.
The drive was silent. Your car was left at the parking lot near the cafe, you would have to come and get it as soon as you could before the parking fee turned as murderous as him. When asked where he was going, he answered solemnly, “My place. Yours stinks.”
You just knew it was going to be a long night.
—
Atsumu was the one who got the car out for you the next morning since he was the one who could still walk without wobbling. The sheets you slept on were rumpled. They reeked of cum.
You reeked of cum.
‘You think you’re so funny?’ he asked, knowing you couldn’t answer with his cock occupying your mouth but did it nonetheless ‘You wanted me to fuck her? What was going on in that pretty little head?’
He pulled you by the nape of your neck before pushing your head down, forcing your throat to take more of him till you felt the urge to gag.
‘I thought we had an understanding, baby,’ he said, finally relenting his grip on your head. ‘No whoring yourself out.’ Then he stressed, ‘And no whoring me out. I’m yours.’
‘Do you understand?’
You only nodded.
‘Words.’
‘Yes, Miya.’
‘Atsumu,’ he said, looking like he wanted to throw up. ‘You’re not fucking my brother. Don’t make me imagine that. Call me Atsumu.’
‘Yes, Tsumu.’
Looked like you delivered. Atsumu grinned from ear to ear. ‘Good girl. My best girl.’
That was last night.
A warm kiss to the cheek woke you again, must have dozed off after Atsumu left, but those scenes were not a dream. You heard him whisper,
“I got your car. Parked it at your place.”
He looked like he got a ten-hour sleep while you could not move a limb without feeling sore. Not fair. And the way he looked so good in sheep’s clothing, his wolf’s skin all hidden. Not fair at all.
“Shower.” Your voice was hoarse, but you got the message through. That was good enough.
#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu smut#miya atsumu x y/n#miya atsumu x you#haikyu fanfiction#haikyu x reader#haikyuu smut#hq smut#hq x reader#atsumu x reader#atsumu miya x reader#yandere haikyuu#haikyuu dark content#soulmate au#a/b/o au#omegaverse#a/b/o#haikyuu x reader
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Butterfingers - Ch. 2
Melissa Schemmenti x Futch Mechanic!Reader
A/N: no beta, but this is a shorter chappy but it's filler for big things i promise!!!! let me know how u like this one :3 enjoi!!!!
warnings: nada
chapter 1 here
tags: @10gay-keysmash01
Wandering through the halls of the school, you took your time– meandering about from machine to machine, checking stock. Nothing seemed to be amiss aside from a minor repair on the primary hallway vending machine. The thing seemed to have a busted display panel, so users wouldn’t know what they were picking, fate deciding whether or not their corn nuts would be barbeque or ranch.
As you unscrewed the punch pad’s panel, you thought about your giant duffel bag carrying a cartel-sized amount of snacks for the teacher’s lounge.
A small chuckle escaped your lips at the thought, something amused you about the idea of a bunch of adults wanting candy and Cheetos. In a way, you found it wholesome. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it, you thought. It made sense, they were around kids all the time– and kids had some of the best snacking inventory out of all of humanity.
The sound of a familiar voice ripped you from your thoughts,”Hey new guy! What tech-centric genius IT thing are ya doin’ over there?”
Janine jogged over to you, (miraculously) out of breath in the four hurried steps she had just taken. Your eyes glimmered with the question.
You were always something of a teacher. Loving to teach, and more than that, loving to see people learn new things. There was something so satisfying about seeing the gears turn, before clicking things into place and watching a machine whir to life just as it should.
“Oh! It’s nothing too serious, actually. The LCD here seems to be busted, so it’s just a matter of getting a replacement part and plugging these little wires back in right here.” You gestured to the small 5 pin wires needed to connect the screen to the rest of the vending machine.
Janine nodded, clearly not entirely there. She seemed to be looking around for something, and her eyes lit up as soon as she (assumedly) found that thing…or person, rather.
You didn’t mind the dismissal from Janine– you knew your interests were boring to most, or just too complex for people to care about much. Rifling through your repair bag, you opened a large plastic container with multiple small compartments. Various pin wires, replacement nuts and bolts, and most importantly, a small handful of packaged LCD screens sat in the different compartments.
Taking one out of its plastic, you stuck the container back in your bag, before looking over to Janine, only to see that she was waving down the fiery headed teacher from the day before. She was approaching rather quickly, alarmingly so, actually– how on Earth did a woman so petite move so damn fast?!
Brushing aside your unnerved feelings for the mach one woman racing towards you, you turned back to the pin holders still sticking out of the machine, connecting the red and blue wires, before going to connect the black and yellow ones.
“What is it, Janine?” The woman grunted, seemingly annoyed she had to detour. “I’m boutta’ to be late for class, and so are you, kid. Whaddya even doin’ over here– oh.”
The older woman’s gaze went from the beaming young teacher, to your face, before darting away.
“Yeah uh. Hey.” She muttered, shifting uncomfortably from one heel onto the other. Something in you crumbled at her reaction to your presence. Did she really not like you? Maybe it was just because it was early morning…that’s what you told yourself to calm your rising anxieties.
Smiling in response, you let out a little hum in greeting, before turning back to your work.
Melissa clutched her jacket tighter around herself. You noticed she used it like her shield. Something hardened and tough to protect her, maybe? You didn’t have time to speculate– Janine hopped up, patting you on the shoulder and jogging off to class.
“See you, y/n! Glad to see you’re settling nicely!” Janine yelled as she rounded a corner, disappearing.
“Oh- uhm! Bye!” You called after, turning to the machine, before looking over at Melissa, who stood there– seeming to hover, as if waiting for something.
You looked up into those prying green eyes, lips pursing tight as you thought of what to say.
Looking down to your duffel of snacks, you suddenly realized what she was likely waiting for. Grabbing the grey bag with one hand, you lifted the bag while standing up. Melissa followed your gaze, having to crane her neck to see your eyes.
“Sorry about that, I totally thought you were waiting to talk to me– you probably want this, right?” You asked sheepishly, opening a compartment in the duffel, and handing her a small Butterfingers. The bright yellow packaging gleamed in the fluorescent light of the halls.
Melissa’s brows knitted, an unreadable expression crossing her features before she smiled small.
“Oh...thanks, hon.” She sighed, seeming almost disappointed. You cracked a smile at this, knowing she would’ve wanted more than just the one piece of candy.
“I’m messing with you, red. I have this for you.” With a swift motion, you grabbed a quart sized Ziploc bag full of the glimmering yellow and blue candy.
The redhead’s eyes bugged out to the size of dinner plates at your grand display.
“Holy fuckin’-- damn it, you really didn’t hafta do all this! When I said some, I meant a few. Do you know what a few looks like?”
Your features lit up with a nearly face splitting grin,”Several, right? Which is more than two, but not many, but many is a lot, and this is only a quart size. So by definition, you could say this is a few, isn’t it?”
Melissa’s eyes rolled so hard they almost fell right out of her head, a smile threatening to spill onto her features.
She gave a small laugh, and the sound had you grinning even harder, somehow. You presented the bag to her with two hands, the duffel half open on one arm, your tool belt on your other arm, and your repair bag hanging off of your wrist. You looked absolutely insane, but something about that fact seemed to endear Melissa.
She carefully took the bag, cheeks puffing out with how surprisingly hefty the bag was. “In any case, you’re absolutely insane n’ I think you’re crazy for this.” She chuckled halfheartedly, her features hardening to a level of genuine sincerity. “Thank ya, though…really. No one’s ever really done…this for me. Get me my favorite candy n’ what not. So. Yeah. Thanks..”
Before you could say anything back, Melissa turned on her heel and sped off (at that alarmingly fast speedwalk). You let a small puff of air out of your nose, something like a laugh. But you’d never laugh at Melissa Schemmenti. She wasn’t someone to be laughed at. Turning back to the LCD you’d been fixing, you plugged in the remaining connectors, before screwing the panel back on and plugging the machine back in.
As expected, the screen flickered to life. You nodded to yourself, before standing up and heading to the teacher’s lounge.
–
Melissa settled into her classroom while the kids went about writing their daily plans and writing prompt for the morning. Looking at the bag sitting in her lower left drawer, she noticed something sticking out of the mound of Butterfingers she’d recently come into possession of. Opening the bag, she grabbed the slip of paper, unfolding it carefully.
Hey Red,
Hope you don’t hate me for my clumsy introduction. Found these fresh from the factory for you.
Enjoy!
y/n
Melissa’s lips parted, before she quickly crumpled the note and tossed it into the trash. She couldn’t do this, not again.
Not another repairman, not another relationship.
But if you were a woman, did that make it different?
#abbott elementary#abbott elementary fic#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti fic#melissa schemmenti#lisa ann walter#melissa schemmenti x y/n#butterfingers fic
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Kalim x Reader Brainrot (2)
⋆ I get that most of the time, Kalim sounds clueless and innocent but that's the appeal of his character, he definitely understands subtle advances that you do, he just acts oblivious just so you can do it more boldly this time. I bet he's the type to tease you so much but it's the type of teasing where he would say "Are you flirting with me?" in a joking way and when you don't answer he'd be grinning before shrugging his shoulders, "Just kidding, appreciate the cuddles you give me, you're a great friend" and he'd watch as you deflate, cute.
⋆ He'll drive you over the edge with his lingering touches, and he'd do it to other dormmates just so you don't get suspicious, only Jamil noticed his odd behavior but he ignored it thinking to himself that, it isn't his problem.
⋆ You two would be pining for each other and the others would know except for you, they try to tell you that Kalim totally digs you. Yet you don't see how, he's friendly with everyone, what's the difference when he does that stuff to you?
⋆ First to confess is you cause while Kalim is confrontational, he wants to see if you'd confess to him first and once you do, he'd laugh, putting his hands on his waist while he shows you his brightest smile.
⋆ "I was wondering when you'd cave it!" he'd say while you looked bewildered.
╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴
Prolly write this as a one-shot once I finish requests <3 Hope you like it! Not beta read cause it's just brainrot.
Masterlist
#twisted wonderland#kalim al asim#twst kalim#kalim x reader#kalim x mc#twisted wonderland x reader#fluff#teasing
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So here I'm after telling you that I need to cry over the next part of "A bloody nose and two bleeding hearts" I was thinking about it for a moment and it took me there...
Adam took the reader back to heaven yay. But not everything is so dandy, the Reader has fallen, even if he's back, he's fallen angel. With that comes everything that a fallen angel would feel...cut connection with Father, that strange feeling of being alone, cast aside, not wanted. If the reader had wings there are phantom pains, I'm imagining that the wings would somehow change, maybe colour, or maybe he would lose feathers in a few places, unfortunately it's not two or three feathers... Now the Reader is thinking about what Adam has told him and he can't help but wonder if that was a lie, because how could someone want him after the fall? Adam on the other side doesn't know what to really do with the reader... He sees that the reader is getting more and more depressed with each day, but it has been a long time since he had comforted someone depressed(I imagine it would be Cain after killing Abel, but that's just my little headcanon, that Cain after killing his brother and coming back to his senses would get so depressed). Even so he tries to take care of the reader, by not letting Sera close again or something like that. It does help a bit, but the reader now needs all love Adam could give him, to see and feel that what Adam has told him was real, that he was wanted by someone even if he fell.
So yes, that's all I think...and even if not it doesn't matter, I'll love it anyway
Omg I love this soooo much - depressed reader is something I find so much comfort in
Part 1
For what we have done we will pay our price
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language, hurt - with comfort
note: not beta read bc fuck you
Heaven felt different, now that you were back. It felt so cold, so lonely, all the warmth it had once provided was gone, you were no longer able to feel the heavenly connection to it you once had. Its colors had once been bright and welcoming to your eyes but after your fall they simply didn’t look the same to you, they looked grayish, boring and just as cold as they felt. The great and loving connection you used to have to Father was not present anymore, you were not able to feel him guiding you, protecting you anymore and you were only to assume that he wasn’t feeling your bright spirit in return. Because your spirit seemed to be so many things and all of them were ugly, ugly just like your appearance had become once your feet had touched hellish ground.
Your wings simply weren’t the same anymore, just like everything else and while you were somewhat thankful that you weren’t surrounded by sinners, you weren’t quite sure if being surrounded by judgemental angels was any better. They stared at you, at your wings and really, you couldn’t even blame them because if you were in their position you would’ve stared and judged as well. But it really didn’t help with your situation. Your wings, once a beautiful bright white with a light blue touch to the tips of your feathers had turned gray, not only had they changed to look less pure and more tainted, you had also started to lose feathers. That had started once Adam had brought you back to heaven and you only assumed it was their way of punishing you for disobeying the law. In the end it really didn’t matter why it happened, what was more important was that it happened and it made your wings look rotten, which only caused your appearance in general to look even messier.
Because ever since Adam had brought you back to heaven you had been crashing at his place, they had sold your place within a couple of hours and while that had been painful due to the loss of very personal items, it wasn’t the end of the world. Everything else seemed like it though. The energy to leave the bed every day was barely existent and you asked yourself how Adam did it, how he managed to get up every day, how he managed to just go about his day and not give a fuck about heaven’s questionable decisions.
You were lying in the first man’s bed, your body was covered by your own wings and a soft blanket - the blanket was necessary because of the giant bald areas on your wings, without it you would’ve caught a cold, a thing Adam tried to prevent. Your relationship towards Adam had changed in general, there was no more playful teasing, that had been replaced by soft touches and warm cuddles every now and then, but was it enough to keep you sane and intact? You weren’t sure. On the other hand you weren’t truly sure of anything, not when Adam’s soft words felt like lies. Why would the brunette care for you in the ways he claimed to care for you and like you? What reason have you ever given him to think of you as someone to adore and love?
The first man entered the room, something you were only able to hear, your eyes were covered by three feathers that were still left on the edge of your wing, three lonely feathers that reminded you of what you’ve once been and how drastically that had changed. “Are you dead?” the first man asked jokingly, but to you his question wasn’t funny. Because to you death seemed like a less painful and energy draining thing, like a thing more beautiful than the miserable afterlife you were stuck in. And it wasn’t Adam’s fault, yes he had been teasing you, yes he had been pushing your buttons but you had been the one to punch him so really it was your fault for losing control. And yet he not only brought you back to heaven but also let you crash at his place. Probably the nicest thing Adam had done since Eden.
“I wish,” you mumbled against the dry skin of your almost featherless wing, the sensitive body part twitched and you sighed as you removed it from your body and simply cuddled up in the blanket instead. You were able to remember how your wings used to feel, how the connection to Father used to feel and what heaven used to look like and you were quite sure that the blanket was not making up for your once so soft wings - far from it actually. You heard clicking sounds, Adam must have put something down. And just as you were about to turn around to look at what he was doing the mattress dipped next to you and you felt the blanket being lifted up a little. The next thing you recognized were strong arms that wrapped around your body and pulled you flush against Adam’s chest. It was more of a reflex to tug your wings in during cuddles. And then you felt it. Soft feathers were brushing against your bare torso, they slid over your sweaty skin so smoothly.
