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#SANS HOW THE FUCK DID YOU BURN THE WATER

akiemuletter-archive · 28 days

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WHY IS MY WATER BURNT???

Uh PSD. Idk just please credit to use by tagging or linking back to this post:3 Ty ty download in source

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ask-healingsunny · 7 months

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Mari I burnt the water-

"... How does that even happen..?"

#sans how the FUCK did you burn the water #omori ask blog #ask healing sunny #omori mari #mari omori

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trousle-ink · 11 months

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"Uhh hey Trousle? I burnt the water."

"Bob how the fuck did you burn the water-"

#wtf #acnh #animal crossing #animal crossing new horizons #i burnt the water #sans how the fuck did you burn the water #bob #bob animal crossing

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holybibly · 5 months

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IT'S YOU |Woosan x reader| Part I Part 2

Genre: smut, from friends to lovers!au, college!au

Word Count: 6,6k

Summary: Sometimes drunken decisions lead to the most unexpected results and the most shocking confessions. Or, after your boyfriend cheats on you, you propose a threesome to your best friends and it might just be what they have always wanted.

WARNING: only!18+ pet names, explicit sexual content, explicit language, unprotected sex, pussy eating, size kink, oral giving and receiving, double penetration, threesomes, dirty talk and more.

A/N: Here they are, our winners. I'm a little overjoyed because I'm about to try out a new style for myself (BTW, which of my styles of my work do you love most? Answer in the comments, it will help me much). One of the things I have to learn is the writing of shorter chapters. This one was so long that I had to split it into two parts. The second part won't take too long either.I'm still trying my best to write smut. So please be gentle with me.

There will be an update in a separate post about the rest of the work. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

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One year ago.

It was a feeling of sweet euphoria coursing through your veins. Pure, scalding ecstasy that frothed your blood and clouded your mind. Multicolored neon lights licked greedily at your wet, naked skin, leaving acid green and poisonous pink burns on it. All your senses were overloaded, and every touch felt like a liquid flame. The throbbing bass of the deafening music echoed through your body like the beating of your own heart and completely consumed all of your other senses, except for absolute pleasure.

You lost track of the amount of alcohol you had consumed that day, shot after shot, until a pleasant fog began to form in your head, blocking out all other thoughts. The tequila flowed down your throat like water, and you were sure you'd remember how it tasted in the morning, but you didn't care what you'd done tonight or how you knew you'd feel tomorrow. You didn't care about that. Your aim was to forget yourself, to disappear into the crowd, to merge with the music until any connection to the outside world was nothing more than the beginning of the next day.

Dance, baby, dance!

The atmosphere in the club grew fuzzier and fainter, sweaty, hot bodies pressed closer together merging, the hot touches of forbidden pleasures caressing the skin with the fingertips of strangers, wet lips touching the bare, sticky skin on you shoulders, pressing rough impatient kisses into it. Too many people and too many strangers are here for nothing but fuck.

You weren't a stupid little girl who believed in virginal marriage and pink ponies; to be honest, you were far from that gentle picture. God, Wooyoung, and San had been your best friends since high school, and now you were at university, and if after all that time you couldn't repeat every position in the Kama Sutra by heart, it really surprised you. Innocence and modesty were the last words in your vocabulary, and with Wooyoung's big mouth, you were well aware of the whole of theirs sex life. And when you say everything, you mean every fucking detail, and to Wooyoung's credit, he has a great memory and meticulous storytelling.

How long has it been since you started dancing? 20 minutes—or was it two hours? You could swear that Sang and Ueyoung were at your side a minute ago. Or did they leave you alone on the dance floor hours ago?

You can't remember at all.

Your mind is buzzing, your fingertips are tingling, and your heart is pounding against your ribs from the adrenaline rush of matching the beat of some new-fangled track and creating a world of your own inside your body. This sound will vibrate more and more strongly under your skin until your brain ceases to function, allowing you to let go of all the worries in the world and give yourself over completely to the music. Alcohol really does work wonders.

Man, you felt so good.

In the back of your drunken mind, you can't help but wonder if tonight could have gone differently. Probably, but here you are, drunk as hell, huddled with a stranger on a neon dance floor instead of a soft bed in your favorite man's arms. Where the hell did you take the wrong turn? It would seem that something in the universe hasn't gone quite according to plan. Did you have any idea this morning that your sweet, perfect boyfriend would be cheating on you? Correction: he's been cheating on you for a long time. You probably never would have found out if you hadn't come home from couples earlier than usual and continued to be his "convenient girlfriend." Hell, it wasn't nice, and maybe not as hurtful, if he'd been fucking someone else instead of your best friend. Were you that bad? Weren't you good enough? Either way, you've still got time to destroy yourself—maybe tomorrow, maybe never.

Maybe you'll even think about it when you visit the bastard in the hospital. He should have known better than to even think about cheating, and the clotted blood on San's knuckles proved that. Everyone at the university knew that you were Ateez's golden girl, and to mess with you was to mess with them. And since you, Wooyoung, and San were literally glued to each other, it was tantamount to suicide.

At the moment, the only thing that was more upsetting than the image of your ex-boyfriend driving his dick all the way up to his balls into your ex-friend's skinny body was the fact that your beautiful vintage sofa would have to be thrown away. Semen doesn't wash off. You checked.

Hongjoong is going to be absolutely devastated. That sofa was the absolute love of his life.

It's all nothing more than a vague memory of the day gone by, mixed into an indecipherable cacophony of shrill screams and blurred images. To be honest, you don't remember much of the chaos, as Wooyoung pressed your face against his chest with such force that you wouldn't be surprised to see your make-up imprinted on the light fabric of his shirt. All you could hear was loud cursing and the sound of a punch in the face. You hoped that San's punch was strong enough to break the asshole's jaw. And after that, there were a few hours of tears and emotional crisis until they'd had enough and pulled you into this club with a gentle and accepting hand: "Come on, baby, you could use a break and a change of scenery" from San, and "Fuck that scumbag, go show him what he's lost, baby" from Wooyoung. It was an absolute mystery how the two of them synchronized perfectly.

You have no idea what you would do without these two.

A few more minutes go by in this way, until you feel hot hands on your hips, pulling you closer to the hard body on your back. You don't have to turn around to see that it's San; the scent of his perfume, mixed with the sweat and the smoke of a freshly smoked cigarette, makes you dizzy, and you rest your head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath of the intoxicating mixture. Suddenly you want to get as close to him as possible, turn around and press your face against his hard, structured chest, breathing in deeply and sinking into him completely. Your arms reach out behind you and wrap around San's neck, tangling your fingers in the scarlet strands of hair at the nape of his neck. You feel it on your back as the action makes him purr like a cat. You wonder what other sounds you might be able to catch him making.

You shake yourself. The thought of it sends shivers down your arms and makes all the muscles in your lower abdomen tingle.

You should stop. These are bad thoughts. Very bad thoughts.

"Damn, baby girl, how much did you drink while we were away?" Wooyoung's voice is rough and husky, but his touch is gentle and careful as his fingers intertwine with yours. He has always touched you in a way that no other man in the world, with the exception of him and San, has ever been able to touch you. There was no comparison with your ex's touch. Wooyoung's touch is a promise. A promise to protect, to care, and perhaps to love? You could swear you saved the planet in your past life because you have such great friends in this one, or maybe a little more than friends, but you're not sure what to call this feeling.

You had been friends for so long that it wasn't weird not have a crush on Wooyoung or to dream of being married to San. The guy was literally a walking husband; he was second only to Songhwa in that respect, but please, Hwa was the epitome of husband material. You might even have wanted to be in the middle of it, sandwiched between hot bodies while they literally fucked the life out of you. But it was all just thoughts. Fleeting dreams that clung to the edges of your consciousness. You were the type to date, and they were the type to fuck. You were different when it came to loving. In any case, it was all a long time ago. You had a boyfriend, and Wooyoung and San collected girls like Pokémon. Somehow, you were sure that if you slept together, your friendship would end.

You weren't ready for that. With a strength that only Jongho could match, you ignored any romantic feelings for them

"Mmm… Woo, I have no recollection, but I had fun." You licked your lips as if you were trying to taste the lingering taste of the tequila and opened your eyes to stare straight into Wooyoung's face, full of worry. He could have been the biggest bitch if he wanted to be. But for you, that 'maternal' instinct of overprotection has kicked in. You stare at him unblinkingly in that moody light, he looks beautiful, to the point of being stupidly handsome, so damn handsome that you want to pull him to you and kiss him without explanation or reason. And you can do that because you know he's never, ever going to say no to you but kiss you? Wooyoung's tongue will be the first to enter your mouth. He will suck on it like a drunk, and he will hold on to you until there is almost no air left in your lungs.

"We leave you alone, gongjunim, for five minutes, and you're already in trouble. Shall I give you a lesson in obedience?" San is speaking into your ear, loud enough for you to hear him clearly, each word coming through the loud electric bass. His voice is too sultry to be sober enough. Woo probably talked him into a few shots, although he always got drunk pretty easily. The two were threatening each other. And to you as well.

The evil voice inside your head grinned: You know you want it. He's going to punish you for being such a bad, naughty girl. He will teach you to be the best little girl for him and for them and to follow all his rules. He'll make you beg and make you cry…

Fuck, girl, come to your senses. Since when did you start to think with your pussy instead of using your brain? Or do you automatically turn into a horny, over-excited idiot after a break-up? Turn on your brains; they are your best friends.

Completely ignoring San's words, you whimpered:

"I'm thirsty." Your tongue is dry in your mouth, and your lips feel unpleasantly rough as you say the words. It looks like the fun's over for today.

San can't help but laugh at your capricious behavior, and you wriggle restlessly in his arms, trying to free yourself from his firm grip, but he only manages to hold you even tighter. You sigh in annoyance and decide to try your luck with Wooyoung.

"Woo, help me." You whine again, reaching out and pulling Wooyoung closer so that your forehead rests against his collarbone.

He smells good, like sandalwood and vanilla, like home.

Wooyoung lifts your face with his fingertips. The touch is soft and comforting, despite the roar of the music and the crowd of strangers around you. He stares intently into your eyes, almost too serious for your drunken haze. He hopes to find something more than alcohol-induced excitement.

"Come on, baby. It's time to go home." He releases your hand and carefully wipes the sweat from your forehead and cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, his fingers lingering on your lips for a moment, and you playfully stick out your tongue and lick the pads of his fingers. God, may you not remember this tomorrow.

"But I don't want to…" You purse your lips again. You turn your head towards San, looking for his support. "Sanni, let's stay a bit more." Your big, shining eyes are not making it easy for him, but you were already quite drunk, and judging by the way your body was leaning against him, you could hardly stand properly.

"Wooyoung's right, gongjunim, it's over for you today."

Something wild in you just wants to be a brat and start arguing, but the rational part of your brain wins out. You sigh tiredly and try to wriggle out of his grip, and of course you stumble, grabbing Wooyoung's biceps with your hands in an attempt to stay on your feet and not break your high-heeled leg, which would be a great way to end the night.

A strong arm immediately wraps around your waist. It digs lightly into the exposed skin between your top and your jeans. You can feel the coldness of the thin band of his ring. It actually burns from how sensitive you were now.

"I got you, chagi." San whispers softly and hoarsely into your ear, and you cling even more tightly to Wooyoung's arm as your legs begins to shake, but no longer from the alcohol you've drunk and the tiredness, but from his sultry tone. Damn, was that a saturi, or was it just your imagination?

"We'll be on our way now, for sure." Wooyoung takes your hand once more, pulling it away from his bicep, and quickly leads you through the crowd of sweaty bodies, completely ignoring your feeble protests until you see the flashing exit sign. The red neon sign brings you ominously close to the point where you are left alone with them. And you feel San's heavy presence at your back like never before.

The sounds of the city swallow you up and make you dizzy as Wooyoung opens the heavy metal door. Couples are kissing all over the place. Noisy groups of people are huddled together waiting for a taxi or sharing a single joint, leaving a faint smell of weed in the air. You can still hear the vibrating bass of the music that is pouring out of the club; it echoes in your head in an unpleasant way, with a slight throbbing pain. All of a sudden, all you want to do is find yourself in a warm bed, snuggled up against San or Wooyoung, or even better, against both of them.

San's hand on your waist tenses as you bend over to hail a taxi. Wooyoung's hands come down on your hips, hot and strong, and just like that, you find yourself sandwiched between them, their bodies shielding you safely from the searing cold and dirty stares. You could swear that you can hear Wooyoung swears to himself while a drunk guy is moving his tongue between two spread fingers and looking in your direction. San's body tenses instinctively. What's with all this protection? We're not in some kind of alpha-character romance; you can take care of yourself.

But in spite of that, your body still relaxes, your head leans back against Wooyoung's shoulder, and you rub your face against his like a cat.

"You're so drunk, baby." Woo chuckles and gives you a light kiss on the top of your head. "That's my girl."

My girl, just the sound of that one sentence makes a little fire start in your belly. What the hell is wrong with you today? A week ago, you were rinsing his mouth after Woo drank too much, and now you're ready to lick his mouth from the inside.

Fuck.

All these thoughts make you lose track of what's happening until you feel the smooth leather of the car seat beneath you and the soft touch of San's lips on your bare shoulder. You moan, either from annoyance or excitement. San just smiles and presses his lips harder against you. Finally, you are going home.

You faintly hear Wooyoung giving the Uber driver the coordinates of your apartment complex, your hands intertwining again, relaxing further as Wooyoung's head rests on your shoulder. His long hair tickles the back of your neck.

Sobriety slowly begins to clear your head as the ride continues. You're still drunk, but you're much more aware than before.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, but in the confined space of the car's backseat, they can hear it well. It sets them in motion again, hands clasped around you with renewed confidence. You play mindlessly with the silver rings that adorn Wooyoung's long fingers, and you don't go unnoticed by San's light strokes on the outside of your thigh.

"All for you, chagiya." San whispers back and gives Wooyoung a meaningful look. There's something special between the two of them—a dialogue that is spoken without words but in which they both know exactly what is meant. If only you knew what was going on inside their heads…

You let your hand drop to Wooyoung's muscular thigh and ran the palm of your hand over it a couple of times, feeling the tight muscles under the skin of his trousers. He covers the palm of your hand with his own and squeezes it in a silent, gentle gesture of affection.

"I love you guys…" You whisper, sticking out your tongue to lick your suddenly dry lips. You hear them giggling together before you feel San press his nose against the soft skin of your collarbone, rubbing against it like a cat. He's the ultimate cinnamon bun; how he can be someone who's had sex with half the university is still a mystery to you.

"I love you too, gongjunim." And he means it, like he really loves you—much more than a friend should.

"Mmm, I love you more. You know that, baby." Wooyoung bites the skin on the back of your neck in a playful way, and you feel his wet tongue pressing against the site of the bite for a few seconds.

"You're not sleeping in my bed. Woo, stop it; that tactic won't work on me anymore."

He whimpers back with a puff of his swollen lips, turning his face away from you with an irritated roll of his eyes as you and San laugh, his arms naturally wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body so that you're practically sitting on his lap. A faint melody, from some kind of soft track, pours out of the speakers and lulls you into a state of serenity. You find it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. Your body relaxes even more in San's arms.

The next twenty minutes fly by, and you only begin to wake up when the cab door slams behind you and Wooyoung drags you into her flat. The fobs on your keys jingle loudly in the silence of the corridor as San fiddles with them to unlock the door. You sway in Woo's arms as you wait for the door to your apartment to open. The soothing scent of neroli and orchids greets you as you enter, your body automatically relaxing into the safety of your personal space, and you fall wearily into the armchair opposite sofa.

As the door closes, you hear the sound of the boys hurrying down the corridor, taking off their shoes and jackets. You can imagine San carefully placing his shoes next to yours and Wooyoung's one shoe being kicked further down the corridor. So damn different.

Woo sprints into the kitchen, slams the door of the fridge shut, and there is a bottle of cold water in front of your face.

