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worldlxvlys · 2 months

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complicated (part 1)

chris sturniolo x reader

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: making out, mentions of sex, suggestive, angst, cursing

a/n: this one is longggg so i broke it up into 3 parts. i already wrote parts 2 and 3 so they’ll be up soonnn :)

matt, chris, and i were all chilling together in their living room.

nick had gone to his room to start editing a little while ago.

matt and i were seated next to each other on the couch, chris sitting on the loveseat.

my relationship with the two of them was complicated.

matt was my best friend, he knew me like the back of his hand. with one look at me he could tell what i was feeling.

we spent so much time together, we were often with each other longer than we were apart .

we were so close that we blurred the lines between friends and something more every now and then. but it never went further than lingering touches and almost kisses.

i’m not sure why, but late nights staying up talking have often led to our lips being mere centimeters apart lately.

i chalked it up to sleep deprivation and getting caught up in the heat of the moment.

chris, however, was different. i wasn’t as close to him as i was matt, but the few times where it was just us hanging out, i always had fun.

there was this unspoken tension between chris and i. we never said anything about it, but we were both well aware it was there.

he made flirty comments toward me whenever matt wasn’t in the room, finding joy in my flustered state that resulted from it.

i never let anything happen though, out of respect for matt being my best friend.

it seemed like chris made it his mission to get me to break, constantly testing my self-control.

the three of us had just finished watching a movie, watching as the credits began to roll.

immediately, matt stood up, patting my knee as he did so.

“alright, i’m gonna get food. you guys coming?” he asked.

chris stood up as soon as matt asked the question.

“no, i’m good” i answered, not feeling like getting up.

chris glanced at me for a second before answering, “actually, i’m not really hungry”

matt narrowed his eyes in confusion before shrugging and beginning to leave.

“alright, i’ll be back in a little” he said before leaving.

chris walked over to me, replacing matt’s spot as he sat down next to me.

“wanna listen to some music?” he asked as he grabbed the tv remote.

“sure” i answered, watching as his long fingers worked the remote.

“why didn’t you go?” i asked, watching him from the corner of my eye.

i watched as he clicked shuffle on a playlist, before the room was filled with the melody of a song.

wet the bed - chris brown

“chris, you’re not fucking serious right now” i deadpanned as the suggestive lyrics played out.

“i didn’t pick the song” he held his hands up in defense. “i just picked a chris brown playlist, i know you like his music” he said.

i just wanna take your legs and wrap 'em round

girl, you cummin' right now

my head to your chest feelin’ your heartbeat, girl

“how do you know that?” i asked, confused.

“you’re always listening to his music, so i assumed you liked it. i mean, unless you just listen to music you hate for fun”

“i didn’t realize you were paying attention” i said.

“of course i am. you make it hard to focus on anything else”

i don't want to be a minute man

baby, you're just like a storm rainin' on me

girl, your soakin' wet

i turned my body towards his as he caught my attention.

“what do you mean? do you find me distracting?” i asked, leaning forward slightly.

“you know i do” he said as his eyes traveled down to my lips.

i’ma kiss you right (yeah, yeah)

i'm gon' lick all night (yeah, yeah)

girl, when i'm inside (yeah, yeah)

“why’d you stay?” i whispered as i stopped myself from pushing my lips to his. “you know damn well you wanted to go”

“i did, but i wanted to stay with you more” he said.

“why?” i asked as he rested his forehead against mine. he placed his hand on my thigh, lightly gripping the side of it.

“because i want you” he breathed out, hooking my leg over his waist to straddle him.

yeah, girl, you heard what I said

i'm gonna make you wet the bed

i looked down at him, steadying myself by grabbing his shoulders.

“we really shouldn’t chris” i spoke as my lips brushed against hit.

“definitely not” he spoke against my lips, his eyes closed.

“it’s wrong” i whispered.

“but one kiss wouldn’t hurt, right?” he asked, his hands running up and down my waist.

“chris” i sighed.

“please, i need it so bad” his hands now traveled down to my ass.

“just one-” his lips were on mine the second i spoke the words.

i'ma put your legs behind your head

when I make you wet the bed

my hands found their way to his hair as his lips moved greedily against mine.

one of his hands found my jaw, holding it steady as he deepened the kiss, tilting his head.

after a while, we pulled away for air. “one more” he spoke before attaching his lips back to mine, barely giving me time to breathe.

one more turned into two more, two turned into three, and before i knew it i was lost in the way his lips pressed against mine.

his hands traveled to my ass, squeezing it, eliciting a moan from me.

when i let out a gasp in surprise, he slid his tongue past my lips.

“what the fuck ?” came a voice from behind us.

i pulled my lips away from chris, moving off of his lap.

“matt-” i began before he cut me off. “what? what excuse could you possibly give me right now?” he asked.

“look, i’m sorry that i hurt you, but i’m an adult. i don’t really need to give an excuse for anything i do” i spoke defensively.

“whatever” he scoffed as he shook his head, “ i brought you food for later, i knew you’d probably get hungry anyway. but i guess i’m the only one here who thinks about other people” he spoke in a low voice before walking away.

my face dropped at that, starting to feel bad about not considering his feelings at all.

“hey, if you wanna blame someone, blame me. i’m the one who kept pushing you, so please don’t blame yourself” chris spoke, practically seeing the gears turning in my head.

“yeah” i whispered in response, still feeling incredibly guilty.

“hold on, i’ll be back. i’m gonna go talk to him” he spoke, squeezing my hand before going off to matt’s room.

after sitting there in anticipation for a few minutes, i began to get nervous. not knowing what was going on was killing me.

my body moved quicker than my brain as i got up and made my way towards matt’s room. i pressed my ear to the door, listening to what they were saying.

“you know how i feel about her” matt’s muffled voice traveled through the door.

“you barely even hang out with her, you just want her because you know you shouldn’t” matt continued.

“you like the thrill of having to sneak around, and chasing after someone you can’t have. you never once showed any interest in her before i did, now suddenly you just have to have her?” matt asked.

“it’s not like that, matt. i don’t hang out with her often because whenever i do, you accuse me of stealing her away from you” chris started, but was cut off by matt.

“that’s not true, and you know it. you can’t just warp the truth to support the sorry excuses you come up with. just admit it, you don’t actually want her” matt said.

“that’s the thing, matt, i do want her. i just didn’t wanna make it obvious, since you obviously can’t handle that”

“what i can’t handle is the way you think you’re entitled to do whatever the hell you want. did you ever stop to think about what this would do to my friendship with her? or my relationship with you? do you ever think about anything other than yourself?” matt asked.

it didn’t seem like their conversation was going anywhere. the second they started to get somewhere, someone would throw an insult at the other.

deciding to intervene, i knocked on the door loudly. the arguing stopped immediately and the door opened a few seconds later.

i was met with an angry matt, but his face softened as soon as he saw me.

knowing i wanted to be let in, he moved to the side to let me pass. he closed the door behind me, watching as i went to sit on his bed.

“look, i’m sorry guys. i shouldn’t have kissed chris, it was a mistake. the last thing i ever want to do is break the bond that you guys have. let’s just forget this ever happened” i said to them.

“no” chris started, taking me by surprise. “i want you to pick”

“what?” i asked, my face dropping at this.

“chose who you want to be with. it doesn’t make sense for us to fight over you, it’s your decision. whoever you decide to stay friends with won’t take it personal, right matt?” chris asked.

“yeah, we’re not gonna force you into anything you don’t want. if the feelings aren’t there, then they aren’t there” matt agreed.

two minutes ago they were arguing uncontrollably and now they were able to come to an agreement in seconds? this was weird.

“so, who do you want?” chris asked.

who do i want? i had no clue.

i loved spending time with chris, but what if matt was right? what if i only enjoyed the thrill of having someone i can’t have ? was that worth jeopardizing my friendship with either of them over?

and matt? i had such a deep connection with him, i didn’t want to lose him. if i fucked up our friendship, i’d never forgive myself for it. the last thing i ever wanted to do was hurt him, yet that was exactly what i was doing in the moment.

“i don’t know, i don’t even think i can pick” i spoke honestly.

“then why not give us both a shot?” chris asked.

“wait, what ?” i asked, confused.

“well, you wanna see if this is more than just tension, right ? and you wanna know if you have feelings for matt?” he asked.

“i mean, yeah” i answered.

“well, there’s a way to answer both of those questions” he spoke as he pointed to the bed.

my eyes widened at the implication , “sex?”

“if it’ll help you decide who you want, then why not?” chris asked.

“that’s not really the first approach i would’ve taken, but he’s not wrong” matt hesitantly agreed.

“obviously sex isn’t the only factor that goes into a relationship, but you already know all of the other factors. you know how we treat you outside of the bed, so maybe the key to your decision is what happens in it” matt spoke.

“i mean, if you don’t want to that’s fine but-” chris started. “i’m in” i cut him off.

“so, who’s first?” i asked playfully.

“me” chris spoke eagerly, “i mean, we should finish what we started earlier, right?” he tried to cover up his excitement.

“alright, get out of my room” matt started, ushering us out. “and please don’t be loud, i don’t wanna hear that shit”

🌀🌀🌀🌀

next part

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07

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thejakeslayla · 7 months

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╰─▸ ❝ three am ❞ - ,, jake sim

pairing bf!jake x gn! reader ୨୧ genre fluff ୨୧ warnings kissing, making out ୨୧ wc 1,4k ୨୧ just a little bit of beta, writer is sleep deprived req; prompt 19; (both waking up in the middle of the night and going on an adventure to find the perfect snack) prompt 9 (taking a photo of them smiling or in their element); prompt 14 (brushing strands of hair away)

as the clock struck 3 a.m., you made the decision to change into more comfortable clothes and head to bed, or at least attempt to do so. it was weekend, nothing to for the following day, yet you couldn't shake the guilt of staying up late. it’s like ruining your sleep schedule on purpose. you had already swapped your jeans for sweatpants, considering that you still needed to eat, and you didn't want to accidentally stain your pjamas.

you had been texting jake an hour ago, but he had stopped responding, leading you to assume he had gone to sleep. as you left your bedroom, a knock on your front door startled you. your eyes widened in fear; it was so late, and you wondered who could be knocking on your door at this hour.

your instinctive reaction was to message jake. you were already holding your phone, so you unlocked it and opened the chat with him.

your messages filled with panic; "oh my god," "someone is knocking at my door," "what do i do," "jake, oh my god, i'm about to lose it. help."

to your surprise, you received a response, making you think that perhaps jake hadn't gone to bed yet. "just open the door," you gasped at his message.

‘ARE YOU INSANE THIS PERSON WILL PROBABLY KIDNAP ME OR KILL ME I WONT,’ you replied anxiously.

‘y/n.’ ‘open. the. door.’

you didn't understand, but a glimmer of hope made you consider that maybe, just maybe, it was jake. you cautiously approached the door, still fearing the person on the other side, and slowly opened it slightly, allowing you to peek at the intruder.

the weight on your heart lifted, and the fear disappeared when you saw jake’s silly smile. you loudly groaned and finally opened the door.

"i'm also happy to see you!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he could enter your apartment. "i missed you," he added as you hugged him.

"you're insane, and i hate you. you scared me half to death," you said, pretending to be offended.

“you loooooove me,” he teased, swaying your bodies left and right. “anyways, i’m taking you on a date.”

“a date? it’s late, jake.”

“don’t care, didn’t ask. put your shoes on, please.”

you sighed, unable to say no to your adorable, puppy-like boyfriend. he was your soft spot, and he knew it, often abusing it, albeit in a loving way. jake was a pure soul, never even considering hurting you in any way. you quickly put on your shoes, and minutes later, you were outside on the quiet streets of seoul. as the world grew quieter, the streets came alive in a different way. the distant traffic hum became a soothing melody, and the cool breeze on your face, jake’s hand holding yours being the only source of warmth.

feeling the chilly air, jake pulled you closer, his body warming yours. soon, you entered a busier street, with neon signs flickering like distant stars, hurting your eyes if you stared too long. some music from nearby clubs revealed cities nightlife.

you walked in silence until jake pulled a pair of airpods out of his pocket and handed one to you. the music was already playing when you comfortably placed it in your ear. it took just one song for jake to start moving in rhythm with the music. taking advantage of the nearly empty street, he turned to you.

"y/n, let's dance," he said, making you chuckle, almost causing your airpod to fall out, which you had to readjust.

“dance?” you answered too late, as he had already moved away and spun you around. you couldn't help but laugh even more. you couldn't refuse; the melody forced you to dance on its own. for the entire song, you danced around, still moving forward. you didn't know where jake was leading you, but you didn't complain.

another song played, and jake began singing and even rapping loudly. you laughed heartily, enjoying the moment as much as you could. when the chorus rolled in, you both sang along, still somehow dancing. jake enthusiastically gestured while singing the lyrics, which only made you laugh even more.

at some point he even let go out of your hand to focus more on the song, soon after you were recording him and taking pictures, you were basically his hypeman, somehow shouting the adlibs.

at some point, he let go of your hand to focus more on the song. soon, you were recording him and taking pictures, essentially becoming his hype person, enthusiastically shouting the adlibs. his moves were smooth and pleasant to watch, and you weren't laughing at his dancing skills; you were genuinely impressed. but when he suddenly twerked, you couldn't hold back your laughter and had to stop, nearly collapsing from laughter.

he laughed alongside you. "please, don't tell me you got that on video," jake said after a minute or two of both of you laughing.