Adam had wrapped his wings around you.
“Don’t fucking say that,” his voice sounded so unusual soft, so warm and comforting, there was no sarcastic comments, no harsh shoves, he was not trying to push your buttons either. He simply laid there, right next to you and tried his best to bring back the familiar feeling of heaven. You felt his feathers gently stroking your back in slow motions, up, then down, then up, then down. You got lost in the rhythm of it, so lost in fact that you forgot to respond to Adam. But was it important to respond to the brunette in the first place? You had only been honest and you were quite sure that everything else you had to say the first man wouldn’t like at all. And while his words were cheap - they had been and maybe they always will be - his actions weren't. Because instead of thinking of you as something disgusting he held you in his arms like the biggest treasure he had ever been allowed to touch. He looked at you with such loving eyes, touched you with gentle hands and cozy wings, kissed you with soft lips and passion you never expected from a person like him.
And maybe - just maybe - rotting away in heaven wasn’t all that bad. At least not with Adam by your side.
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sidewalks we crossed [side B: him.] (pt. 2)
this is broken into parts because tumblr has a limit of 1000 blocks.
side A found here! | side B (part 1) found here!
author's note:
part two of side b!
the final installment.
it's been a long journey to get here, and any messages or words i read in the tags of the reblogs were a source of comfort for me during these times. i'm glad that my words resonated with even just one of you.
and of course, thank you for being here.
✧⋆°｡☾☼꙳ ੭ * ‧ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ‧ ⨯ ς(>‿<.). ⁺ ✦ * . ˚ ⨯ ੭ * ‧☼☽⋆｡°✧
pairing: lee jihoon/woozi (seventeen) x f!reader
genre: romance, fluff
summary: an accidental like, an off-chance comment, a purposeful message. you were in an unrequited love with your childhood best friend and decided to run away from him and your feelings and years later you find yourself in the same city with the same feelings when he stalks your instagram.
rating: 13+
length: 30k (bro WHAT LOL)
tags: idol!jihoon, childhood friend!reader, unrequited love (but not really), reconnection through instagram, this is just different scenes pieced together (including a ton of flashbacks), reader’s nicknames are all bug-themed, reader has depression and it manifests as suicidal ideation sometimes, this is basically real life (aka seventeen exists and debuted 150526), but the years are a little bit off for the trainee period, jihoon left busan later and trained for shorter for the sake of my story hehe, cursing, pining, mamamoo + ateez are the besties of reader, member x member pairings, jihoon and reader are both dumbasses, reader is extremely book smart but has one brain cell when it comes to romantic feelings, jihoon writes music like he’s been divorced 12x, word genius lee jihoon, idk how doctoral degrees work, i only got my masters and it was a non-thesis track lol, also idk how trainee auditions work either, miss communication is a lady we all know too well, super cute soft shit too tho tbh, no beta we die like men, i spent 5 hours trying to format this for tumblr and i’m still unsure
inspired by “drivers license” by olivia rodrigo and “what kind of future?” by woozi
inspo spotify playlist found here!
──────────────────
“Noona, I need help.”
Immediately, the older girl closed the book she was reading, a young adult romance novel and turned her attention to him. “You never ask for my help. What’s going on?”
“I… I like Y/N.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”
Jihoon balked. “What? Does everyone know this already?”
“Y/N doesn’t.”
He groaned loudly.
“Are you finally wanting to tell her?”
“I mean, yeah. I—I just don’t know what to do.”
“Well, I got just the thing for you, Jihoonie.”
Jihoon spent his time trying to come up with some elaborate and dramatic confession (per the advice of his noona). They sat in cafes, picking out different foods that the two of them knew you’d enjoy, scoping out different restaurants, going to the library and her handing him too many romance novels.
After a few weeks, “Noona, you sure this is going to work?”
“Nope.”
“What?! Then why am I doing this?”
“I was just curious to see how much you were willing to do for her. She deserves nothing less than the best, you know,” the girl grinned, now revealing her mischievous side, one that he has never seen before. “Jihoon, you really think that she’s going to want anything that’s a grand gesture?”
“Well. No, but I thought you would know her—”
“Jihoonie, there’s no one that knows her better than you, I think. You probably know her and see her for how she really is. More than she can see herself. All you have to do is just tell her the truth. That’s it.”
“…this was a waste of time.”
She hummed. “Hm, nothing came up for you?”
“What do you mean?”
He could see that she was fidgeting with her fingers. She let out a nervous laugh as she said, “I actually wanted to see whether you still liked me. Whether spending time with me was going to change your mind. Not that I wanted it to! But I didn’t want you to be wishy-washy. She needs stability. She’s already chaotic on her own.”
“You knew I liked you?”
“Just a tiny bit.”
He let out a dry laugh. “Would you have given me a chance?”
“Would you have tried?”
The two of them sat there for a moment, mulling over the weight of the words said between them. But they both knew that there was someone else in their lives who mattered more, who they truly yearned for. If Jihoon and his noona ever pursued something, it would’ve just been them trying to find comfort in each other because they couldn’t have who they wished for. They would’ve tried to shape each other to fit the missing puzzle piece, losing the essence of themselves.
Jihoon and his noona were only mere reflections of who they actually wanted, the illusion created because of how much time was spent together. And that image would’ve faded fast.
“No, I don’t think I would have.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
“Good luck with him.”
“Yeah… good luck with her. It’ll work out.”
──────────────────
Plenty of people could say that his noona was childish, that she should have picked another route to go down. That it all could’ve been left unsaid. But Jihoon was grateful for her choice to do what she did. Because you didn’t deserve that “what if?”. Neither did he. You both needed to be sure.
And he felt it, walking into the restaurant.
He immediately recognized you, even with your head down. He was so used to seeing you from afar that this was a sight that was unfortunately so familiar to him. He walked forward in hopes of closing the distance between the two of you.
“Jihoon! Hey!” Your cousin said, frantically.
Jihoon held back his laughter, the sight of his hyung flustered a rare occurrence. “Hey, hyung.”
“Oh my goodness, it’s our Jihoonie! Hi!”
He could see that her eyes were screaming: save us. Jihoon wondered if he’d be able to. “Hi, noona.”
Ah, there you went.
Your eyes finally met his.
God, so beautiful.
“Hey, firefly.”
“Holy fuck.”
Jihoon was startled. Since when did you curse? And the fuck word too? But it must be a new development considering the other two were making a huge commotion over it. But even in the midst of chastising, you didn’t break eye contact.
“It’s been a while.”
You blinked. “Um. Yes.”
He couldn’t help but smile. This was happening.
His brilliant and warm and fiery sun.
The reason behind why his own light exists.
His guide, his inspiration, his hope.
His firefly.
Close enough to reach out and catch.
But not quite yet.
“So, are you all done eating?”
“No, not even close! Only ordered one pajeon, but feel free to order anything that you want! Oppa will be covering,” his noona responded as she motioned for him to take the seat next to you. He did and immediately felt you tense up beside him. Jihoon mentally cursed at himself. He should’ve asked.
He decided to lean back in his chair to try to mimic the body language he hoped from you: relaxed. “Hyung’s the best.”
“One day, I’ll make you spend that idol money of yours.”
“Alright, it’s a deal.”
You must have recovered from your shock, since you piped up with a, “Wait. Shouldn’t you be careful about eating out? What if someone sees you here? Couldn’t something happen?”
Aw, you were worried for him. “This is a restaurant that’s frequented by SEVENTEEN. This specific table is so far removed in the corner that it’d be hard to get a good look at my face, especially since my back’s to them.”
You looked around and scanned the area, probably noticing the boisterous environment of hweshiks overpowering the casual dining you were partaking in. “Hm. Okay…”
“You worried about me?”
“No, I’m worried I’m going to end up in Dispatch with message requests from sasaeng fans.”
Jihoon felt the color drain from his face. “If you’re uncomfortable with me being here—”
You immediately shook your head. “That was a joke, I guess it was too serious of a reality for it to seem like one. Jihoon, thanks, really. But I’m scary good at ignoring people. Uh… I’m… I’m glad that you’re here. Seriously.” You paused for a moment, probably noticing the tension that he was too aware of. “Because we’re with two weakass eaters so it’s up to us to finish the job. Will you join me on our noble mission?”
He snorted out a ‘yes’ and the table laughed. Your cousin brought up a time where you were crying because you hated wasting food but the dish was too spicy but you were too stubborn to stop eating. You quickly reminded him that he was the one who tapped out first and left a 9-year-old to solve the issue (“Wouldn’t have been a problem for me if you didn’t create one, oppa!”). The four of you spent more time catching up than thinking about what to order until you were all brought back into the reality that you were at a restaurant and ordered nothing but a pajeon and drinks.
The older two let you and Jihoon decide, as you were both pickier eaters than they were. Once the food arrived, you fell into a rhythm of years’ practice. You pushed your portion of fish and beef onto his plate and he pushed his portion of bean sprouts and japchae onto yours. You both split the pork belly serving evenly between the two of you.
His arm would (accidentally) brush against yours but none of the tension remained from earlier. You didn’t retract, you didn’t run away. In fact, you poked his arm for his attention midway in the conversation and he never thought such a small thing could evoke such happiness.
──────────────────
Physical touch was never something that Jihoon craved. In fact, in most cases, he felt negatively towards it. So, the experience of being touch-starved was not something he knew anything about.
That is, until you were gone for two weeks at an academic competition.
Why the hell was an academic competition half a month? And during summer break? What did they expect middle schoolers to do? Solve world hunger with pi? (The number, not the food.)
You were spending your school vacation for the sake of more school.
What a stupid concept.
And you were on the same team as Baek Yunho, the star player of the baseball team and chemistry league. Jihoon saw the way that Yunho would try to come up to you after a game, but you only ever made a beeline towards Jihoon.
He didn’t realize just how much the two of you gravitated towards each other. Between class periods, he’d pinch your nose or flick your forehead or you would attempt to bring him to his knees by pushing your own into the back of his and fail miserably and he would roundhouse kick you in response. If the two of you had the time, you would go over to his house and dig your toes into his ribcage when he totally owned you during a game of Super Smash Bros. And during the summer, usually, you would be sprawled over him, back to back, as he would watch anime or play games on his phone and you would read your summer reading list.
But normal people wouldn’t consider that physical touch.
And yet here he was, genuinely touch-starved, because you were in Daegu with a whole seven days left.
He grumbled under his breath. Another day has gone by without seeing Baek Yunho during practice which meant another day that you were gone. Something that occupied his mind, as he opened the door to his bedroom, swinging his baseball bag onto his bed.
And he heard a loud, “ow!”
He saw you rubbing your knee on his bed, with a pout on your face. “What the hell are you doing here?”
That’s one way to say he missed you.
“I came back from my competition today to apparently get assaulted by my best friend.”
“I thought it was two weeks long.”
“The whole thing is, but I opted out of the award ceremony. Plus, I only competed in the writing and foreign language portion because that’s all they needed me for, which all happened in the first week.”
Jihoon’s mind didn’t catch up with his body as he reached for you. You yelped and threw a pillow at him, “Ew. No, you just got back from practice and you’re sweaty!”
“Firefly, you’re missing out on a rare opportunity.”
You paused for a moment, possibly recalling all the times he’s rejected a hug from you and realizing this indeed was very rare. “Can you at least wipe off your sweat?”
“Nope, not at all,” Jihoon snickered.
It was now a competition to see who would be the faster one, you rushing for the door or his arms. And of course, the athlete that he is, Jihoon won.
“You smell like the sun! Stop!”
He decidedly rubbed his neck into the shoulder of your shirt and you did your best to wiggle away, but failed. Your look of disdain was met with Jihoon’s satisfied one. “Lee Jihoon, you’re the worst.”
“I’m glad my punching bag is back.”
You pushed his hair back only to immediately retract. “Ugh! How does so much sweat just come out of you?”
“Does it matter when I have a towel right here?”
You pinched his ear as he pushed his sweaty forehead against the other shoulder of your shirt. You burst into a fit of giggles when he found your ticklish spot in the middle of your thigh, but soon enough, your ankle found purchase around his and pushed him onto the ground as you clambered away and into his closet, probably to find a shirt to change into.
He was left there on his bedroom floor, listening to your ramblings about his sweat, almost deliriously happy.
He was satisfied, no longer a starving man.
──────────────────
After the food was finished (thanks to the two of you), the four of you walked out of the restaurant, the couple saying they were so full they wanted to walk it off on the way to their hotel. They offered for the two of you to join them but you declined, saying the hotel was in the opposite direction of your home.
Your cousin felt uneasy leaving you to walk home on your own. But you pointed at Jihoon with your thumb and said, “Jihoonie can walk me home, if you’re so worried. But even if he can’t, I’ve lived here long enough. This isn’t anything new.”
As if your cousin completely ignored the latter half of what you said, he glanced at Jihoon who gave a quick nod. “I’ll walk her home. Don’t worry. Then I’ll take a taxi back myself.”
After much long-winded convincing, the two headed off to the hotel while you and him were left walking down the street, his own face masked up and covered with a baseball hat in case of anything.
“You know, you don’t have to walk me home.”
“I’d like to, if that’s alright with you.”
He noticed you adjusting the hem of your shirt. “Okay. It’s a little bit of a walk from here. Maybe 30 to 40 minutes or so.”
“That’s 30 to 40 minutes I’d like to spend with you.”
“…yeah. I’d like that too.”
This felt almost surreal. You by his side.
But also so natural, almost inevitable.
As if this was all just waiting to happen.
After a moment’s pause, you asked him what he was doing for the coming months, if there were any plans.
“There’s a concert that Bumzu’s holding in Busan, and he’s asking some SEVENTEEN members to perform, so I’ll be doing a solo piece for that one.”
“Oh, SIMPLE?”
You immediately made a face as if you got caught admitting something embarrassing and Jihoon grinned. “Ah, you know my solo song?”
“Hm. Maybe…” You trailed off, looking everywhere but at him.
Cute.
“It might’ve possibly made it as my top song of the year in 2016.”
Agh, even cuter. “I’ll tell Yoon Jeonghan that he’s not actually your bias and you’re actually a Woozidan.”
“You can call me a Woozidan, you’d just be exceedingly and astronomically incorrect, like always. Unlike me, who is right, quite literally 100% of the time.”
Jihoon laughed. “Hey, I’ll have you know I’m one of the brains in SEVENTEEN, alright?”
“That’s because you were forged in the fire that was your friendship with me. Of having to deal with my illogical thinking.”
“Ain’t that the damn truth.”
The mood between the two of you was solid and Jihoon felt his resolve flare up within him, gathering the courage to ask, “If I invited you to Bumzu’s concert, would you go?”
“Oh. The one in Busan?”
“Yes.”
“Uh. When is it? I’m supposed to start work in three weeks.”
He wondered how big of a Carat you were because he knew that most would jump at the opportunity, but he felt oddly reassured that you weren’t a fan who would skirt on your responsibilities. “It’s in two weeks. You can… uh, bring Hyejin?”