"Here you go, starlight." He sinks to the floor at your feet and leans back against them, resting his head in your lap as he does so. You run your fingers through his long black hair, brushing it away from his face, and meet his gaze with your own. It's familiar; away from the deafening music and the sweaty crowd, you feel much better now, despite the fact that a few hours ago your ex was fucking your friend on the couch across the hall. This is still your home, and you're sure that in a few days your entire apartment will be taken apart and put back together by the caring hands of Seonghwa and Yeosang, when there won't be a trace of your failed past relationships left. "Are you okay?" San asks, leaning against the doorjamb.

"I'm… fine, yeah. Probably not as good as I'd like to be, but I'll be fine; it'll just take some time. At the moment, I'm just tired of it all."

"Go take a shower, sweetie; San and I will take care of the rest." Wooyoung says as he gets up from the floor and pulls the leather jacket off of his shoulders. The wide collar of his black t-shirt shows the tattoo on his back. You always found that part of him extremely sexy.

You rise from your chair, grimacing at the pain in your legs after so many hours in high heels. Your top falls to the floor as you take it off, the lace of your black lingerie clinging to your body like a second skin. They've seen you naked more than once or twice, and in any case, you're not one of those cute girls who blushes at every opportunity. You have to struggle to pull your jeans down your legs because they are so tight around your arse. The next thing to come off is your underwear, which you leaves halfway to the toilet somewhere. You let them take care of that too.

The level of intimacy that you have with San and Wooyoung is so high that it virtually erases any barrier to acceptable standards of friendship. Years of shared memories, from when you started high school to when you practically star graduates of Seoul National University. God, the things you've done and the situations you've been in—it's been a hectic time. The three of you literally know each other to your bones—sharing habits, feelings, clothes, and even some sexual practices under the influence of alcohol and chance. You've seen them fuck; they've held your hair when you've puked, helped with periods, you've seen them jerking off in the morning or heard them moaning loudly in the bathroom, you all watched porn together—it's all been part of your friendship. In a way, the three of you have been completely and utterly shameless.

You close the bathroom door and stare wearily at your reflection in the large mirror. Your hair is disheveled from those beautiful waves there's not a trace, your skin is glistening with sweat, your make-up looks messy—a bit of smudged eyeliner, smeared lipstick—and in general, you look like you've been beaten up. The pupils of your eyes are dilated, even though you're still feeling sleepy, and there's a bit of puffiness under your eyes from previous tantrum.

Wow, you look like a real mess. You turn away from the mirror, turn on the tap of water, and sink back into your usual daily routine. The water cleanses not only your body but also your mind, spectacularly washing away all the memories and regrets of the day.

It seems to be at least a minute before you hear the sound of a heavy knock on the door. San's voice is muffled over the sound of water and steam, rough, husky, and incredibly sexy, sending electric shocks through your body and unexpected heat building between your thighs. Your fingers turn the handle, stopping the water from flowing, and you take a few long breaths, trying to get rid of this strange feeling. What's wrong with you today?

"Chagi, are you okay?"

You mooed in response, stepped out of the shower, and wrapped the towel around your body before opening the door to face him. He's standing across the bathtub, slumped against the wall, so soft and fluffy, when you open the door. San has changed into a pair of loose pajamas, which are very cute, according to your taste. He has washed off his make-up and generally looks more like an adorable bun than the voluptuous demon he is supposed to be at the university.

"What the hell took you so long? Wooyoung's already starting to climb the wall from here." He whimpers with a pucker on his lips.

"I needed some time to myself, Sanni."

He bites his bottom lip before nodding. His burning gaze travels over you from head to toe, lingering a little longer than usual on your thighs and breasts, and your body heats up at the sensation. When your eyes meet, there is an emotion that you are unfamiliar with that hovers just above the surface of his gleaming dark irises. Something predatory flashes across his face, just for a second, but it's enough to make your skin tingle with an unknown sense of anticipation.

"Just a few more minutes, and then I'll be on my way, all right? Tell Wooyoung to be a little more patient."

"Alright."

You step back into the tub, close the door behind you, and press your back against the wall. You bite your lips, trying to hold back a groan of disappointment. It's not that after all these years of friendship you've never felt sexually aroused in their presence; after all, Wooyoung and San were so damn attractive and even flirtatious to the point of insanity, they fit the cliché of lusty, popular boys at university so well.

Perhaps you had once or twice wondered what it would be like to be close to one of them, or even better, both of them—what their bodies would feel like and what their tastes would be like. Yet, consciously ignoring any romantic urges in their direction, you buried those thoughts deep in the back of your mind. You didn't want to think about how beautiful San's smile was, with those sweet dimples, or how your skin burned under Woo's playful, incessant kisses. But those were only fragmentary thoughts, a dangerous feeling creeping into your heart.

For a while your hunger for them was satisfied by a succession of boy toys until you found yourself a steady boyfriend, well until you caught him with one of your girlfriends tonight. Either way, the sex was hardly satisfying enough to get too upset about, but still, the ache in your heart and your bottom-punched self-esteem stung like a bitch.

But today there was something different between the three of you; on a day like any other, there was a different feeling. It wasn't anything special; San's tearful face had been tucked between your breasts more than once or twice after another romantic fiasco, and Wooyoung had been a complete fool in love, getting burned so many times because he wore his heart on his sleeve. You have been friends long enough to know how to comfort each other after breaking up. You have never experienced such a tension between the three of you before.

There was a barely perceptible change in the air; there was an electric tension in the chemistry between you; a crackle in the air like a thunderstorm was about to break. The storm was coming at a furious pace, and you weren't sure if you were going to be able to handle it. To end up between them was like voluntarily stepping into a hurricane rated at twelve. Was that what you wanted? You probably did. Did they want it? There was no way of knowing. Would things have changed if you'd fucked, yes, of course, but would you have had a 'happily ever after', you weren't so sure.

You brush your hair with your fingertips, hissing in pain when you can't untangle the tangled locks, and continue this compulsive action as you step out of the suddenly claustrophobic space of the bathroom. The corridor is cold, and the change in temperature causes goose bumps to run down the length of your skin. Cold air climbs under the towel's edges, clinging uncomfortably to your tender inner thighs.

"I left some fresh clothes for you on the dresser next to the bathtub. Didn't you notice?" San asks. His pronunciation is as simple as if he hadn't been the one who just a few minutes ago ate you alive with his eyes. He is sitting on the arm of the chair Wooyoung is comfortably ensconced in, mindlessly scrolling through social media.

The couch, which was once your favorite place to be, is clearly in disuse. You're already anticipating Hongjoong's endless complaints about it. That couch was the love of his life.

Wooyoung has changed his clothes too; there's no trace of the seductive college hottie left; the stretchy top of the oversized shirt slipping off his shoulders to expose his collarbones made him look so tiny and cuddly; and the soft disheveled hair falling over his face gave his features something adorably puppyish. They both looked homely and terribly comfortable, as if this was legitimately their home and not yours, as if their place had always been here, the space they belonged to.

"It's stuffy. I don't want to get dressed." You reply, pulling the towel tighter around your chest. You actually contradict yourself by wrapping your arms around yourself, but you don't want to explain anything to them either.

"Personally, I like it all; you can keep going, baby."

"Of course you like it, Woo; we all know about your love for exhibitionism." You say this nonchalantly and let your body fall into Wooyoung's lap, not caring that you're actually naked under the towel or that his shirt is getting wet as the water from your wet hair drips onto it. You're trapped between their bodies again, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't like the feeling. You savor his scent and the feel of his smooth skin as your face sinks into the curve of Woo's neck.

You all sink into a nice, relaxing silence as the boys scroll through endless social media feeds, your eyes grow heavier, and the need for sleep becomes more palpable. But you love it so much—just being around them, not thinking about anything else, feeling the way San's fingers play with your hair while you twirl the rings on Woo's fingers—that you probably have a fetish for his hands. Anyway, you don't mind.

Minutes go by like this, slowly approaching an hour. You feel content and warm as you sit on Wooyoung's gorgeous muscular thighs. He is humming something to himself, drawing scattered patterns with his fingertips on your bare thigh. Your lips press against Woo's neck, leaving a sweet kiss on his skin. He squirms beneath you, his fingers clenching tighter and tighter on your thigh. God, he's so hot.

"You're so needy, kitten," San says with laughter before you feel his lips on your shoulder. It's not a chaste, friendly kiss; no, his lips are wet with saliva, open so you can feel the scorching breath and his tongue tip gliding across your skin in slow motion. San is licking you like a cat, damn it.

"Is this a side effect of the break-up or something like that? Look at you, Peach. You're a horny mess." Wooyoung raises an eyebrow in curiosity and pulls you closer to his chest. You slide down his thighs, and the towel scratches a little higher, a little more, and they can easily see your pussy. At that thought, the familiar throbbing between your legs reminds you just how wet you are, the viscous, clear liquid threatening to run down the inside of your thighs and stain Woo's clothes.

Praying that neither of them will notice how flushed and horny you feel at this moment, you squeeze your legs together and slide your hand down to pull the towel further down your legs, as far down as possible in this position.

You're so thirsty; the lust is bubbling just beneath the surface of your skin, and the heady mix of their scent and the residual alcohol in your blood is making you feel like such a needy slut.

The rational part of your brain tells you that you should be in a completely different state right now—a mess of tears and snot, probably on the verge of a complete nervous breakdown. Somewhere between the self-destruction of your own self-esteem and a crisis of identity, But here you are, practically naked in Woo's arms, with an obscenely wet pussy and no shame whatsoever.

In contrast to the'real' half of you, something small and evil urged you to go further, to spread your legs, to expose yourself shamelessly, to ride Wu's thigh and have a hot rodeo until you couldn't cum any more, and then let San use you however he wanted; you don't mind at all being a chew toy for him. Hell, boy, all you want to do is let him fuck your brains out.

You sink your teeth into your lower lip with force; the taste of blood is almost in your mouth.

"Fuck me. I want to sleep, baby. You can use me. Let's go to bed."You whine, puffing up your cheeks.

"Okay, okay, baby, let's put the princess to bed." San lifts you from your place on Woo's lap and pulls you tightly against his chest, and you can clearly feel every ripple of muscle on that perfect body. When did he have time to get that big?

He carries you into the bedroom like a princess. Wooyoung's shuffling footsteps can be heard behind you, and you throw your head back to meet his gaze.

"We had a change of sheets. Personally, I'm in favor of burning all his stuff."

"Have I told you I love you?"

"Mmm, let me think. Maybe just a few thousand times." He gives you a cheeky smile, and you laugh.

"Love, love, love, love, I love you so much. You're the best boys in the world. You sing with a big smile on your face, and the sound of their laughter fills the bedroom.

"We love you too; we love you so much."

If you weren't so drunk and tired, your brain might have been able to process Wooyoung's changed intonation, but you completely ignored any possible hint of how they felt about you.

San gently laid you down on the bed, and Woo's lithe body crawled beside you, snuggling against your side, hugging you like his personal teddy bear.

"Woo, let her go; she has to put on some clothes." He pulls off his T-shirt and holds the soft fabric out in front of you. Your hands lazily crumple it up in an attempt to decide whether or not to put it on, but the boys decide for you.

Wooyoung sits you down and holds you tightly by the waist while San pulls the T-shirt over your head and pulls off the towel at the same time. You are still naked, but you are a bit more decent now.

"You're such good friends. I wish I could date someone like you." You lie back down, and Woo's hands paddle you again, as if it's his natural reflex. You're not aware of the exchange of glances between the two of them. The silent conversation that goes on between them is completely ignored.

"Hmm, someone like us?" San sits down on the bed in front of you, and in an instant, your fingers cling to his naked chest. You want so badly to sink your teeth into the smooth, bulging muscles of his chest. "Baby, aren't you afraid we're going to be jealous?"

"You and jealousy, come on. I went out with Suho, and none of you minded."

"It's because the idiot has a tiny dick." With an evil giggle, Woo whispers in your ear.

"Wooyoung!"

"He's right, chagia. When was the last time you had an orgasm?"

"San, not you too." You whine and give him a light tap on the shoulder.

"Well, if you were with someone like us, you'd know what it means to have a good fuck. We'd fuck your brains out, baby."

"Jung Wooyoung, wash your filthy mouth. San, tell him." You call out to your more rational friend in a resentful tone to calm Woo down.

"Well, I can't say that he's wrong. You won't be on foot for days after we are." The grin on San's face is so predatory that you can't tell that it's your sweet himbo friend. It's making the muscles at the bottom of your stomach clench in anticipation of this promise.

"You do know that I used to sleep with Yunho before I started dating Suho, right? You can hardly come as a surprise to me; he's very good."

"We know." Woo hissed in annoyance, and his arms tightened around you, planting his foot on your thigh and completely cutting off any attempt you might have made to pull away from him, even if you wanted to.

"But we're so much better." A hot palm slides just over your waist near to Wooyoung's hand, practically covering your breasts. You feel the full weight of it on your body.

"In your dreams."

For a few moments, you close your eyes and fall silent. The comforting silence lulls you to sleep, but there is one thought that keeps you from falling completely into a deep slumber. With a groan, you come back to reality, blinking slowly as your brain forms the words that seem to be too heavy on the tip of your tongue—heavy, but so damned sweet.

"I wanna… I mean, let's have threesome."

"Sorry, what!" Wooyoung almost yells, sitting up in bed in an instant and staring at you with his eyes wide open. If the situation wasn't so serious, you could laugh at his shocked expression. "Is it an offer for sex? Right now?"

"Jesus, Wooyoung, just let me finish." You sit down as well and take each one of them by the hand. "We graduate next year, and if… if we are all free and you don't mind, maybe we can have threesomes."

"I'm ready. Why wait?" Woo clings to you like a leech. He presses every inch of his body against you so tightly that you practically melt into each other. His skin is hot, and you can feel his breath brushing against your ear and his lips touching it as he speaks. "Come, Y/N, we can do this now. I'm going to take you to heaven."

"Wooyoung, I'm serious."

You have to look at San, who's been silent the whole time. The look in his eyes is so dark, full of lust and hunger. It doesn't leave you for a second.

"San…"

"I'll do anything for you, Y/N."

"I'll be ready for you in a year if you're still willing. Now get out of the room, the both of you. Tonight I'll be alone in bed."

You push them off the bed, San rolls over on the floor with a clatter, and Wooyoung jumps up like a man who has been scalded.

"But chagi…" He whines, loud and nasty, as San drags him out of the room.

"Sweet dreams, gongjunim." That's the last thing you hear before the door slams shut behind them and you're left alone in the bedroom.

You can hear their muffled voices coming from the hallway, trying so hard to keep quiet. Wooyoung's incessant complaining, mixed with San's low muttering, effectively lulls you to sleep. You probably won't even remember tonight, let alone this stupid proposal, but little do you know that neither San nor Wooyoung have any intention of letting you forget.

You are going to have a very funny year in front of you.

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incorrectbatfam · 1 year

Note

Could you please do some headcanons about Batmans cooking disasters over the years?