“i got it perfectly, don’t worry.”

from an outside perspective, you probably looked like two idiots, dancing and singing to songs no one else could hear, laughing as if it were the funniest thing on earth. however, you couldn't be bothered to think about other people; it felt like it was just you, jake, and the music, creating cherished memories together.

you both gradually calmed down, still swaying to the beats as you walked. then, jake pulled you into a 7-eleven, mentioning that he was hungry.

“what are we feeling like eating?” he asked as you strolled through the instant noodles aisle. you quickly grabbed a pack for yourself, and jake followed suit. the argument at the self-checkout couldn't be avoided, but your boyfriend eventually won, claiming that he was the one treating you on this date and that he was the best boyfriend who needed to pay.

soon, you were sitting outside, near the microwaves and the self-cook ramen station. jake had you fill your cup with water first, and you didn't argue against his "best boyfriend" claims because, after all, they were true. as you waited for your cups to be filled, you swayed your hips to the music still playing in your airpods. jake quickly noticed and flashed you a bright smile.

the lyrics expressed a mutual desire in a singer's relationship, willing to do anything for their significant other. it was slow and perfect for the moment. you looked into jake's eyes, focusing more on the song's meaning. in the meantime, he placed his hands on your hips, swaying with you. you felt incredibly safe and loved in this precious moment between the two of you. a romantic song played, and you both gazed at each other with overwhelming love surrounding you.

you couldn't resist leaning in and asking for a kiss. the tenderness in it felt different, and as his lips met yours, you were instantly flooded with butterflies in your stomach. it felt intimate and more passionate than your previous kisses. unconsciously, you wrapped your hands around his neck as you continued to sway gently, the loud beep from the machine preventing you from having a full-on make-out session in front of the store and the unfortunate cashier who could witness it all.

as you pulled away, you smiled at jake, feeling an abundance of happiness and love that seemed boundless and uncontrollable. both of you turned your attention to your cups, mixing the noodles. soon, you were seated, both slurping on the ramen.

“‘so good,” jake said, with his mouth full. “it hits different during nights like this.” he added after swallowing.

you nodded, your cheeks full of noodles. he laughed at your adorable appearance, and you responded with a puzzled head tilt. "nothing, you're just cute," he said, perfectly understanding you without the need for words.

you swallowed your noodles, not responding verbally. instead, you reached out and brushed strands of his hair away as you saw him struggling to keep them out of his eyes, his hands occupied.

you both continued to eat as if nothing had happened, but jake's heart was undoubtedly racing from your swift action, his cheeks reddened, and his eyes widen. both of you were certain that this wasn't a fleeting relationship. this late-night date had made you both realise that this was something more, that you both loved each other unconditionally, and that you were both serious about your relationship, wanting to be together until the end.

#thejakeslayla #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha x reader #enhypen x you #jake x reader #enhypen #jake x you #jake x y/n #jake drabble #jake drabbles #jake imagines #jake fluff

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martyrlamb · 6 months

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✶ let the light in / leon kennedy

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader

summary: early mornings are hard and leon loves you.

tags: sfw, fluff, a bit of angst when leon thinks about his life, no use of y/n, complete self indulgence i want to wake up next to him, cuddling, kissing, established relationship, any time period leon!!, leon being clingy and adorbs, leon is absolutely whipped for you

note: ummm title based off the lana song. it’s so waking up and being all soft and cuddly in bed with ur s/o coded and i know leon is so clingy on the mornings he has off so that’s what i wrote :P enjoy

word count: 1.3k

He’s used to sleepless nights and early mornings.

Been used to them. Leon lived in a group home, kids got loud before breakfast—incessant laughter and whines of hunger he couldn’t tune out by smothering his ears in the fabric of his pillow. Training had a rigid schedule he couldn’t get past even if he tried.

Falling asleep was harder than it looked, and he spent most nights staring at the back of his eyelids wishing he could fade away from consciousness. Every creak of the floorboards made him jolt and the wind that whistled through a crack in the window frame produced cold, clammy hands.

When he did float off to dreamland, he usually didn’t last very long.

The last few hairs on his dad’s head. A string of pearls snapped on the floor. His mom’s manicured hand, stained with blood. Every set of eyes he’s ever known going dull. Losing himself. Desperately—desperately holding onto something solid for dear life. It’s all there, and it plays over like freeze frames of a movie.

He pretends it doesn’t stick. There are no bad dreams he’s startled himself awake from, he doesn’t shake like the alley strays in the middle of winter under his blankets, his skin is not damp with sweat.

He knows the routine when he wakes up: lie there until he isn’t allowed anymore. Only, when he opens his eyes all heavy and groggy, unable to shake the itchy sleep deprivation from his tear ducts, he’s with you.

You, with that peaceful expression of yours while your head rests against the pillow. Your chest rises and falls in soft hills under the bit of blanket Leon hadn’t managed to steal during the night. He traces the bridge of your nose with the shadow of his finger; he thinks about counting the number of eyelashes that ring your pretty eyes so he never forgets the shape.

It’s tooth-achingly sappy, and it makes him feel like that giddy kid late for his first day as a police officer again. A little brighter, a little more saturated. Before he saw the worst parts of the world—at least on mornings like these.

Between work and the general hustle and bustle of life, he doesn’t get many of them. A crime, if you ask him.

Sunlight filters through the crack in the curtains that you picked out. It’s peering over the horizon and it beats down in streams on the bed and makes a silhouette of your face. You’re backlit like something angelic. God, he’s getting poetic but he can’t help it; you’re you and you’re in his life, so yeah, it’s innate in every way possible.

He takes it in: the birds chittering through the screen of the window that you always leave open an inch, the squeak of the old fan he pulled from storage as it oscillates, your warm skin against his. Leon’s room isn’t very picturesque (your doing; when he started seeing you, your things began to crop up everywhere and now they’re strewn about the apartment alternating: yours, his, yours, his.), but he thinks this morning could be put in the Louvre.

You stir in your sleep and Leon goes still, watching your breathing as it speeds up. He doesn’t want it to end yet.

Okay. Leon might be the villain for this, but he rolls right back over, partially on top of you, and puts his head on your chest with one of his arms draped over your stomach. When he hears the gentle thrum of your heartbeat, he shuts his eyes and pretends to sleep.

Words that fade to nothing escape your mouth in a sigh as you squint yourself awake. He can picture the face you’re making right now: all bleary-eyed and softly disgruntled, the slight furrow of your brows as you regain consciousness. He’s seen it a thousand times, and he’s going to see it a million more if fate wills it.

You struggle under his weight to check your phone and he can tell you’re moving as slow as possible so you don’t wake him. Something about no good deed going unpunished—he’s not planning on going anywhere anytime soon even if he could for the sake of your mobility.

When you place your phone on the nightstand again, it’s a bit more aggressive, a bit rougher, and you grumble. Must be work. Your fingertips creep up and palm at Leon’s hair gently, an attempt to coax him awake that doesn’t work. His breathing stills, and he listens to you whisper his name sweetly into his ear.

“I know you’re up, Leon,” you mumble finally, he can hear the smile in your voice.

Damn, caught. He doesn’t budge.

You continue, stroking his hair with one hand snaked behind his head. “I have to go to work.”

With his gig up, he merely buries his face in the crook of your neck and inhales like it would somehow attach you to him. The hairs on his arms rise when he catches the smell of your shampoo. You giggle and squirm under him from the sensation. His name falls from your lips in a playful complaint, dragging out the last syllable.

Leon can feel the vibration of your throat and he smiles against your skin. Shhh… he thinks when he peppers kisses along your collarbone. You’re ticklish under his feather-light arsenal and you laugh, grabbing the sides of his face to tilt his head up slightly to look at you. Your hands are soft and warm and he could probably draw out your fingerprints from memory by now, but he still relishes the feeling like he’ll forget at any moment.

“I have to go,” you insist, your thumb strokes circles on his cheek when he starts on your waist. There’s no real urgency in your tone.

He groans and lets his head fall forward, forehead against your chin. “No.”

“You don’t know how much I want to stay.” Your reply is wistful; considerate—he’s got you right where he wants you.

“Then stay,” he mutters quietly, and he looks up, glancing at you through his lashes. Bingo. He watches your persistence dissolve on your tongue.

“What about work?”

“Call in sick.”

You hum in response, a cute little tone that means nothing in the long run. Your mind is already made up, Leon can see it in your eyes, but you like to pretend to put up a fight for responsibility’s sake.

“Oh, fine,” you finally reply and snatch your phone from the nightstand. It only takes a few minutes for you to finish tapping on the tiny keys and when you do, you discard it and rake your fingers through Leon’s hair.

The sensation of your nails against his scalp sends goosebumps down each column of his spine and he shuts his eyes, leaning his head on your shoulder. You simper when you say, “You’re a terrible influence.”

“I’ve been told.” It comes out more like a sigh.

You press a kiss to the crown of his head, a small, loving movement that might have brought him to tears a few years ago. It was so plain and domestic, a type of subtle affection he’d never had the privilege of experiencing until he met you. He thought it wasn’t real for the longest time, something of romance novels and shitty rom-coms, but you made it so easy. You made everything so easy.

He wraps his other arm around your waist and rolls both of you over, him on his back and you on top of him. You laugh his name, tangled in a mess of blankets and limbs as you wrap your arms around his neck. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, now, and he hopes it feels the same for you as it did to him.

A ray of sun beats against his eyelids, enveloping the darkness in an obnoxious white light. Bah. Leon can’t even find it in himself to complain; he loves you. He’s in this bed, and you’re in this bed and he loves you so much he can’t think of anything else.

#leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy re4 #re2 leon #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader

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sofiareidings · 7 months

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Coffee Runs

Summary: The guy who's been coming to the cafe you work at finally asked why you've never called him by his name.

A/N: I'm sorry this story is so late, especially since I missed Monday's post. School has been so busy this week and I've also had a bunch if extracurricular lately. I'll try and be more on time from now on (Don't hold me to that) Also! I got the idea for this one shot from @hanllo-kitty

Word Count: 0.8k

Song Suggestions: Invisible String - Taylor Swift

It was a good job, a great job really. The cafe was in a nicer part of town and people would subconsciously give nice tips so your pay was good. Rarely were customers terrible. Most people that came in were students or really busy people rushing in and going.

There were a few regulars. Like Joe, Joe was an eighty year old man who came in everyday for a coffee and a sandwich. While he waited he would talk about the lotto numbers and how his kids were doing. There was also Lola, she was a journalist who spent most of her day sitting in the corner of the cafe while refilling the same cup until closing.

But there was only one regular you would think about while getting ready for work.

Come on, I don't know his name. Don't shoot the messenger.

He'd been coming in for the past three months almost everyday, right after the cafe opened for a coffee. He always looked a little tired and acted like it too. He barely made conversation and normally shuffled out of the store in the same fashion as the other overworked people; quickly.

You hadn't learned his name yet. He always seemed to forget to say it when you asked, which resulted in you making up something.

"Guy with the sweater vest!"

"Guy in the purple!"

"Guy with the scarf!"

You get the point.

He was your favourite regular because of his looks. God, even when he was incredibly sleep deprived he looked beautiful. He had brown hair that fell just below his sharp jaw. Brown eyes that always happened to be in the light from the cafe window, making the small gold flakes in his eyes shine. He was normally dressed in a sweater vest and neutral pants, he probably worked at some type of office. The one part of him that stood out in his outfits were his converse, odd for the rest of his outfit. You could've sworn a few times you saw brightly coloured mismatched socks.

***

The sound of the cafe bell echoed through the nearly empty shop, having only opened half an hour ago. Smiling in the direction of the person walking in you quickly noticed it was 'Guy with *whatever he had on*" who came in. Something was different, he had thick glasses on. That was new.

"Hey, just the regular coffee and donut?" You put the order into the computer, looking back up at him. Taking in the new look.

"Yeah, thanks." His lips creased into a line, you called it a tired smile, the same one he made everyday. He handed over his money and poured the change into the tip jar then stepped back to wait for his order.

A couple minutes later you came back to the counter with his order. "Guy with the glasses!"

He did his usual, smiled and grabbed his order saying bye. But just when he reached the threshold of the door he paused and turned. "Why do you do that?"

Having already turned around you paused, this was the first time he'd talked to you in a clear voice. You weren't really sure what he meant. "Do what? Did I get your order wrong?"

He cleared his throat and seemed a little frustrated. "You never say my name, you just call me guy with something. Is it just to annoy me?"