You blinked up at him. “You know her?”
“She, uh, is always on your Instagram.”
“That’s very sweet of you and she’s gonna freak out that you know her, but she’s actually going to be in Jeonju that entire week with Wheein-unnie because they’re visiting their family. And then none of my other friends know about me knowing you. But. You know what? What kind of Carat would I be if I turned down this offer?”
Great minds think alike. “So… I’ll see you there?”
“Yeah. Yeah, you will. I’ll sing the chorus of SIMPLE so loud I’ll overpower even your vocals.”
“You know, I never said I was singing SIMPLE.”
“Oh, what? What are you singing then?”
Jihoon grinned. “Guess you’ll have to come and find out.”
You let out a low whistle. “Wow, what an idol. Using your charm to convince me to use up my time and money.”
“You think I’m charming?”
“Enough that my wallet is in constant danger.”
“You know, I can always give you free things.”
“It’s okay. Buying your albums and merchandise and concert tickets have been the only way I can support you. And, well, I did promise I would be your number one fan.”
“‘S alright. That’s all in the past.”
Jihoon noticed you flinching at those words. Your voice was barely above a whisper, “…Is it really all in the past? It’s not that simple, is it, Jihoonie?”
He remained silent.
So did you.
You both walked, the evening stroll accompanied only by the artificial lights of the city, the sun having long since gone to rest and the light of the moon nowhere to be found.
You reached the doorstep of your apartment and you turned back to face him. “I think… We probably have a lot to talk about. But maybe the timing is off right now. I know I need to sort myself out, if that’s okay? I’m trying to do this thing where I think before I talk instead of just diving in and regretting something, you know?”
Jihoon nodded. He was all too familiar with that.
“But I just want to let you know that I still want to be a part of your life. And we can navigate how that will look like when we’re both not caught up in living our lives. Is… is that okay?”
He wanted to cry. “More than that.”
You smiled. “I’ll see you at the concert, Jihoonie.”
“I’ll see you, firefly.”
──────────────────
After that night, he was thrown back into his and SEVENTEEN’s work. Outside of Bumzu’s concert, they were working on their next album, aiming to release it in just two months, the theme centered around a youthful infatuation blossoming into a mature love.
He wondered what you would think of it.
One night, he was in his studio with Soonyoung again who looked over Jihoon’s latest solo for Bumzu’s concert.
“Jihoon, this is the saddest shit I’ve ever read.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Are you sure that this is what you’re wanting to perform? That this is what you want her to hear? In front of hundreds of people?”
“It’s… the most honest I can be. Yeah, it could scare her off. But I don’t think we can keep moving forward without addressing what happened between us. But I didn’t make this song to make her feel bad. I made it so I could let go of the pain I associate with the old her to be able to make space for the new her, you know what I mean?”
Soonyoung spared no expression. “Whatever you think is best, Hoon.”
“I’m just going to take a leap of faith,” Jihoon sighed. There really was no predicting exactly how things would turn out. You were different, he was different. There were too many unknown variables with the situation. “Hopefully she’ll be there to catch me.”
“Mm.”
“What’s up?”
“I’m thinking about how you’re going to be singing a ballad, pouring your true and genuine feelings, and I’ll be performing Hurricane in a tiger print shirt.”
Jihoon paused for a moment. “Duality of SEVENTEEN.”
──────────────────
You must have also been busy, as the only notification he got from you was on the day of the concert. It was a selfie of you at a gas station in the wee hours of the morning, no doubt filling your tank before your 4 and a half hour car ride, with a message saying, “i’m on my way to you! fueled by overpriced gas and cheap snacks!”
You were on your way. To him.
There was an electricity that was coursing through him that went beyond just nerves before a show. No, there was so much more riding on this, and as much as he wants to believe and trust that everything would work out in some way or another, there is the deep part of him that yearns for it to work out for the best. The most ideal cut.
He pressed his hands against his chest, as he tried to mimic compression.
But there was just too much bursting out of him to truly contain.
“Jihoon-ah, you alright?”
He must have looked like a crazed man to Jeonghan because the latter had an incredulous look on his face as soon as they made eye contact. “Do I not seem alright?”
“No.”
“Hyung.”
Jeonghan let out a low chuckle and moved behind him to squeeze the shoulders of the stressed man. “It’s okay to hope, you know.”
“It feels like hope is the reason I can’t breathe right now. If it weren’t for hope, I wouldn’t care this much. If it weren’t for hope, I wouldn’t be in this position.”
“You’re right. You wouldn’t be. Without hope, you wouldn’t be in SEVENTEEN. You wouldn't have become an idol, be our unit’s leader, become a producer, written songs, or even had the chance to reconcile with her. All of what you are would’ve been impossible without hope”
Jihoon bit his lip. “I feel like I’m going crazy, hyung. I keep going back and forth between whether it’s worth it. I haven’t felt anxiety like this in years. I know that lo–love–” Jihoon realized he never said that word so directly about her. He always found more poetic ways to dance around the word. “–can be a lot of work. But this? It makes me think that it’s not meant to be. When I see her and when I’m with her, it feels so right. But when she’s not in front of me, I feel like the best thing to do is to just run away.”
“Yeah, but you ran away last time, right?”
“And I wouldn’t be in SEVENTEEN if I hadn’t.”
“But you’ve still pined after her for all these years.”
“Maybe that’s just me being stubborn.”
“Yeah, and? What about it?”
“What happens if I’m pining after her because I regret hurting someone I cared about, my best friend. What if I don’t actually love her–”
Jihoon’s voice caught in his throat.
Jeonghan answered in a low whisper, and Jihoon is sure that if he turned around, he would see pity in his older member’s eyes. “Jihoon–”
“No, I know,” he quickly cut him off, sighing. “Ridiculous notion. Hyung, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I don’t understand myself at all. Just yesterday, I was talking a big game about how I needed to trust her and take a leap of faith and now it feels like I’m going back on it.”
“So, you don’t trust her?”
“That’s… not it.”
“Then what is it, Jihoon?”
“I… I can’t…”
“It’s just you and me here.”
Lee Jihoon and Yoon Jeonghan.
The very two people who were in that room together when that fateful encounter on social media occurred.
Yoon Jeonghan, the island of SEVENTEEN.
“What if she doesn’t love me back?”
Jeonghan felt Jihoon’s shoulders tremble underneath his grip. The older began to rub gentle circles and stood there in silence as the younger buried his face in his hands. “...She could.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
“What if she does?”
“That’s not–”
“–How it works? Why are your worries more likely than your hope? Are they more logical? More based in reality? Listen, they’re all just thoughts driven by feelings. They both have an equal chance of happening, and yet you are convinced your worries are true. And maybe that’s your fault. Your fault because you keep suppressing your hope in fear of pain and rejection. So that later down the line, you can tell yourself that you knew it anyway. But guess what? This isn’t a game where you’re trying to come out of this as the least hurt.”
Jihoon felt lucky that Jeonghan couldn’t see his face.
“Just think of it as finally being able to let out the entire truth that you’ve been hiding for years, the truth that has been found in your lyrics, but is now finally going to reach the person you’ve hoped for so long that it would. She’ll be right there, listening to you. You’ve wanted it for so long. Don’t try to convince yourself all of a sudden that it’s not.”
“...Yeah.”
“Plus, they already have the line-up and backing vocals set up, so. It’s not like you can change it now. Go put your in-ear in. We’ll be in the audience. All of us.”
“Thanks, hyung.”
“...I’m not sure if it means anything, but you’re a good man, Lee Jihoon. I’m proud of you.”
Jeonghan patted the younger’s shoulder before exiting the small space, leaving Jihoon to his own thoughts. Ones that no longer swirled over the possibility of pain or even the potential of reciprocation. Instead, he thought about his members. The ones he’s told he’s loved, both in teasing ways and genuine utterances.
And then he thought of you.
He’d like you to hear the same from him.
At least once.
(And hopefully more.)
──────────────────
Busan’s driving laws were nothing like the rest of Korea.
Luckily growing up in Busan, you were aware of the way that the drivers swerved in and out of lanes, making illegal (?) turns any chance they got. The flow of traffic in Busan is so aggressively different from Seoul, that it felt as though you had to flip a switch to reorient yourself into the version of you that learned how to first drive in Busan.
Not long after the person you were driving to see had stormed out of your home.
You sighed.
You weren’t sure what to expect at the concert.
It felt almost embarrassing how much you daydreamed over him potentially singing a song to you. The reality is dangerously close to overlapping with the delusion that you found yourself trying to literally shake away the thoughts.
But how could you not be a little hopeful?
The love of your life invited you to a concert, with him singing a solo song.
Maybe he’d confess–
The honk of the car behind you pulled you out of your thoughts. You groaned loudly, slapping your forehead. “Get it together, Y/N!”
Jihoon had told you to enter the concert hall through a certain entrance, and that you wouldn’t need to wait amongst the lines. He recommended waiting until everyone else was seated, so you would still have 20 minutes to kill before entering the venue.
You drove, mentally fighting yourself every kilometer of the way, until you finally reached the venue. You showed the badge that Jihoon had given you and was directed towards the back lot where staff parked. You cut the engine and sat there, attempting to calm yourself down.
You immediately get a request for FaceTime on your phone.
You answer it.
“Bumblebee!”
“Unnie, I can feel myself eroding away.”
Hyejin rolled her eyes. “You’ll be fine.”
You heard Wheein’s voice in the background. “Is that Y/N?”
Hyejin answered, “Yeah. Wanna say something?”
Wheein popped into frame. You gave a weak wave. “Are you gonna confess today?”
“What? No. That wasn’t in the plan.”
“Okay? Then change the plan,” Wheein said, as though it was the most obvious thing.
“I just want to be friends.”
“Forever?” Wheein asked.
“For now,” Hyejin supplied.
You rolled your eyes. “Listen. All I know is that I want to be in his life, and whatever that looks like is still to be determined, alright?”
“But what do you want in the long run?”
“You know I can’t plan for the long-term. Let’s just take things day by day, alright?”
“Okay, but what if he confesses today?” Wheein asked.
“He won’t.”
“What if he does?”
“I–”
Hyejin tapped Wheein’s thigh off-camera. “She’ll handle it if it comes up. No matter what happens, we’ll be here to pick up your call, okay? Whether it be to sort out your feelings or to just fangirl about the concert. We’ll be here to listen to whatever you’re willing to share. There’s not much to do here in Jeonju anyway, so. Just hit us up.”
“Go eat Jeonju bibimbap.”
“We did,” they answered in unison.
You let out a short laugh. “Alright. Well. Regardless of everything, time will continue to pass. I’m going to just bask in the fact that I was invited by a member of my favorite idol group to watch his performance.”
“And that’s already cool as hell,” Wheein nodded.
The three of you chatted about their plans for the week while you did your best to focus on the conversation while still paying attention to the time left until the concert. Not long after, you bid them farewell to once again sit in silence in your car, pressing your hands against your chest.
It was time.
──────────────────
Bumzu’s concert started off as nothing less than spectacular.
You always admired his musical prowess, knowing that he was the one who helped Jihoon form his own identity as a producer and songwriter. Bumzu was a titan in his own right, his lyricism and musicality rivaling plenty of others in the field.
Although his talent is impeccable, the venue itself was small. His transition from performing towards writing and producing had a hand in influencing the number of tickets sold. You also realized belatedly that the concert wasn’t advertised to include the SEVENTEEN members that you were promised.
Regardless, it felt like such an intimate space, you were thankful for it.
You were in the upper gallery, away from the rest of the concert attendees. There wasn’t anyone else nearby you, and you assumed that would stay the case.
That is, until you heard someone sit right next to you.
You glanced over, not wanting to be overt in noticing them (although, Korean culture lends itself to staring at others outside of Seoul and Busan), and you felt your breath hitch.
“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”
“I–yeah.”
“I recorded a video for you for your graduation,” the most beautifully ethereal man on this side of existence said. “Do you remember?”
“I–yeah.”
He flashed a brilliant grin. “Yoon Jeonghan.”
“I–yeah.”
“Congratulations on graduating.”
“I–” This time, his voice overlapped yours. “Yeah.”
You flushed. “Sorry. I’m just– I’m kind of taken aback.”
“I heard I was your favorite member, your bias.”
“Mm. That’s true.”
“Why is that the case?”
You paused for a moment, the vocals of Bumzu drowning out the sounds of your conversation. “They say that your bias is the one who’s most similar to you. And your bias wrecker is the one that you’d most likely want to date or be romantically involved with.”
“Oh, so, we’re similar?”
“In the way that we love others, I think? From what other members have said about you, the way that you love is both wide and deep. You love others in a way where you can be a home for them during times of hardship,” you said, sheepishly. It felt almost strange to claim you were as loving as you were, but. You knew yourself. You knew your heart. Even the bad parts. “Also, we both would cheat at games.”
“It’s the only way to play.”
“Winning is too easy otherwise,” you added.
“Exactly,” he chuckled. “Well. That makes me feel better.”
“That I cheat at games?”
“No. That you love in the same way that I do. Because if you love Jihoonie as much as I love him, I think I have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
“I do.”
Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at you. “I’m sorry?”
“I do love him,” you said, unhesitantly. Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest decision to tell one of Jihoon’s closest confidants this information. But, it wasn’t a secret. It wasn’t ever meant to be a secret. It was simply a fact. “There’s no way that I wouldn’t.”
“You… You haven’t doubted your feelings?”
This time you raised an eyebrow at him. “Why would I? He’s easy to love.”
Jeonghan laughed. “You’re so right, Y/N. So. Is he your bias wrecker?”
“You mean the one that I want to date?”
“The very same.”
You saw the mischief in his eyes, and you felt yours bubble up inside. “I wonder.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m surprised you cheat at games, you don’t seem like a great liar.”
“Who said I was trying to?” You flashed him a toothy grin.
“It’s rather strange to see just how different the two of you are. And also, how human you seem. The way that he talks about you, you’d think otherwise.”
“Unfortunately, being human is all I know,” you said, trying to shove down the feeling of butterflies in your stomach at the mention of Jihoon speaking of you to his precious brothers.
Bumzu was now giving a ment, but you were still so focused on the man next to you.
He crossed his legs and looked out at the stage. He pursed his lips. “Y/N. He’s a bit of a handful sometimes, you know.”
“I’ve got two hands.”
He smirked at that. “Right. That you do. And if you and I really are similar, then. Well. I hope you really listen to what he has to say to you, even if it can be hard to hear. I hope you try to understand him even when he doesn’t make sense. And, of course, I hope you enjoy the rest of your life loving him.”
You felt some tears well up in your eyes. “I’ll try my best.”
Jeonghan looked at you softly and patted your knee. “That’s all I ask.”
He stood up and you gave a slight bow. He smiled and said, “Enjoy the show.”
Bumzu’s voice rang out: “And now, a special guest: WOOZI from SEVENTEEN.”