Age 5: Bruce puts tinfoil in the microwave. Alfred shakes his head and laughs

Age 6: He decorates a cookie so badly another kid cries until they throw up

Age 7: He tries to make a PB&J and the countertop is sticky for a week

Age 8: He tries to make Martha's chicken noodle soup but ends up crying on the kitchen floor surrounded by half-chopped vegetables

Age 9: He tries to impress a houseguest by recreating Thomas's mixology tricks (sans alcohol). There's still a stain on the ceiling to this day

Age 10: He makes green eggs. It's not on purpose. He's never even read the book

Age 11: He makes lava in the school cafeteria

Age 12: He tries to make cheese bread by drilling holes into a baguette and filling it with melted nacho cheese

Age 13: He melts a cutting board in the oven

Age 14: He folds a Pop Tart

Age 15: The chocolate-covered bananas he makes for the school bake sale come out looking very very wrong

Age 16: He's asked to drop a home economics class after mistaking refried beans for pumpkin puree in a pie

Age 17: He boils eggs in the carton

Age 18: He makes his entire freshman dorm evacuate after burning his ramen to ash

Age 19: He sculpts a severed hand out of meatloaf and is sent to the university psychologist

Age 20: He tries to bake a cake but doesn't have a cake pan, so he pours the batter right in the oven

Age 21: He tries Thomas's mixology tricks again, this time with alcohol. One of the tricks is flipping it over his head. He ends up losing part of his vision for 3 days

Age 22: He burns water. Harley Quinn is there. She still holds it over his head

Age 23: He packs his first patrol snack as Batman. It's a chocolate bar wrapped in a tortilla. The chocolate melts onto his gloves and he drops the tortilla down a sewer grate

Age 24: He makes an ice cream cookie sandwich to eat while he and Batgirl work on a case, but he's so engrossed in the work that he doesn't notice it melt until Babs points it out

Age 25: He enters the first annual Justice League cook-off and immediately gets banned from ever entering again

Age 26: He tries to comfort little Dickie Grayson by making fried cornbread from a book of Roma comfort recipes. It turns out about as well as you'd expect when you give Bruce Wayne hot oil. Bruce is genuinely bummed out, but Dick says it's the thought that counts

Age 27: Clark delivers a huge hunk of beef from the farm. Instead of waiting for Alfred to come back, Bruce and Dick try to break it down with a power saw

Age 28: Bruce and Dick's latkes are burned so badly they can play floor hockey with them

Age 29: He makes stuffed mushrooms. Badly. Like imagine the worst way you can fuck up a mushroom. It still won't compare to what Bruce did. And it's for a potluck with the West-Allens that Barry won't let him live down

Age 30: Bruce sees Dick struggling to make ravioli and he's like "Let me show you how it's done" before proceeding to make it infinitely worse

Age 31: Bruce sees a hungry Jason Todd and the first thing he does when they return to the manor is make a double-decker bread sandwich. That's bread with two more slices of bread in between

Age 32: Bruce packs Dick and Jason's lunchboxes when Alfred is out of town. They're supposed to include a salad. Instead, Dick gets a whole head of lettuce and Jason's is just a bottle of ranch

Age 33: He makes hot chocolate after patrol... but forgets the chocolate

Age 34: The Manor is too cold, so Bruce tries to warm it up by making Jason's favorite soup. His hands shake the whole time. Suddenly, he's eight years old again, sitting on the kitchen floor surrounded by scraps reminding him of his failure

Age 35: Jack and Janet Drake are out of the country again, leaving young Timmy by himself. Bruce decides to bring some dinner over. It's baked perfectly, but it's full of things that shouldn't be anywhere near a casserole dish. They end up ordering takeout and watching old detective movies together

Age 36: Steph walks through how to make waffles. Bruce is standing there, watching closely and taking notes. They still come out looking radioactive

Age 37: Cass asks if they can get smoothies. Bruce says he can make them at home. She gives him a warning look but that's not enough to stop him. Cue Bruce forgetting to put the lid on the blender

Age 38: Jason's first night back at home, Bruce tries to make that soup. It shoots out like a geyser and hits the lights. He's panicking until he hears Jason laugh, and then the soup doesn't matter

Age 39: Damian screws up hummus and he desperately tries to hide it so people won't see him as inadequate at something so basic. Instead of getting upset, Bruce assures him it's okay and offers to fix it. (He doesn't fix it, he just makes it worse)

Age 40: Bruce's birthday happens while he's fake-dead and away from home. He grabs a convenience store cupcake and sticks a single candle on it. Then he closes his eyes, pretends his family is around him, and makes a wish. (The candle droops and sets the hotel sheets on fire)

Age 41: Back at the Manor, he attempts to make lemonade on a particularly hot day. Selina offers to help, but Bruce declines, saying, "How hard can it be?" (Spoiler alert: it's not supposed to be full of seeds)

Age 42: Kate shows him a video of Canadians pouring maple syrup into the snow to make candy, so he gets her to boil the syrup so they can do it together. The problem comes when they can't control the pour and end up with a glob the size of Damian

Age 43: As part of a school project, Bruce and Duke try to deduce the Coca-Cola secret formula. Duke's teacher takes a point off because at the beginning he told her he'd taste the results, but there's no way he's doing that now

Age 44: The family gets together to make a full English breakfast Alfred's birthday. Each person takes a part—Dick has eggs, Jason has the grilled tomatoes, Tim has mushrooms, Duke has the bacon, Steph and Cass are tag-teaming the sausages, Damian just has to open a can of beans, and Bruce needs to put bread in the toaster. It goes South immediately when Damian reaches for his katana instead of the can opener

Age 45: Bruce puts tinfoil in the microwave. Alfred shakes his head and laughs

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wintaerbaer · 1 month

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things we don't say: part 6 (TEASER) (kth)

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banner credit: @itaeewon

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slooooow burn, angst, fluff

word count: 1.2k

teaser warnings: a very sad boy, references to sexual situations, brief mentions of child abuse, vomiting, someone has a wet dream, guilt, shame, a haircut

a/n: sincerest apologies that this series has gone so long without an update. i was struggling with some aggressive writer's block these past few months, but i think we're back in business! <3

PREVIOUS // SERIES MASTERLIST

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To say he falls into a state of depression may be an understatement.

He barely eats, barely sleeps, and while Taehyung has always considered you to be the center of his universe—his entire being oriented to you like a star—you’ve begun to haunt him in ways that you never have before. Reminders of you creeping into every minute of his days.

It’s passing your favorite ramen place on his way home from a photoshoot. Or finding a can of your favorite sparkling water buried in the back of his fridge. Or flipping past the cooking show you used to watch together or stumbling upon one of your sweatshirts in his closet or the fact that he still has that damn photo of you hanging up behind his desk.

You’re everywhere—your being so deeply ingrained into his life that he couldn’t erase you even if he wanted to.

And he certainly doesn’t want to erase you; he’s too selfish for that. Even now, even after he’s fucked up to catastrophic degrees by forcing his feelings on you, he still can’t bear to face you directly. Because he knows it would be the end of him for you to reject and abandon him too, even if he can’t blame you for it.

It keeps him up at night, thinking about what he could’ve done differently. How he somehow lost his handle on the control which he has always internally prided himself on (sans a drunken conversation with Namjoon last year where he spilled his guts as was met with a lack of surprise on his friend’s part). He’s always promised himself that he would never burden you, that his love for you was not your responsibility but something for him to manage on his own.

And yet, with you sitting so close on the hotel bed—looking absolutely beautiful in your simple PJs even after he spent the day with you all dressed up—his defenses had crumbled the second you pressed into his side and asked him the final question of your fateful game.

How could he not kiss you then? How could he not give you what you asked of him when he wouldn’t hesitate to lay down his very life if you required it?

But still, he spends hours each night staring at the white expanse of his ceiling wishing he had held back like he always did. Years spent training himself to resist the way his blood calls out for you reduced to naught the second he got his first taste of your lips. And now you likely hate him.

And as if it’s not enough for his brain to put him through this nightly torture, the guilt eating him alive, when he finally does manage to scrounge up a few hours of sleep, there’s the matter of the dreams.

He revisits the hotel room every night. Can taste you again, hear your moans, feel your mouth on him and your warm skin underneath his hands as his mind drags him back through every minute detail on a loop. It’s agony, having to both wrangle with the knowledge of how it felt to be with you as well as face his sins every time he closes his eyes. Realize just how badly he fucked up when he wakes to once again find the other half of his bed empty.

Because in spite of him spending years convincing himself that you were never meant to be, there’s still a small part of Taehyung’s subconscious that’s always carved out space for you in his life. It’s the part that stocks your favorite drinks in his fridge, keeps that photo of you pinned behind his computer, leaves a side of the bed open for you because he became so damn accustomed to sleeping next to you in high school.

He’d found that the bruises from his father didn’t hurt as much when you were sitting next to him making him laugh in your bedroom. That his brain would quiet enough from the terrors to allow him to sleep if you were there lying next to him. That he didn’t feel the dull pain, only the gentle touches of your fingers, as you carefully applied makeup onto the dark patches of skin before school.

It had been easy, then, to dedicate himself to providing you with the same support and care you had shown him in any way he could. To wish for your happiness above all else—his guardian angel through and through.

At least, that is, until he lost control in that hotel room.

One night, after a particularly vivid dream involving your body under his, he awakes to sheets that are soaked around his middle. He blanches at the evidence of his body’s desire for you even now, the horror at the audacity of his unconscious mind causing bile to churn and rise in his throat.

He bolts for the bathroom, barely making it there before he empties the contents of his stomach into the toilet. His body shakes as he retches above the porcelain, guilt rattling his bones until he can hardly keep himself upright.

When the waves of nausea stop, when he can finally pull himself up to lean his elbows against the sink, he stares hard at the mirror and man he sees there.

He looks haggard, dark splotches sitting under his eyes and hair hanging limp around his face and over his forehead. The pale skin of his cheeks and lips is surely due, in part, to the vomiting, but there’s no denying that he’s a shell of his former self. A ghost just going through the motions of a past life.

And it’s there, peering through the darkness at his own reflection, that Taehyung decides he hates himself.

He’s not sure if it’s the raw disgust or the unrelenting shame that has him reaching for the hair clippers, but as his sable tresses begin to fall in chunks over the bathroom counter and floor, Taehyung thinks he deserves this.

He deserves the torment of his dreams. That disturbing combination of his wildest fantasies and nightmares rolled into one.

He deserves to wake up alone. To be reminded of his transgressions at the break of each day.

And he deserves to lose you.

Hell, he never deserved to have you.

The silence that follows the buzz of the trimmer seems at odds with the roaring in his head. Still, he manages to scoop the mess of hair into the trash before dragging himself back to the tangle of his sheets.

He finds himself right back in that cursed hotel room.

When he shuffles into the living room the next morning, still fighting the lingering tastes of bile and your lips, Jungkook and Jimin are already awake at the kitchen bar drinking coffee. They freeze at the sight of him; the pastry that Jimin was halfway to putting in his mouth hits the ground with a thud as Jungkook lets out a low whistle and simply shakes his head.

“That bad, huh?”

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a/n: may or may not go back and revise this again for the final draft. in the meantime, a reminder that my ask box is always open! <3

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#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #taehyung imagines #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #taehyung smut #bts smut

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imaginidol · 9 months

Text

Wooyoung: The Boxing Match

!!mentions of nsfw!! 18+ !! do NOT interact if you’re not comfortable with smut!! thank you for the fun request!! pls feel free to send more, as this was really creative and interesting to figure out!! if you’re interested, i have a hongjoong ver. smut, san ver. smut, mingi ver. smut, yunho ver. smut, jongho ver. smut and i will have more up soon and updated here as i finish the requests!!

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“Fuck,” Wooyoung irritatingly threw his training towel over his forehead as he took a swig of his water bottle, avoiding the large screen in front of him as it repeatedly flashed the final results of tonight’s boxing match.

Kim Yugyeom v. Jung Wooyoung

12 Rounds @ Olympic Gymnast Arena

Scorecard: 112-110 | 110-110 | 120-107

Wooyoung crushed his water bottle and tossed it into a trash can, making his way to the backstage locker room as his team trailed behind him, patting him down with more towels and offering him more water.

It goes without saying that the boy was beyond pissed at his performance tonight. He sat alone at a bench and asked for space with a few minutes to cool down, to which his team deliberately agreed.

“Wooyoung,” Yugyeom walks up to the boy and pats his opponent’s back, “you did well tonight. You’re getting so much better, don’t beat yourself over the results.”

I won’t beat myself up over it ‘cause you already did me that favor, Wooyoung curses quietly to himself, nodding at his winning opponent.

“Thanks. You did well,” he says, wanting to add more, though he knew nothing appropriate would come out of his mouth if he kept talking. He was too angry, felt too dispirited, and most definitely wanted to wipe the nasty smirk off Yugyeom’s face.

As soon as Yugyeom walked out of the locker room, Wooyoung lunged himself forward and punched a wall pad in resentment.

“FUCK,” he shouted, ripping his handwraps off with immense aggravation and wanting nothing more than to go home and take a long, quiet shower.

—

Scorching drops of hot water splashed against Wooyoung’s bare back as he attempted to relax under the steaming shower. His efforts were to no avail, as every time he closed his eyes he was met with the burning image of Yugyeom’s villainous simper in the boxing ring.

Of course, Yugyeom had been training far longer than Wooyoung, and even though Wooyoung’s growth and training with 1-on-1 opponents had made him a promising candidate against Yugyeom in a match, his stamina wasn’t nearly enduring at the level he’d hoped for during the last few rounds of their fight. It seemed as though Yugyeom’s stamina had strengthened towards the end, a skill or tactic that Wooyoung couldn’t yet wrap his head around.

Fuck this, Wooyoung turns his body towards the shower head, wanting to clear his mind off tonight’s events instead.

He outstretches one hand to lean against the white tile wall in front of him, hunching over to wrap the other around his meat.

—

You turn the key to Wooyoung’s apartment, hoping he’d be home by now. The last thing you wanted to do was remind him of tonight’s result, as you knew how much the sport meant to him. So, you intended to approach him cautiously so as to not trigger his disappointment.

“Wooyoung?” You walk through the apartment, but most of the lights are out.

Maybe he’s asleep, you think, placing a pint of his favorite ice cream inside the freezer. You start making your way to his room, but the lights in there are also out.

The only light effusing faintly through the room was coming from the restroom, and you could hear the sounds of the running shower echoing from behind the slightly-opened door.

Oh, he’s home, then, you think, almost smiling before realizing that there were more sounds coming from inside the restroom than just the running shower head.

Soft moans and grunts emitted from deep within Wooyoung’s throat, and you placed an ear closer to the door to make sure there wasn’t anyone else in there with him.

What am I doing? He wouldn’t cheat on me—

OOF!!

Wooyoung lets out a startled shriek as you stumble into the restroom floor, falling flat on your face after having tripped over some folded jeans and a belt in the dark.

“I’M SO SORRY,” you scramble back to your feet, lunging for the door and slamming it shut behind you.

“Babe? When’d you get here?” Wooyoung yells from inside as he turns off the shower head, wrapping a loose towel around his waist.

“I only just got here,” you say, hugging your knees as you crouched on the floor against the restroom door.

Behind you, Wooyoung opens the door and a hot cloud of steam emerges from behind him.

“What are you doing here so late!?” he smiles for the first time all night, pulling you up and hugging you from behind. “Shouldn’t you be home and asleep right now?”

Damp drops of his wet hair soak your cheek and shirt collar as he buries his head into your shoulder, planting soft and wet kisses against your neck.

“I couldn’t not see you tonight,” you say quietly.

“Right,” Wooyoung pauses, lifting his head back in a scoff as the unpleasant reminder of tonight’s match crosses his mind. “That fucker’s good, I can’t deny it.”

You felt Wooyoung shiver slightly as the steamed warmth of the restroom had begun to slowly fade away.

"Uhm, why don't you go ahead and finish your shower? Get your mind off things."

"Okay," he huffs, "but you're coming with me."

—

Wooyoung, ever so gently, cranks up the heated water temperature and throws a water-safe lubing tube aside before turning his body around to face you. His wet hair falls over his forehead, his eyes darkening in desperation at the sight of your naked body leaning against the wall.

He wraps his hands slowly around your waist, leaning his face in closer as he begins caressing his lips gently against yours. He trails his teeth slowly to your bottom lip, nibbling ever so slightly as the water progressively got warmer and warmer behind him.

You wrap your arms around his neck and lean your head back as he trails kisses all over you. Soft gasps begin escaping your lips as you feel him lean his body weight against you, pinning your back further against the wall as his hardened cock poked itself between your thighs. You clutched onto the horizontal shower handle as Wooyoung carefully lifted you over it, groping your ass with both hands as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

For a few moments, you both remained comfortably in this position whilst making out longer, letting the hot water pour against your bodies as more and more steam fogged the air around you. You'd closed your eyes and let yourself be immersed by the feeling of his hot lips fighting to dominate yours, his tongue tracing and circling inside and around your mouth. He traced one hand against the outline of your ass to your waist, massaging his fingers gently around your nipple. You gasped at the sudden feel of his soft fingertips against your breasts, and your continuous soft moans only further hardened his already-erect cock.

He smiled into your mouth as he began gliding his hand back down to your abdomen, nudging gently against your clit as your moans progressively became more and more desperate for him.

"I might've not been able to win my boxing match," he whispers, "but I'll sure as hell make sure I dominate the fuck out of this one."