"What? No, you've just never told me your name." Laughing a little, realising the misunderstanding.

"I didn't?" His face changed to confusion, "Oh my gosh, I didn't." He realised his mistake then his face flushed a shade of red.

"Don't worry, it's okay. Guy with the glasses." You laughed, looking around the cafe for a minute, strange it was still pretty empty.

"I am so sorry, I thought I told you and you just wanted to annoy me. I feel like a jerk, you seem so nice." Genuinely sorry he apologised profusely. "Can I make it up to you?"

Deciding to take the chance, you'd been daydreaming about this guy for months. "Well, maybe you could take me on a date." A little shocked by your own boldness, your face went up like twelve degrees.

"Uh, yeah…" He trailed off, clearly flustered. "Yeah, I would really like that."

"Well then, it's a date." You beamed, internally jumping up and down out of excitement. Since when were you so forward? He made that smile he made everyday before turning towards the door again.

That's when you realised.

"Wait!" You shouted, louder than you expected. Causing your coworker to drop a cup. "You still haven't told me your name."

"It's Spencer. I'll make sure to be back tomorrow." He nodded again and chuckled lightly before finally walking through the door.

God could tomorrow morning come any quicker.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #fandom #fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gn!reader #sofiareidings

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lefty-scribes · 1 year

Text

sunflower

Summary: After coming home late from a stressful day at work, Spencer needs nothing more than to be in your arms in order to feel like himself again. You offer your touch to him in more ways than one.

melodramatic handjob :>

Word Count: 3423

Songs: ‘cry’ by cigarettes after sex may fit !!

Pairing: softdomme!reader x sub!spencer

Warnings: smut (18+ please), choking (m receiving), spencer cries xoxo, fully consensual but his reactions are described as ‘involuntary’ sometimes, sudden tense switch at the end bc it felt right idk, 65% buildup, 15% action, 20% orgasm LOL

a/n: guys the transition from comfort to seggsy just happened out of nowhere and the pacing is aggressively slow, prob making this hard to get off to. i’m sorry. also if you don’t think you should be reading this (🔞) you’re probably right ?? but please don’t tell me about it. do comment anything else though if you're feeling up to it :3

With a twist of his hand on the doorknob and a step through the door, Spencer took his long awaited whiff of home. It smelled of cedarwood and floral candles and you, and the tension released from his shoulders completely for the first time today.

He walked straight to the bedroom where he knew you’d still be up waiting for him, door open with a lit bedside light to welcome him despite his insistence that your sleep is more important. The urge didn’t even come up to wash his hands, disinfect his phone, or sanitize his work bag, being replaced instead by his desire to be in your presence.

As he’d suspected, there you were, sitting up on the bed you shared, eyes fighting to stay open as they flitted through the pages of a book. The comforter covered your legs, and only a thin sleep shirt separated your back from the headboard you leaned against, the shape of your nipples hardly poking through. Spencer hesitated to walk in and ruin the pretty picture.

When you noticed him, a fond smile grew on your face and you dropped your book to open your arms wide for him. He slowly walked over to you, stomach twisting just a little at the fear of being a bother, and started to position himself as he did whenever he needed a bit of extra comfort. He gave you a quick peck and settled down so his head rested on your lap, lying down on his side with his arm hugging your bare thighs. His long frame curled sideways by your legs under the blanket. He said nothing when you combed your fingers through his hair—just held you a bit tighter; nuzzled his cheek impossibly closer.

You broke the silence, absentmindedly separating small locks of his hair now with your fingers. “Want to talk about it?” you asked, to which he shook his head, movement still restricted by your thighs on his cheek, hating that he didn’t have more to say. Hated to have to make you pry just to hear about his day, but all the more in awe of how attuned you were to his emotions—even more than he was sometimes. Hated being moody and uncommunicative, but his brain was betraying him.

Your thumb now stroked his eyebrow, smoothing it out. Every part of him that your fingers touched relaxed in its wake, coupled with the scent of your lotion and laundry into his breaths. He finally spoke up, voice slightly muddled from his cheek against your leg; perhaps he sounded like his handwriting would sound, though he hoped he was more understandable than that.

“Per hour of sleep we lose, human blood pressure tends to increase by 3 to 5 millimeters of mercury, so you waiting up for me this late probably already caused an increase of 10 mmHg. Cortisol levels can also increase by up to 80% when sleep deprived, and your reaction time can slow by up to 500 milliseconds, which will make it more unsafe for you to drive tomorrow.” I appreciate you so much, baby, but you shouldn’t have waited up, is what he wanted to say. It never came out that way. I love when you greet me. Don’t put your health at risk for me. I’m sorry I’m late. But it always came out instead as numbers and statistics because that’s all he knows how to do, and it’s the only way his voice knows how to love, but you get it. He wants to add more.

You get him. “Stop worrying, Spence. I need to see you just as much as you need to see me. Can’t sleep otherwise,” you assured him. Goosebumps rose on his skin as you rubbed slow, pressured circles onto his forehead, massaging him properly now. Maybe your words were supposed to make him feel better, but he couldn’t shake the guilt in his gut. His burden complex weighed heavier today.

“My Spencer,” you breathed. Heat rose onto his cheeks. Your Spencer. “What do you need from me?”

He laid still on your lap, face now turned upward to memorize your own, pondering on the question. Always too scared to ask, though he knew what he needed. “Anything you’ll give me,” he whispered.

Now freshly dried from his shower, Spencer walked toward where you stayed sitting on the bed just as you had been when he arrived. He stood completely bare before you, an unlikely mix of both self-consciousness and pride filling him as you looked him up and down. The implied power imbalance of your clothed decency juxtaposed with his nude vulnerability has just occurred to him; he felt a rush in his stomach.

You pulled the covers off and spread your legs apart, then patted the space in between. Spencer crawled onto the bed as carefully as he could, trying not to shake it too much, now unsure of how long he could last. He found a seat between your thighs, the outer edge of his legs lining the inner side of your own, his back flush against your torso.

Goosebumps rose on his skin when your hands trailed up his neck, grazing his ears, then his cheekbones, to comb themselves through his soft hair. He shivered, just once. His mouth parted slightly in a shaky exhale and his head lolled back toward you, as a cat would, until it rested gently on your shoulder, full trust in you to support him. His eyelashes fluttered to a close as you slowly but firmly squeezed your fingers into a closed fist against his scalp, hair tangled within your grasp, letting the leverage of your palms against his head do the tugging. Despite the tightness of the skin around his temples, his facial muscles only continued to relax as he silently handed you all control of him. He released a shallow gasp as you gave your wrists a slow twist before releasing his hair entirely.

You slid your fingers down to his nipples, running your thumbs over them each for not long enough. He let out a sigh that must’ve released more air than his lungs had the capacity to carry in the first place. The stresses of the day began to leave with it, Spencer being overcome instead by the relief of being back in the comfort of his own home—in the arms of his beloved. Your hand was cool against his humid skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. Ears ringing, he hardly heard his own voice releasing a shaky, dragged out, sh— shhhit, between gritted teeth.

Your hands trailed down even further toward his soft stomach which was scrunched into a bean-like mound from his position against you, grazing down his happy trail before ignoring his painful erection and inching toward his thighs instead. Your nails dragged gently over his inner thighs and he pried them open for you; all for you.

He whined under his breath and his legs flexed under your touch, only the duration of a single twitch, lifting his hips up subconsciously to contact your hands where he needed them most. You gently pushed him back down, wordlessly insisting on giving attention to his soft thighs, asserting that it was your pace being followed. And he couldn’t object. He didn’t want to. Always so patient with him, he longed for you to be proud of his obedience. His thighs were yours to touch, after all, and so was what rested now painfully hard between them.

His head still laying against your shoulder, you gently swiped your tongue against his ear lobe, getting his attention. You whispered to him, and he was so receptive to you. “Do you think you’re ready?”

He didn’t need to see it to know, but he glanced down anyway, his cheeks burning up to a colour he imagined matched his throbbing penis. He ached to be touched there, swallowing at the thought.

He hummed lazily in response, already lightheaded from the rush in his head. He tilted his head in slow roll to place clumsy kisses all over your face, whatever part of it he could reach, nodding continuously to please touch me, I’m ready. He thought his lips had caught your nose, cheekbones, ear, jaw… but at that point he’d already been intoxicated by your touch and couldn’t tell the difference; only wanted to taste the saltiness of your supple skin.

“Words, Spence.” With his head still turned to you, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth and nipped at it until it puffed up, drawing a light whimper from him. He arched his neck sideways to grant you access to the rest of him that your lips and teeth could reach. More of him now exposed to you, he quietly pleaded as you lightly sucked on sensitive points behind his jaw. A lone tear slipped out of his eye closest to you, and you lapped it up as it hung from his jaw.

“Ready. Always ready for you,” he choked, voice already hoarse. Your ability to take him to the clouds far before touching the most sensitive part of him only turned him on further, as well as the nurturing and patient but complete control you exerted. He was undeserving and yet eternally grateful. Swore to himself he’d spend the rest of his days trying to love you as completely as you did him.

Upon squeezing out some lubricant from the bottle in your bedside drawer, you grasped his erection in your slick hand, your other hand exploring the rest of his body, and he gasped with an unintentional jolt. From this position you two were in, it allowed the ridges of your curled palm and fingers, as well as the coolness of your wedding ring, to make full contact with the sensitive vein along the underside of his cock.

You played him like an instrument, and the sounds he made proved nothing less. You’d glide your sharp knuckles over him, barely making contact with him, much to his protest; your hand would run along the thin, elastic stretch of skin connecting his head to the underside of his cock. Or you’d bunch your delicate fingertips together at his tip, letting the widening of his cock separate them as you pushed down toward his balls. He almost wished, as the pads of your fingers trailed his length, that your fingerprints could be ingrained in his skin, if only to be claimed by you even more. His breaths grew laboured and he slowly lost the shame in his whimpers.

Your other hand moved to his lips, muffling his sounds slightly. Your breath tickled his ears, and he threw an arm back to grasp your hair or neck or whatever he could grab, trying fruitlessly to get closer for you to ground him.

He whined helplessly against your now vibrating hand, though it did nothing to quiet his volume as you so creatively played with his cock, fidgeting with him and using him like nothing. Tension was prominent between his eyebrows sewn together, and surely his forehead carried a few creases as well.

You gently ran your thumb against his bottom lip, and he instinctively pulled it into his mouth. Your thumb pushed degradingly against the inside of his cheek, forcing his mouth to open slightly. His tongue circled your thumb out of habit, and the slightest bit of spit dribbled out the corner of his lips.

The room started to smell and feel like sweat, though he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was experiencing everything and nothing all at once, sensations heightened yet brain numbed. Rare were the occasions that he couldn’t explain everything, and the times where he couldn’t think straight, but he revelled in it. Nowhere else was Spencer able to be completely defenseless and equally safe but in your arms—or hands, in this case. His guard wholeheartedly down, he cherished the privilege of being worriless and thoughtless.

His brain’s unusual absence of words and knowledge—two things which he so dutifully guarded just to feel competent—was welcomed because you were around to protect his vulnerability in the meantime.

By now, from the sweat or his own sheer lack of control, Spencer had slid down slightly so his shoulder blades were flush with your breasts; your hard nipples pressed against him through the soft silk of your nightshirt and it reminded him how eager he was to return the favour. He was leaning back a bit more, hardly noticing the ache from his weight resting on his tailbone.

The position gave you access to move your working hand even lower, gentle fingers starting to toy with his balls before moving down toward the sensitive patch of skin right beneath. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when you hit it, hums and groans gradually increasing in pitch. Against his own will, he clenched around nothing, causing his perineum to shift against your fingers. He choked out another embarrassingly loud sound, mouth shamelessly open now, and then did it again.

You kissed his jaw. “How do you feel?” you whispered. You gave more attention to the pink head now, fingers tickling his smooth tip, thumb pressing down periodically on the ridges. Your other hand played with hair.

“You treat me so well,” he breathed, as earnestly as he could, turning his head to give a sloppy kiss to your wrist, drunk on your touch, your warmth, and you. “Love you so much,"—he swallowed—"ah— oh, f— fuck— Love what you do to me.”

“You deserve it all.”

His moans got more high pitched as you worked, and his breaths came in faster than his chest could keep up with. His hands grasped at your thighs to steady himself, blunt nails digging in.

“My Spencer baby, you look oh so beautiful,” you praised, voice dripping in sheer adoration. His eyes drew open and his gaze rolled back, then lazily toward you. Another tear slowly escaped the corner of his eye, and he wished he weren’t tearing up if only to see your pretty face more clearly. His eyebrows were still tense under the nearness of his undoing, tilted in a pleading pout.

“Please, please-please-please-please-plea— mmngh…” He pleaded and begged for release, no longer making sense of what was coming out of his mouth, eyes ever-downturned and watering once again.