Your eyes snapped back towards the stage, barely noticing the figure of your bias move back out into the shadows of the concert hall. You were transfixed by the man walking out on stage, his pale skin glowing underneath the stage lights, his black collared shirt hanging loosely on his frame. The cheers could not distract you from the way he gripped and ungripped the microphone in his hand as he sat down on the stool.
He lifted the microphone to his lips and began speaking.
“Hello, everyone. I am SEVENTEEN’s WOOZI.”
His eyes were darting around, but only looking downwards, barely looking at the crowd. “Today, I’m going to sing a song that I’ve only ever sang once. Um. And that was by myself, in my studio. Not even the other members have heard it.”
The crowd were wowed at the prospect of hearing an entirely new song from a genius producer. Seeing the spotlight shine on him, you realize how bare he looked without his other members surrounding him. His vulnerability was amplified by the closer proximity of the space.
You knew he was the kind of person that would lessen the amount of lines he had solely to allow others to shine more. He wasn’t like the sun, the blazing fire that consumed the day. No, he was so much more like the moon, the one that would reflect others’ light, but in such a way that was never accosting.
Even on the stage in front of you, he glowed so ethereally, you wondered if he was always the fae that you believed lived near the winding tree at Old Man Park’s home. He was the guiding light in the midst of night, always present, but in a less overt way than its celestial partner.
The sun was stunning in its own right, life-giving, even, but the moon provided comfort to those who tread in the darkness.
And you’ve seen the way he has done just that.
Not just for you, but for millions around the world.
“This is, uh. A very personal song,” you couldn’t help but notice the way that his grip around his microphone tightened. “I’m not sure if many of you out there have been unsure about what the future holds. But, this song… captures that, I think. This is ‘What Kind of Future’.”
Your reaction to grab your phone to record was immediately cut off by the piano playing.
This… melody?
Your throat tightened. It sounded so similar to the lullaby he would sing–
As if nothing happened
I told myself that it was all a dream.
When I closed my eyes and opened them again,
I wanted to wake up with a relief.
The melody was so familiar, but because of that, you could focus solely on the lyrics he sang.
Was this song… about you?
No, your mind supplied. Don’t be delusional.
But what if it was?
Your heart began to pound loudly in your ears, and you had to take deep breaths so as to not miss anything that he had to say.
Our past that didn't line up
If I could go back in time
Rather than roughly, but warmly
Would I be able to let you go?
Your eyes widened.
You thought back to that moment in your house.
Could it be–?
When we weren't over
As I held onto whatever was left
You let go of me as I refused
Although I don't wanna see you, I miss you
Although I hate you, I miss you
I don't understand myself so well
You immediately recall the desperation on his face and the hurt in his voice that you couldn’t see until it was too late. It was shrouded by his anger and your desire to look away. To run away. Because, to a teen on the cusp of adulthood, that was easier than being honest.
This waiting
It's not easy to endure
If I forget that someday
As if nothing is wrong
Our future will be empty and
It's not that I want to forget you
You never wanted to forget him.
You couldn’t.
He surrounded you at every turn.
The best parts of you were things that you learned from him.
He softened your rough edges, quieted the inner criticisms, pacified the burning flames.
The idea of him never being a part of your life again was one that you could not fathom, even with all of your imagination. Because there was no way for the current you to exist without him. Not in a way that deemed him necessary, but in a way that his friendship, his love, for you shaped you into becoming someone you, yourself, learned to love as well.
Your future might have been filled with joy and happiness.
His, just as likely to.
But yours and his, as he said, our future, would be empty.
We were happy about us
You, who isn't me anymore
Although I don't wanna see you, I miss you
Although I hate you, I miss you
I don't understand myself so well
You tried to quell your tears as much as you could, in fear of missing even another moment with him. Because you realize now that the feelings you had were not one-sided. Of course, they couldn’t have been. The way that the two of you stuck by each other through thick and thin.
Why were you so adamant that it couldn’t be true?
What kind of future is coming before us?
Even if the Heavens don't give us an answer
I'm too stupid until the end
So I don't know the answer
The love you had for each other was so simple.
It was so direct, so straight-forward.
But the two of you made it complicated.
Why?
You also didn’t have an answer.
The both of you, burdened by the decisions of the past, anxious about the potential of the future.
As his vocals rang out, as he cried out, the tears finally streamed down your warm cheeks. You buried your face into your hands, listening to his voice, but unable to withstand the sight of him holding his microphone with such gentle, yet firm, hands. The same ones that trembled at his side that fateful day. Your breath staggered as you wept for the past versions of you.
The ones who struggled and constantly questioned whether you were loved by the person you longed for. The ones who somehow convinced themselves that you weren’t, rather than trusting in the obvious truth that you always had been.
And still are.
As the song concluded with his smooth vocals, the crowd erupted into cheers. You raised your head and found him looking longingly up in your direction, and if you weren’t mistaken, at you.
But how could he?
The stage lights were so bright, you were sure it was impossible to see beyond the stage.
But with the way his gaze softened as your bottom lip trembled.
Maybe, just maybe.
As soon as the crowd settled down to a reasonable level, he began speaking again. “Thank you all for attending tonight. Bumzu-hyung is an artist that I admire a lot, so I feel really honored that I was able to share my music here. This song is… both personal and special. And I hope that, maybe, someone out there can understand what I was trying to convey.
“Carats, thank you always for your support. Remember to stay healthy; I’m always wishing for your happiness. We hope that you continue to love and support SEVENTEEN. I’m always humbled by Carat’s love for us, and I really wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”
He began to fiddle with the microphone in his hands.
“Did you know that…” He trailed off for a moment before he glanced up in your direction. Your breath hitched. “...If you dream of fireflies, they’re supposed to represent guidance and inspiration? Because they’re kind of like a beacon of light in the dark. And according to some, they’re also meant to represent taking a chance at an opportunity that’s right in front of you. And I, uh. I’ve been dreaming of fireflies for a long time. So, I think… that means that it’s time to try and take that chance. I’m not sure what it’ll look like, but…”
He shut his eyes for a moment, tilting his head backwards, looking as though he was allowing the weight of his words to really sink into him. He brought the microphone back up to his lips.
“Thank you again. I hope our future together is one of happiness.”
He gave a slight bow to the audience who cheered loudly for him. He, once again, looked up in your direction. You weren’t sure whether he could see your expression, so instead you lifted your phone screen at its highest brightness, open to the phone dial screen.
If he gave any semblance of acknowledgement, it was imperceptible.
Bumzu was welcomed back to the stage and squeezed Jihoon’s shoulder before the latter excused himself off of the stage.
Almost possessed, you followed suit, leaving the upper gallery to rush towards the restroom, out of earshot and view of anyone else.
Not even a minute later, your phone starts vibrating.
You answer immediately. “That was fast.”
“We’ve wasted enough time, don’t you think?”
“Are you… running? You sound like you’re out of breath.”
“Meet me outside. Staff parking lot.”
“I–”
“Security cleared it out.”
“Jihoon, I’m not fit like you! I’m not a runner.”
“I’m not asking you to be. I’ll wait for you as long as you need.”
Your heart swelled. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“I’ll see you soon, firefly.”
The sound of his smile filled your senses as the call ended.
Despite your complaints earlier, your feet were carrying you at a pace you haven’t attempted since your required physical education class. Your eyes were darting around, searching, searching, searching. The adrenaline rushing through your body was enough to keep up your strides. You were rushing forward, and then–
You saw him.
He pushed his hair back, his chest rising up and down, attempting to catch his breath. He was definitely winded from the running. But there was no rest for the weary as your eyes locked. You found yourself barreling forward, not even really thinking of anything other than: him.
And his arms caught you with ease as you slammed yourself into his chest. He spun you around to lessen the impact, but tightened his grip on you. “Firefly–”
“Jihoonie.”
You held each other for a while.
Long enough for both of your breathing to even, for your heart rates to synchronize.
As though making up for lost time.
He adjusted his face just slightly away from the crook of your neck to speak. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere you want.”
“Yeah, well. I’m the driver, so no shit.”
Jihoon laughed and squeezed you closer to him. You let out a grunt. “You call the shots, firefly.”
You disentangled yourself from him and pulled out your car keys from your person. “Alright, get in, my passenger prince. Let’s take a trip down memory lane, hm?”
──────────────────
“Hi! My name is Y/N. Here’s a seashell!”
The young boy’s expression contorted into one of confusion. You were completely unaffected. He looked around at the empty playground, save for a few pigeons here and there, before pointing to himself. “Are you talking to me?”
You knew for a fact that he was someone that the CU convenience store auntie would call a ‘cutie’. You’d agree! “I’d like to!”
“I’m… I’m Lee Jihoon.”
“Okay, Jihoon! Can we be friends?”
“S-Sure.”
“Awesome!” You clapped your hands together. “I don’t really know what friends do together, but let’s go on the swings! You can sit first and I’ll push you. I’m very strong.”
“No, it’s okay! I can push you—”
“You don’t think I’m strong enough?”
“No, no. That’s not what I said—”
“Get on the swing, Lee Jihoon!”
“O-Okay.”
──────────────────
“Do you remember when I pushed you on the swing so hard that you lurched forward and got a nosebleed from falling onto your face?”
“That was the first day we met, firefly.”
“Well, I wanted to know if you remembered.”
“To the point that it haunts me.”
“You were so small and cute back then. So shy.”
You half expected that the two of you were going to drive in silence, just basking in each other’s presence. But, remaining true to the dynamic you two always had, there was still so much to talk about. You told him about the drive down from Seoul and how Busan really needed to up its driving laws to match the rest of the country. He told you about how Soonyoung just finished performing “Hurricane” on stage and Jeonghan sent him the video.
You told him about how Jeonghan actually approached you.
“Aha.”
You couldn’t turn to see his expression, so you asked, “Why? Is that a bad thing?”
“He, uh. Might’ve witnessed me have a bit of a mental breakdown backstage, so.”
You took his nervous laughter as a sign to not push further. “Honestly, me on any given Tuesday.”
“What, your grad program?”
“Oh, man, I gotta tell you.”
And so the two of you exchanged both stories and banter until you finally saw the shoreline coming into view. Just a couple of moments later, you parked your car along the sidewalk at the edge of the beach. This was a more local area, far away from tourist spots.
“Ah, this place.”
“Lotta memories here,” you said. You shot him a big smile as you turned off the engine. “Let’s go make a new one.”
The two of you exited your car and threw your socks and shoes into the trunk of your car, just like you did with his parents’ car, when you were children.
As you both walked towards the edge of the water, you were very aware of the silence that had fallen onto the two of you.
There was an instinct in you that told you to remain quiet.
“You know,” Jihoon broke the silence. You smiled to yourself. “I’ve always admired how you were able to be so honest about your feelings, without worrying about what other people think.”
“That’s the nice way of saying that I don’t think before I speak.”
He laughed and you relished in it. “Maybe.”
You skipped forward a bit more, letting your toes dig into the now cooled sand, the sun long set. You had your back turned to him as you waited for him to continue speaking.
“I was always someone who kept to himself. Who never really shared my heart with anyone.”
You hummed as you turned to face him directly. “You did in your own way, I think. You just needed people who knew how to read between the lines.”
“I was never honest about the hard stuff though.”
“What do you mean?”
“I constantly asked myself if I was worthy enough to love you.”
You opened your mouth to retort, but he continued.
“You loved me in such loud ways. You honestly left no room for doubt, and yet my brain managed to squeeze in some anyway. But… you know what I eventually realized?”
“What?”
“I realized that if I were to give myself to anyone, to be safe with anyone in the world, it would be okay if it was you. You’ve always been honest. Your sadness. Your joy. I know I can trust it. Maybe that’s naive considering how long we’ve spent apart. But you’ve never been anything but honest. So this is me trying to do the same. Y/N, my light, my firefly, I love you.”
In his eyes you saw him searching for something, anything. He might’ve not been able to interpret the expression on your face, but there was no need to. You pulled the collar of your shirt down to reveal the ink forever etched into your skin, placed over your heart.
Art that was drawn on a paper towel a decade ago.
You knew even in the dim light of the street lamps high above you, he could see it.
His jaw dropped. “Wait. That’s—”
“I broke one promise in my life. Just one. And I told myself I would never do it again. No matter how stupid the promises were, no matter how mundane, no matter how old they were. I would never break another promise. Because breaking that one promise ended up breaking me. The promise that I’d always be by your side.”
“What are you—?”
“Because it’s you, it’s always been you. Ever since I gave you that stupid seashell from this very beach,” you gestured at your surroundings. “And it was stupid because you could easily get your own, but you kept it. Like it was a precious treasure.”
The rampant beating in your chest matched the rhythm of your words.
“I don’t know what the future holds, Jihoon. I have no idea and I’m terrified. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know anything. Years at Yale, years at Seoul National, years spent in higher academia only taught me that I know so little. But you, oh, you were the worst reminder. I don’t get how you can make me feel so empty and filled at the same time. I don’t understand how you can make me feel at home with just a smile. I don’t know how you have such a hold on me. You’re just this strange enigma that I can’t seem to place, a riddle with no way to solve. But God, I so badly want to try. You’re a question I want to spend the rest of my life trying to answer. Because it’s you.”
He bit his lip and you wondered if you overwhelmed him.
“I’ve spent years, you know,” his voice barely above a whisper.
“Doing what?”
“Hoping that you would hear me. That my words would reach you,” he breathed out. His eyes softened as he recalled, “‘If a second life that’s different from now is to come to me, will I be by your side? Will you be by my side? I imagine things like this. Even if they’re words I mentioned as a joke. Will you believe me? Even if it’s a funny imagination. On a sudden day when I’m left alone, I’ll take my steps towards you again.’”
He stepped forward, hands reaching for yours, and you immediately took them, as soon as he was an arm’s length away. Physically, this wasn’t the closest he’s ever been, but it was the closest you’ve ever felt.
“‘You did this once before. Only by looking in your eyes I can tell. Whatever may happen, I want to know this emotion. When walking by my side, I don’t even want to let go of your hands. That flattering feeling is because of you, everything is so good.’”
He took another step forward, his voice dropped to barely above a whisper, hoping you could hear his words above his heart hammering in his chest.
“‘What can I do? Without you, my heart stops and it’s always cold. What can we do? Without me, you’ll struggle just as much, so what can we do?’” He paused, before recalling later lyrics. “‘I don’t wanna let you go like this. I don’t want to be scared with a broken heart. I’m the place you can come to. You’re the place I can go to.”
Tears formed in your eyes, but he brushed them away easily, now cupping your face within his hands, the tips of your noses brushing against each other, and you could have sworn he felt the fluttering of your eyelashes against him, dampened slightly by your watery eyes.
“‘I couldn’t express my feelings because I was too young. I wanted to be your tomorrow, so I lived today. Ever since the first day I saw you. In my heart, it’s always been you. These typical words, I’m only saying them now, but I hope these typical words will reach you.’”
You looked at him, your entire being filled and your senses flooded.
With him.
It was only him, him, him.
How could you not have realized?
His words, his feelings were so clear.
He had the kind of love for you that brings forth a melody.