He pulls his fingers away from your clit and begins aligning his dick carefully with your entrance. You let out soft moans as the boy begins thrusting himself into you, experimenting with different speeds as your despairing cries begged for more. You clawed your fingernails deep into his back as the boy recklessly fucked you over and over, your insides heating up as the sounds of his desperate moans greeted your ears. The size of his cock was enough to make you want to scream at him to stop, but he just felt too fucking good pounding away like this when he was angry that you wouldn't dare yourself to give in.

"Fuck," he groans, lifting one of your legs up and over his shoulder as you safely clutched most of your weight against the shower handles. The boy tried desperately to hold in his grunts and groans, but with each deepening thrust, he kept flashing the stupid grin of Yugyeom's face in his mind, irking his anger more and more as he took it out on you. This resulted in a heated, rough fucking-session, and each impending whimper and scream from your mouth only made him want to push further.

In a sudden instant, he pulled out, making you whimper in slight frustration thinking he'd finished. But fuck no, he wasn't anywhere near done.

You switch positions, and now your body is turned at one end of the shower facing away from him, his hands wrapped around your stomach and your lower back as he breathes heavily into your ear.

"Bend for me," is all he says as you obediently hunch yourself forward, placing both your arms against the tub's edges as you feel his body weight leaning into your ass.

Once he's realigned to your entrance again, he assumes his reckless fucking as he starts hitting it from the back. With both hands groped tightly against your hips, the boy holds nothing back as he fucks into you at full throttle.

He's really fucking pissed. Also, you feel really fucking good as your velvety walls lurch around his throbbing cock.

"Fuck, babe," you whimper, holding back from letting your knees give in completely the moment he finds your G-spot. "Stay right there, fuck me right there."

The tempered boy starts panting harder with each deepening thrust, closing his eyes as his dampened bangs rocked back and forth against his forehead. He could feel the heated rush of pumping blood overwhelming every cell of his throbbing member. He leaned one arm forward against the wall, the other still wrapped tightly against your ass.

You let out a final, pleasurable cry as your boyfriend triggers a hot, gratifying orgasm, your knees buckling in place as you bent and rested your face over your folded arms against the tub's edge. His groans were not far from yours as he concentrated on reaching his climax next. Finally, his knees weaken at the feel of his cum shooting through and out of your walls, a final victory that he could satisfyingly consider bringing home for the night.

"Fuck," he says, pulling you up as you rested your head against his shoulder, hot water splashing delightfully against your bodies.

"You're good at fucking people up," you smile as he bends over to leave hot, gentle kisses over your gaped mouth.

"Nah," he smiles, "I'm just good at fucking you."

—

One gentler shower later, you both cuddled under Wooyoung's covers feeling fresher and more satisfied after the night's better outcomes.

"Wooyoung?" you look up under your hair towel as he leaves gentle kisses against your forehead. "Would you ever have a re-match with Yugyeom?"

"Hmm," he smiles, toying with a finger gently against your stomach, "I don't know yet."

"I think you should," you declare.

"I don't always have to win. I have to learn to accept defeat, too," he smiles.

"Oh," you say, intertwining your fingers around his. "I hope you lose a lot more, then."

"Why would you say that?" he furrows his brows in annoyance.

"Because I like the way you fuck me when you're mad," you smirk.

"Believe me," he giggles, sinking his face into your neck, "I'll try not to lose too many matches to keep you safe, then."

You both soon fell asleep, Wooyoung satisfied with the thought that at the very least, there was one thing that even a great boxer like Yugyeom couldn't ever take away from him.

You.

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softspiderling · 2 years

Text

summer days (drifting away) | b.r.b.

summary: He stood straight and took a few steps, before he paused, turning back to you. “You can call me Bradley!”

With a salute, he continued his run down the beach. Leaning on your arms, you watched his backside until he was only a tiny spot in the distance. You hadn’t really planned on hooking up with anyone during your time here, but if the people here looked only half as good as Bradley, you weren’t sure if you could resist.

or, Bradley bumped into you at the beach and then just keeps doing that

alternatively, an ode to Miles Teller's hands

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

warnings: mention of bruising and bruises, contains smut, minors dni!

word count: 5,6k

author's note: this took a very unexpected turn. anyway, I think you're still going to like it lmao. also my first bradley fic like what. happy reading!!!

“Oh shit!”

You hadn’t been in San Diego long when you immediately packed your bag for the beach. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, but after that horrendous flight the night before, you were antsy for some exercise. After a few laps, the sun was burning from the sky and you went for a quick dip in the water before laying down to dry off. You hadn’t meant to, but eventually, you dozed off, to the sound of the seagulls crowing and the waves crashing gently into the shore. You were rudely woken up by something heavy crashing into you, and when your eyes fluttered open, you had a lap full of a man.

He was bare chested and his aviators sat crooked on his nose when he looked up at you, pushing himself off of the sandy ground with his hands.

“Ow fuck, I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he panted out and only then you noticed the very prominent mustache he was sporting. You couldn’t understand how you missed it in the first place.

“That’s an understatement. It’s not like I was moving in any shape or form, how could you not have seen me?” you asked dryly, after processing the shock.

“I was in thoughts,” he explained, getting on his knees and dusting the sand off his hands. “Did I hurt you?”

You could tell by the dull pain in your thigh that you’d have a bruise in the shape of his hand later, but it wasn’t like you were going to tell him that, so you shook your head. He was too busy checking you out himself, however, so you told him no when his eyes finally found yours.

“Good. That’s… Good…” he said, trailing off. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

“And how are you planning on doing that?”

“Um, the Hard Deck. Tonight, at seven? I’ll buy you a drink.”

“What the hell is the Hard Deck?”

Wordlessly, he pointed over your shoulder to the small bar that sat at the top of the beach. “See you tonight?” He didn’t look like he was going to accept any other answer besides yes, so you sighed, nodding.

“Great.”

He stood straight and took a few steps, before he paused, turning back to you. “You can call me Bradley!”

With a salute, he continued his run down the beach. Leaning on your arms, you watched his backside until he was only a tiny spot in the distance. You hadn’t really planned on hooking up with anyone during your time here, but if the people here looked only half as good as Bradley, you weren’t sure if you could resist.

You spent the rest of the day on the beach, only packing up your stuff when the wind picked up, and made your way back to the small cottage you had rented. You took a quick shower, washed away all the sand and sea water. As you got dressed, you glanced at the bruise on your thigh. Bradley’s hand print on your thigh was starting to turn darker, but it wasn’t that noticeable yet. You laid your hand over it, splaying your fingers out to mimic his hand, only to realize that you couldn’t even cover the spot, which made you feel… Funny. Shaking out of it, you just tugged some shorts on. The sunset turned your room orange and you were able to catch the last few minutes of it, when you headed back outside.

San Diego was refreshingly different from New York. And you weren’t just talking about the weather. When you initially booked the flight to San Diego, you very knowingly decided against Malibu (too many people) and Miami (too… Florida). However, you completely forgot about the naval base that was in San Diego.

The naval base which you definitely remembered now, as a bunch of uniformed people passed by you. Without realizing, you had walked towards the Hard Deck, loud music coming out of the bar. You hadn’t even decided if you wanted to go yet, but since you were already there, it wouldn’t hurt to actually go in, right?

When you stepped in, the warm air immediately engulfed you and you found it hard to find your way to a spot, where you wouldn’t stand in the way. To your luck, you managed to grab an empty bar stool, quickly taking a seat.

As if she was just waiting for you, the barkeeper appeared in front of you.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

“Uhm….” you stammered, looking for a menu, but failing. “I’m actually waiting for someone, I’m fine for now, thanks”

The barkeeper nodded, picking up an empty glass and filling it with water, placing it in front of you. “Call me if you need me.”

You sipped on your water, nearly choking when someone bumped into your side.

“Oh shit, I- Oh, hey it’s you.”

You recognized his voice right away, and with a sigh, you looked up at him - Bradley - and gave him an unimpressed look. “Are you going to make it a habit to bump into me?”

“Nah, don’t think my wallet would like that very much,” Bradley laughed. “What are you drinking?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” you replied, still somewhat bothered by the lack of menu and Bradley waved down the barkeeper, raising two fingers at her. She placed two beers on the countertop with a warm smile. Bradley twisted the cap of both bottles, handing you one.

“Cheers.”

You clinked your bottle against his and took a swig, grimacing as the bitter liquid ran down your throat, before schooling your face again. Bradley had apparently not noticed, as he drank his own, bopping his head to the music.

“So, what brings you to Fightertown?” he asked, taking off his sunglasses. Why he was wearing them indoors in the first place, you didn’t know. But when you finally saw his warm brown eyes he’d been hiding between his sunglasses, you were glad that he had been wearing them up to this point. Instead, you opted to look at his clothes, a colorful Hawaiian shirt over a wife beater, now being dragged down by the sunglasses he had stuck in the vee of his top.

“Just a vacation,” you replied, taking your eyes off his chest and looking up, only to see him grinning at you knowingly. “So what’s with the navy bar?” you asked, hoping to distract him.

“I’m a naval aviator,” Bradley explained, his eyebrows shooting up. “Did I not tell you?”

With a shake of your head, you snorted. “Shouldn’t a naval aviator be well aware of his surroundings though?”

“Trust me, I am not this clumsy when I am in the air.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You lifted the beer to your lips, immediately pulling a face again. Bradley laughed at the sight, leaning against the counter. “You don’t really like beer, do you?”

“I’m sorry. There’s no menu and I don’t really know what they have here,” you sighed and he chuckled, taking the beer from your hands.

“It’s okay. What do you like?”

“Something fruity?”

“Hey Penny!” Bradley called over to the barkeeper. “Can you make my friend a fruity alcoholic?”

In a matter of seconds, a colorful drink, strikingly similar to Bradley’s shirt actually, was standing in front of you. When you took a sip, your face brightened at the taste.

“Better?”

“Loads.”

Bradley shook his head with a smile. “Come on, my friends are at the pool table.” He walked off, not actually making sure that you were following him and you sighed at his presumption, weaving through the crowd with your drink in his hand. At the pool table, Bradley was pressing one of the beer bottles into a blond’s hand, a couple of other people standing around. When the blond saw you, he eyed you up and down, nearly choking on the beer.

“Fuck Rooster, the hell did you do to that poor girl?”

You looked down, the bruise on your thigh a dark purple now, the hand imprint contrasting starkly against your skin. Flushing, you looked up at Bradley, whose face was very red now.

“I thought you said I didn’t hurt you,” he muttered tightly, the tips of his fingers brushing against the bruise, making you shiver. Bradley quickly pulled his hand back, as if he remembered where he was, a grim look on his face.

“I just bruise easily, it doesn’t actually hurt that much, I’m fine,” you assured him, but Bradley continued staring at the imprint.

“Didn’t know you were that kinky in bed, Bradshaw.”

Your face grew hot at the blond’s insinuation. “He tripped over me on the beach.”

“That’s… Even worse,” he sighed, giving Bradley a long look. Based on the dog tags on his neck, he must be working with Bradley.

“I hope you made it up to her, Bradshaw,” a woman with dark hair said, concern on her face, before she looked up at you. “Hey, I’m Natasha. Or Phoenix, whatever floats your boat.”

Phoenix introduced you to everyone else, and god, all of them were so attractive. Was that a requirement to be a naval aviator? You told them your name and Bradley rubbed his hand over his face, embarrassed. “I didn’t even ask for your name.”

“Jesus, get it together, Bradshaw.”

“Shut up, Hangman,” Bradley huffed, bumping Hangman, apparently, with his shoulders. “I wasn’t paying attention on a run and clearly I am destined to forever embarrass myself in front of her anyway.”

“So, you’re on vacation?” Halo asked curiously and you nodded.

“Yeah, my boss forced me to actually take days off instead of just taking case files home and working from my bedroom.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m an Assistant’s State attorney in New York.”

“You’re a lawyer?” Hangman asked, before bursting out in laughter, leaning on the pool stick. “Oh this is truly getting better by the second. Please tell me you’re suing Rooster here for bodily harm.”

“Do you ever shut up, Hangman?”

Hangman merely chuckled out a laugh, leaning in to whisper something in Bradley’s ear, before handing him the pool stick. He and some other aviators then moved over to the dartboard, freeing up the pool table. Bradley sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry about him. He just likes to rile me up a bit, he’s all bark and no bite.”

“It’s fine, I’ve heard worse.”

“You know, I considered going into law before I decided for the academy,” Phoenix told you and Bradley raised his eyebrows at her.

“You were?”

“Yeah, but in the end I chose the Navy. Being a lawyer just seemed a bit too hard for me.”

“As opposed to flying a multi-million dollar plane, of course,” you chuckled and Phoenix gave you a sharp smile. You could imagine working alongside Phoenix in a courtroom. She looked like she had a couple of tricks up her sleeve.

“God, who picked this song?” Bradley groaned when the intro of Shape of You started playing. You all looked at the juke-box, where one of Bradley’s co-workers, you believed it was Fanboy, was standing, moving his head excessively to the song.

“Yeah, that’s a no from me,” Bradley sighed, taking a sip from his beer before brushing his hand over your arm. “Come on.”

He moved to the back of the bar and you turned to Phoenix with a confused look but she only laughed, gently pushed you towards where Bradley was going. He had seated himself in front of a piano as the jukebox suddenly died down.

“What is happening?” you asked, leaning on the piano when everyone started crowding around the piano. You glanced down, where Bradley’s fingers were dancing over the piano keys, before meeting his eyes; he only gave you a cheeky smile, before hitting the notes.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain.”

You raised your eyebrows when Bradley started belting out Jerry Lee Lewis’ Great Balls of Fire, completely entranced in his performance. As the rest of the bar joined him in the song, you realized that this must be something that happened regularly and you chuckled, amused.

“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

Great balls of fire, indeed.

When you woke up the next day, the image of Bradley’s hands flying over the keys of the piano was still ingrained in your mind. You pushed back the blankets, to expose the bruise on your thigh, and by now it settled into a dark purple. Pressing down on it gently, you hissed at the pain shooting up your leg, so you clenched your hands in a fist, staring at the bruise. You didn’t know why the bruise made you feel what you felt. Sighing, you climbed out of bed and got ready for the day.

The small kitchen had a fridge and even though the stove wasn’t the newest, you’d figure you’d try and cook on it. If you had any ingredients to cook with, that is. After a quick google search, you located the nearest grocery store and took the bike in the shed with the small basket at the back. The grocery store was quite busy, which you should’ve expected, but didn’t let that deter you, as you walked between the aisles. It took you a few minutes to find everything you needed, but soon, you found the frozen section and picked up the bag of peas.

Which you promptly dropped when someone smacked the freezer door against your head.

“Ouch!”

You looked to the side, full on glaring at the other person, only letting out a frustrated sigh when you saw who it was.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I am so sorry,” Bradley whined, picking up the peas for you and pressing it against the growing bump on your forehead. “I opened the door with way too much momentum.”

“I thought you weren’t going to make a habit out of it,” you grumbled, curling your fingers around the pea back and pushing his hand away. Bradley ducked his head, probably to hide the redness that was spreading over his face and you seriously couldn’t believe that the Navy let someone like him in the air.

“You always catch me whenever I am not aware of my surroundings, I swear I am not doing it on purpose.”

Bradley gingerly picked the pea bag out of your hands, inspecting your bump. You frowned, reaching up to touch your forehead, wincing when that made the throbbing pain worse. Taking a deep breath, you reached a new bag of frozen peas, walking around Bradley to the check out.

“Hey, where are you going?” Bradley called after you, running so he could catch up with you.

“Home. Where else do you think?”

Your tone was snappish, even though you knew he didn’t purposefully smack the door against your head. But still. You were allowed to be upset. You started putting your things on the conveyor belt, before Bradley took the basket out of his hand, adding it to his stuff. You’d protest, but honestly, at this point that was the least he could do.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride,” he told you, shifting the grocery bags in his hand but you shook your head at him.

“No, I can’t leave my bike here.”

Bradley gave you a funny look. “You biked here?”

You silenced him with a look and he shook his head quickly.