He was helplessly putty in your hands, his body no longer his own, but rather a shell of just euphoria and feeling. He was floating and completely at your mercy, just as he loves to be.

“I love you, please, I—” His sentences grew choppy and more and more incoherent, his speech being mixed with unintelligible throaty noises. His chest rose and fell significantly faster than it had earlier, lips hardly separating as he mumbled a yesyesyesyes keep going yes just like that please, and his hips thrusted up to move his length further into your hand.

His desperate hands sought purchase from whatever they could grab, now tightly squeezing and scratching at your thighs. He readjusted his sweat-slicked palms as they slipped down your skin.

Your hand in his hair slid down roughly to grab his jaw in utter possessiveness, twisting it up toward you to plant a sloppy kiss on his lips. He did the best he could to return it. “Go ahead, baby,” you mumbled against his mouth.

He whimpered into the kiss, with no more capacity to spare you an audible ‘thank you’ as usual. You squeezed your working hand just the slightest bit tighter around his cock, working your way back up to his ever-sensitive pink head.

“Shitshitshitshit, fuck, oh, God. I’m so close, I’m so close, I’m so—ah—” How naughty he felt. Maybe you’d tease him later about the junk coming out of his mouth, flustering him with the thought of what the neighbours would think. But as a sunflower proved its affinity to the sun and its warmth, all he could do now was gaze at you mindlessly, his neck aching at the effort. Under the dim yellow lamp lighting up the room, he embodied the sunflower’s golden glow. Its face would follow the bright star by nature and so would Spencer's, happily compelled by some force of nature to show you his authentic self as he held on so close to his orgasm. You smiled at him.

The bed squeaked under his shaking legs. Lone tears made their way down his face, free-falling now, and he made no move to wipe them. As he neared his peak, you kept your hand on his cock, hand wrapped snugly around his tip, angling it toward his chest.

You grabbed his throat with the other, fingers squeezing inward toward the two valleys around his neck that carried his precious arteries, and he felt the first spurt of cum burst through with a loud wail of surprise.

“Baby—“ he tried breathlessly, eyes still attempting to meet yours to please understand what I’m saying, please be proud of me, “baby, I’m coming, I’m fucking coming, I’m…” His muscles spasmed and sharply leaned him forward, causing your hand to obstruct his throat just a bit more, and he was thankful for it if only to ground his shaking to a minimum.

His head was pounding and his vision grew spotty as he basked in the feeling of his life, and his penis, in your hands, and the purpose with which you handled him as he prayed for this state of euphoria to not simply kill him. Though that wouldn’t be a terrible way to go.

He fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, yet still saw only white. He was burning up and held no sense of himself as his muscles twitched in waves, knees buckling, though you were there to hold him through it all. His mouth opened in a silent scream as you continued moving your hand along his sensitive length.

His panting gradually became less breathy and more audible, now backed by a throaty groan with every breath he released. Your name became the only thought in his mind, and he let it shakily slip out of his mouth, not caring how absolutely brainless he sounded. With each spurt of his release onto his chest, each involuntary clenching and thrust of his hips, he repeated it. Whether a cry of pleading, gratitude, or adoration, he wasn’t certain—but it all centred around you.

You talked him through the final stages of his orgasm with gentle murmurs of praise, pushing his hips down to forcefully guide him through it. Good boy, Spencer. Keep going. I’m right here. You got it. You’re doing great. Almost done. I love you. You’re so safe here. Your ministrations on his sensitive penis didn’t slow as you patiently waited for him, though he had to rest his hand on your wrist to slow you down, eyes finally falling closed; you obliged. His body offered you one final tremor of overwhelming pleasure.

The horrors of the day seemed to have been released with his release. But with the way you were now atop him, cleaning up the mess on his chest with your tongue, then crawling back up to his own mouth to offer him a taste, he felt his once-against stiffening cock asking for more where that came from. His aftercare be damned. No longer overwhelmed by his need for solace, this new rise of arousal was geared toward you—thanking you, loving you, cherishing you, pleasuring you in the way his words so often failed to do.

He would do for you what you had so generously done for him, and more, if you’d let him. He could give you his tongue, his length, his fingers, a toy—or whatever you wanted. Offer himself to be used and taken however you pleased. Longed to give you everything he could. He was yours, after all.

Spencer told himself that there would be time for all that, though he always worried otherwise. Keeps it in his head, but he pleads every day that you wouldn’t end up like those he sought justice for at work, or be the body that haunted him until he arrived home to you, or the victim of a target aimed at him. Pleads every day that there would be more time.

But in the meantime, with not much else he can do, just as a sunflower would, he swears to turn his back to everything else dark about the world and follow his sun as long as he is able.

1K notes · View notes

wintersera · 9 months

Text

ever so loving leader

succubus! fem reader x aespa karina

summary: succubus!reader needing to relieve her hunger/lust by having some silly fun times 😊 (SEX) with her beloved leader.

notes: it didn’t mean to come out this late 😭 but i was pretty busy because of my vacation. anyways here it is.

cw: SMUT, mentions of aphrodisiac, oral (giving/receiving), strap karina? (uses of the word cock as strap), face riding, thigh riding, scissoring, pussy slaps 🤭, use of toys, mostly sub reader, mostly dom karina.

word count: 3.3k

before you had debuted in aespa, being a trainee under sm entertainment made feeding easy. with many impressionable, desperate, stressed, and touch-deprived trainees around the same age, as you were, access to feeding came easy. but in your current situation you couldn’t do that unless you were looking for a huge scandal to hit you.

it's due time for succubus feeding in the dorms. as close as you are with the members of your group, none of them know your true succubus identity, and thats for a good reason. unfortunately, it's daytime and you're feeling extra hungry today. you know you can’t go outside to feed you know… feeding requires you to have sex with someone, anyone, and you know that dispatch would surely be targeting your ass as soon as you step outside of the apartment you and your members live in. you wander around the dorm feeling groggy and extremely horny, but continue your pace around the dorms thinking about what the actual hell you should do about the situation. silence washes over the dorm as you think of anything to help you relieve your hunger. who would be willing to help you currently

hmm, it’s not like the manager would be willing to fuck me… and looking for someone in broad daylight would be downright stupid. what the fuck am i thinking about…

you pause for a minute, hearing the door lock behind you sensing a pair of eyes at the back of your head. you turn around and you’re met with a taller figure standing a few centimetres behind you.

“unnie? you came back quite early” oh… this is NOT GOOD FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK? FUCK???

karina, who had just come back from the gym, was standing at the door frame with her tight fitting gym clothes on. hair tied up loosely exposing her neck in the hottest way possible. you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about all the things she could do to you right now. thoughts like this would often occur, your mind having the tendency to drift into delusions about her dragging you to the nearest empty practice room to simply fuck the ever living shit out of you during rehearsal with the others. it made you feel sort of guilty, but surely she felt the same as you? i mean, you’d often catch her taking quick glances at you whenever you’d practice the choreography for your songs, but maybe that's just the leader in her. you always knew she had sharp eyes so maybe it was just your perverse brain that made you think that’s staring at you with lust in her eyes, but maybe that’s not the case. it’s not like you can help thinking about it anyway, you're a succubus.

as you’re reminded of your hunger growing, the need you have for the taller girl grows too strong for you to control. you have an idea, not so much a good one but oh well, you’d rather do this than suffer effects from not feeding, even if it means that your relationship with your leader would be a tad bit awkward maybe even broken with the way your thinking… whatever you’re hungry. gears turning, almost audibly, in your head. how would you convince your ever so loving leader to help you? disregarding your rationality you shoot a quick glance at your leader pulling her hand sliding it under your shirt. your unexpected action confusing the absolute hell out of her.

“rina…” a desperate sigh falling from your lips. “i know- maybe this is too much to ask of you, but can you please help me?”

a deep red decorates her cheeks, words fumbling out of her mouth. poor karina is left so confused. “what exactly do you mean by help, y/nie?” ignoring your obvious intentions ,she asks, concern laced in her tone. “what do you need? are you feeling alright? you’ve been pacing around the room for- quite a while now”you find her genuine concern for you endearing and somewhat… arousing- lost in thought. the word ‘help’ clanging through her head. trying her best as your leader, she doesn’t know what to do. sticking with her coherency would be best but you’re in desperate need of help right? it’s not like she can deny her youngest member.

“oh just… well… karina please just have sex with me? please?” the shock on her face as you say that? humorous, of course, cute as well. you’d be surprised at how red a person can get. already blushing profusely, her entire face flushes brighter than before it’s honestly so arousing seeing your leader all worked up.

looking attentively at your meek figure. her breath hitches, followed by a quiet gulp. the thought of ‘helping’ you intrigues her and to your surprise she obliges without hesitation. guiding you to the single room she occupies, secretly thanking god she doesn’t room with the other girls. the air is thick. rather than awkward, the room is filled with tension. you and her standing there in a room without any word or noise, for a split second you swear you could see maths equations scattered around her head. she takes a deep breath, relaxes herself and cups your cheek in one swift move.

“y/nie? Are you sure this is what you want?” how could she be so sweet? after the vulgarity, and especially abruptness, of your words and thoughts. all you could do is just stare her in the eyes and nod your head slowly. this is exactly what you want. before you is your leader, someone you adore, look up to and love so much. someone you’ve spent countless hours and days with, training and practicing together from dusk till dawn and now you’re here, so close to each other, inches away from kissing. the warmth of her breath hitting your lips. nothing apart from sex banging in your mind you take your hand and place it on the hand shes using to cup your face. letting yourself fall onto her bed, dragging her with you. hovering over you her expression plastered in what seems like arousal. well you’re not sure since its dark but the way she stares at you gives you the ‘okay’ so you, once again, drag her, but this time by the neck, forcefully smashing your lips together. messy wet sounds coming from both of your mouths as your kisses become heated. grasping at her neck whilst she’s breathing heavily as she kisses you as if she’s intoxicated off of your presence alone. as if it wasn’t enough she blesses you with her touch, feeling up and down your sides drawing shapes into your burning skin. it felt like your whole body was laced in aphrodisiac, feeling this good from just a simple kiss was simply crazy to you but it was so so long since you last did this with someone you admired, possibly even loved. why does this feel so good? although flushed at her own explicit actions she proceeds her attack on your body, her hands leaving the warmth of your cheek, undoing your bra with one hand and lifting up your shirt exposing you chest to the cold air, eyes gleaming at the sight of your bare breasts in front of her only a few centimetres away from her hands.

“am i allowed to go further?” innocently asking as if she wasn’t the one to lift up your shirt. wanting to do nothing but pleasure you in this moment she licks her lips waiting for your approval. gazing at her figure you nod your head, too excited to even speak up for yourself. she proceeds carefully, resting one palm caressing and fondling your skin sending electricity coursing through your system while the other hand pinches and twists at your nipple. parting her lips once more she lets you into her, desperate moans escaping her pretty lips again. the noises she makes filling your body with pure bliss, who would know that a simple passionate kiss from her could fill up your insatiable hunger for sex.

holding you under the shoulders making you straddle on top of her thighs parting your legs, core meeting the skin of her thigh. you bite down on your lip, lowering yourself slowly until theres enough pressure against your clit. steadying yourself by holding one of her shoulders and the other hand stabilising yourself on her bedsheet. she continues to kiss your lips, feeling her passion through each move, parting her mouth, biting the bottom of your lip and feeling her tongue search around the insides of your mouth. breath catching in your throat, you move back and forth rocking your hips rhythmically into her.

“does.. does this feel good?” suddenly breaking the kiss, your eyes already adjusted to the darkness you gaze at her dazed face, eyes half lidded as she’s panting heavily ,arousal apparent in her appearance. you take note of her disheveled hair, strands falling out of the once loose ponytail she had just a few minutes ago.

“it- it feels so good” closing your eyes as you let the pleasure course through your body. pushing yourself further into her as you grind on her harder than you were before. “feels t-too good” whimpering and stuttering out the words. observing the way you sway on her as you pleasure yourself she lends a helpful hand moving one hand from your breast and onto your hips allowing her to direct your grinding on her leg.

“move like this” she instructs, guiding your hips in a circular motion. you whine at the sensation, feeling the friction on your clothed clit even better than when she wasn’t holding you close. calling your name out breathlessly “y/n-” enjoying the way you writhe under her touch “you’re so cute you know that right?” unable to speak, you nod your head again. why does it feel so fucking good? writhing and shaking under her from the simplest of things, words, touches, motions. she’s so unbelievably attractive words cannot describe how badly you want her to take full control of you in this moment.

“you know what would feel even better” her voice ever so slightly trembling, looking at her with curiosity “let me do this for you” with haste she moves your panties aside letting your wetness spread across her milky white thighs. overwhelmed by the rawness of your clit pressing against your leaders thigh, a tightness in your stomach forms. throwing your head back, mouth slacked open as you grip onto her shirt biting down on your bottom lip, ensuring that you wont scream her name out loud. your pace begins to hasten, hips thrusting harder and harder into her, her fingers digging into your plush skin helping you ride.