His gentle voice drew you away from your own thoughts, “Thank you, firefly. For choosing me.”
“Always, Jihoonie. Always.”
He leaned in to close the distance.
You met him halfway.
──────────────────
Your hands were intertwined with his as you swung them lightly, back and forth, ebbing and flowing, like the waves almost reaching your feet on the coastline of the local beach where you would laze away during your adolescence and find adventure during your childhood.
The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, the sounds of the ocean and lull of the town around you, just basking in what felt like the stars finally aligning.
Jihoon squeezed your hand for a moment. “You know, I thought you left because you realized that I had feelings for you and didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“I’m sorry, what?” You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him, still not letting go of his hand, the sea breeze weaving itself between his and your hair.
He raised an eyebrow. “I thought I was pretty obvious. Hyung and noona thought the same. They figured it out pretty early on.”
“Um.”
He blinked. “You had no idea?”
“I—I thought you were in love with noona—”
“Hey, I might’ve thought she was pretty, but you were the one that turned that into something it wasn’t.”
“What! What about the times we went to try and find out whether the mini golf place was fun enough for a date idea? Or whether the food stand near the beach was romantic enough?”
“Please tell me you’re hearing yourself.”
“I’m—”
“Jesus, firefly. Are you serious? Did I end up ever taking her there? Did I even try? All of those places, all of those times, those were meant for you. You were the one who kept bringing up noona and what she would like while I was trying to figure out whether it would’ve been weird to reach out and hold your hand.” His grip tightened on yours.
You flushed at that. “Okay, but like—you spent so much time with noona before I left.”
“Because she was trying to help me plan something to get it through your thick skull just how in love I was because obviously none of the other things I did was enough.”
“I—you—she’s better than me.”
“I just confessed that I was in love with you, and you’re focusing on her right now?”
You blabbered out incoherent sounds and he merely laughed in your face at your reaction.
(Or maybe at himself.)
“Dozens of songs of writing my feelings for you into the lyrics, and you still didn’t get it. So. I’ll try and say it as clearly as possible. I love you, Y/N. What can I do to get you to notice me? Because I’ll do it, firefly. I swear I will.”
You bit your lip.
“I got my driver’s license.”
He wasn’t expecting that. “Uh… recently?”
“No. A month after you left, a month before I did. I got my driver’s license and I so badly wanted to call you to tell you. Because we talked about late night diner specials and how uncrowded the park was at six in the morning and you said I’d be your chauffeur forever.”
“Yeah, why should I have to learn?”
“Jihoon.”
“I’m doing alright without one, thanks.”
You rolled your eyes, but continued, “I drove around the neighborhood several times, passing by the mailboxes we used to Sharpie, the stop signs we tried to run up and slap, the sidewalks we crossed after hagwon, the sewer where we were convinced a clown lived.”
“That was a you thing, don’t drag me into it.”
“And I realized that none of it mattered if you weren’t in the passenger seat.”
“So, what are you saying? That I’m just good company?”
You eyed him and knew he was teasing, but there was a hint of insecurity underneath it. Because he said those words you had yet to acknowledge, let alone, respond to. The corner of your lips upturned. “Yeah, that’s it. And if it’s alright with you, I’d like to be in said company for at least one lifetime. I love you, Lee Jihoon.”
“You’re missing the ‘too,’ since I said it first.”
“You’re annoying.”
“It’s been one of the only ways to get you to look at me, firefly.”
“Mm. I’m always looking.”
“Respectfully?”
“Most times. Have you seen the ‘Good to Me’ choreo?”
He bumped your shoulder as you burst into a fit of giggles, choosing to let go of his hand to wrap your arms around his waist as he pretended to stomp off. He stuck his tongue out at you, calling you a pervert, and you said, “Hey, you’re the one that’s in love with me, alright?”
He swept you up into his arms and rather than carrying you princess-style or even in a piggy-back ride, he threw you over his shoulder and you yelped loudly.
“Jihoon!”
“Y/N!”
“Let me go!”
“Nope. Never again.”
You made a gagging noise. Who is this shameless kid?
“I’ll put you down though, my shoulder hurts.”
You smacked it once you were on your own two feet and ran as much as you could with the weight of your feet sinking into the wet sand with each step. He quickly closed the distance between the two of you and tackled you to the ground. You fell back, with his hand behind your head, ensuring no damage to your person. You giggled up at him.
The edge of the waves were mere centimeters from you, but seeing him against the endless night sky, with glittering stars, him, your moon, you could not bring yourself to care.
You had so many questions you wanted to ask him, about his life as an idol, about his pursuits and his struggles and his hopes and his dreams. You were so excited to fall in love with him again. You hoped that he would be just as excited to love the person that you’ve become, the one that is so wholly you, but has been transformed by him.
Leaving things left unsaid was a burden the two of you beared for far too many years, believing that you deserved the painful yearning of each other, to make up for the choices made as teenagers.
You breathed in the salt of the sea, as you thought about how, years ago, you were in the same city, letting this very person walk away from you. Shame washed over you, as it has for years, like the waves that were ebbing and flowing right beside you, and tears began to form in your eyes. It was almost embarrassing, how easily you let him slip away. He deserved so much.
“I’m a lot,” you choked out.
He smiled softly as he cupped your face gently, not moving to brush away tears that were threatening to fall. He simply held you, wordlessly accepting all that you were.
“Never too much, and always enough, firefly.”
You wanted to thank whatever higher power was out there.
Whatever one compelled Jihoon to search your Instagram page and accidentally like a post from years ago, a notification that could have been swiped away accidentally in the middle of the night by a bleary-eyed and half-awake you.
Because what kind of future would’ve come otherwise?
Would you have reconnected in some other way, more purposeful and intentional?
Or would you have convinced yourselves that living apart was something that was inevitable and it was better to have simply let the past be the past?
Or would you have yearned for each other in ways that even the potential of running into each other would lead to an eruption of nerves?
You breathed in slowly as you wrapped your arms around his middle, breathing him in, letting his heartbeat drown out even the sound of the crashing ocean beside you.
It didn’t really matter.
This future will be one that you build.
Together.
[끝.]
#lee jihoon x reader#woozi x reader#seventeen fanfiction#kpop fanfiction#seventeen fic#svt fic#lee jihoon#woozi#세븐틴#mine#svt fanfiction#seventeen#svt#woozi fic#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#seventeen drabbles#svt fluff#seventeen angst#svt x reader#Spotify#woozi x you#lee jihoon x you
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1k night celebration 🍾🍾🍾🎈congrats 😏
i don’t know if you write ABO but if you do, please do an Alpha! Agatha Harkness who meets omega! Reader. Agatha see the fear in Reader’s eyes. Reader is terrified. Agatha is horny and thinks that Reader is pretty
Nothing to Fear Dear
Alpha!Agatha Harkness x omega!fem!reader
Summary: You are terrified of Alpha's, but suddenly one comes into your life that is just...different.
Word count: 2.4K
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, a/b/o content (marking/scent glands/scenting/breeding), shit alpha's wolf whistling and being rude to R
A/N: This is my first time writing ABO! Please if I got anything wrong please tell me how I could improve! I love reading ABO and would love to write more I just don't know if I did it justice.
You didn't trust Alphas. Your history with them wasn't good. Your dad, your cousins, your ex. Telling you what you could and couldn't do. Controlling you at every turn. Now that you were on your own and away from all of them.
You tended to stay home, get things delivered, but there was a farmers market with the nice weather rolling in and you really wanted to go see what it was like. You got yourself dressed for the day; nothing too revealing, nothing that would catch an Alphas attention. You took a little tote with you that you had bought with every intention of using sooner, but you barely left the house.
You step into the bustling farmers market, immediately enveloped by a symphony of sounds and scents. The air is alive with the chatter of vendors and the hum of visitors exploring the stalls. Vibrant displays of fresh produce catch your eye—deep red tomatoes, crisp green lettuces, and baskets overflowing with colorful berries.
As you stroll through the market, the scent of freshly baked bread mingles with the earthy aroma of herbs. You pause at a stand where a farmer enthusiastically offers you a slice of juicy peach, its sweetness bursting in your mouth. Nearby, a musician strums a cheerful tune on a guitar, adding a lively backdrop to your experience.
You find yourself drawn to a table laden with homemade jams and honey, each jar gleaming in the sunlight. The vendor, an elderly woman with a warm smile, shares the story of how her bees produce the honey you now sample on a small wooden spoon. The rich, floral notes of the honey linger on your palate as you continue your journey.
The vibrant energy of the farmers market is both exhilarating and slightly overwhelming. You navigate through the bustling crowd, making sure to keep to the less crowded paths. Despite your efforts to avoid attention, the occasional Alpha scent catches your nose, causing a flicker of anxiety.
You remind yourself to breathe, focusing on the pleasant sensory experiences around you. The sweet taste of the peach, the melody of the musician's guitar, and the warmth of the sun on your skin all help to ground you. You approach a stand with beautifully arranged flowers and pause to admire the vibrant array of colors.
As you continue exploring, you find yourself stopping at a stand featuring an assortment of herbs and spices. The vendor, a middle-aged Beta with a kind demeanor, offers you a sample of a fragrant lavender sachet. You inhale deeply, the soothing scent helping to further calm your nerves.
It’s while you’re at this stand that you feel a presence nearby. Turning slightly, you see her—a striking woman with brown hair and an air of confidence that immediately marks her as an Alpha. She’s examining a selection of fresh herbs, her expression thoughtful and focused. You can’t help but notice her tailored, yet casual outfit, giving off a sense of understated elegance.
Your instinct is to move away, to avoid any possible interaction, but something about her presence is different. She doesn't exude the same domineering aura you've come to associate with Alphas. Instead, there's a calm, almost magnetic quality to her. Before you can make a decision, she glances up and catches your eye, offering you a gentle smile.
“Lovely day for a market, isn’t it?” she says, her voice warm and inviting.
You nod, managing a small smile in return. “It is,” you reply softly.
“I’m Agatha,” she introduces herself, extending a hand. “It’s nice to see new faces around here.”
You hesitate for a moment before shaking her hand. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Do you come here often, Y/N?” she asks, her gaze steady and kind.
“No, not really. This is my first time,” you admit, feeling a bit self-conscious.
“Well, you’ve picked a good day for it. The weather is perfect, and the produce is exceptional this time of year,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “If you’re looking for recommendations, I’d be happy to help.”
The offer is tempting, and despite your usual wariness around Alphas, something about Agatha makes you feel at ease. “That would be nice, actually. I’m not really sure where to start.”
Agatha’s smile widens. “Great! How about we start with the fruit stand over there? They have the best strawberries you’ll ever taste.”
As you walk together, Agatha points out her favorite stalls, sharing little anecdotes and tips. Her presence is comforting, and you find yourself relaxing more with each step. The way she interacts with the vendors and other market-goers shows a level of respect and genuine kindness that you haven’t seen in an Alpha before.
By the time you’ve filled your tote with fresh produce and a few delightful treats, you realize that you’ve enjoyed yourself more than you expected. Agatha has made the experience not only bearable but pleasant.
As Agatha shows you around the market, you begin to let your guard down. Her warm, genuine demeanor makes it easier to forget the usual anxiety you feel in the presence of Alphas. However, this fleeting sense of comfort is shattered when a group of Alphas nearby start to take notice of you.
"Hey there, sweetheart!" one of them calls out, his tone laced with a possessive edge that sends a shiver down your spine.
Another Alpha joins in, letting out a piercing wolf whistle that makes your heart race with fear. You freeze, instinctively drawing closer to Agatha. Your eyes meet hers, and you see a flash of something intense and protective in her gaze.
In an instant, Agatha steps closer to you, her presence becoming a shield against the unwanted attention. The scent of lavender intensifies around you, soothing your frayed nerves. Agatha's expression shifts, her previously warm smile replaced with a steely determination.
"Is there a problem here?" she asks, her voice calm but with an underlying firmness that commands respect.
The Alphas, taken aback by her sudden presence, hesitate. One of them scoffs, trying to maintain his bravado. "We were just having a bit of fun," he says, though the uncertainty in his eyes is evident.
Agatha takes another step forward, positioning herself directly between you and the other Alphas. "Well, I suggest you find your fun elsewhere. This Omega is with me." Her tone leaves no room for argument, her Alpha presence now fully asserting itself.
The other Alphas exchange glances, the weight of Agatha's authority pressing down on them. They grumble among themselves before deciding it’s not worth the confrontation. One by one, they back off, their eyes still wary of Agatha.
Once they’re gone, Agatha turns to you, her expression softening immediately. "Are you alright?" she asks gently, concern evident in her voice.
You nod, still a bit shaken but deeply grateful. "Thank you, Agatha. I don’t know what I would have done without you."
She places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, her touch grounding you. "You don’t have to worry when you’re with me," she says softly. "I won’t let anyone hurt you."
The sincerity in her words touches something deep within you. Despite your past experiences, you feel a growing trust in Agatha. Her actions have shown you that not all Alphas are the same—that there are those who can be kind and protective without being controlling.
As you continue to explore the market together, Agatha remains close by, her presence a comforting anchor. The other vendors and market-goers seem to recognize her protective stance, giving you both a respectful distance.
By the time you leave the market, your tote filled with fresh produce and delightful treats, you realize that today has been more than just a shopping trip. It’s been a step toward healing and perhaps the beginning of a new friendship.
As you part ways, Agatha gives you a warm smile. "I hope to see you again, Y/N. Maybe we can make this a regular thing."
You smile back, the anxiety that usually plagues you feeling more distant than ever. "I’d like that," you reply, and for the first time in a long while, you truly mean it.
-----------------
The weeks following your initial encounter with Agatha have been transformative. Each trip to the market with her has been better than the last. She introduces you to her favorite stalls, the vendors greeting you both warmly, and slowly, you’ve started to feel like you belong. Agatha’s presence has been a comforting constant, her protective nature ensuring you always feel safe.
Today, however, is different. Agatha had invited you out for a date beyond the familiar confines of the market. The thought had initially filled you with trepidation, but her kind eyes and gentle smile had reassured you. She had taken you to a quaint café, where you spent hours talking and laughing, the time slipping by unnoticed. As the sun began to set, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange, Agatha suggested heading back to her place for a nightcap.
You hesitated but agreed, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety. Her home is cozy and inviting, filled with the same warmth and charm that she exudes. As you step inside, you can’t help but feel a surge of affection for the woman who has slowly become so important to you.
Agatha offers you a drink, and you both settle on the comfortable couch in her living room. The conversation flows easily, but there’s an underlying tension—a palpable awareness of the new territory you’re venturing into.
As the evening progresses, Agatha moves closer, her touch gentle yet insistent. When her hand finds yours, the connection sends a jolt through you. You’ve never felt so much fear and love all at once. Her touch is tender, but there’s an intensity in her eyes that makes your heart race.
"Y/N," she whispers, her voice husky with emotion. "I’ve wanted this for so long."