“Uh, nevermind. We can put your car in the back of my car, you shouldn’t ride a bike like this.”

And he was right. So you walked with him to his car, got inside and waited while he loaded the bike in the trunk before getting in himself. You gave him the directions to your rental and leaned back as he drove. A short car ride later, his car pulled to a stop in front of the cottage. While Bradley took your bike down, you unlocked the front door with one of the grocery bags, heading straight to the kitchen.

“Were you planning on cooking?” he asked, hovering awkwardly in the doorway as you sorted through your stuff.

“Yeah, that was the plan. You know, before you bonked me in the head.”

“Let me help you then,” Bradley said, coming up behind you to take the bag of pistachio nuts he bought for himself, tossing them back into the grocery bag. The spot, where your hands touched suddenly felt warm and you shrunk away, looking up at him.

“Don’t you have an important plane to fly?”

“Day off, hence-” he pointed at his grocery bag. “Now will you let me help you? Please?”

“Well, if you insist.”

You heaved yourself on the counter, your legs dangling in the air. Bradley looked a little bit lost so you started giving him instructions on what to do, how much water he should use and when to put the pasta in. He was trying really hard, but it was obvious that he didn’t cook very often.

“Jesus, don’t stirr so hard.”

“What! I thought it’s going to get blended anyway!”

“Yeah, but still. You could be a little more graceful, don’t be so heavy-handed.”

“I am a big guy,” Bradley sniffed.

He sure was.

The kitchen wasn’t the biggest in the first place, but as soon as Bradley came in, it seemed it shrunk to half its size. The blender looked tiny in his hands when he took it out of the cupboard. He grabbed the cheese grater, holding it over a bowl as he grated the cheese and your eyes glazed over as you imagined his hands holding you in place while he did god knows what to your body.

“You okay? You look a bit flushed.”

Quickly, you averted your eyes from his hands, hoping he hadn’t noticed. What kind of person lusts over a man who was just trying to cook for you? Nah, wait, that was kind of a normal thing to lust over, wasn’t it?

“Fine. Just a bit warm.”

Bradley side-eyed you, a smirk curling on his lips before he turned his attention back to his task at hand. You tried to keep your lusty eyes at bay for the remaining time Bradley was standing at the stove and about thirty minutes later, Bradley plated you a beautiful portion of pasta, his eyes fleeting to the second plate.

“Oh come on, that would be mean of me not to let you eat after you worked so hard. Eat with me.”

Just like the room it was standing in, the table was tiny, barely fitting two grown adults. You and Bradley sat across from each other, knees brushing occasionally as you ate.

“You don’t cook often, do you?”

He stared at you, mouth open before he took another bite of the pasta, pursing his lips.

“It doesn’t taste that bad, does it?”

“No no,” you assured him quickly, laughing at his expression. “It’s good. Just… The way you were fumbling around the kitchen, I guess it was pretty obvious.”

Bradley’s eye twitched, as if it physically pained him that you were laughing at his expense but he didn’t say a thing, shoving another spoonful of pasta in his mouth. It was oddly domestic, and usually that’d make you uncomfortable, but the fact that you didn’t? You weren’t sure what that meant.

When the two of you finished eating, you stacked the empty plates and put them in the sink, letting the water run over it for good measure. You could hear the chair scratching against the floor behind you as Bradley got up.

“Thanks for lunch.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, smiling coyly. “You were the one who was cooking.”

“You know what I mean,” Bradley chuckled. He shifted on his feet. “I gotta go now, I am supposed to meet my uncle later. But uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “You can call me if your pain’s getting worse.”

Smooth.

“I don’t have your number,” you retorted and Bradley’s cheeks reddened, slipping his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. You typed your phone number into his contacts and saved it, shooting yourself a text message for good measure before returning his phone.

You walked him to the door and Bradley stilled, his hand on the door knob. “We’re at the Hard Deck almost every night. If you ever want to join us again.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Standing in the doorway, you waited until Bradley’s bronco turned around the corner before you shut the door. God, you had not expected to pine after a naval aviator during your vacation. Massaging the temple of your forehead, you head to the living room to maybe pop an ibuprofen.

For the next few days, you resisted the urge to actually go down to the Hard Deck. Or text Bradley for that matter. You used the free time on your hand to go into town and check out local shops, and head down to the beach to tan a bit. Even though you tried not to, you kept an eye out for a particular mustached aviator. On your third night, you were laying on the couch, staring at the ceiling of the living room.

“God, what kind of vacation is this?” you muttered to yourself, rolling over to smush your face into the pillow. You didn’t even know why you were torturing yourself like this. You knew you liked Bradley and that you wanted to see him. So why weren’t you letting yourself do so?

Cuz you’re scared that you’re going to like him too much.

Screw that rational voice inside your head.

///

Bradley’s eyes flitted to the entrance of the bar whenever someone entered the bar and he realized that he was starting to look desperate. He knew that you were on vacation and that you probably had better things to do than hang around a Navy bar, but… Sue him. There had been new… Revelations and he was itching to put them to a test. Bradley suspected that you had a thing for his hands. You’ve been staring a lot at them and flushing all prettily when he caught you, he wasn’t sure if there was another explanation for it.

“You’re starting to look really pathetic, Bradshaw.”

Bradley didn’t even have to look away from the door to know that it was Hangman who joined him at the table, blindly reaching his hand out to grab the beer the other man had brought him from the bar.

“Just making sure you have enough material to make fun of me for.”

“At this point I only feel sorry for you.”

“I hit her with a freezer door in the head the last time I saw her.”

Bradley wasn’t sure why he told Hangman, but it was too late to take back. Hangman only blinked at him, sighing deeply.

“You’re literally flying for the Navy, Bradshaw. Please don’t embarrass us.” Hangman glanced over Bradley’s shoulder, hissing a head’s up before he disappeared. Bradley whirled around when he saw you coming towards him, face flushed.

“Hi.”

///

“Well, look who the cat dragged in,” Bradley teased, looking you up and down. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, haven’t sustained any bodily harm since we last saw each other, but I am sure that’s going to change soon now that you’re around.”

“Ha!” Bradley barked out, though you didn’t miss the blush on his cheeks.

“Another fruity drink?”

“On your dime? Absolutely.”

“Well, I guess I do still owe you one drink,” he said wryly, heading to the bar to grab you said drink. Meanwhile, you greeted the others, smiling at Phoenix, who grinned at you.

“Hey, you. Was starting to think that Rooster’s scared you off already.”

“No, I am not that hard to get rid off,” you laughed, kind of touched that your absence was noted.

“You guys up for a game of pool?” Phoenix asked, holding the other cue stick in her hand, Halo hovering closely nearby.

You pulled a face. Pool wasn’t really something you pride yourself on playing often. And you didn’t like to do something you weren’t particularly good at, since the chance you’d embarrass yourself was very high. Embarrassing yourself in front of a group of highly skilled naval aviators was really the last thing you wanted to do today.

“I think I’ll pass, I am not really the best.”

“Aw come on,” Bradley crowed, returning to the pool table with your drink in hand. “I’ll pick up your slack. Eight-ball?”

Halo had already started collecting the balls in a triangle and you sighed, knowing you wouldn’t get out of this now.

“Fine. One game,” you relented, grabbing your drink from Bradley’s hand and taking a sip. There was no way you’d survive this embarrassment sober.

Phoenix started the game, hitting the balls straight in the middle with the white cue ball, spreading the stripes and solids very evenly across the pool table. You and Bradley took turns, alternating with Halo and Phoenix. After about twenty minutes, Halo and Phoenix have sunk about six balls, while you and Bradley have sunk three.

Correction, Bradley sunk three.

You winced, as the white cute ball moved into the opposite direction of where you wanted it to go and Bradley bit back a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand.

“How about you stop laughing and help me?” you complained, while Phoenix lined up her shot in her turn. “You know we’re on the same team, right?”

“Honestly, you’re not that bad. It’s just that you’re holding the cue stick the wrong way. Here, let me show you.”

Bradley took the cue stick out of your hand when it was your turn again, easily sinking another one of your striped balls. “See? Easy.”

Scoffing, you accepted the cue stick when he offered it to you, lining up against the cue ball, turning back to check with Bradley. He shook his head, and without further ado, he pushed himself off of the table he was leaning on, bending over to correct your posture.

“Here, hold your hand like this,” he instructed, his body flush against yours. His breath was hot on your neck and you flushed, clumsily following his orders. Jesus, this man had no sense of shame, did he? “Okay, now try hitting the ball, not too hard though. Gently.”

You gave the white cue ball a gentle push with the stick, just like you were told and lo and behold! The striped ball rolled towards the corner of the pool table, sinking into the net below.

“Yes!”

“Good girl.”

A shiver ran down your back and when you turned your head to the side, he still was dangerously curved over your body. Bradley met your glance, his gaze dropping to your lips for a second, stepping away when Phoenix cleared her throat.

“Uh, you okay to keep going, or…?”

“I think it’s time for me to head out, actually,” you said, eyes on Bradley. He blinked at you, confused for a second before realization dawned on him. Nodding enthusiastically, he grabbed the cue stick from your hand, dropping it on the pool table.

“Yeah, I think so too. Gonna hit the hay.”

“My god,” Phoenix muttered but you and Bradley were already heading out of the bar, his large hand splayed against the small of your back and you felt like you were going to explode soon. When you stepped out to the pebble-stoned parking lot in front, you turned around.

“Where’s your ca-”

The rest of your sentence turned to a yelp when Bradley grabbed you by the waist and pinned you against the car, crowding against you. His eyes were dark when he looked at you, grip tight on your body.

“Are you going to kiss me or what?”

Bradley chuckled, raising one of his hands to grab your chin gently before he leaned down to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you kissed him back, helplessly fisting his open shirt. It’s been a long time since you’ve been kissed like this.

“How about…” you muttered between kisses, before pulling away. “How about we take this somewhere else before we get arrested for public indecency?”

“I am sure you could talk your way out of being arrested,” Bradley pointed out before opening the car door next to you, clapping you on your ass.

“Get in.”

Somewhat petulantly, you got in the car, surprised by yourself how the way he spoke to you didn’t make you feel like a kid being ordered around. It kind of turned you on? Bradley got in the driver’s seat, immediately starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. Biting on your lip, you felt excitement thrumming through your entire body. Soon, you arrived at your rental and you barely waited until Bradley turned the engine before you jumped out of the car, getting a headstart to the front door.

When you got inside however, Bradley quickly spun you around, pushing your back against the door.

“Someone’s a bit eager, hm?” He whispered against your skin, slowly kissing down your throat. You whimpered softly, your eyes fluttering shut. Bradley’s hands wandered down your sides, until they disappeared down your dress. It didn’t take long for him to pull your panties down, making you gasp quietly.

“God, you’re soaking.”

Bradley scrunched up your panties in his hand, taking a whiff of them before shoving them in the pocket of his shirt. He grinned up at you, his index finger stroking the inside of your thigh.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”

“Your f-fingers, please,” you gasped out and the smirk he gave you was almost feral. He inched his hand higher, index finger stroking between your wet folds and you moaned out, laying your head against the door.

“Like this?”

“Exactly like this,” you gasped out, your toes curling when he stroked his fingers against the small bundle of nerves nestled in your cunt. All this time you’ve been staring at his hands, imagining how his fingers would feel in you and it was so much better. Bradley kept applying pressure against your cunt, before he curled his finger, slipping one digit inside you. You cried out a moan as he moved one finger in and out of you, before adding another.

“Got a little obsession with my hands, hm?” Bradley asked, his free hand curling around your bruised thigh, squeezing a bit.

“Gotta say, while I did not enjoy hurting you, I do like seeing my imprint on you.”

“M-me too,” you moaned, knees getting weaker by the second. Bradley hummed, his nose inching higher, until his head disappeared underneath your dress, and you nearly screamed out when you felt him licking your cunt. When he added his tongue to the mix, you knew you were done for.

“So close.”

“What was that?” Bradley asked, pulling his mouth away while his fingers kept pumping inside of you. You whined at the loss of his tongue, shaking your head.

“‘m gonna come.”

“Then come.”

With a gasp, you arched your back, your orgasm hitting you harder than you’d thought.Bradley pressed a gentle kiss on the bruise, the hairs of his mustache tickling against the sensitive skin, somehow only making you come harder. You slumped to your knees when the orgasm washed over, but Bradley was quick to catch you by the waist, holding you up.

“Awe, is someone getting tired?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice as he brushed your hair back, revealing your blissed out face. “‘cause I’m nowhere done with you, little miss.”

//

“Wow, look at you! Sun looks good on you.”

You had managed to extend your vacation days for seven more days after your two weeks were nearly up. Though it wasn’t nearly enough, it was better than nothing and Bradley made sure to make every single second worth your time. It was hard to leave him and the small life you had settled in Fightertown, but your actual life and job were waiting back in New York.

“It’s been really nice actually,” you chuckled, leaning on Ava’s desk. While you got along well with her, she was quite the office gossip so you had to watch what you’d say.

“I’ll say. I was surprised to hear that you’d requested another week. I thought for sure you were just waiting until the two mandatory weeks were over until you’d stand right back here, begging for a case file.”

“Ha! Well, I guess I got a taste of real life and liked it.”

“Oh shit, did you hurt yourself? How did you get that bruise?” Ava asked, pointing at the bruise around your wrist. With a smirk, you laid your hand around it, chuckling lightly.

Bradley’s grip on your wrists was tight, surely bruising later, but it wasn’t like you’d care. Your suitcase was packed, standing in the corner of the room, long forgotten as Bradley thrusted deeply in you, making you moan. His face was tucked in the crook of your neck, leaving small, peppering kisses on your skin as he snapped his hips against yours.

When both of you came down from your high, you were rubbing your wrists, giving him a look. “You know people are going to ask. And my co-workers aren’t as laid-back as yours.”

“Make up an excuse, that’s what you’re getting paid for, isn’t it?” Bradley smirked, leaning in to press a hard kiss against your lips. “

“I was flying a kite at the beach and the twine roped around my wrists, nothing major. Anyways, here’s my request. I need the last Thursday of September off.”

You handed Ava the slip and she raised a brow, filing it away. “Another day off?”

“Yeah, my boyfriend is getting a medal of valor and I’d like to be there.”

“Your what?”

Well, the cat was out of the bag now, wasn’t it?

author's note: eeek! don't forget to reblog besties!

🏷️list: @idiomaticpunk // @luckyladycreator2 // @littlebadariell // @labellapeaky // @solacestyles // @ssaic-jareau // @xoxabs88xox //

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw headcanon #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley’rooster’ bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x you #rooster x reader #top gun

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mercurywritesstuff · 3 months

Text

Love, Noona: Chapter 1

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pairing: Chan x fem!reader genre: smau, Forbidden love, Best friends sister trope, Idol x Idol pov: 1st person texts, 2nd person writing warnings: Swearing, suggestive-ish, typical sibling violence, drug mention summary: Chan has a one night stand with a girl he couldn't remember the name of, but he gets the shock of his life when the girl turns out to be his subordinate. Oh, and also she's Felix's older sister.

Taglist Status: Open! (36 spots available left) Taglist: @freyjhasdesiredreality, @partyparty-yah, @jediturtlelover, @highlydestiny, @lixie-phoria, @silverstarburst, @sandandstarz , @massivesoyeondelusion , @spiceyhamcat, @fishlane75, @gini143, @palindrome969, @lakoya, @i-dont-know-me-either

(Red names mean I cannot tag you for some reason) word count: 1.1k screenshot count: 7 Songs for this chapter: Girl on TV⋆ HONEY(ARE YOU COMING?)

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You had gone to the JYP building, face burning with shame. How could you let someone sleep with you as easily as he did, while drunk? Let alone your superior?? Don’t even mention the fact that he is her coworker and little brother’s best friend.

You felt awful for letting yourself get caught up on your horny feelings. Sure, you hadn’t had a partner for years, but that didn’t mean you could fuck the nearest thing that was somewhat interested in you. And to top it off, you completely lied to your friends. You remembered everything. The way his skin felt, and the pleasure he gave you.

God, you were pathetic.