“karina- gonna cum” you feel your inevitable high getting closer. upon hearing this karina grabs your hips harder pressing you closer into her. the sounds of your wet cunt and your guttural moans echoing through the dorm reverberating back into your head. feeling your climax rush through your body, you launch yourself into the crook of karina's neck biting down hard on her shoulder, muffled cries ripping out from your throat as your legs twitch from the intensity of your orgasm. moving your hips in lazy circles, karina kisses the top of your head riding out your high. “fuck that felt so good unnie” you comment as she adjusts you and herself so that you’re now sitting in front of eachother.

oddly enough she stares at you, not saying a word. snapping out of your high you panic “wait fuck, are you okay? was i being too needy oh my god i’m so sorry” you say frantically realising that you’re hunger caused you to act out in a horny daze, even though you still are. the latter finding it difficult to formulate a sentence until she coughs and speaks up.

“no it’s not that, don’t worry about that it’s just….” a hand scratching the back of her neck, words trailing off as if there’s something on her mind “your eyes are kinda glowing pink? i don’t know… and you have a tail?”

“OH, that?” you forgot to explain to her. congrats you idiot.

“what do you mean that?”

“i should’ve told you a while ago but i’m a succubus” tilting her head in confusion the idol lost in thought. “it’s like a um.. sex demon kinda thing. it’s hard to explain but i swear it’s nothing horrible. like i won’t curse you or anything please don’t worry. i just need to do this every so often and i’ll be fine” you explain the intricacies of what exactly a succubus is to her, seeing how she reacts to how explicit some things can get, piques her interests. she subtly grins, a few thoughts running across her mind.

already having sex with you she’s gained some confidence in her actions, although still somewhat shy about it “can i ask you for a favour in that case?” still as polite as ever. “ride my face.. please?” breathlessly whispering out her fantasy.

karina shuffles herself onto her back giving you a sweet smile as she beckons you towards her face, tapping the tip of her lips signalling for you to place your pussy in her mouth. sitting up from where you were you shuffle over to her, steadying yourself with you arms you hover over her. feeling the same pair of eyes scan over your practically dripping pussy. your leader wrapping her arms around your thighs pulling you eagerly onto her tongue, licking long strips from your folds to your clit.

“oh god fuck- feels good“ the sudden pleasure making you topple over. you place a hand on her head, entangling her hair, while the other hand steadies your body on the headboard in front of you. grinding on her face like you grinded on her thighs previously, speedily trying to reach you climax again. unknown to you she uses her free hand, snaking its way across your hips to your hole, wetness assisting her entry into your cunt whilst she hurriedly sucks on your hard nub. pumping two fingers in and out of your pussy, she groans at how wet you are.

“mmmfgh, so wet for me, so good” muffled praises creating low vibrations on your clit sending you into ecstasy. her praise making you feel warm but undeniably crazy. already feeling your high coming again you grab her hair forcing her to stay where she is, shouting and screaming for her not to stop and to stay in the exact position her head is located. you continue to fiercely fuck her face, karinas tongue messily licking as she pounds your pussy with fervor. close, oh you’re so so close to cumming every inch of you body being engulfed with immense pleasure. with teary eyes, a few tears falling down. you cum hard, screaming and gripping on the headboard like your life depends on it. exhausted, you drop next to her on the bed, chest rising up and down as you try to catch your breath.

still, your appetite is still there. mind only now focusing on having the same exact orgasm multiple times you turn your head to whisper in her ear “karina…please ruin me” commanding her to destroy you. swallowing her breath she gets up and walks to her dresser where she takes out her strap. wait when did she have a strap? and why does she have one??? not that you really care anyways but when did this happen? taking off her clothes leaving her completely naked she adjusts the straps around her legs you almost drooling at the way it looks on her. her black strap complementing her black hair exuding an lustrous aura around her although juxtaposed by her current bashful nature.

she looks too good to just let her stand there, so you sit up from the bed and kneel before her grasping the shaft of her cock. “let me return the favour” opening your mouth wide, letting her cock enter your mouth. of course, she doesn’t really feel it but the image of you on your knees sucking her off turns her on badly. at most you could call it phantom pleasure. gripping your head she pushes you closer to her hips making you gag around the plastic.

satisfied with your job, you return back to the bed waiting patiently for her to fill your cunt up a, happy grin plastered on your fucked out face. crawling over to you ,she comfortably makes her way in between your legs hooking both of them around her waist, teasing the tip of her cock at your entrance you wince at the coldness of it. first off she starts out slow, dragged out thrusts and sloppy kisses leaving countless hickeys on your neck. finally picking up her speed she pounds into you hard, wet sounds escaping from both her mouth and the friction between the two of you. “you’re taking me so so good y/n, fuck-“ gripping your waist again she takes one hand off, slapping your pussy, mewls and tiny squeels coming out each time she slaps you. on the verge of cumming once more she decides to take it up a notch, fetching a rogue vibrator and pressing it against your clit. it’s like at this moment she’s done a complete 180°

“FUCK? ah- karina it fee-“ cutting your words off your mind goes blank, again, orgasm ripping through you like crazy but she doesn’t stop there. still pounding into your abused cunt she fucks non stop. your nails digging into her back screaming and crying for her to calm down for just a second but she still continues. unable to process another mind fucking orgasm your jaw is left wide open, eyes rolled back, back arching, nails dragging down her back leaving red streaks. incoherent sentences rolling off your tongue, only things decipherable being curses and praise.

fucked out of your mind you stare at her shadowy form. returning from wherever the hell that orgasm sent you, you reach out for her. feeling guilty for all the hard work she’s done from fucking you good, you might as well help her get off. watching as she takes off her strap you flip her over as soon as it slides off her. with your new found energy, you take her leg and throw it over your shoulder immediately connecting both of your cunts together.

returning back to her bashful nature she covers her face with one of her arms whilst her other hand reaches for the sheets. knuckles turning white from gripping on tightly , her pretty tits bouncing from each thrust. pulling her thigh closer to your body you grind slowly on her, clits hitting each other perfectly sending waves of pleasure.“p-please go faster, y/n…” crying out at the slow pace you were going at. desperate for more she raises her hips higher in an attempt to earn more friction. wanting to give her a reward for helping you as you indulge in her request, grinding on faster. the burning stimulation driving you both crazy, you knew she was going to cum her thighs already trembling from her long awaited orgasm. the climax taking over her whole entire body, legs spasming as tears drop from her eye. spilling various amounts of thank you’s accompanied by her pitched moans still unconsciously bucking her hips into yours sending you into your final orgasm.

licking your lips full from the energy you gained (or drained 🤭) from her, you collapse on top of her giggling. “jesus christ i didn’t know you had it in you unnie, maybe next time i’m hungry you can help me out again?” you say as you lie down next to her, panting heavily.

“anything for you, y/n. just make sure the other members know about your identity so they can be prepared” ah… what is she implying?

#wintersera #aespa smut #karina x fem reader #aespa karina #fem! reader #gg x reader #girl group smut #kpop smut #aespa karina smut #kpop girl group smut

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madschiavelique · 9 months

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was a bit hesitant to ask this but thoughts on how Miguel would feel if reader was vv self conscious abt their body/said anything negative abt their appearance..? (talking abt this as someone who's also self conscious abt their body cuz i need to know how he would react/what he would say to the reader tbh 😭)

AAAAAAA BESTIE I FEEL YOU !! I'm part of the self conscious about their body gang - i just had to write more than just a thought on this<3

when it comes to self consciousness about my body, there's always one line from the song Paradis by Orelsan (french rapper), that says "Je comprends pas pourquoi tu t'inquiètes quand tu prends du poids. Pour moi, c'est ça de pris, ça fait toujours plus de toi." which i used in this text (clue : it'll be in italic)

summary : miguel reassures a self conscious reader on their body content warnings : comfort, fluff, miguel being a worshipper of you, genderneutral!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 739 tag list : @fandom-ash

Miguel is a man who notices details, all the more so when those details are related to you. He noticed how you looked at yourself in the mirror from time to time, how you sometimes stood on your tiptoes when you were sitting to make your thighs look less large, how some days, even when it was hot, you wore a sweater covering you completely.

You were used to wearing baggy clothes, oversized sweaters and t-shirts, baggy pants, nothing that showed too much of your curves.

He'd noticed how you'd changed your diet lately, and how the portions you allowed yourself were... far too small for a normal meal.

You were depriving yourself of your favorite snacks, and even when Miguel offered you some, you begrudgingly refused. He could see the pain in your eyes, and he couldn't understand.

Then one day, standing in front of the mirror in your underwear, you started to cry. Miguel came running straight to you, taking you in his arms as you wept silently, little jolts shaking your body.

He stroked your back and hair gently, letting the sobs take their place as you sniffled against his shoulder.

"Hey hey hey," his voice was low, as if he felt that a word or a gesture a little too strong could break you into a thousand pieces, "nena, what's wrong?" he asked, stepping back.

He wiped your tear-streaked cheeks, your eyes were reddened and your lips bulged with heartache.

"I hate my body."

His heart cracked, and he came to take you in his arms again. So that was the reason for all this, for your restrictions, for all these choices that were doing you more harm than good. He couldn't understand how you could think such a thing, because he worshipped you like the goddess or god or deity you truly were.

"I wish I just looked different," you murmured against him.

"Why?" he asked, pulling away from you again to cup your face.

"Because, I look ugly, I feel ugly..." you sighed, your brow furrowing as hot tears rolled down your cheeks.

His lips were parted, he couldn't understand how it was possible for you to feel this way, to think this way about yourself. He found you so beautiful that the very thought of you thinking that way seemed almost impossible.

"I'm not pretty enough to be with you. There are so many prettier girls and boys than me-" you began, but he cut you off, not even letting you finish your sentence.

"Don't ever say that again," he said, his tone serious and almost warning.

He looked at you, sorry and almost angry. Because he was wondering who he was going to have to correct (annihilate) for having succeeded in making you think you weren't beautiful.

"Come here," he said, lifting you with ease to rest you on the sink while you were still wiping your cheeks. "Listen to me: Your body is not the reason I love you. I've fallen in love with your soul, your qualities and your flaws... even if I'm still trying to find the flaws."

You blew out a quick laugh from your nose, a tear running down your cheek as he brushed it away.

"It doesn't make you a failure, or undesirable, or ugly not to have the body of a celebrity on the cover of a magazine." he said softly as he kissed your cheek, his hand gently caressing your thigh. "Why should you worry about gaining weight?"

"Because it makes me ugly." you murmured, but he gripped your chin between his fingers so your eyes observed the truth in his.

"No, it doesn't make you ugly," he assured. "Even if you do gain weight, for me it's a given, because it always gives me more of you."

Your chin trembled slightly, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"No matter how long it takes, I'll make you love yourself," he confirmed. "I don't care what you look like, I'll still love you."

You smiled, tears still gently flowing, Miguel coming to place both his hands on your cheeks to clear them. You let out a little laugh:

"Even if I was a worm?" you joked.

He smiled, sighing softly.

"Yes, even if you were a worm." he laughed, kissing your forehead before hugging you again.

"Lucky worm." you whispered, wrapping your arms around his back.

"Lucky me." he whispered against your hair, stroking it gently.

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

Text

moonlight on the river - joel miller x reader

masterlist | song inspo

summary: Joel has been many things to you. A dealer, a mentor, a friend, a lover. Lately, it’s the latter. Sometimes he’s none of those things, or a handful of them, or all of them at once. And it’s up to the both of you to decide in the moment which things are true. Takes place during episode one of the TV series. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 2.4k warnings: angst, fluff, good ol' fashioned hurt/comfort. depressive thoughts, reader sort of has a death wish, references to alcohol/drug abuse, death, loss of family members & loved ones. implied age gap, references to casual sex, heavy petting (no smut). a/n: it's been months since i posted a fic on here! some of my best work comes when it’s 2am, i’m emo and touch-deprived and i have an 8am appointment so i stay up until 5am to write. this was actually supposed to be fully a fluff piece but the angst queen had to strike.

You wish you could drown in the pile of blankets you’ve wrapped yourself in. Wish the couch would swallow you whole, like a whale, then drag you down to the deepest depths of the ocean and leave you there until you can’t hold your breath any longer, until the cold pricks the tips of your fingers and toes, until you succumb completely.

But in some ways, you’re already existing like that, in the sea-level equivalent of the Marianas Trench. One of those sea creatures that look not of this Earth, features warped – adapting, evolving, surviving, despite your environment’s best efforts to eradicate. Your mother had once shown them to you in her old textbooks and shown you the photos of anglerfish, frilled sharks, phantom jellyfish. The memory of your mother makes you wince, and you try to think of something else.

How anyone else around you managed to put on a brave face and make their way through each day was beyond your comprehension, even though you do it, too. They probably all feel the same way about it as you do, but no one talks about the collective trauma you’re all slogging through. No one has anything new to add, and it’s foolish to believe that anyone’s insight could somehow take the pain away. Even if you have a chance to tell your story, there is always someone who has it worse.