You swallow hard, your own emotions a turbulent mix. "Agatha, I… I’m scared," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
She cups your face in her hands, her thumb brushing gently over your cheek. "You don’t have to be afraid. I’ll never hurt you," she promises, her eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.
You nod, trying to focus on the love you feel rather than the fear. "I trust you," you whisper, and the words are a revelation to yourself as much as they are to her.
Her lips find yours, the kiss starting slow and soft, but quickly becoming more passionate. Her hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel her need for you in every touch. Your heart races, but this time it’s from desire rather than fear.
Agatha’s hands roam over your body, exploring with a gentle yet insistent touch. Every caress sends shivers down your spine, the fear slowly melting away under the heat of her affection. She pulls back for a moment, looking into your eyes, her own filled with a mix of love and desire.
"Are you okay?" she asks, her voice filled with genuine concern.
You nod, your breath coming in short gasps. "Yes, Agatha. I’m more than okay."
Her smile is radiant, and she kisses you again, this time with a fervor that leaves you breathless. You surrender to the moment, letting yourself be carried away by the wave of emotions. Agatha’s touch is both tender and possessive, her need for you evident in every movement.
She pulls you onto her lap, working you against her throbbing cock that pushes against her pants, making you moan out. It had been years since you had sex with another. Your fear took such a hold you’d taken suppression pills not wanting the attention of Alpha’s when you’d go into heat. You hadn’t been taking them since you met Agatha. She made you feel safe even though the fear sat in your chest like a heavy stone.
“Are you okay Y/N?” Agatha pulls you back to reality and you realize you’re not breathing properly.
“I got lost in thought. I’m sorry.” You tried to make an excuse, but Agatha knew you better she saw the look in your eyes.
“It’s me sweet girl. No ones going to hurt you.” She pulled you close, brushing against you and scenting, a lavender calm over you and you didn’t need much more to start grinding down on her. You wanted, no needed this, needed her and Agatha felt the same way. Trying to get herself out of her pants as fast as she could and you had worn a skirt because Agatha had asked.
She pulled your panties aside, rubbing against you as a moan tumbled out past your lips. Agatha pulled your lips towards her own, whispering against your lips,
“Is this okay?” You nodded frantically, moving your hips just enough for her to slip inside. Suddenly you’re getting pulled down onto her. “Fuck...you feel perfect. My pretty girl. Such a pretty little omega.” All you could do is nod dumbly as she thrusted up into you.
Nothing had ever felt this good. Nothing had even ever come close to how Agatha was making you feel right now as she thrusted up into you and you rolled your hips. She felled you up perfectly like she was made for you.
“A-Agatha...?” You breathed out, making her look at you. “Mark me. Please...wanna be yours...please let me be yours.”
“Only if you’ll be mine pretty girl.” You smiled all big and blissed out on her cock.
“Yes! Please wanna mark you too!” She smiled, leaning in and pulling you further onto her cock as she knotted you, filling you up full and biting into your neck, making you moan out at the double pain and pleasure combo. Once she pulled back you leaned in, marking her. The sound she made for you was perfect as you clenched around her. She was made for you and you were made for her.
As the night progresses, you realize that this is what you’ve been missing. The balance of fear and love, the intensity of her affection, and the safety you feel in her arms. Agatha has shown you that it’s possible to feel safe and loved without being controlled, and for the first time, you truly believe it.
When the night finally ends, you’re wrapped in her embrace, feeling more at peace than you ever have before. Agatha’s presence is a balm to your soul, and you know that with her, you can face whatever the future holds.
Taglist: @dorabledewdroop
#ley writes#ley writes requests#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#agatha harkness
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like real people do. / kageyama tobio / nsfw
wc: 5.5k
Warnings: Kageyama is autistic, smut, fingering, reader has nipple piercings, reader works in A&R for music, reader used to live in brazil, friends to lovers, awkward sex
A/N: experimenting with more awkward/realistic smut and I love my autistic blorbo Kageyama
thank you to @peachyminx and @dervngedgf for beta reading
Kageyama never did understand the way that conversations worked, or were supposed to work. They were winding, circuitous, jumping from place to place. Unstable like a fault line, bursting from tension. The older he got the more he began to have a loose grasp on them. One so faint it slipped from his fingers if there was too much deviation. It hadn’t been easy to get to this point. It took years of failed attempts at making friends, three failed relationships, and a PR manager to get here.
Hardly a gentle climb into social know-how.
There was a script that worked in most situations. The gym, interviews, the grocery store, casuals and quick conversations weren’t altering his normal routine in any major way. He liked things being the normal way.
So why the hell was he in a club? A place that went so far against the normal?
It had been Hirugami’s idea, he said that the team needed to bond more. Kageyama knew it was just a thinly veiled excuse to get drunk on the team’s card.
It was awful— the drinking.
Conversations were bad enough while sober, small talk, social cues being a forge in language, and alcohol just made him feel worse about them. The script was thrown across the room and given to an AI generator that made something worse for him to spit back out.
The pounding music, early 2000s rap, split his head with each drum beat feeling like it was played against his skull. He could smell everything, the foreigners easily able to be picked out from the crowd. The buttons on his navy blue dress shirt had started choking him early so it was now half undone, which he hated. Shirts were meant to have only one, or two, buttons undone depending on the level of formality of the event attending. How many were appropriate for a club? At four buttons down the curve of the underside of his pecs could be seen.
He felt out of place, out of his element, and like a child sitting at the grown-ups' table for the first time and trying to seem mature.
“Tobio!” Nicolas shouted at him from across the booth. “When are you going to bring Y/N around again?”
His face scrunched up. “Why?”
“Because if you’re not going to make a move I am!” Nicolas’ laugh was grating and sharp. “They used to live not far from my parents. A shame it took until now to meet.”
“I thought you were working things out with Maria?” Kageyama had stopped bringing you around after one too many comments on how he was in love with you and afraid to make a move. Something Nicolas harped on him for and took every opportunity to flirt with you in front of him.
“Por que não ambos? Maria doesn’t have to know.” Kageyama hated the smirk that spread across the Brazilian's face. He knew that Nicolas was teasing him, just like he knew Nicolas wasn’t interested in you in the slightest, but it always drove him up the wall.
Wakatoshi cut in, voice steady and flat, as always. As much as Kageyama struggled with conversations he knew Wakatoshi would be right there with him. “I believe we have discussed many times that Kageyama-san has stated he is waiting for a better opportunity to discuss his feelings with Y/N-san.”
“That’s what he said last week and three months ago and then six months ago.” Sokolov chimed into the conversation now, monkey-like as he usually was, followed by Heiwajima.
“You really should talk to them about it. Either way, you need closure to get past your emotional constipation.”
Kageyama wanted to crawl into a hole. It was bad enough having to figure out his feelings but having them discussed in front of him made him want to jump off the side of Tokyo Tower. His feelings were complicated. Tangled and messy, blending into each other. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to separate them let alone tell you about them.
“Guuys chill, chill,” Hirugami was back with another round of drinks. “Tobio will get to it when pigs fly.” The team busted out laughing. It was humiliating no matter how many times they all poked at him about it. The only way that he’d ever get them to stop was to confess to you.
“Fuck you guys.” He was grumpy now, grumbling into his drink as he took a swig.
The chorus all said they just wanted the best for him, that there was no way you didn’t feel the same way, that it was all in good faith, all stuff to make them feel better about teasing him. He hated being teased.
Maybe if he just told you they’d finally leave him alone about it. You might get distant for a bit but he had faith that you could be friends again down the road.
“If I tell them tonight will you guys leave me alone about it?”
Nicolas’ sly look managed to get worse. “You tell them tonight and I’ll give you ten thousand yen.”
“Deal.”
Slipping his phone out of his front pocket and pulling up your contact information had never felt so stressful. He didn’t need the money, he just wanted to be left alone about this.
To: Y/N
Can you meet me outside Playa Del Sol?
From: Y/N
You’re at a club?
To: Y/N
I wasn’t my idrea
Typing was hard. The heat of all the bodies in the room made his hand slippery.
From: Y/N
Lucky you, I’m just down the street at a gig
>You think you’d be fine to hang out for that? Local band
To: Y/N
As long as it’s not Sean Paul
From: Y/N
Kk see you in 10
Kageyama was, as usual, grateful for your friendship as he excused himself from the group and headed outside to wait for you. More often than not you served as a refuge for him. One of the few people in the world who truly understood him. You didn’t question his mannerisms and need for routine.
Once he had asked if you thought he was weird, as flawed as he felt, and you had looked at him as if the question was stupid and gave a simple ‘no.’
Meeting you had been a deviation from the norm in the best way. Hinata had been visiting and when they were out they bumped into you, surprised since you had been a manager at one of Hinata’s favorite jazz clubs back in Brazil.
Kageyama got lost in the conversation as Hinata and you bounced between English, Portuguese, and Japanese when speaking. You had corrected and steered the conversation to Japanese, seeing Kageyama’s confusion.
Your Japanese was clunky back then, and your mouth still struggling with the syllables at times. More than that, your understanding of pitch accent back then was abysmal.
But that meeting had changed his world, shifted its axis.
Eventually, Hinata’s two-month vacation ended and he left, and Kageyama expected you to leave his orbit too. But you didn’t, you stayed around. It’s been three years and you were still around. And it's been a year since he realised he loved you.
When the night air had started to sink in, sweat from the club finally drying, he saw you round the corner.
Every time he saw you he thought he’d get used to how beautiful you were but he never could. You were bright as the sun, warming him, the rays of your light brushing across his skin promised growth, comfort, and shelter.
Your braids had been half pulled back in some sort of half-updo, two ponytails at the top of your head. He has watched you do them the other week. Or he had been watching before you made him help you since he was sitting there. He didn’t know how to braid at all, but you made him learn. Told him your continued friendship was dependent on it.
He was glad you made him learn though. It gave him an excuse to be in your space, close to you, for hours on end. To touch you without worrying if the amount of contact was normal or not.
“Tobio!” His name always sounded so perfect coming from your glossed lips. There was a twinkle in your eyes. You had done your makeup for “special events” as you had once explained it to him. Instead of a normal cat eye, you had graphic black eyeliner. He never understood why you wore makeup but he knew that it was something you enjoyed doing.
He stumbled a bit as he moved towards you, wetting his lips with his tongue. “Y/N.”
“Whoa careful there big guy! How much have you had to drink tonight?”
Your arm grasped his bicep, his heart stuttering at the contact.
“Three double vodka cranberries and one beer.”
Your brows raised. “Rough time in there huh?”
“You have no idea.” Kageyama launched into recounting what had happened.
One of his favourite things about you was how you didn’t press on topics he didn’t want to talk about. You left the conversation shift onto the gig you dragged him to and about the band. His second favourite thing about you was your willingness to unabashedly talk about your interests. Your job as an A&R at Sony meant you were always talking to him about a new band or artist. Before meeting you he wouldn’t consider himself someone who cared about music much. It was just something to help him keep pace while running. He didn’t understand why people liked it. But by watching you he started to dissect the reasons.
It wasn’t a conscious decision, no grand realisation listening to a recommendation from you. It was a gradual shift. He started listening to more things, trying to pick out ones you’d like and he could send them to you. It was only after Wakatoshi had pointed out he was humming one day that he clocked the change went beyond just you.
When you got to the venue, you flashed your Employee ID at security and pulled Kageyama in behind you. It was just as dimly lit as the club but the smaller venue made it less obstructive. You had dragged him here before for a folk singer-songwriting you signed after the show. He had no idea what he was about to listen to but he knew if it was you, it’d be good.
You led him to the middle of the standing-room area. You preferred a more central location so you could observe the artist’s dynamics and stage presence. While he would normally want to be on the outskirts, he didn’t mind being in the middle. It was crowded though so you were stood in front of him. Someone walked past and knocked you back against him.
“Sorry!” You knew that he didn’t like physical contact much, so you created space as soon as you could. It pained him.
“It’s okay. I don’t mind if it’s you.” When you smiled up at him, he felt like he was going to short-circuit. “Who are we discovering today?”
Another person bumped you into him, shifting your balance and almost causing you to fall. He wrapped his arms around you to stabilise you before he even knew what he was doing.
You muttered under your breath something about expecting better from the crowd here. “You remember Hozier?”
He knew who Hozier was. You had forced him to listen to Hozier’s entire discography one day. He liked Hozier. In another world maybe he would be as good with his words as the singer was. He could write you poems and sonnets, tell you all the little things about you that made him feel right. As much as he might try now, he couldn’t so he hoped that you wouldn’t hold it against him.
“Yes. You made me listen to his entire discography.” His throat felt dry. “I don’t believe I understood all the metaphors but he has a good voice.”
“Well, imagine Hozier if he was Japanese. And he blended traditional instruments, taiko drums and all that, with a raspy voice and great lyricism.”
“I see.” His gaze shifted, watching you adjust in his arms. He wondered if he should release you if he was supposed to have let go three seconds ago or held on longer. Now he was scared to move and make it weirder by moving.
“Sorry, should I let you go?” He was nervous, anxiety creeping, edging him out of the buzz he had from drinking earlier and into harsh sobriety.
“No, it’s okay. I’m kinda cold and you’re really warm.”
“Okay.”
The conversation between the two of you died down and Kageyama wanted to make a clone of himself and shake it around. What the hell was he doing? Under the dim lights, the first few chords starting to play, cradling you in his arms, he felt so nervous.
The opening band started to fill the room with an instrumental. Their first two songs went by quickly enough at least. You would sway along, occasionally bobbing your head to the beat. Your eyes were focused on them as they performed. Someone might look over and think you were a long-time fan of the opening act, enraptured by their performance, but Kageyama knew you. You were appraising them, seeing if they had potential.
As their set drug on, he found himself watching you more than the band. Your brows would twitch, pulling together in the middle for a split second, every time they did something you considered to be a technical miss. You had told him that bands were like a team of volleyball players.
When you explained it you said that singers were like aces. The powerhouse that made a team stand apart from their opponents. Drums were the setter. They set the tempo, and the flow, of the song Guitars were like hitters, driving down the point. Keys or synths were liberos, not always on the track but essential for making a good song, and basses were middle blockers, getting a perfect read and keeping the team grounded. So far it seemed like the band was winning their set.
He liked watching you like this, seeing you the most in your element. It hurt his heart, made it tight in his chest from how your eyes darted across the stage. It felt like ripping off a bandage. Diving without a kneepad and your skin tearing on the polished floor of the court. Like hand sanitiser in a superficial wound. Painful, but knowing that the pain was a sign of growth, of healing.
The lighting changed, hues of pink and red, as the frontman started talking about their next and final song. He was telling the crowd to grab their lovers, pull them close, and sway along with the music. Kageyama nearly choked when you turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Well hello lover.” you giggle at the last word, joking about your relationship. While didn’t like the joking nature of it, he wanted it to be real, he liked you calling him it. Your fingernails scratched at the nape of his neck, tangling in the hairs there.
He had had too much to drink and feeling your chest against his own was making the blood rush from his head and straight to his groin. He felt like a teenage boy, unable to keep himself from growing hard. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he swore he could feel your nipples.