Yong-Mi grabbed your arm, shaking you out of that self-deprecating headspace. Her mouth was moving, and it took you a second to register that it was Korean. Right, you know Korean.

“Unnie, are you listening?” Yong-Mi asked, looking into your dazed expression. Respond, damnit.

“Sorry, I was in my head a little. What happened?” You cursed yourself internally at the tone your voice took. It cracked slightly, wavering just a little. Yong-Mi didn’t seem fazed, however.

“I’ll grab water if you want to get the rest of the girls stretched and warmed up. Half of us is going into the studio while the other half is practicing with Danceracha.” Sometimes, Yong-Mi was more of a leader than you were. She would’ve been a better leader, you thought.

“Okay, sounds fun.” You forced a smile, and Yong-Mi gave you a look that she knew. She knew about the way you talked down to yourself. She pulled you into a hug, resting her chin on your head. Sometimes, you forget that you were considered tall for a female idol, and these are the times you forget. Yong-Mi always did that to you.

The moment you stepped into practice room eight, you had to cover your ears at the yelling rapping competition Sang-hee and Soo had to have. They were always so fucking loud.

“Unnie!” Jin-Ae, your youngest member, ran to you and ducked to give you a quick hug. She loved to give bits of skin ship, opposed to cuddles and long hugs, but not opposed to your side hugs.

“Girls!” Your voiced boomed; Soo and San-hee stopped almost immediately. The girls always did that, listen to you at the start of each workday. It was only a matter of time they would either get too hyper or too pissed off: either way, it was going to end with someone yelling.

“Thirty minutes till the boys get here. Time to warm up.”

⋆⋆⋆

Yong-mi joined five minutes after you started warming up the group. You had done ten minutes of yoga, and the rest of the time was spent copying some dances you guys found on the internet. Your group manager and personal manager, Ha-Yoon and So-mi respectively, joined sometime in the mix. They were filming for the YouTube docuseries JYP had oh-so-graciously thought of. Great, now you must be professional even in your down-time.

A knock rapped three times, causing the eight of you to quiet down, standing as the door opened. One-by-one, eight grown men filled the room, and when the eight were in, you all bowed to greet them. Except you.

Your eyes zeroed in on Chan, your face flushing. Yong-Mi had to physically make you bow, you had frozen. Chan seemed to have the same effect you had. His face flushing at the sight of you, eyes widening with recognition. You bent down to grab your water, taking large gulps. You caught movement in the corner of your eyes, and you found Felix booking it for you.

“Felix, no, I have water-” And just like that, your water is spilt on the ground and you're cradling your grown but younger brother. He was laughing in his deep voice, to which you narrowed your eyes. He realized her fucked up, but before he could say anything, you dropped him on his ass. He groaned, mixed with his laughter. You couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“Y/nnnie that hurt~” He whined, and you raised an eyebrow at his pouting face. Growing up with him, his puppy dog eyes always worked on you. Not now, though. You had Jin-Ae to thank for that. And Sun-Hee. Everyone except Yong-Mi, you were immune to their puppy dog eyes.

“Well, it wouldn’t have hurt if you weren’t such a galah.” You had spoken in English, your members looking at you confused at the slang word. You only used Korean in the group, being the only English speaker. Felix whined again. “Apologize to me and the poor water bottle you forced me to spill.” You smirked, playing with him to see how far he would go.

“Sorry, noona.” He spat, getting a chortle in response from you. You helped him up, before wiping the dust off his pants.

“Y’know, you really shouldn’t speak to your superior like that, Y/nnnie.” Felix smirked.

“I will make it very embarrassing for you in front of your friends, Yongbok.” You held up your fist and grounded it into the palm of your hand; a threat that you wouldn’t mind going through with.

He squeaked, running up to Hyunjin. They were all prettier in person, cameras not really giving them justice. You remembered the first time you saw them perform, and you were awestruck by your little brother and his group. You had wished to find a group like his when you debuted. In a way, you did. But God, were they like little kids when not working.

⋆⋆⋆

“Okay! Soo, Sun-Hi, Su-Bin, and Jin, you will go with Bang Chan, Han, Lee know, and Changbin seonbaenim to the studio. The rest of you guys, you’re with me.” You had ordered your group, all listening intently.

“Haha,” Sang-Hee giggled, and you glared at her to calm down. She rolled her eyes back, before doing a little dance. You smiled a little, much to your dismay.

You and Chan had yet to interact, which you were grateful for. You could barely look at the man before you were filled with too much embarrassment.

How were you going to work with him for the next three months?

...

Chan was freaking out. Sure, he hadn’t remembered the girl from the night before that much, only remembering how she smelt, how she tasted. But looking at the leader from PLAYground, all those memories came flying back. Oh, God. He was screwed.

He excused himself to the bathroom, letting Han take over for the recording part. He sat in the private room, trying to quell the memories away. He did not want to look at his colleague that way. His subordinate. His best friend’s sister.

How was he going to survive these next months?

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71 notes · View notes

tightjeansjavi · 1 year

Text

𝕓𝕝𝕦𝕖 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕟’𝕋𝕖𝕩𝕒𝕤 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤

𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟜

Whiskey N’Cokes & Shitty Ex-Boyfriends

♡ 𓃗 ♡

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Pre!Oubreak Joel x horseback riding instructor f!reader

~word count : 4.9k~

Summary: Joel Miller, single father; total soft dad has an astronomically enormous crush on you, his daughters horseback riding instructor.

Warnings: soft! Joel, shy! Joel, horny!awkward!Joel, protective! Joel, is doing his best!Joel, fluff, flirting, slow burn, sexual tension, brief horny thoughts, no use of (y/n), some angst, minor injury to a horse, some mentions of blood and stitching up a wound, triggering themes at the end, brief mentions of animal abuse (not by Joel or the reader but by the readers ex) if this is something triggering for you, please proceed with caution and do not read. (+18) minors dni!

blue jeans playlist:

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Austin, Texas

It had started off as any other normal Wednesday. You were at the barn till around 5, turning the horses out to pasture for the evening. There was talk of a big storm rolling through later in the night. Most would believe that keeping the horses out in the pasture, through that kind of weather, would be cruel. However, they were far safer out in an open space, than crammed in their stalls. Horses were more likely to get injured in their stalls, versus being out in the pasture. Injuries could be sustained anywhere.

Your boys were pretty used to the elements, sans Frankie. He had Ezra to watch over him, and keep him calm at least but you worried about that horse more than you cared to admit.

Despite your concerns, you knew you had to leave and head home to change and start your second job; bartending.

Owning horses, let alone 6, was costly. Between vet bills, grain, supplements and hay, you had no other choice but to find another source of income. Everyday after working at the barn, you’d work a few hours at the local bar. Tips were good at least and you knew the owner pretty well. Weekends you’d work the late shift despite the owner telling you to go out and live a little.

In your eyes, the horses would always come before anything else. They were your main priority.

Business was steady for the next few hours, most of your customers were locals, but there would be the stray tourist every now and then.

The men would flirt with you and you’d laugh it off each time. You couldn’t help the fact that you were just a naturally bubbly individual.

You were pouring a Long Island iced tea for a local college student when your handsome, Texas tall glass of water strode in. You didn’t see him at first, you were too busy taking the next customer's order but boy, did he see you.

The town was small, and almost everyone knew each other, so he shouldn’t have been that surprised to see you behind the bar top at his favorite joint. He was, however, frozen on the spot momentarily. How lucky he was to get to see you outside your element, to be in your presence.

Yes, Joel Miller had an astronomical fucking crush on you.

Did he unashamedly check you out from where he stood? He did indeed. The first thing he noticed was your black fitted tee, it hugged you in all the right places, leaving just enough to his imagination. However when he saw you reach for a bottle on the top shelf, in the tightest pair of jean shorts his eyes ever had the pleasure of seeing, his breath hitched in his throat.

Jesus age Christ, you looked good in just about anything. For a brief moment, Joel thought about how pretty you’d look flushed against him, ass to his crotch, and—fuckin’ hell, Joel. Keep it together man. This is your daughter's horseback riding instructor for fuck sakes.

He still had time to turn back around, leave the bar while he still had the chance. Now, wouldn’t that just be a little too easy? Tommy had urged him earlier that day to go out and live a little. Joel didn't do too much with his time outside of work, and taking care of Sarah. Work and his daughter were his main priority.

He didn’t turn around and leave the bar. His brain was quite literally screaming at him to leave. Go home, and pretend he never saw you here. Instead, his boot clad feet were already moving to the open seat at the bartop.

He waited till you were close enough to hear him, to even perhaps feel his presence from where you were fixing together another Texas style margarita. He turned his nose up at the amount of sugar he imagined was inhabited in that excuse for a drink. It smelled, and looked like an impending hangover waiting to happen.

“Fancy seein’ you here tonight darlin’.

There it was, that familiar, warm southern drawl that sent your heart, and brain for a loop. Your handsome, Texas tall glass of water was sitting at your bartop.

“Joel?” To say you were surprised to see him here was an understatement.

He looked around, his eyes wandering around the bar area as if there possibly was another man named Joel that you could be speaking of.

“That’s my name, darlin’ I don’t see any other Joel’s ‘round here. Do you?” He mused.

You made eye contact with him after handing the girl her drink. You wiped your hands along a towel, tucking it into the belt loop of your shorts as you stood in front of him. “Nope, you’re the only Joel Miller that I know. Consider yourself special.”

He grinned up at you. Those stupid big brown eyes of his detected how flustered you were and you wanted to smack him with your little notebook. Did he really need to be wearing that tight of a flannel? Wasn’t he hot? it was absolutely boiling outside—

“I Take it you're surprised to see me? The feelin’ is mutual. Been comin’ to this place for years and ain’t ever seen you here.”

“Maybe you just weren’t looking hard enough.”

“Find that hard to believe when you’re pretty damn hard to miss. This your hobby or somethin’?”

“Unfortunately, no. This is actually my second form of income. Taking care of 6 horses is costly, so I bartend everyday after work, and take the late shifts on the weekends.”

“Wow. No kiddin’? You ever make time for yourself? Pretty thing like you, hanging out with these old geezers?” He didn’t know where his sudden boldness came from, but as soon as the word ‘pretty’ slipped past his plush lips, he could feel his face and neck heating up from his confession.

Did Joel Miller just call you pretty? It must have been the heat getting to his head. Yeah, that’s the logical reason behind it.

“Well, these old geezers tip pretty well. Sometimes I’ll throw in a little extra smile, and maybe a wink or two. Whatever pays the bills, right?”

You watched as Joel brought his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously. You could see the sweat beading along his forehead and it looked like at any second now one of those damn buttons were going to burst along the seams.

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that they tip ya well. So then you don’t go and hang out with friends n’stuff like that? Or like a boyfriend or somethin’ You got one of those?” Please say no. He silently thought to himself.

You raised an eyebrow in his direction, crossing your arms over your chest and when he got just a glimpse, a mere taste of your cleavage, you could see the muscle of his broad biceps, twitch and stretch the worn fabric of his ridiculously tight flannel.

“On a very rare occasion I’ll meet my friends for drinks. As for if I have a boyfriend or not? I don’t. Unfortunately, I have an ex that comes around here every now and then. If I have one word of advice for you Joel, it’s to never shit where you eat.”

So you didn’t have a boyfriend and by the sounds of it, you were over your ex which means..let’s not get ourselves carried away here. For all Joel knows, you don’t think of him in any way outside of a professional stance. He was going to have to play this cool. Last thing he wanted to do was potentially scare you away.

“Ahh. The classic workplace romance? How’d you manage to get caught up in that? If you don’t mind me askin’ of course. Don’t wanna intrude.”

You laughed and uncrossed your arms from your chest. “I’ll give you a quick rundown, but first, can I get you something to drink?”

“Whiskey and coke.” He stated his order smoothly, like he had it a 100 times before. It was a classic choice, sweet with some boldness, and very much what you expected Joel to order.

“On a school night Miller? What would Sarah think?” You lightly teased. Grabbing a glass as you fixed together his drink.

He responded with a light chuckle, leaning back against the bartop stool, stretching his flannel even more. “Well, actually my younger brother Tommy is watchin’ her for the night. He actually suggested that I get out and live a little tonight so here I am.”

“Starting the night off strong with a good old whiskey and coke. I like your style, Miller.” You slid the glass over to him with a wink.

he nearly folded in that goddamn chair right then and there. Your wink alone was giving him heart palpitations. “I hate to break it to ya, but I ain’t much of a partier darlin’. Those days are long over for me.”

“Oh bullshit you aren’t. How old are you anyway? I mean, you don’t look like an old man by any means.”

Holy fuck. Now you were being the ballsy one. It was apparent that you brought it out of each other, in the best way possible.

He raised a brow at you over the rim of his glass, taking a long sip, his eyes locked on yours. “I appreciate you sayin’ I don’t look like an old man darlin'. I’m 34, but who’s really countin’ right? Sarah will probably tell ya that I have to wear diapers soon.”

You giggled, and it was the sweetest fucking sound Joel’s ears had ever heard. Fucking adorable, like seriously. You were so goddamn cute and he felt like a little school boy meeting his crush on the playground for the first time. Giggles and whispers would be shared as you would swing on the swing set together. Dream, soar, pretending you were two birds flying above the clouds as your swings would go higher, and higher—

“Damn, I wasn’t going to put you a day past 25. Now, don’t you go and let that get to your head, alright? I’m not giving out flattery for free over here.”

“I’m touched that you think I’m that young darlin’. Not that 34 isn’t young, but I’m startin’ to feel it in my back and it’s a fuckin’ pain in my ass.” He took another long sip before he set the glass down, keeping his hand lightly grasped around it because the cooling condensation was the only thing keeping him sane at that moment.

“The evil 30’s, and the impending back pain that comes along with it, truly is such a bitch.”

He cleared his throat as he looked up at you. He was curious to know how old you were as well. He had his speculations that you weren’t that far off from his age. “What about you darlin’? How old are you?”

“Just turned 30 this March. Who’s really counting though, like you said.”

“Damn, sugar. So you’re a cougar then? Wait, no. I’ve gotten that all wrong sweetheart. What would I be called, a manther? Is that even a thing? He asked suggestively, his tone came across in a teasing manner.

This had you reaching out and lightly swatting his bicep with your hand at his suggestion.

“A cougar, really Joel? We’re 4 years apart, and you did get that all wrong. I’d have to be older than you to be considered a cougar. Maybe Sarah was right about you needing diapers soon, you dork. Besides, I’d have to be attracted to you in the first place—”

“Ouch. So you ain’t got a smidge of attraction to me? Not even just a little? Woundin’ me darlin.’ You’ve absolutely just gone and shattered my poor poor soul.” He dramatically clenched his fist against his chest, mocking the expression of pain from your words.

Although, it did sting a little, and he wondered if he had crossed a boundary with you unintentionally.

Oh god, was he just messing with you? Was he being serious? You were dumbly attracted to this man. You were feeling like a little school girl with a crush.

“Joel I’m sorry I didn’t mean—”

“Oh, just spare me the details and twist the knife a little deeper why don’t ya?”

You were visibly mortified as you stumbled over your words, trying to change the conversation.

“So, we’ve been flirtin’ with each other this entire time, and nothin? Just a little game we’re playin? Well, you got me grippin’ the edge of my seat darlin', that's for damn sure.”

You took a deep breath, weighing out your options as you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

“Okay. Yes, I find you to be attractive. This is definitely not how I wanted to put it out there but hey, what do I really have to lose right?”

“I’m sorry darlin’ I didn’t mean to make you feel like you needed to admit to it or anythin’ did I cross a line? I’m sorry. That was honestly a dick move on my part. I just think you’re really pretty and—”

“Joel, breathe. You didn’t cross a line or anything, I just haven’t had a crush on anyone in a really long time. So this just feels like new territory for me at the moment.”

“The feeling is absolutely mutual. S’cute that you got a crush on me though. Got a crush on you too. Got a crush on my daughters fuckin’ horse back ridin’ instructor.”

“What are we, 10 years old or something?” You giggled.

“Yep. We most definitely are. Gonna go home later and scribble your name all over my notebook with hearts n’shit around it.”