Get in line.

Exhausted as you are, you don’t sleep much. Most of your nights are spent at the precipice of unconsciousness, and you can never quite make it over the edge, the helicopters, radios, sporadic gunfire always manages to rouse you first. When you do manage to sleep, you’re plagued with nightmares. You prefer perpetual fatigue.

A knock at your door comes suddenly, and you start, sitting up quickly – but quietly – to not alert the unexpected guest that someone might be in the tiny studio you call home. It’s well after dark, which makes you doubt that whoever, or whatever is at the door, isn’t there for a friendly drop-in or a cup of tea, not that friendly drop-ins or cups of tea ever happened.

But before you grow too panicked, your name is muttered, accompanied by another impatient rap of knuckles against the hollow wood. It’s a familiar rasp, even-toned and calm, and your shoulders sag in relief before you abandon your post on the couch.

“Joel?” you ask softly, squinting in the dim light of the hallway through the crack in the door. He doesn’t look any different, though it’s been about a month since you’d last seen him. You’re not sure what to expect, but he’s the same as always, wearing a worn, tight denim shirt and fraying jeans. He looks tired, but you can’t recall a time when he doesn’t. Everyone looks tired all the time, it just only concerns you because it’s him.

Not waiting for an invite, he steps through the small opening you allot for him and into your place, wordlessly.

“What the fuck, Joel, it’s past curfew are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“I’ve done worse,” he says, dismissively, and yanks the door from your hand to close and lock it behind him.

You don’t argue with him. You rarely do – which you think is partly why he likes you – but especially now, you don’t have the energy. And when you do, he’s too stubborn to listen.

Joel has been many things to you. A dealer, a mentor, a friend, a lover. Lately, it’s the latter. Sometimes he’s none of those things, or a handful of them, or all of them at once. And it’s up to the both of you to decide in the moment which things are true.

So when he steps forward, crowding you backwards until your rear hits your kitchen countertop and you have nowhere to go, you don’t ask questions.

His hand cradles your chin, tilting it back to look into his sad eyes, and he kisses you. For a split second, it’s chaste, and you’re almost confused, until it’s suddenly not, and his grip on your jaw tightens, his lips parting. Joel stakes his claim, his free hand winding into your hair and pulling. You sigh, closing your eyes.

He moves both his hands to cup your ass through the flimsy athletic shorts you’re wearing, lifting your hips up and against him, making to carry you to the bed, or maybe even take you on the countertop – it could be one of those days. Everything he’s doing would normally light you on fire, and there’s a primal instinct that’s telling you you like it, but for some reason, you hesitate.

Joel senses it right away. You’re not sure how. And you don’t want him to. You’re prepared to submit, even though you feel numb everywhere, because you hope for the chance to feel something, anything other than what you’ve felt the last few days. He pauses, too, pulls back.

You expect to meet his eyes when you look up at him, but they are fixed on something else. Tugging on the collar of his shirt, you try to kiss him again, but he doesn’t budge, until you follow his eyes. An empty bottle of liquor sits on the bar behind you. Fuck.

“You’re drinking again.” It’s not a question.

“That was actually from yesterday,” you say, like it would make any difference. The remnants of a hangover have been tweaking your temples all day, biting the back of your eyes. It was half empty when I got it. It was just one night. I can have a couple drinks without getting out of control. Your brain cycles through several more excuses before you decide not to waste your breath.

“What did I tell you about this?” He reached behind you and lifted the bottle, holding it in front of your face like you hadn’t been able to see it clearly enough before.

“You should talk,” you don’t like being cruel, but you’re already desperate to end the discussion. He’s probably drunk or high right now, but it’s none of your business, and you’d given up trying to save him a long time ago.

You shift your weight to lower yourself off the counter and move away from him and the once-inviting warmth of his embrace. Joel doesn’t let you make it far, reaching out to grip your upper arm and tugging you back to face him with little-to-no effort on his part. His strength always startled you, even though it shouldn’t, considering his size. It also should’ve scared you, but the manhandling mostly just turned you on. Not enough that you were going to keep letting him lecture you.

“It’s different. You’re still so young.”

“What does that matter?”

He doesn’t have an answer.

You lift your chin, squaring up to him. “That’s what I thought.”

He puts his hand on hip and studies you carefully. Despite your attitude, you’ve never liked disappointing him. He’s the closest thing you have to a father, which you can recognize is an awfully fucked up way to feel about someone you regularly have sex with, but you lived in an awfully fucked up world.

There’s a wistfulness to Joel’s expression you’ve never seen before. He chooses to change the subject, and you’re thankful until what he says registers.

“I’m leaving town tomorrow night. You might not see me again.”

It takes a moment to process, but it hits you like a blow to the gut. So hard, you’re surprised you don’t stagger backwards with the force of it. Even when it settles, you know it hasn’t even sunk in all the way.

“Well…” you take a long, thoughtful pause, and offer the only thing that your brain can come up with, “....stay safe out there, then.”

“Yeah,” he runs his tongue over his teeth and squints at you. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

Snorting, you know it’s important to remain as blase as possible so you don’t cry. Although, you don’t really cry anymore. Even when you want to, the tears never come. At some point, after watching every person you’ve ever cared for die in uniquely devastating ways, you must’ve reached your lifetime limit.

“I know you. Something’s up.”

No, you don’t! You want to scream, but that would be a lie. It’s been three years since you met, maybe one since your….arrangement, or whatever you’d call it, had begun.

How the two of you had become so close was a mystery even to you. It’s not like you were charming or charismatic, or willing to put up the innocent act. You didn’t try to inflate his ego, which most men loved. At first, you didn’t even really like him at all. That changed with time. Somewhere along the way, things just clicked.

“It’s nothing that no one has ever felt before,” you shrug. Joel has his fair….or rather unfair share of demons, and is the last person you want to complain to. Most of the time, he’s unflinchingly guarded, but he’s shared enough – secrets whispered in your ear while tangled in damp sheets, your hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart – to make you wonder if you have it so bad. Focusing on a fixed point, a crack in the tiled floor, you avoid his eyes.

“Hey,” his voice pulls you back. “Don’t do that.”

“I’ll be okay,” you say. “I’m just having a d-a week.” A month, a year, a life. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze.

His face softens, his hand reaching to clasp with your own, thumb grazing across your palm. “Come here,” he murmurs. He pulls you against him tightly, tucking your head under his chin, his fingers weaving into your hair.

“You’re going to be alright. You’re a strong girl.” He’s too smart to believe that, you think. But it doesn’t stop you from pressing your lips against his sternum. His broad chest is sturdy, firm, and you close down your eyes.

Neither of you speak, and one of his hands begins to stroke your back in soothing circles. You stay wrapped in his arms for a long time. Long enough to think about how you might never get to do this again, and you suddenly want him in all the ways you never had him, and all the ways you had. Just one last time.

He presses a kiss to your temple. “I can tell you’re exhausted, baby. Let’s get you to bed.”

There’s no reason to protest, he’s right, so you let him lead you to the bed. You’re already in your pajamas, and he draws back the covers and tucks you underneath them carefully.

“You’re staying,” you say. It’s meant to be a question, but it comes out like command, and although you can’t stand the idea of pleading for it, would if you had to. You’re that desperate.

You hear the clunk of his boots landing on the floor, feel the dip of his weight on the opposite side of the bed.

“Of course,” he says softly, voice barely above a whisper as he slides underneath the covers.

Joel’s arm snakes around your waist, and you’re being pulled back against his chest. You wriggle to be closer, even though it’s not possible, his nose resting on the crown of your head, stroking your hair softly. He’s being so tender, so sweet, it makes you feel sick.

“What if I don’t want you to leave?” you turn your head slightly, so you can see him out of the corner of your eye. You want to be able to remember his face, in case you never see him again. He was handsome, you’d always thought that, even despite the years between you.

“It’s my brother. I don’t have much of a choice, baby.”

Joel had told you all about Tommy. You wished you could be resentful at his leaving to find his brother, but you knew you’d risk pretty much anything for the chance to see anyone in your family again.

You shake your head. “This…sucks.”

He offers a rare chuckle, one that vibrates through his chest and straight to the ache in your stomach that started when he told you he’d be leaving. “It does. I’m sorry.”

Joel sighs, his breath on the nape of your neck, and you shiver. “I’ll miss you.” It’s a simple truth you can hear in his voice without even needing to look in his eyes.

“I’ll miss you.” You reach for his hand.

You roll over to face him, his head propped on his opposite hand, looking down at you.

“You remember everything I taught you?” he asks. “Be smart, keep yourself safe.”

Joel had proven to be a pretty valuable resource when it came to survival skills. He’d taught you how to shoot a gun, to load and reload it, how to take it apart, clean it, and put it back together. You recalled the feeling of him leaning over your shoulder, adjusting your grip to shoot at a target. And even if most of his lessons in hand-to-hand combat resulted in him having his way with you on the kitchen floor – you didn’t mind it at all – you knew enough to defend yourself.

“I do,” you answer. “And I will.”

You think of all the time you’ve spent with him the past few years. How it has made things bearable. It’s likely the last time you’ll ever see him, and you know what you’re supposed to say. But for the life of you, you just can’t say it.

Instead, you lean in to kiss him, lazy and lingering, both your hands on the side of his face, palms pressed against the scruff of his beard. You pull away after awhile.

“Tell me about what it was like. Before all this.” When the outbreak began, you were just a child. It felt like a dream, your memory so fuzzy it was hard to recall anything except the worst parts.

Joel does, and you listen, captivated, though it’s not the first time you’ve heard it. For such a gruff man, he paints a pretty picture.

It’s easy to imagine what your life might be like if none of this had ever happened. It would have been better, infinitely better, for yourself, for Joel, for everyone. It would be better, but if it hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t have met him. For some reason, something about that doesn’t feel right.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #tlou fanfic #tlou hbo #the last of us #fluff #angst #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #hi please read this and say nice things to me i worked really really hard on this #writing #fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst

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beom-pyu · 11 months

Text

like the moon ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ huening kai

huening kai x gn!reader , tags; mermaid!kai , human!reader , modern fantasy au , fluff , courting , slightly inspired by the little mermaid ofc , rejection , angst , getting together ? in a mermaid way , mates/soul ties , reader is sleep deprived , taehyun is a smartass , totally not stealing outfit inspo from sugar rush ride as an addition to the plot wdym haha

warnings: making out , reader's gender isn't specified but you wear dresses , near death experience? reader almost drowns

a/n: hiiii! sooooo i tried something a little different this time for my fairytale-esque fantasy lovers??? lmk how u guys feel about it :] i hope you enjoy!!! (edited but not beta read so pls excuse any mistakes aaaa)

wc: 8.4k+

you love the ocean more than anything else in this big, wide world. you treasure the crisp air and the salty, but comforting scent of the atmosphere, the way the rays of the sun would bounce off of the rushing waves and onto your skin fills your heart with an uncontained warmth, and the sunset reflected on the surface brings you a sense of serenity. you have loved the ocean since you were little—growing up on the coast, the sea was basically your backyard.

your mother had nicknamed you “droplet” from the way you would always run into the house dripping with ocean water, spending most of your days out at sea swimming—your favorite thing to do was pretend to be a pretty mermaid, chosen to protect the reef from any bad guys nearby. the ocean is your home, your sanctuary… where you belong.

ever since you moved towards the inner, bustling part of your town, you have made it your mission to visit the beach every few days if you can, whether it be to stay for three minutes or three hours. so here you are, stepping onto the sand with bare feet in a secluded area of the beach, jacket discarded on some random rock, notebook and pen in hand. you prefer writing your lyrics out here; the sounds of small waves hitting the shore and the occasional squawk of a passing seagull always seem to calm you, letting you release any tension in your muscles. you have been overworking yourself lately, staying up all night to produce and write songs, barely having any time to yourself to just be.

you settle down into the sand, resting your back against a washed-up long, and from there, you let your pen do all of the work. the air is a bit harsher than usual, the breeze whipping around you, knocking the bottom of your dress up slightly with the movement. you cross your legs, digging your toes into the sand as you look up at the sky—it’s a dull gray filled with heavy clouds making their move toward your small town.

a faint frown makes its way onto your face; a summer storm must be coming soon. the clouds are still a ways away though, so you bask in the small time you have left to relax, writing down a few more lyrics as you listen to the quiet song of the sea.

words flow easily onto the page as you let your train of thought take the reigns, a familiar serenity washing over you. the wind, although slightly aggressive, feels nice on your skin—it’s a little clammy outside, the humidity of summer lingering in the atmosphere. everything is hushed, peaceful, and you think you can fall asleep right here on the shore.

the calmness in your body only lasts for so long—your body snaps to alert as a loud, echoing shriek interrupts the quiet. you tuck your legs into your chest as your eyes scan the beach, but nothing seems out of the ordinary, save for a forgotten towel a little further down the shore and the heavy clouds above you.