His breath hitched as he went to respond, low and raspy in your ear. “Hello.” Kageyama wanted to say something better, more suave and flirtatious, wishing for a second that he could embody the same way with women Nicolas had.
“How much did you have to drink?”
“Not enough.” His cheeks were flush, he needed something in this moment. To pull you closer against himself or to push you away so you didn’t catch on to his growing hard-on.
Your heartbeat against his own in the confined space, slower than his rapid one. The music drowned out, turning to background sounds as he stared into your eyes. Eye contact was normally so forced for him, constantly having to remind himself to make it. It felt so much more intense with you like you could see through him. He loved your eye colour and the way the corners of your eyes crinkled when you smiled.
Your lips curled up into a smile as you gazed at him, coated in a shimmery gloss that smelt like vanilla. Your tongue poked out the wet your lips, something you always did when you needed to reapply the lip gloss. He wanted to know what it felt like against his own. If it was as sticky as it looked. If it’d pull into fine strands as you separated.
“What are you staring at so intensely? I feel like you’re dissecting me.”
He felt loose and sappy from the drinks earlier, more willing to take risks.
“You. I’m staring at you.”
“Me?”
His eyes shifted up to meet yours again. “You.” You chuckled a little bit at him before replying.
“Why?”
“I want to kiss you.” The words slipped out of him before he could stop them, once again putting his foot in his mouth. You were going to reject him, tell him off for violating your boundaries. He’d have to text Hinata tomorrow that he fucked up with you and that everything went wrong.
“Kiss me.” The first time you said the words it didn’t compute in his brain.
“Tobio, kiss me.” He stood frozen, short-circuiting, he had been so set on an outcome that a change in path threw him off.
The trance was broken when he felt your lips against his, sticky from the lip gloss as he imagined. You were soft, like a feather brushing across his kiss, gentle and tentative. When you pulled away from him it felt like he could breathe again. You tasted sweet, no doubt partially from the lip gloss but also just you. He wanted more.
Kageyama leaned in, one hand tentatively reaching up to the side of your face to cradle it. His lips met yours again it started with pecks, gentle like you had been, before building in intensity. It felt like Kageyama had been starving for years, the sensation unknown and accepted as just a part of living, but as your mouth opened and his tongue met yours he realised that his hunger, his craving, his desire, had been an aspect of himself so far removed from his understanding until this moment. He understood want and need now that he had tasted you.
The heat of your breath melting with his own made his nerves alight as you parted for air.
“I’m in love with you.” Your forehead met his shoulder and you laughed.
“Tobio I know,” it was like the lights in the room knew to shine down around you giving you a halo. “You’re not good at hiding it.”
“I’m sorry.” You tucked your head under his chin and he let his hands slip down from your waist and into your back pockets, feeling emboldened by your actions.
You swayed with him to the beat of the song as the transition music into the main act’s set began.
“If it’s any consolation I found it cute.” Your lips met the side of his neck and you tilted upwards to his ear. “I’m in love with you too.”
He joined you in shifting side to side, enjoying the moment as you murmured against his skin, voice warmth with honesty. He didn’t understand it all, but he understood you in this moment, the shared feeling of love between you. One old and ancient, but never weathered by time, still steadfast in its stature. Unending, unshifting.
The “Japanese Hozier” stepped out onstage and Kageyama let you turn to face the stage, moving to take his hands off you only to find them being wrapped around your waist again, guided by your hands. He wouldn’t remember the set list, or the singer's performance, too entangled in you and feeling you in all his senses to care about anything else.
───※ ·❆· ※───
You had brought him home after the show, still humming some of the songs as you puttered around. He had changed as you made a midnight snack for the two of you. His hair hung in clumped damp strands as he played sudoku on his phone waiting for you to finish up. You hated when he got in your way in the kitchen.
With a plate full of mini pancakes you plopped down on the couch next to him, your makeup removed and hair up. He liked you the most like this, relaxed and human. Sometimes he worried you were an angel sent down from the heavens to make him believe in god but instead drove him to sin.
He took one off the plate when you moved it closer to him. Chewing on it slowly, watching you nibble on yours.
“You wanna talk about it?” His eyes were peeled on your lips.
“Only if you’re comfortable.”
“I’m fine…” you moved and placed the plate on the coffee table. “Good, actually. Great even.”
“I feel like I owe you an explanation.”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “For what?”
“I don’t know.” He felt so many things right now it was difficult to verbalise any of them.
You pulled your knees to your chest and faced him. A braid fell into your face and you tucked it behind your ear. Every time he looked at you he understood poetry and prose, songs of admiration, why men would go to war over their lovers. It was nonsensical, to think you could see stars in someone's eyes, but you reflected the lights of the room like a planetarium. He thought that he might die before he found the words to express his thoughts and feelings to you, to get his point across, but he knew with you he didn’t have to. He had never had to.
His hand encompassed your own, interlocking his fingers with yours. They fit together like puzzle pieces, you the last piece needed to complete the puzzle. Simple connection, conjoining of spirits.
Kageyama tugged on your hand, pulling you towards himself, making you come to rest on your shins in between his legs. He kissed the back of your hand, softly, tenderly, still afraid that there was something he was missing. But the ball never dropped, the tower never crumbled, and he led you further forward, your free hand resting at his chest before slithering up the back of his neck.
He couldn’t tell if it was you or him who moved first, closing the distance between you, your lips meeting again. It felt more tentative than the first ones had. Careful and measured, aware of the space, the boundaries, the dynamic you had had. Of how that was shifting, changing, as the pretences you had were changed.
Kageyama dropped your hand in favour of wrapping his around your waist, guiding you to manoeuvre into his lap. Your ass rested against his groin. The longer he kissed you, the more he felt himself growing hard, aided by your hips grinding down on him. Once on a night out with the team, you had danced with him and it was then that he learned of how fluid you were. Tonight you were water, dripping down on him, swirling around him, wetting his skin.
He palmed at the waistband of the sleep shorts you had changed into, desperately wanting to remove them but unwilling to force you into something. You pulled away from kissing him to remove your shorts, left in just your underwear and oversized shirt. Kageyama quickly stripped off his shirt before kissing you again, this time letting it evolve into making out with you.
One of your hands moved to his lower abdomen, brushing against his happy trail, making him shiver. He felt you palm at his length through his sweats, slow and sensually. His dick was bigger than you thought it’d be. Average girth but one or two inches longer than expected.
“Can I touch you?”
“Yes.” His response was quick, jumping the gun, eager to have you take him in your hand.
When your skin met his Kageyama swore he might cum from it. His emotions were high-strung, making him more sensitive. He whimpered as your thumb crossed over the tip.
Your hands felt like velvet against him, smooth and soft, your touch gentle but firm, supplying the perfect amount of pressure as you began sliding it up and down his shaft. His stomach muscles tightened as you went along, pulling him in on himself. It should be criminal that you made him feel such a way from something so simple, reducing him into a schoolboy being touched for the first time.
He wrapped a hand around your wrist to stop your movements, separating from kissing you to speak.
“I’m going to cum if you do that too much.”
“That’s the goal Tobio.”
“Yes, I know, but I would like to make you cum before I do.”
You gave a small smile, butterflies flitting around in his stomach as you did. “Well, who am I to stop you?”
You crossed your arms as you took off your shirt. When you changed earlier you must not have put on a bra. The curve of your waist he knew already to be temptation incarnate, but the swell of your chest would turn any many into a sinner.
Your nipples were hard as they were exposed to the cool air of your apartment, small silver balls catching the overhead light.
“You have your nipples pierced?”
You cupped your breasts, pinching your nipples. Tobio’s eyes were locked in, focused on the way the silver complimented you. “Yeah, I’ve had them for ages.”
“Can I touch them?” He wanted to pinch at your nipples and feel the cool metal beside them. Your nod was all he needed to do so.
His touch was hesitant at first, afraid of damaging the piercing somehow. When he squeezed down harder on them he could feel the bars going through your nipples. It was interesting to him, the modification, he wondered what made you get them in the first place.
As he pinched and twisted your nipples slightly, a soft whimper snuck out the back of your throat, going straight to his already painfully hard erection.
If you were sensitive to this he wanted to know what it would do to you if he took them into his mouth. It was in the name of science that he did so, leaning forward and wrapping his mouth around your left nipple.
The metal met his tongue, cold and sharp, constructing against the warmth of your chest. He was cautious not to use his teeth as he played with your nipple in his mouth. You gave out small moans and gasps, hips stuttering against his own, as you threw your head back. Ever since you had gotten them pierced your nipples were more sensitive than ever.
Kagayema stared up at you. He wondered how he got so lucky in life. He’d have to go to the shrine on New Year with his mother to thank the gods for letting him have you like this.
He wanted to make you feel more, to know his touch in ways you never had before.
His free hand not ding at your waist trailed down your side, tracing the outline, as he dragged it down to your core. When he met your underwear, the fabric a simple micro fibre, and slipped past it he was certain that he’d need to go to the shrine every holiday. You were wet, drenched even, allowing his fingers to slip through your slick folds easily.
Kageyama was not a virgin, he’d had sex before and he was thorough with it. His thumb met your clot, going over it in slow circles, while his pointer and ring finger started to tease your hole.
When he was able the press both fingers into you and pump them in and out of you, he released your nipple that he had ever so diligently been sucking on to swap for the other one. He bit down it ever so slightly making a shocked gasp and whimper of his name escape you.
“Be gentle jackass!” Your speech airy, escaping as an exhale.
It was cruel the way how you said his name made his dick jerk as if he was going to cum, the muscle in his abdomen flexing tight. He’d be dammed if he came before you though, his teeth grazing over your nipple again, tongue swiping over the bar.
His fingers picked up in speed, pressing against a spot that made you squeak almost. High-pitched and short. Like you hadn’t expected him to hit it.
The pressure building kept building as he did so, making you get lightheaded as it went on. He was so close to making you cum. Like an itch, you scratch just next to it, the edge.
His thumb kept toying with your clit as he kept his pace steady, matching the tempo. You could feel yourself tightening up as he worked your body. The noises in the room turned pornographic as more liquid gushed out of you, lubricating his hand, making it easier for him to thrust his fingers in and out and in again.
Kageyama detached himself from your chest and moved to kiss along the side of your neck and ear.
“You’re so pretty…” he trailed off before biting your neck and sucking hard to leave a hickey.
You came with a start, the orgasm rolling through you as he bit down, his name coming out a broken moan. Your muscle winding right before snapping under the pressure, eyes screwing shut. It made your head spin, feeling your heartbeat in your skull and down to your toes. The force of it made you clamp down so hard on Kageyama’s fingers that as he tried to pull them out, he couldn’t.
A minute passed before he was finally able to slip them out of you as you whined for him to keep them inside. When you finally opened your eyes you were met with Kageyams face being entirely red.
“You okay?” You propped yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him.
He licked his lips before speaking, trying to wet them. “I just came.”
“Oh.”
Things were still for a second.
“Is there, uh, anything I can do to help?”
“No. Just give me a minute.” This was the most embarrassment he had felt in a long time
“Okay.” You cupped his face with one hand. He turned a kissed your palm “We can stop here if you want.”
He contemplated for a few moments in his head, his boxer briefs now feeling sticky. The sensation was grossing him out no matter how badly he wanted to continue.
“Tobio,” you flicked his forehead “Get out of your head, you’ve got that scrunched-up look on your face.”
He grumbled against your palm as he spoke. “I like you and I’m embarrassed.”
“Well, I love you and we can always go for a second round.”
He stilled, humming under his breath. “Could we shower first?”
“Of course.”
───※ ·❆· ※───
Out of the shower, where a second round had happened, along with telling you about the bet, Kageyama felt unsure of what to do next. It reminded him of leaving a court at the end of a game, his adrenaline high and heart pumping. The adjustment to reality was strange and foreign. He was sure this must have been how you felt after a concert ended. Lost, unsure what to do after as he cuddled with you in your bed.
“What happens next?”
You laughed and it shook your body as you lay on top of him, tracing patterns on his chest.
“You buy me breakfast in the morning.”
“And after that?”
“What about after that?”
“Well,” you started. “We keep doing what we’ve always done. But when we go out to eat we don’t call it hanging out, we call it a date. When we sleep at the other’s place, we sleep in the same bed. Only the little things change between us, the big things stay the same and we get to kiss now. When an interviewer asks if you’ve got a girlfriend, you get to say yes.”
“You’re my girlfriend?”
“Well, I thought that was the point of the confession, well along with winning a bet, unless you don't want me to be?”
“No, I do.”
“Good.”
It was silent for a moment as he intertwined his free hand in your own, bringing it closer to his mouth so he could kiss it. You settled further into him, filling out the space where he was the most empty both physically and metaphorically, humming ‘Like Real People Do’.
A Venmo notification cut through the peace.
Nicolas Romero sent you ¥10,000
“Atta boy Tobio”
©️ uzuzrimisery
#uzuri writes#haikyuu#hq#kageyama tobio#kageyama tobio imagine#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu smut#haikyuu imagine smut#smut#haikyuu x reader smut#kageyama#kagayeama x you#kageyama tobio x you#kage
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Imagine writing a novel, including your furry oc’s? Couldn’t be me. 💀 (it’s definitely me, actually.)
#The novel is actually going to have tons of angst and stuff#I am also adding elements that most people don’t add in there novels#Like losing someone who is a bad person but you still miss them because you still feel like they could change for the better#But you will never know because they will never return to see you again.#But I’m not going any farther.#No spoilers >:)#But I am very excited to start getting the first chapters produced#Im still at the chapter outlining phase!#If you want to know more or want to be a beta reader for me#Please let me know in any way you’d like
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I often see people making posts looking for beta readers and getting no responses, and I think I think a big reason for that is just not providing enough information. So here is some advice of things you should mention in your post:
The rating (and maybe why it has that rating)
Any relevant content warnings
The main pairings, relationships, or characters
The (estimated) length! Committing to betaing a 5k work is very different from committing to a 20k one
If you have a deadline you need to work posted by (like if the story is for an event or a holiday, ect.)
What type of help you are looking for. Do you just want a spelling/grammar check, or are you looking for someone to brainstorm with and point out plot holes?
Maybe just a small summary of what the work is about. It doesn't need to be the fleshed out thing you put in ao3, but a short "coffee shop AU" or "season 2 ending fix it" goes a long way in letting a potential beta know what they are signing up for.
I understand the desire to keep your wips a secret till they are posted, but if you can't find a beta, this is probably why. Many times someone would be willing to beta, but doesn't want to offer because they don't know the above and would feel weird backing out after agreeing, so they just don't say anything.
Finally, remember the person on the other side of the screen is a human being. You are not owed help, they are doing you a favor so be polite.
(Please feel free to add more advice!)