“Oh god, are you really?”

“There’s a high possibility darlin.’”

Both of your attention was drawn to one of the many tv’s in the bar. This specific one was showing the weather broadcast, and it did not look good at all. You immediately thought of Frankie and the rest of the horses.

“Shit.” You spoke suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” He tore his eyes from the TV as he looked back at you, a sense of worry stuck across his handsome face.

“This storm is going to be worse than I thought. The horses will be okay, and I have them turned out for the night but Frankie—”

“Doesn’t handle loud and sudden noises well.” Joel stated. He wasn’t kidding when he told you that he remembered every last detail about all 6 of your horses.

“Yeah. I’m sure he’s gonna be alright but I just..I worry about him so I’m gonna need to go and check on them before it gets worse out there. Hey, Joel? Can you just hang out here for a second? I’m gonna go ask my boss if I can cut out early.”

“Course darlin’. I ain’t goin’ anywhere. I can promise you that.”

You responded with a nod, leaving the bar top as you went and briefly told your manager the situation at hand. He let you clock out, and you reappeared with your bag over your shoulder. Joel already had his keys out, twirling them around his finger.

“C’mon let’s go. Hopefully the storm lets up till we get there. I might bring him and Ezra in for the night if that ends up being the case.”

“I’ve got my truck out front. I’ll drive, okay?”

“Perfect. I can just get my car later or something.”

The two of you headed out into the parking lot. The sky was pitch black, and you both could smell the approaching storm in the air as low rumbles of thunder were heard in the distance.

Joel was a total gentleman. He not only held the bar door open for you, but he was quick to open the passenger side door and give you a little boost. Despite the situation at hand, feeling his hands on your waist for a brief moment, sent a welcoming chill down your spine.

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The drive to the barn was a quick one. Joel had glanced over in your direction briefly just as it had started to lightly rain and a bright flash of white hot lightning lit up the midnight black sky.

You were in a haste as he parked in the lot, you had the barn keys in hand as you rushed inside the building. Joel was close behind you as you made a quick stop at the tack room, grabbing Frankie and Ezra’s halters from their labeled hooks. Just as you were pulling open the back barn doors, the skies opened up and released a torrential downpour.

You nearly gave Joel whiplash with how fast you ran past him. Grabbing two flashlights, and two raincoats from your office. You threw him a flashlight along with the rain jacket as you slipped your muck boots on. “Well? You gonna come out there with me?” You looked at him expectantly.

“We don’t have much of a choice, right?” He turned the flashlight on before he slipped his arms through the sleeves of the raincoat.

“We don’t.” You confirmed.

The two of you headed out into the storm and were immediately smacked with the whipping rain. Your vision was blinded as you trudged through the muddy grass with your flashlights, and lightning strikes from above as your guideway.

You tucked your own flashlight under your armpit as you unlocked the pasture gate and pushed it open before trudging inside. It didn’t take you long to find 5 out of 6 horses huddled under the standing structure. Ezra gave you a gentle nicker when you shined your flashlight on him.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Joel, Frankie isn't here!”

Joel was already soaked to the bone despite the rain jacket and he too counted only 5 horses.

“Well he’s gotta be out there somewhere, right?”

You both heard a loud whinny coming from the back area of the pasture and before Joel could even stop you, you were running out from under the structure and towards the sound of the whinny.

“Darlin’! Wait!” He yelled out to you through the pounding rain.

Joel found you with a frightened Frankie against the far corner of the fence. He had sustained a decent sized gash along his front left cannon bone. It wasn’t deep enough to be severe but he would need medical attention.

Joel then saw the crack in the wooden fence where Frankie seemingly tried to escape from and was unsuccessful.

Despite the whipping wind, and pounding rain, you were gently talking to the frightened animal as you managed to get his halter and lead rope secured around him. “Easy now boy. I got you. You’re okay fella. Shh. Shh. Shh.” You gently stroked his neck as another bright flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed by a loud crack of thunder that had the fence trembling.

From where Joel was standing, he could see the whites of Frankie’s eyes from the flash of lightning.

“Darlin’! Is he hurt?!”

You started to carefully and slowly lead Frankie away from the fence. You had no choice but to take your time as he was limping due to the injury he sustained. “It’s okay Frankie. You’re okay fella. Gonna get you inside and fixed up? Alright? Good boy.”

When you were close enough to where Joel could hear you, you called out to him. “He’s got a decent gash on his front left cannon bone but it’s not deep. Just need to get him inside and I’ll take care of it. Can you put Ezra’s halter on and bring him in as well? They’re buddies.”

“Shit. He’s hurt? I don’t know darlin’ I’ve never—”

“Joel, please! I can’t bring them both in myself.” You briefly halted Frankie before sliding Ezra’s halter off your shoulder and handed it to Joel. “You can do this Joel, I know you can.”

Joel took the halter and lead rope from you and gave you a brief nod before he turned on his heel, and headed back to the standing structure. He walked inside and used his flashlight to locate Ezra from the others. Your horse was such a good boy he was already walking towards Joel, lowering his head so he could slip the halter on. “Hey, fella. Your friend is injured, and your mom said I gotta bring you inside with him. Can you help me out here? Cause I ain’t got a fuckin’ clue what I’m doin.’”

Ezra nickered softly in response, stopping in front of your yet-to-be-boyfriend. Joel remembered that the round part went around Ezra’s nose as he slipped it on. “Alright fella, this part goes over your ears, right? Yeah, I think so.” He slipped the headpiece of the halter over Ezra’s ears, and clasped the metal buckle through the metal ring.

Once he was confident that he had done it right, he grasped the lead rope in his hands and urged Ezra forward. By the time he had the halter secured, you and Frankie were close behind. Joel waited till you could walk alongside each other. He didn’t care about the rain, or the mud. He just wanted to make sure you and Frankie were safe.

Once the four of you were safely back inside the barn, you carefully hooked the crossties up to Frankie’s halter and had Joel put Ezra into Dieters stall Temporarily, as it was the closest to where Frankie was.

Joel watched as you tossed your soaking wet rain coat to the ground. You were completely zoned in on the task at hand as you disappeared into your office, grabbing all the medical supplies you needed for this minor wound.

“I’m gonna need you to gently hold his face while I’m doing this, okay? I’m gonna have to flush the wound out first, then apply some numbing cream to the surrounding area and then stitch him up.”

Joel watched as you grabbed the hose from the other side of the stall and turned the pressure on low, gently flushing out any dirt or debris from the gash along Frankie’s leg.

“He’s gonna be okay, right?”

You looked up at Joel from where you were crouched down and gave him a nod. “Yeah, he’ll be alright. It didn’t go deep, thankfully. Could have been a lot worse. He’s just gonna need some stall rest for a few days. He’ll be fine though Joel, don’t worry.”

After you flushed the wound out, you grabbed a white tub of numbing cream, dragging your fingers through the thick paste before you gently applied it to the area around the wound to numb it.

Frankie had side stepped from your touch, but Joel was right there, speaking softly to him and you felt a small smile tug on your lips as you heard him say, “Easy, fella. You’re alright. You’re doing great. Your mom is gonna fix you right up, just like she promised.” He cooed.

Once you finished applying the antiseptic cream, you started to suture the gash along Frankie’s leg. You were grateful for Joel, and his kind words, and soft tone as he spoke to Frankie.

Once you were finished, you wrapped Frankie’s leg in a specific bandage casing and let Joel lead him into his stall. You gave him antibiotics mixed into his grain and a few flakes of hay.

“Thank you so much for coming with me. I really don’t think I could have managed this on my own, Joel. I’m grateful that you were here.”

Joel looked over at you as he gave Frankie a gentle pat, stepping out of his stall and closed the stall door behind him.

“Of course, darlin’. It was no trouble at all. It’s a good thing my brother encouraged me to go out and live a little tonight, huh?”

“If I ever get the chance to meet him, I’ll personally thank him.” You let out a sigh, feeling exhausted from the situation. You were caked in mud and your hands were stained with Frankie’s blood.

“You uh—need me to do anythin’ else?”

“Yeah, can you grab a few flakes of hay for Ezra? I don’t think we can go anywhere in this storm, so we’ll have to wait it out. I’ll go grab us a couple of beers from the fridge in my office. It’ll make the time go by faster.”

“Sure, darlin’. No problem at all. I can handle that.”

Joel went to grab a few flakes of hay while you walked down to your office, grabbing a few towels and two beers from your mini fridge.

You set the towels down against Frankie’s and Ezra’s temporary stall for the night.

You sunk down against the towel, resting your head against the stall door and Joel joined you shortly after. He looked over at you and could just see the exhaustion etched into your face as you had your eyes closed. His shoulder lightly brushed yours as he sank down beside you, grabbing your beer and snapped the top off before grabbing his own.

“I almost forgot to tell you about my ex.” You finally spoke, peeking your eyes open to look over at him. You grabbed your beer, lightly tapping the rim against his, before you brought it up to your lips and took a swig.

He mirrored your actions, taking a small sip of his as he rested his head against the stall door, turning his head to look at you. “Only if you wanna tell me ‘bout him. Don’t feel like you’re pressured or anythin’, okay?”

“Nah, he’s a loser anyway. Like truly, a loser. Anyway, he followed me out here from California years ago. We dated all throughout highschool, and I thought we were gonna get married. Honestly, I think I was expected to marry him, but I’m glad that I never did. His family is big in the horse business as well. He mainly did western stuff and some events in the rodeo. Whiskey, actually used to be his up until 6 months ago.”

Joel was listening to you intently, his eyes stayed focused on your face and something was telling him that your ex was gonna turn out to be a real asshole. He just had this inclination to believe it.

“He didn’t…do anything to Whiskey, did he?”

You let out a sigh, taking another deep, long swig of your beer, letting it settle in your gut. “Not to Whiskey, no. Remember how I said Javi P has a deep distrust of men, for obvious reasons?”

“I remember you tellin’ me about that darlin’”

“Well, he thought Javi P was deemed as a dangerous horse. He didn’t want me to be around him and well, you can imagine how I took that. So, not only did he try to sell him back to slaughter, behind my back, He was fucking hitting him Joel. I couldn’t believe it. Literally. I was bringing a potential new client in for a tour, and we’re coming around the corner and I hear this noise, right? He’s literally punching Javi P in the face and then he gets bit.”

“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me sweetheart. Please tell me that you’re jokin.’ Who the fuck does that to an animal?” Joel was seething from where he sat next to you.

“I wish I was joking Joel. I really wish I was. Anyway, I caught him in the act, called the cops and he was arrested on the spot. He’s charged with animal neglect, charged a fine and he makes fucking bail. His parents bailed him out. However, I have a restraining order against him and he can’t come within a hundred yards of this place. Whiskey was signed over to me shortly after.”

“What a fuckin’ piece of shit. His parents bailed him out too? They’re no fuckin’ better than he is. What a sick fuck.”

You placed your hand along Joel’s bicep, gently squeezing it to bring him back to earth.

“He is a piece of shit, and his parents are no better, but he’s a fucking loser and he’s never gonna be able to redeem himself. I obviously felt betrayed, and heartbroken when it went down because I did love him, but the horses were there to bring me back up.”

“I don’t care, I’m still terribly sorry that you had to go through that shit. Poor Whiskey and Javi P too. That dude deserves so much better. He’s lucky that he has you.”

“That’s why I’ve been working so much with him cause I want to teach him some good for once in his fucking life, you know? He’s got a big personality but he’s such a good horse. I know he is.”

“If anyone is able to get through to him, I’m sure it’s gonna be you sweetheart.”

By the time you and Joel had finished off your beers, it was past 1 a.m and the storm hadn’t let up. He was telling you a story about him and his brother Tommy, back in his younger years, when you had dozed off. Your head came to gently rest upon his shoulder. He froze, not wanting to disturb you in your slumber. He ever so carefully, brought his arm around your shoulders so you could use it as your own personal pillow. He didn’t even care when his arm started to ache from the position it was in. He just wanted you to be comfortable.

Sometime after, he found himself turning his head, gently resting his chin along the top of your head, listening to the sounds of Frankie, and Ezra chewing their hay, nickering to each other, and the sound of the rain pounding on the metal roof.

Joel soon dozed off to the feeling of your soft breaths fanning his cheek, sending a warmth creeping down his spine, and a soft smile spread across his lips.

Part 5:

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yuyu1024 · 4 months

Text

Darling

Pairings: Seonghwa × y/n

Genre/tags: friends and more

Warning: 🔞🔞 smut/angst, cursing, sensual touching/making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, semi public, bj [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.2k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: likes and reblogs much appreciated ⭐️

Check pinned post for more✨️

****

Half asleep, you wake up early in the morning to force yourself to jog. You've been slacking with it for the past month already. School have really messed up your routine.

Before you go and get ready to wash your face up, you decided to go down the kitchen first to grab a glass or water and prepare the tumbler you will be carrying for the run.

It's still a bit dark and again, half asleep, that you didn't find it weird that when you entered the kitchen area, the lampshade near the dining table is on. So when a deep ass voice started speaking behind you, you almost dropped down on the floor and faint.

"Fuck!" You gasp as you finally see it was Seonghwa. "You scared the shit out of me." Your hands on your chest and trying to collect yourself

"I didn't mean to..." he say then leans his lower back on the island counter top. "You're up early." His arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm going for a run... need to release some stress..." you say as you open the fridge and grab a bottle of water. "You?"

"I'm horny." He spat, making you almost choke on the water your drinking

You wipe your mouth. "W-what did you say?!?"

He puts his index finger over his plump, rosy lips. "Sshh... they are still asleep."

He is pertaining to your brother, Wooyoung, and the other boys. Some is sleeping up stairs in Wooyoung's room while Yunho and probably San is sleeping in the guestroom downstairs since they were up all night playing video games.

It's the beginning of summer so they are all in your house, having some boys slumber party. And they will be here for a few more days.

"You guys drank a lot last night... why are you awake now?"

"Again....as I said..." he stands up straight and lips curved in a small smile. "I'm horny... if you don't get that... It means I want sex... I want to fuck... I want..." he's moving closer and closer to you until your back touches the fridge. "I want to eat you..."

Your bodies are close to each other that you could actually feel his hardness through his pajamas and yours.

"W-why... me?"

"C'mon darling..." he leans down to whisper, "you know why... you've been teasing me since yesterday..."

You blush at the thought. Yes. You actually did. Not gonna lie, maybe it's because you had a few drinks too but not to the point your drunk. It just became liquid courage for you.

You've been crushing on him for more than a year now. He's been friends with your brother for so long. But you have no idea where this crush actually began. You thought it was just nothing until it got solidified more than a year ago.

How can you not like Seonghwa? He's sweet, kind, caring, passionate and such a good friend and person in general. Plus he's good looking and smart. And probably, one thing you like about him too is his naughty side.

But this KIND of naughty, is new to you.

"Wearing a a fitted top and those tiny shorts of yours?" He tugs your hair behind your ear before he takes you by your chin and make you look at him. "And when we were playing games... you make sure I get to have a good view of your ass and then brushing your chest onto my arm purposely..." he leans in again, lips close to your ear. "Just thinking about it makes me hard and ready to burry my d!ck in your pu$sy."

Oh shit. Your knees weakened a little. He sound so fucking sexy.

"What do you say? Darling... should we try... if you could take my d!ck well?"

His eyes are burning. He's different from the Seonghwa you see often. This is intense. In a good way.

"Ahm..." your breathing is all over the place as his hands begins to roam around your body.

"Give me your consent, darling." He pushes his pelvis to you more. His fucking hard as rock. "I've been wanting to fuck you since last night... but the boys are night owls and I can't find the timing to pull you out of your bed."

You are shaking and excited at the same time.

"What do you want to do?"

He smirks devilishly. "I want to fuck that beautiful mouth of yours first... would you like to try?"

You suddenly got brave and cup his bulge. "Feed me." You tease before you tip toe and go for a kiss.

His eyes widens after the cute peck you gave him but then the warmth in his eyes changes to something dark.

"Go down on your knees." He orders

Your mouth goes dry. This is your first time doing something like this. You've dated a few boys but didn't got to this. Seonghwa is a man and you're not a little girl anymore too. Making out is just basic. This is more than basic.