you squint a bit as you look out onto the water and a beat later, you notice a head peek out from under the deep blue surface. it’s not alarming in the slightest, though—divers do frequent this area during this time of year. brushing it off, you let your body relax as you settle back against the log, watching the diver go back under the water.

for a while, things go back to the way they were, your pen writing down as many lyrics as possible, tapping your foot in the sand as you hum a quiet tune to yourself. figuring out melodies has to be your favorite part of songwriting—hearing the words on your page come to fruition is a beyond-satisfying feeling. it isn’t until a few minutes later that your groove is heckled once again, that same shriek you heard before ringing through your ears.

your eyes immediately find their way to the water, your heart nearly stopping in your chest as you lock gazes with the same head you saw a moment ago.

you’re quick to realize that whatever you’re seeing isn’t a diver. the man, or rather… creature has emerald green eyes, almost glowing as they glare from above the water, its dark hair wet and pressed down against their forehead. something akin to white, fish-like scales line the side of its face, flashy and sparkling. you can’t see the rest of the face due to the waves, but the head goes back under before you can fully process what you just saw.

you’re frozen still—those unnaturally green eyes send a chill down your spine. there’s no way that was just a diver, or a passing fish. whatever it was, it freaks you the fuck out. maybe you’re just imagining things. you’ve been running on less than three hours of sleep a day, staying up late to write and produce. you have over 20 commissions to complete in the next two months, so to say you’ve been neglecting your health would be an understatement. thinking of the fact, you decide it’s best to head home early; not only to avoid the soon-to-come storm but also to possibly squeeze in a quick power nap before the all-nighter you’re about to pull.

shooting a quick text to taehyun about how you’re so looped out, you’re starting to hallucinate (and receiving a lengthy scolding of a text back), you make your way home—and you don’t let yourself look back onto the water after a third noise sounds from behind you. must be a dolphin mating call.

or something like that.

the clouds have parted for the sun the next day you make it onto the beach. the wind is still persistent, but it’s not as bad as the day before, so you simply zip your jacket up to your neck as you walk through the sand. you didn’t bring your lyric book today—partially because taehyun had chastised you over the phone about your workaholic tendencies—but you really just wanted to relax. there’s a slight crook in your neck from the awful sleep you had last night, your eyelids heavy and your movements nearly sluggish. this lack of sleep has really been doing a number on you, but you know the sound of the ocean waves can help you de-stress, even just a little bit.

as you make your way to your usual spot against that big, washed-up log, you notice things sparkling in the sand right where you normally sit. you tilt your head in confusion, making your way over with a little more ferver in your step.

a small circle of pretty shells rests in your secluded spot, sparkling as the sun hits their smooth surface. they twinkle like stars in the sky and you can’t help but gasp at how beautiful they are, luminescent and bright. in the center of the circle sits a small, rusted gold necklace with an attached hand-carved pendant—the symbol is a crescent moon with faint initials at the bottom that you can’t quite read. you look around to see if anyone is around to claim the necklace, frowning a bit at the deserted beach. someone must’ve forgotten their things.

you take a closerlook at the beautiful array, running your fingers over the awe-worthy shells—and one, in particular, catches your eye. it’s a pristine white, so rich you’d think it were manmade. it glimmers as you gently pick it up, holding it up to the sunlight. the color reminds you of those scales you had seen above the water the last time you were here.

it’s odd—whatever you imagined seemed so vivid and true. you can still physically feel the intensity of those green eyes, sharp and prying from where they watched you over the colliding waves. the sight had been so jarring that when you closed your eyes to rest that night, a pair of verdant ones glared back at you in the darkness. you don’t get enough sleep as it is, but you were barely able to get a wink of it with that image in your head.

you take a good look at the shell one last time, declaring it too beautiful to leave here all alone on the deserted beach—you slip it into your tote bag before taking a seat a few feet away from the necklace, just in case anyone comes back to retrieve it. the waves are gentle as they crash onto the shore, leaving seaweed, pebbles, and little crusteaceans in its wake. the sound is lulling as you settle your back against a nearby rock, letting your eyes slip shut to bask in the peaceful bliss.

you may have underestimated just how tired you really are, because as you blink your eyes open with a tiny yawn, you realize you had fallen asleep. the hidden gleam of the sun has moved towards west and you aren’t sure how long you’ve been here, but the uncomfortable pain in your lower back from the sharp rock behind you is telling enough.

it isn’t until you hear a small, surprised noise next to you that you actually will your brain to wake up. the scream you let out at the sight of a man crouched down next to you is absolutely embarrassing—especially with the way he simply fliches back a bit, his eyes widening at the sudden noise.

his eyes.

they’re a shockingly vivid green, round and dilated as he blinks owlishly at you.

they look incredibly familiar.

he seems to be just as startled as you are, and as your vision focuses a bit more, you notice the pearly white scales that sit on his face, glistening in the sunlight. tiny, pointy fangs peak out from his slightly ajar mouth, his black hair fluffed up and sun dried as it falls in waves on his forehead, framing his face prettily.

he’s very pretty.

but holy shit—you gasp as he blinks at you again, finally remembering where you’ve seen those eyes from.

well, this is great. you are so sleep-deprived that your imagination has now festered into some sick lucid dream.

wake up, y/n!

the man—the thing—seems to sense your disarray, a quiet noise sounding from the back of his throat as he reaches out to you with furrowed brows. you jump, moving back from the sudden movement, eyeing the fangs that rest on his bottom lip.

oh god, this dream feels all too realistic and now you’re about to get eaten by some sexy monster man! this is why it’s important to have a consistent sleeping schedule, y/n!

you can hear your heartbeat in your ears as he stands to move in front of you—from this angle, you can get a good look at his figure. he’s incredibly tall, with long legs that go on for miles. his frame is covered by a tatted black and white sweater that just barely hangs onto his shoulder and a satchel across his frame, his upper body completely exposed to the slightly chilling air. he wears loose white shorts that reach just above his knees, littered with holes and tears—as if they had been washed onto sea after a treacherous journey across the ocean. that gold necklace from before rests in his hands, the chain dangling down and clinking softly in the wind. it must be his, you register. you open you mouth to defend yourself as not-a-theif—but you’re quickly cut off.

he doesn’t speak other than to hold out the necklace to you with a small and insistent noise, his green eyes flitting quickly between yours. the pounding in your chest is incredibly persistent, every single bone inside of your body urging you to not take it—but your hand seems to have a mind of its own, reaching up to grasp the damp gold, your fingers shaking as they brush over the green-eyed man’s.

you can see the way his eyes glimmer as you warily hold the necklace against your chest, your breath stuck in your throat as he digs around in his satchel again. there’s no way you aren’t dreaming, everything seeming like a haze around you as you inspect the scattered white scales on his cheekbones, eyeing the fangs that slightly peek out from his mouth which leave shallow indents on his bottom lip.

his head turns towards you again and you feel your neck heat up from being caught staring, your gaze shooting down to your lap. you squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to wake up from this lucid dream, ignoring the way you can hear the man so clearly shuffling around in front of you.

you’re lucid dreaming, y/n. you really shouldn’t have eaten right before bed! wake up, wake up, wake up.

you count to ten in your head before you open your eyes again, flinching back as you find emerald green staring directly into yours. he’s kneeled down in front of you now, one of his hands in the sand next to your foot, his head cocked curiously as he scans your face—his thick, black hair falls into his eyes messily and up close, you notice the tiny beauty marks littered across his face and neck, the way his lips are bitten red, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

so you aren’t dreaming? then that means…

the man is cautious as he raises a hand to his chest, pressing over his heart before he bows to you. your mouth is dry—what the hell is going on?

you have no time to think before he lifts his head again, gazing up at you through his impossibly long eyelashes, the tiniest shadow of a smile slipping onto his lips.

“i am kai.”

his voice is clumsy and horse, almost as if he doesn’t use it much, and a heavy, unknown accent paints his words as he speaks. the white scales on his face gleam in the sunlight and you find yourself slightly intrigued, wanting to reach up and feel them, but stopping yourself from doing so.

the man… or rather, the creature seems gentle enough—if he had planned on biting your head off, he surely would’ve done it by now. you let your guard lower as you sit up a bit, the necklace still clutched tightly between your fingers.

“my name is y/n,” you respond quietly—and the way his face lights up is absolutely blinding, a broad gleam taking over his initially shy smile, his scales twitching in an almost cute way. you watch as his hand drops from his chest, moving into your space to cup the side of your face. your body immediately tenses at the unexpected touch, a noise of surprise leaving your lips.

he leans forward as if to kiss you and a surge of panic courses through your body, cringing away from his hold—but he does no such thing. instead, he rests his forehead against yours, mumbling something in an unrecognizable language as his eyes flutter shut. you’re frozen in slight shock, but the lack of fear in your body confuses you to no end. you should be trying to run away from this strange creature, but instead, you feel… relaxed. a calm washes over you as his skin touches yours, feeling yourself be lulled by the quiet words he speaks to you.

when he pulls away, the grin is still on his face, running his finger down your cheek before moving out of your space. you try not to acknowledge the slight emptiness that fills your chest at the loss of touch, a faint and warm trail lingering from where is finger had traced.

“you took… you took one of m-my shells,” kai speaks with an eager bounce in his tone, gesturing toward your tote where that glimmering white shell still remains. your eyes follow his hand, quickly reaching for your bag to pry it open and search for the shell.

“oh, i’m sorry! i didn’t know it had an… owner…” you trail off as his eyebrows furrow, his lips twitching downwards as you grab the shell out of your bag. “you can have it back if you want…?”

the creature’s eyes comically widen, shaking his head at your words. he pushes your hand back towards you, a small whine emitting from his throat.

“gift,” he states firmly, nodding towards the shell. you look down at the shell quizzically, everything slowly piecing together in your head bit by bit.

“you… did you leave all of those shells for… me?”

the bright smile quickly returns to the creature’s face as he nods fervently, his scales rippling in excitement. while you finally got answers to the weird phenomenon, you’re still full of bewilderment—what is this creature and why is he giving these gifts to you out of all people? it simply makes no sense.

“for you,” kai confirms, leaning into your space again now that you seem to understand. you catch the way his verdant eyes flicker with an emotion you can’t quite read.

offering him a genial smile, you gently place the shell back in your bag. “thank you… but… why?”

the creature cocks his head, confusion overtaking his charming features at your question. he turns his head to glance back at the water before meeting your gaze again, pointing in that direction.

you blink at him a few times, trying to understand what he’s referring to, but nothing comes to mind. seeming to sense your puzzled state, kai reaches into his satchel again—his eyebrows are furrowed with concentration as things clink and clang around in the bag. all you can do is sit and watch as he hums with contentment, pulling out a tiny metal ring before setting it in the sand before you.

you gape at the object, glancing down at the ring and back up to his eyes a few times—because if this is what you think is happening… and if this isn’t a dream… then you’re definitely hallucinating. you aren’t ready to get married! especially not to some strange being who clearly doesn’t know the concept of personal space.

“what is… what is this?” you ask quietly, your voice wavering slightly. kai smiles at you, nodding towards the ring gently.

“for the humans to know y-you are my mate, y/n.”

you blink at him, feeling your breath catch in your throat.

his what?

“i’m sorry… i’m not your… uh, mate. i—i think you’ve gotten me confused with someone else…” you begin slowly as you move to stand and get the fuck out of here; something you should’ve done when he first approached you. kai is quick to shake his head, his vibrant eyes dulling with something melancholic and heavy, reaching out to grab onto your bag so you can’t go.

“i am not confused. you are my mate,” kai speaks desperately, still kneeling down with the ring now slightly buried in the sand. you don’t know what type of creature he is, or what is even going on, but you are certain this doesn’t have anything to do with you.

you’re a human and he’s a… whatever he is. there’s no such thing as mates. he’s surely one hell of a hallucination. next time, you’ll actually listen to taehyun’s lecture about the side effects of sleep deprivation and too much caffeine intake.

“this is… this is crazy. i have to go,” you respond sharply, ripping your gaze away from his distraught eyes—something in your heart pangs deeply at the pure sadness on his beautiful face, your gut twisting with something sticky and vile.

kai’s fingers hesitantly let go of your bag with a quiet, pained noise, shrinking in on himself as you give him one last glance before quickly heading towards your car.

when you take a glimpse back to the shore as you begin to pull off, the man is nowhere to be seen—except for a slight glimmer of a white scale disappearing beneath the tide.

for the next few days, it rains—thick and heavy clouds cover your small seaside town, drenching every bit it can reach. the beach is closed off due to high tides, the waves all too harsh and cutting to be safe for visitors. being cooped up in your apartment is starting to drive you crazy—you already miss the salty smell of the water, the softness of the sand between your fingers…

and the calming touch of the strange creature you encountered.

it’s something horrible in the way that this… thing has been overtaking your mind, tainting your mind with emerald green every passing second. every time you sit down to write a new song, your pen develops a mind of its own; going on about the ocean’s waves, and glittering white scales, and vibrant eyes. it’s like a curse, the way you can only think about kai and nothing else.

after ruminating in your thoughts as the rain continues to nearly flood your town, you’ve come to the conclusion that kai wasn’t a hallucination. that shiny white shell sits nicely on your dresser, right next to the gold necklace you had been so selflessly gifted.

you try not to let the guilt eat away at you—the creature had been nothing but kind to you, but the uncertainty is too much. what, with the talk about mates, the gifts, and that eerie calmness that overtook your body as he whispered those foreign words to you… it sounds like something straight out of a fairytale.

it’s late when you settle into bed, your laptop resting in your lap as your phone sits on speaker next to you—they say curiosity killed the cat, but you need answers. sleep be damned.