#beta request#beta reader#writblr#fanfic writing#guides#writing tips#this is by no means an exhaustive list but SOMEONE had to say something about this#the amount of beta request posts i see that say literally nothing then get MAD when no one responds is crazy#like idk maybe think for a moment about what info you would want to know before agreeing to something#then like write that in your post#this applies to discord requests too!!#Seriously though please add more tips on finding a beta#i don't know everything this is just from my personal experience#because this is tumblr someone is probably going to hate me for this post somehow but whatever#my posts
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’ve been one of sukuna’s many concubines for quite a while now. yet, you still cannot get rid of the jealousy in your system whenever he interacts with the other women in his harem.
wc. idk around 1 to 2k
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst (hurt to comfort), fluff, suggestive at the end. heian era. you call sukuna ‘my lord’. reader gets called ‘brat, little girl’. size difference. no part2, don’t ask i beg. not beta read.
“get back here, brat,” sukuna raises his voice as he follows you. he isn’t one to care about others’ emotional outbursts, yet here he is, chasing you after you’ve poured out your heart to him.
you don’t know why you’re this upset. you do know, however, that it’s childish of you to walk away mid dinner. you should’ve just stayed seated and refuse to let the thoughts consume you.
now you’re speed walking down the hallways of the estate—your legs carrying you as fast as they can without actually making a run for it. your mind keeps replaying the ‘unsettling’ scene that caused you to flee.
you remember it vividly. the sound of sukuna’s low, amused chuckle. how intrigued it was because of something another concubine told him—how he stopped chewing to say something back to her. which he rarely does.
hell, you’ve never seen him laugh around his other concubines.
“i do not wish to talk to you right now, my lord,” you reply, voice raised so the distance wouldn’t make it a hassle for the king of curses to hear you. you know that feisty attitude of yours entertains sukuna to no end.
he raises an eyebrow once he’s heard your voice; how it’s dripping with envy and hurt. you’ve never reacted like that before—at least not in his presence. it made him want to figure out why and how.
though, he can easily guess the reasoning behind your sudden defiance.
“oh, that so?” sukuna hums. he’s lenient with you this time around. he could catch up to you in under a split second, but he decides to give you that sense of accomplishment first before completely destroying it. he walks after you slowly, your fast steps being the same tempo as his slow pace.
you don’t answer. you’re stubborn. you have no right to feel jealous. you are a fairly new concubine—only a couple months ago did you join sukuna’s harem. yet, the time spent with him was precious.
he treats you differently. everyone notices that. everyone tells you the same. you know he does by the way he lets you off the hook with most stuff you say and do.
you don’t know what you did to gain his favouritsm, but it’s addicting. his attention is addictive. real addictive.
you had sworn not to develop any unneccessary feelings for that ruthless sorcerer. but, with the way sukuna treated you so gently behind closed doors, it was impossible not to.
you eventually reach the doors to your chambers. you slide them open and wish to close them behind you, only for a big hand to halt those movements. you freeze in place and refuse to look up at the owner of that said hand.
“look up,” sukuna demands. his voice causes goosebumps to appear on your arms, but you still don't budge. he clicks his tongue. that’s your first warning. two more and your punishment will be carried out, “we can do this the hard way too if you want.”
you turn your head, your fingers curling around the material of your kimono. you really should not feel this way about a little interaction between sukuna and his other concubine. that is none of your concern. what he does with those other women is none of your concern.
and yet. . .
“i don't want to,” you retort. sukuna walks into your room with a sigh. each step he takes forwards, you take backwards. your back finally bumps against the wall next to your bed.
sukuna towers over you, his tall and big frame making you feel vulnerable. especially with the way those red eyes of his are staring down at you. he crosses all four of his arms before speaking.
“tell me what’s running through that head of yours,” sukuna inquires sternly. he isn’t playing around anymore, you can tell. you glance the other way—knowing that he will laugh at you the moment you tell him why you’re upset.
you have a feeling he knows the reason behind your tantrum anyway.
“it’s nothing of importance, my lord,” you shake your head and relax your tense shoulders to make you seem less upset. your words have some truth in them—you don’t think your feelings of envy hold any value to him.
sukuna sighs again. he’s trying his best not to be annoyed at you. you’re his favorite and he wishes not to sadden you any further. he steps forwards, one hand moving to cup the side of your face.
his rough fingers play with a string of your hair, “i’m not stupid, little girl. i don’t like it when my woman is in distress.”
your heart skips a beat. this is what confuses you—how he can go from stern to gentle and vice versa. it’s surprisingly unexpected, which makes you long for more. even if his behaviour is confusing.
you look up at sukuna. your eyes meet for the first time in a good couple minutes. the corner of sukuna’s lips curls up into a satisfied smirk. that’s one step closer to getting you to open up.
“now,” the king of curses lowers his head to your eye level, the proximity all the more nerve wracking. he holds your jaw super tightly out of the blue. it makes you whimper.
“spit it out.”
there it is. the duality of the man strikes once more. you swallow the spit that’s been building up in your mouth. you bite your bottom lip lightly, trying to gather and form the right words to explain yourself.
sukuna wouldn’t understand. he’s a cold-hearted man who doesn’t care about such ‘trivial’ matters. he’ll just call you stupid, pathetic or whatever other derogatory term.
you stop your thoughts for a moment.
“it’s really just a stupid thing,” you mutter. your fingers curl around sukuna’s wrist—the one hand he’s using to firmly hold your jaw. you take a deep breath in, “i did not like it when you, errr. . . when that woman talked to you at the dinner table.”
your voice is clearly dripping with jealousy. pure, pure jealousy. and for what? because he talked to his other concubine. you feel stupid. you thought you discarded your personal feelings for the sorcerer before you the moment you turned into one of his many women.
“that woman?” sukuna tilts his head, feigning ignorance. that little grin on his face tells you enough. he’s playing with you like some form of entertainment. well, technically you are.
he wants you to be specific. he’s forcing you to be by acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.
in all honesty, sukuna’s already forgotten what that woman had said to him. it wasn’t and still isn’t worth remembering. all he can recall is your adorable facial expression when you saw him interact like that with his other concubine.
that little frown on your face was priceless. it makes him want to keep teasing you.
“you know who i am talking about, my lord,” you huff, trying to look away, but get stopped by sukuna readjusting his grip on your jaw. he firmly yet gently taps your cheek once and you know what it means.
“attitude,” sukuna warns with a quick hiss. he can let you say whatever you want to him, but you also have some limits regarding which tone you use with him. you apologise quietly under your breath.
the king of curses nods in satisfaction before releasing the grip on your jaw. his large hand trails down to your neck, thumb rubbing up and down your throat, “so, my little girl is mad at me because i talked to another concubine of mine, huh?”
you nod mindlessly. sukuna can easily get you to comply with him—to obey his every word, simply with his actions. the terms of endearment he uses are the cherry on top. they slip off his tongue so easily with you.
“tsk tsk,” sukuna shakes his head. his hand is now on the back of your head, fingers tangled into your hair. he’s staring down at you with a smug expression. he knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger, “how childish of you.”
you knew that would be one of the things he’d say to you. what you didn’t expect is for him to go for a kiss right after. his lips land on yours firmly, and to no surprise, you instantly return the gesture.
your arms wrap around his neck—your chest pressing against his. sukuna wastes no time in picking you up and letting your legs encircle his waist. he’s not pulling away for air to breathe and you don’t either.
“you’re going to listen to me, yeah?” sukuna murmurs between passionate kisses. he’s holding onto you tightly with two arms, his free hands roaming over your body whilst he pins you against the wall.
when you whimper out a weak, high-pitched ‘yes, my lord’, he smirks against your mouth before turning to kiss your neck. he slightly bites the skin to make sure you’re paying attention to him.
“i don’t remember what that woman said,” sukuna continues, nearly out of breath because of the kisses he’s leaving all over you. he easily grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head on the wall, “i was too busy lookin’ at a much prettier concubine of mine.”
he pulls back a little so he can look you in the eyes. you’re panting and embarrassed by what he just said. one of his hands finds your face again, tracing the shape of your mouth.
“my favourite,” sukuna whispers whilst licking his lips. you can see it in his eyes: he’s silently planning out how he’s going to remind you of your place. your place as his favorite concubine.
he dips his head back down, aiming for the valley between your breasts. he closes his eyes before sucking on the surrounding flesh;
“guess i’ll be nice for once ‘nd show you just what it means to be my favorite so that you’ll never dare forget it again.”
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Why isn't Bucky waking me up to have his way with me?
I wish I had the answer, nonnie!
Slip Inside
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky can't resist having you when he comes home.
Word Count: Over 1.5k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, somnophilia (at first), established relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), lovesick and needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I can't send Bucky, but here you lovelies go! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Bucky wasn't meant to be home until tomorrow. He almost called to let you know he’d be back a day early, but it was late and he didn't want to disturb your slumber. Imagining the happy look in your eyes when you woke up beside him brought a smile to his face. Being loved by you was something he still couldn't believe was real some days, but he knew in the depths of his soul that you would always be his girl.
“Welcome home,” he whispered to himself when he saw you in bed, a sight for sore eyes.
He kept his gaze on you as he undressed, careful not to make any noise. You had an arm draped over the pillow next to you, the one he usually rested his head on. His heart raced as he took a step closer and gently pulled the blanket away, your body barely covered by the shirt he recently bought for you. Shivering slightly, you tried to curl in on yourself, but stilled quickly.
Like you knew he was watching you.
“I love you,” he breathed into the room.
You replied with a moan and rubbed your hand against the pillow.
You were beautiful when you slept. If you asked him, you were gorgeous all the time. A breathless kind of vision that he grew to appreciate more and more each day. But you weren't like a piece of art for him to just admire. You were the type of beauty meant to be appreciated.
And he gladly did so with his hands, mouth, and cock.
Oh, he loved you. Fuck, he needed you, too. It was an ache. A hunger. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter as long as he had you. And you were understanding enough to let him take what he needed.
“Mine,” he whispered.
Bucky quickly took the opportunity to slip into the bed and spoon you from behind. Your steady breathing grounded him in a sense while awakening the beast he kept at bay. The one that wanted to come out and play. One that needed to bury himself deep and keep you full.
If you were awake, he would've turned your head to kiss you nice and slow, unrushed even with the mounting desperation. Instead he rubbed his nose and scruffy chin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing in the distinctly sweet scent of you while wanting to leave his claim. That no one else could touch or have you. That you were his.
“You're mine,” he growled lowly.
Rubbing the inside of your thigh once he pushed your shirt up enough, he heard your breathing hitch. He wasn't ready for you to wake up just yet, but it didn't keep him moving his hand higher and grasping the elastic of your underwear. He debated tearing the offending fabric off, but he couldn't fault you for wearing them.
You didn't know he'd come home tonight.
He also thought about touching you through your panties to feel you squirm under his touch. Your whines and whimpers always made his cock twitch, especially when you soaked the fabric. Sometimes he liked to shove them in your mouth so you could taste yourself and know he was the one who did that to you.
Only him.
He brushed his lips along your skin as he pulled it down, almost wishing he was in front of you so he could look down and see your exposed pussy. “Mine,” he whispered again as his fingers parted your folds and skimmed over your clit.
You moved back against him with a sigh, enticing him without even trying. Alternating between teasing the bundle of nerves and your slit, he felt his own breathing get heavier and harsh with each passing second. By the time he brought his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices away, his cock was hard and heavy with the need to sink into your dripping cunt. He grunted as your flavor exploded on his tongue. He was done with foreplay.
And with how you panted and writhed, you were ready for him.
He hooked your leg over his thick thigh to open you up, hoping it wouldn't hurt when you stretched around him. “I love you,” he said once more as he brushed the tip of his cock against your hole, sighing as he slowly filled you up.
He had to close his eyes and hide his face in your neck to keep from losing it. He could go for hours when he wanted to, but the feel of your warm wetness gripping him like a vice was almost too much. Finishing quickly or not didn't matter. You’d take it as a compliment if your sweet cunt made him empty himself inside you so fast.
But he had to make it last and make you come first.
With a deep breath, he got himself under control. You let out the sweetest whine when he almost pulled out completely and shoved himself back in. Curled around you, all you could do was take his deep thrusts. He could've breathed through his nose and tried to stay quiet. He could’ve gone slow and steady. But he moaned and nipped at your skin, not wanting to hide his desire for you.
He couldn't see your face, but he felt you roll your hips back as you began to stir and heard another whine escape. You weren't completely awake, but your body craved what he was doing to you. It was enough for him to roll you on your stomach and quicken his pace.
“Bucky?” You mumbled.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't resist. Your pussy’s too good,” he groaned, putting a hand to the back of your neck to hold you still. “I need you. Need to feel you come on my cock.”
You fluttered around him as he stretched over your back, forcing you to take every inch of him. Your body went pliant as you let out a tired and needy moan. If you wanted him to stop, you would’ve told him to do so. “Please,” you whined as he practically rutted into you.
“I got you,” he grunted, driving harder into you as your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Missed you. Missed you so fucking much. Might need to keep my cock in you all night.”
You trembled, both of you knowing you’d lay there and let him fuck you all night if he asked. You were so good for him. And greedy. It would be wrong of him not to give you what you longed for.
“And you'll let me fill you up, won't you? Of course, you will,” he panted against your ear. You tried to arch your back, but his massive frame overpowered you. “It’s okay. Just take it. Let me have you.”
Fucking you raw was a gift he’d selfishly continue to ask for and take. But how could he not? You always let out the prettiest sounds when he flooded your holes.
He couldn't stop himself from shoving his hand between the mattress and your body, seeking out your clit to tip you over the edge. Moans poured from you as he lightly pinched it, giving you the push you needed. “That’s it. Come on my cock. My cock. My good girl,” he encouraged as you clamped around him hard enough for him to lose his breath.
You nearly cried as he took you apart. “Bu… Bucky…”
“Trembling around my cock. Greedy girl,” he moaned, his hips snapping faster as he brought his mouth back to your ear. “My turn.”
He let out a deep groan as he stilled, filling you. His release hit him so hard his head spun, muttering his love for and possession of you as his eyes fluttered. You let out a broken moan as you clenched around him again and he had to keep from collapsing against you, both of you fighting for air.
“Love you,” he mumbled, wanting you to hear it now that you were awake.
He only pulled out so he could move you to your back and desperately kiss your lips the way he needed to, pushing himself back inside your leaking hole with a hum. Your eyes were half-lidded when he broke the kiss. Your gaze made him want to ruin you all over again.
“Love you, too,” you croaked, your back bowing when he groped your breast through the shirt. “Welcome home.”
Bucky’s heart pounded as he leaned down to kiss you again. It was a dance of tongue and teeth, dizzying and passionate. Some days you were the fire and others you were the fuel. You accepted the entirety of him and he welcomed everything you selflessly gave him in return.
“Good to be home, baby,” he smirked, brushing his thumb along your covered nipple. “Now stay awake. I need to fill you up at least two more times before the sun comes up.”
Even after that, he wasn't close to being done with you. But he was whole because he was home with you. And that would always be enough.
We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes smut#bucky fic#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes x reader#james bucky barnes x reader#james barnes x reader#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x female reader#sebastian stan
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