Slowly pulling down his pajama pants down, you almost choked on nothing as you see it clearly and close up. The length. The veins. The redness. The leaking tip.

"Fuck." You hiss as you grab him using both hands. "Wow..." You quietly move forward and begin to taste him.

You tongue run from the bottom to the tip. Feeling those edges that are so freaking beautiful that makes you wonder how it will feel if he puts it inside of you.

"Ugh... ah... that's it... ahhh...holy shit..." Seonghwa is moaning, nonstop as you let your tongue play around his length. "Fuck! darling, I never knew... you'd be this..." he pauses as he felt the warmth of your mouth. "Ohhh yes..."

You bop your head, sucking and licking every bits of him making him crazy. You're making sure he'll be wanting more from you or if not, will never forget the service you've given him.

"Y/n!" He cries. He puts his hands on the fridge for support. "Damn it!"

He pulls you up from your knees and start to make out with you.

"Fuck!" He looks at you, eye to eye. "You're not wearing a bra?" His hand is on your right boob, squeezing. He could feel how turned on you are under the shirt you are wearing. The tip is very hard and pointy. "8 guys... 7... less Woo...in this house and you're not wearing... a fucking bra? Do you know how dangerous this is?"

You smile putting your arms around his neck. "Do you want me to put on a bra or you'd want to taste it?"

A wide devilish grin spread across his lips. "You one naughty little princess..." he licks his lower lips and grinds his exposed length to your still covered core. "You'd regret turning me on even more... coz' darling... I'd bet you can not go jogging after I'm finished with you."

"Give it a go then..." you glance at the wall clock in the kitchen. "We have less than a hour before sunrise... before my parents and the rest of the boys wake up..."

He growls at your challenge. "Alright then..." he adjusts your positions and making you face the countertop. "Bend over..." he orders "and make sure to keep quiet..."

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jvnluvr · 1 year

Text

torn lies ; itoshi sae ♡

author’s note: i came up with a something on a whim today after my lovely follower @uvbnr21-killer requested so i'm sorry it took a bit. nobody saw the first post, i forgot to add tags so i deleted it and now am rewriting it. kaiser angst would hurt my soul, but sae fits this perfectly. i'm so nervous & scared because i never write angst so i hope this is okay.

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itoshi sae couldn't, wouldn't and will never understand you. maybe that's why he keeps coming back into your life.

itoshi sae x f!reader

notes: foul language, implied toxic relationship, reader has anxiety and hand tremors, sae acts like he's innocent when he's not, ft. isagi and rin

"i understand. now say it with me, we're gonna be okay.”

that was the last lie itoshi sae could say to you.

how long had it been? with how busy your life had become, itoshi sae was just a distant thought in the back of your mind. a man you wished you had never met, never wanted, or never had been with. how could a man, even like him, be so heartless? you knew him, you knew that wasn't him, but that doesn't mean he was going to change.

as much as you could have dwelled upon it, cried about it, have gotten angry about it, and all these other complex emotions humans could feel, there was simply no point. itoshi sae has been long gone, and life had made other plans. you became a professional athlete, just like itoshi-. wait, you just said you would stop thinking about him.

see, that was the entire problem. taking the same career path of the man who was once yours just made you think about him more. your mind was tainted with the thought of sae. you couldn't keep living like this, life was already miserable as is. you couldn't go out in public without having to hide away like you were an embarrassment. nobody knew, but they knew. they knew from the way you would rarely come out in public anymore, the way cameras caught your hands tremoring trying to talk to interviewers.

…

"can't you just leave me the fuck alone?”

"i’m your girlfriend for fuck's sake! you can talk to me for 5 minutes a day if you're really that busy."

"yeah? 'know what, you aren't worth those 5 extra fucking minutes.

…

what came after that was more yelling, then it came to tears, and finally, you left what you had once called home, what you had once called your forever. you slammed an awakening in itoshi sae's face before you left, for good.

"[name]! tell us how you feel about the upcoming match." an interviewer asked, shoving the mic close to your lips. "i think it'll be good." you let out a very monotoned voice, signaling that your anxiety was starting to get worse again. "ah, please share some more thoughts with-"

"oh look! it's itoshi sae!! why is he here?" your eyes widened as you followed the voice, and it came from all across the area. " think she'll leave with us, thanks for your time." a smooth, yet deep voice replied near your ear before you were dragged away. you already knew who it was, so you looked back once last time, seeing the interviewer run off in the voice's direction.

"everyone is obsessed with him, it makes me sick." you sighed out, your breathing starting to get shallower. “thanks for dragging me out of there.” the man let you go, letting you sink to the ground and hug your knees. "stupid media people, forget them. how are you feeling?” isagi yoichi asked, crouching down to meet your pained eyes.

"'Il be fine, jus' hope this fuckin' tremors stop before i have to go on." your hands were burning. not because of the tremors, nor was it because of isagi. because every single thing you did reminded you of itoshi sae. you were more than just frustrated because of this, so you couldn't help but try and rip your hair out as your eyes watered.

"fuckin' asshole, how could he say that even 5 minutes for me was a waste of his time," you mumbled, not wanting to lose your composure in such a public place. "sae-san will never change, [name]. you deserve a lot better anyway. c'mon, the other guys are waiting for you." he held your hands as he helped you get up, but it was all mindless movement in your eyes. walking into the stadium, across the bleachers, everything felt blank.

itoshi sae is the worst.

how could he do such a thing?

was that really the sae you fell in love with?

no, he'll come back, right?

he didn't mean it.

whatever, fuck him anways.

an inner monologue with yourself that always bought you to shreds. what point was there in constantly being in a stage of denial when the evidence was right in your hollow eyes? you so desperately wished for your feelings to change, for your heart to not crave, desire, to want to love itoshi sae. but he always walked away. away from his friends, his family, from you.

"[name?] is it sae again?' itoshi rin snapped you out of your trance again. you blinked widely a couple times, before your tired eyes met rin's. '''t wouldn't usually be this bad, stupid fuckin' guy decided to waltz into here today." you grumbled to him, in which he sighed.

"sorry, [name.] even i don't know why he keeps coming back. it's best if you just ignore him though. sae doesn't actually care, we've seen."

yeah, itoshi sae doesn't care about you.

…

then why his is gaze so warm?

you're on the field, staring into the crowds of people when you see him. you could only manage a second of eye contact, but immediately you felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

…

"don't do that."

"do what, [name]?"

"don't look at me like you still care.”

…

"good game out there today, [name]."

"you don't mean it. why are you back?" you could feel the tremors coming back, despite your best efforts to control them.

"tch, i'm not allowed to tell someone 'good job?"'

"should you fuckin' be allowed to break someone's heart? no! but ya did it anyway. now get out of my sight, stupid egoist." it's vicious, but it's also been long overdue.

[name], it's been so long, why are you still hung up-"

"you're an asshole who ruined my life, all because you're a narcissist, self-centered and close-minded. you want me to spell out more?"

for once, your voice stood against him.

his eyes widened, an unmistakable look in his eyes saying that he didn't expect that, not out of you.

and for the first time, you walked away from itoshi sae.

#itoshi sae #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock imagines #blue lock itoshi sae #bllk x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae x you #blue lock angst

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ask-healingsunny · 10 months

Note

heh.

you really ARE like that old lady.

you see, she used to be a mom.

that same love and care...

i can tell you've got that for your bro.

wonder if it's just something all us older siblings get stuck with?

heh.

what an amazing thing to be stuck with then.

anyways, you take care, kiddo.

i have some water to burn.

"My little brother means the world to me...

But, farewell! Stay safe!

... wait, how do you burn water??????"

#sans how the FUCK did you burn the water #omori #omori ask blog #ask healing sunny #omori mari #mari omori

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silverdune · 4 months

Text

this siren song is not your calling | c.sn

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"you were supposed to be no different.."

minors dni. ageless blogs dni. blank blogs dni. you'll be blocked.

genre: fantasy/horror

character(s): choi san (ft. you as a seafarer)

tags: siren!san, seafarer!reader, captain!reader, ships, ocean, san has a tail (merpeople), scales and webbed fingers, angst, one cuss, mild gore

word count: 879

summary: choi san is a proud siren, one who has been watching and waiting to capture you for a while. but when he finally tries, something strange occurs..

a/n: ik this is quite short, i just thought of this concept the other day and wanted to write it; lmk if you're interested in an expansion? i'm up for writing more if you want to see more :)

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He thought he had had you wrapped up from day one.

That's what he likes to believe anyway.

Choi San was a proud siren, chest in the air without a single thought paid to the hearts that became his trophies. Every sailor that attempted to parry his advances found themselves beneath the depths of his ocean plinth and the beating organ in their rib cage became another plaque on his figurative wall.

You were supposed to be no different.

Your ship had passed by many times, and he had taken note of your schedule once he caught on to how often you would take this exact route. Once San learned you were the captain, just from observation alone, a smirk appeared on his face. You would be his first.

When your ship passed through this waters for the dozenth time, he clambered forth onto his rock and waited for your approach. His pupils shifted to daggers, much like the shape of his teeth, his webbed fingers shimmering against the moonlight as water trickled down his hands.

He had done this so many times before; San had laughed to himself as he watched your ship glide across the waters. This was going to be easy.

Pushing himself up over the rock, he licked his lips a few times, ready to sing the song that he had rehearsed many times for this occasion. No one else would hear this song - this was for you and you alone.

Opening his mouth wide, a whistling cry sprung from his larynx, causing the ocean around him to ripple within an inch of its life. You could mistake the effect for a major thunderstorm or tornado, a testament to the sheer power in his lungs and voice.

Your ship continued to sail as if unaffected by the song. San thought to himself that in mere seconds you would be veering towards him, completely bound to his will and unable to escape. He was beyond excited to add your heart to his collection.

And yet, you sailed on by, remaining undeterred, and to that, he stopped.

His lips almost quivered as they sealed shut. He shuddered against the rock, disturbed by the fact that nothing had come of this attempt to allure you.

Glancing up, his cerulean eyes burning like an eel in the murkiest depths, he screamed again, but it wasn't so melodic as it was mangled in his defeat.

San had failed to enrapture you. He had failed to take your heart.

A loss so cruel it sent his boneless body back to the water.

But San did not intend to give up. He was going to have your heart, one way or another.

The next time you appeared, he did the same thing again, but this time made his presence better known. He was unmistakable, his tail a brilliant forest green, his shoulders brandishing well kept scales of a burgundy hue.

San glared across the waters, watching and waiting for your ship to be within reach. When he saw you take to the bow and hold a telescope to one eye, he opened his mouth to sing once again.

That was when you pointed your telescope directly at him.

Through the telescope, you spotted the siren on the rock, and upon closer inspection, dropped the telescope overboard and into the sea.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed. You almost threw yourself over trying to grab it, and just about managed to with your legs halfway in the air. The balustrade was nearly piercing your skin with how hard you were holding on, and the blood rushed to your head in seconds.

San shut his mouth and shot up, back completely straight. His eyes grew wide when he saw you.. and for some reason, he felt an urge to do something.

All caution, thought and sense was thrown out the window when he dived into the ocean and swam at great speed towards your ship. The second he got to you, he popped out from beneath the surface of the water and looked up at you.

Your jaw dropped.

As did his own.

No, no, no..

San did not have time to think about this. He brought a hand out of the water, splayed his fingers, then pushed his palm out, which sent you flying backwards over the railing and onto the deck of your ship.

The landing was sudden and unpleasant. The telescope was still firmly in your grasp. Your crew was rushing over to help.

Every voice blurred and melded into one big cacophony of noise.

The only thing you could see in your mind was the siren.

What was more horrifying was that.. you knew him.

San..

San didn't even return to his rock. He instead disappeared to the cavern where he often resided when he wasn't taking in the sun or the sights of his potential targets.

The tears were plain to see, even in the water.

Your name looped incessantly in his head even as he willed it to leave him be. Your face was now the only picture and it made him scream into the ether.

Now he understood why you did not respond. His siren song could not have persuaded you.

For your heart had already been his once before.

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× tristeetconfus (ave). do not repost. ×

#ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #san scenarios #san imagines #san x reader #words.(ave)#fic: this siren song

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 11 months

Note

What would be the reaction of the skeletons, if the outside world is worse than the underground, Eg. Famine, Nuclear War, or even Zombie Apocalypse if that's what you want. Whatever it is, the outside world is worse than the inside, and it's on the brink of collapse.

Undertale Sans - Welp. They went outside the cave for like five minutes, woo, big sensations. Now time to go back Underground lol. He dealt with time-space shit for he doesn't even know how long because he can't remember reset, he's not going to add a nuclear war to the list thank you very much. Sans decides it's vacation time. He's done with the end of the world. He's going back to Grillby's now. Bye.

Undertale Papyrus - Hum. When he read things about the surface he kinda expected something else you know. Well, definitely not burned radioactive lands. Is this why they thought for? Damn, if he had known he wouldn't have put so much effort in it. What was the emergency to get out again? He missed his Mettaton's TV show for this! He's so mad!

Underswap Sans - Well... That's funny actually. They left a prison, and when they got out, there's just a gigantic ocean surrounding them because the waters rised. And now they are stuck as the only place not being an ocean is the Underground. At least they can still go see the sun when they want??? That's sort of an improvement???

Underswap Papyrus - He was too nervous to leave the Underground anyway. He is kinda relieved all there is is water around them to be honnest so he can go back in Snowdin and pretends nothing ever happened. They won't have to deal with more humans and he's very happy about it.

Underfell Sans and Papyrus - "boss, i'm not sure they're friendly" "BULLSHIT! UGLY GREEN FACELESS OVERGROWN CLONE OF FRISK, LEAD US TO YOUR CHIEF!" The guy lets go a "Grrrrah" and then jumps on him and bites his arm. "WELL THIS IS FUCKING RUDE. I HATE THIS PLACE. WHY DID WE GET OUT AGAIN???" The monsters are a bit... dubitative about the humans outside. They look a bit dead. And alive somehow. Oh well, monsters are immuned anyway to the zombie virus. Look at that, they literally have cities for them alone! That can't be bad.

Horrortale Sans - He was so hopeful that once they got out, they would finally have food. Except as soon they arrive on the Surface, they discover the humans are in the middle of a big famine as well. Oh. Well... Uh... At least there are humans outside so they're ok??? Oak tries to see the good sides you know.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's a bit angry. How dare you have a famine NOW? Is this some sick joke? He just killed his best friend to get out, and all for nothing??? That's bullshit! Clearly the Surface sucks. Well, at least they have some variety in food here. Maybe they can become vegetarian? Like eat grass or something? He has no idea dude.

Swapfell Sans - Aliens. After everything, aliens. Angry aliens that wants the world to die. The queen says that since he's the captain of the royal guard, he should be the one to go and meet them. Nox looks at her, terrified. What do you mean him? He's not going to talk to the aliens! What if they lay eggs in his stomach??? The queen tells him he has no stomach and kicks him out of the Underground. Nox wants to cry.

Swapfell Papyrus - Aliens are real??? Omg, he's so happy! He thought it was all stupid stories Undyne wrote! Though, why are the humans so scared??? Aren't they all supposed to have babies with each other like in the movies??? He's confused. Then the humans scream they are aliens and Rus is even more confused. Are they aliens???

Fellswap Gold Sans - The Earth is invaded by... Giant vegetables. That eat humans. What the hell. Wine is not paid enough for this. He quits the Royal Guard, wishes Toriel good luck and goes back to his home. That's enough for one day, he's done.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He's so mad! Why vegetables??? Couldn't it be candies or something? He hates vegetables! He didn't escape Wine's vegetable tyranny to get out and eat more vegetables! This is the worst possible ending! Why does the world hates him so much?! Were resets not enough already?! Coffee is starting his edgy arc.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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nyxus-nyx-2 · 6 months

Note

"Uhh- Papyrus?...I burnt the water-"

-Sans The Skeleton

”SANS HOW THE FUCK DID YOU BURN THE WATER??”

#nyxy rambles #Papyrus #papyrus answers #Peach answers #Undertale #sans #skelebros

26 notes · View notes

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