“so what you’re telling me is that a strange, sexy man with scales on his face gifted you random shells and an old ass necklace before claiming you to be his mate?” taehyun recaps through the phone, voice coated in monotone incredulity. it sounds absolutely ridiculous when he puts it that way, but you’re having a hard time believing it even happened yourself, so you can’t blame him.

“i said a strange, sexy creature, not man.”

the line is silent for a second.

“y/n… i know you’ve been stressed lately, but don’t you think it’s time to bring these delusions to a licensed professional—”

“taehyun, this isn’t a delusion! it actually happened!” you huff out, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. you try to put yourself in his shoes—if your friend told you they’ve been approached by a majestic creature, you’d also recommend them to get help—but you know what you saw. what you felt.

“that’s exactly how delusions work, sweetheart. we may think things are real, but—”

“hold on, shut up. listen to this,” you click on a link to a news page set in your town, the article dated back to 2007. “two foreign aquatic creatures were spotted near the shore on june 6th, at approximately 3 pm. they are described to be humanoid beings, with scaly, fish-like features.”

“y/n, that’s literally like every fish ever.”

“since when were goldfish considered to be ‘humanoid-beings’,” you quip, actually rolling your eyes this time before you zoom in on the blurry pictures provided on the site. It’s hard to make out in the 480p photo taken from a distance, but there seems to be two people, a male and a female, washed up on shore. they have long, shiny fish-tails that glisten in the way the scales on kai’s face did, their torsos completely human save for the gills on the sides of their neck.

it’s all too jarring, all too real—and in your mind, right then, it clicks.

“please don’t tell me you think—”

“i think he’s a mermaid, taehyun.”

back when you were young, still the little “droplet” everyone knew, your grandmother would tell you and the other kids in your town stories about how she once fell in love with a mermaid when she was young. they’d met on the same beach you frequent and pursued their love in hiding. she’d go on and on about how he was the most beautiful person, or rather, creature she had ever laid her eyes on. how he was gorgeous and alluring—and the way his green scales sparkled in the sunlight.

you seemed to be the only one to ever believe her stories, even in the slightest. you already loved the sea, and the prospect of mermaids, real-life mermaids, inhabiting the waters you adored so much intrigued you to no end. you would stay at the shore with your grandmother after all the other kids had gone home for dinner, begging her to tell you more stories about this mysterious mermaid who held her heart.

she had said mermaids were forbidden to interact with humans, let alone be with one—but the two of them didn’t care. they had believed their love was too strong for even the wind and sea to tear apart. she spoke of how after the fishing industry became prevalent in their town, she had begun to see him less and less, until one day, he had stopped showing up at all—thus being the dull end of their story.

thinking back on her words now as you stare at the pixelated photo, things slowly begin to come together in your brain. he’s a mermaid. he has to be. there’s no other explanation.

“you’re still stuck on that? you know your grandma once told me a watermelon would grow in my stomach if i ate the seeds? i was scared for years, y/n. years! i don’t know if she’s the most reliable source—”

“this is the only thing that makes sense though,” you mumble as a pair of bright green eyes fill your thoughts.

it’s like something is calling you from deep inside your soul, something anguished and distressed—and it’s calling you back to that beach. you know answers are there. even if this all turns out to be some weird, ongoing delusion, you need to find out the truth—for your own peace of mind. (and maybe taehyun’s as well, seeing as he’s still rambling on about his fear of being pregnant with a watermelon.)

and in all truthfulness, you want to… need to see those eyes one more time.

it’s a horrible idea. actually, it’s in your top 10 most stupid y/n moments.

sneaking onto the shore is easy enough. there’s no lifeguards on watch, or any lingering public safety employees as you step onto the sand. only a sliver of it is visible—even your usual spot is covered with water as the waves crash against the shore with untainted vigor. the rain is heavy, grimly pouring from the sky in buckets. your jacket isn’t doing enough to block it from seeping through the fabric, making your clothes cling to your skin uncomfortably.

honestly, you pitched yourself to be smarter than this–-everything in your body, ever nerve and muscle screams at you to run around and go home. there’s no point in trying to prove something that simply doesn’t exist. they say the human body can only run on so much sleep before you start to feel out of character; and you already feel like you’re outside of your body.

it’s like you’re in a trance, under a spell as your feet keep on walking, your vision completely focused in the darkness of the night as you scan the water for anything. it feels like something inside of your body is calling for someone, the feeling profound and wretched to the point where it makes your heart heavy and raw.

that feeling tugs you like a magnet, past the public part of the beach and to a more vacant, woodsy area where trees and bushes reside, the branches hanging over and dipping into the water, leaves being whipped up by the unforgiving breeze. you’re close—you can feel it, deep inside your soul.

the waves are unrelenting as they tumble over eachother, some shallow ones hitting your ankles and splashing up your legs—and you’re too out of it, too entranced by whatever song is singing inside of your chest to watch where you’re going.

you trip over a rock hidden in the sand, falling over yourself as your already drenched form becomes soaked with ocean water, the harsh waves tumbling over you as you try to sit up. you’ve always been a great swimmer, phenomenal even, but the storm has turned the ocean into something wicked and unlawful, pulling you further and further into the water the more you struggle against it.

you’re tugged into the rip before your brain can process it, having only half the mind to call out for help—but it’s not use. the waves are too loud and the pouring rain drowns out any and every noise in the breeze. it’s too dark to see anything and you can already feel yourself tiring out as you fight to stay afloat.

the ice cold water does wonders to sober you up from whatever hypnosis you were under and now that your mind is clear, true panic and terror sets deep into your chilled bones. you’re going to die out here, in the hands of something you have loved since you were a child. things really do come full circle, don’t they?

the full moon resting in the condensed sky is the last thing you see before you completely black out.

you feel it before you even open your eyes. a heavy, burning hand on your back and a heated finger trailing down the slope of your nose. your entire body is warm from head to toe, your cheek cushioned by a soft, cotton-like material. a captivating voice sings a gentle song in words you can’t understand, the volume just under the perpetrator’s breath—the sound is almost completely muted out by the roaring sea outside.

the roaring sea.

you inhale deeply as if you’re searching for air that’s nowhere to be found, sitting up quickly with labored breaths. your eyes automatically lock onto a figure—an all too familiar figure with worried green eyes and luminous scales and soaking wet hair that drips water onto the sand.

kai.

you fling yourself into his arms despite both of your wet clothes. his touch is grounding and comforting as you bury yourself into the crook of his neck, holding onto him tightly. he doesn’t speak as his arms hesitantly wrap around your torso, his hands smoothing down your back in silent consolation. only then do you register the thick sweater that is strewn across your shoulders—it’s the same one he had on that first day you met.

the thought makes your eyes brim with slight guilt. he has just saved your life, even after you so rudely ran away from him. you want to apologize, but nothing comes out as you finally break away from the embrace. he won’t meet your eyes, and that fact alone makes your heart wrench.

“how did you… how did you know i…?” the words are stuck in your throat as you gape at him, trying to not let your eyes wander down his exposed clavacle where a few more shiny scales reside. kai’s pretty, pretty emeralds are sad—the kind of sad that radiates off a person and spreads to everyone nearby. your gut clenches. he’s quiet for a few beats before his hand moves to his chest.

“i… i can feel it. your fear,” he whispers, his hand resting over his heart as a visual communicator. you don’t know what to say, any words that come to mind die on your tongue just as quickly as they appear. your silence is incredibly loud as kai’s bottom lip trembles, hastily standing to his feet. your eyes follow him as he take a couple steps back, creating distance between the two of you. your body immediately goes cold, feeling a harsh shiver run up your spine, wracking your entire body.

“i am sorry,” kai mumbles solemnly, looking down at the sand below him, his hands folded tightly in front of his body. you’re still shivering despite the sweater draped across your shoulders, staring up at him as you wrap your arms around your body.

“why… why are you sorry?” you inquire, feeling your heart pang at the whine that leaves his throat. he won’t meet your eyes and you already find yourself craving to see those vibrant irises again.

“you r-rejected me as your mate. i must leave you alone now,” kai nearly whispers as he strictly keeps his eyes trained in the sand. he should be cold in his sopping clothes—this heavy wind and pouring rain outside of the small cove is enough to freeze just about anyone—but he seems completely apathetic to the weather.

an ugly, weighted emotion rips through you at his words, mentally cursing your past self for being so rash about it all. you don’t know the implications of “rejecting” a mate, but with the way kai is weary of stepping any closer to you, you’re sure you’ve done enough damage to last a lifetime.

“kai—i’m sorry about what i said. i’m still confused, but…” you inhale deeply, watching the way his scales sparkle with the reflection of the moonlight on the water. he’s truly gorgeous. “i’m willing to listen if you want to teach me. about what all of this means… about yourself.”

you can physically see the way kai’s breath hitches, his body tensing up as he just barely lifts his head, emerald green peeking through his dark shaggy hair. kai’s eyes meet yours and you feel something akin to relief wash over you. he seems to be waiting for something as his eyes glimmer with hope and hesitancy, so you give him an affable smile, warm and inviting, before patting the spot in front of you.

kai’s scales ripple as his weary demeanor softens, quickly moving to take a seat in the sand. he mirrors your position, pulling his legs up to his chest, your feet almost touching from how close he is to you. your heart stutters a bit as he watches you, his gaze filled with so much infatuation and mesmerization, it fills your stomach with knots.

“what would you like to know, y/n?”

the way your name rolls off of his lips, sounding oh, so elegant coated in his unnamed accent makes your head spin. his moles are placed perfectly on his unblemished skin like stars at night, his eyes shining like the moon herself.

“i want to know what you are,” you start, speaking quietly so that only he can hear your words. kai smiles at you, his pearly fangs showing themselves once again. they aren’t so scary now—not with the way his hands are so delicate as they mindlessly draw shapes in the sand or the way his scales ripple once again as enthusiasm overtakes his body.

“i am a mermaid. the sea is my home.”

the words would have surprised you, had he told you the very first time you two met, but now they simply settle the uneasiness in the pit of your gut. it all makes sense now. the scales, the eyes, the shells, and his fantasy-esque features… he’s a mermaid.

you inhale deeply to collect your thoughts—the fact that this is all real is too much to take in at once. you look down at your own feet buried in the sand, shivering again at a harsh gust of wind. your heart rate picks up as kai lets out a soft sound, reaching up to adjust the sweater around your shoulders, running his hand down your arm before retracting. the touch that lingers in his fingers’ wake is incredibly warm, feeling it spread throughout your entire body. you want to feel it again.

“i… i thought mermaids aren’t supposed to be seen by humans,” you nearly question as you find his eyes. something sharp flashes through them, as stormy as the night sky above, and you feel your breath catch in your throat.

kai glances away as he thinks for a moment, his pupils shaky as the words strike him. he’s tensed up again and you begin to think you’ve said the wrong thing.

“you don’t have to tell me, kai. i’m just… i’m just glad you’re here with me right now.” your voice is incredibly gentle as you coax him to look at you again, watching the way his shoulders slowly relax at your tone. he doesn’t look at you, though—his eyes stay trained on a random rock, his fingers twitching from where they sit in the sand. he’s quiet for a bit as you two sit in a light silence, the sound of the fierce rain and the rough waves outside filling in the space around you.

it isn’t until he takes a deep breath, those emeralds on his face absolutely glimmering when they meet your eyes. there’s no smile on his face, but his eyebrows are slightly furrowed and his eyes are so incredibly sincere, you feel it pierce through your heart like a sword on fire.

“you are my mate, y/n. i will do anything for you,” kai speaks, closing his eyes for a second. “even if i had to betray m-my coven to find you… my life is for you. nothing else matters.”

his words invoke a deep stirring inside of you—the urge to reach out and caress his face, to hold onto his hand, to feel his skin—it’s untameable. it’s as if a flame is ignited inside of you as he opens his eyes, hearing your heartbeat pound incessantly in your ears, watching the way his scales flicker as they reflect the moonlight. his eyes are entirely dilated as he scans your face, the vibrant green of his irises overtaken by his dark pupils—you feel completely bare despite being fully clothed, vulnerable like a butterfly pinned to a board.

it’s only then does he move, untucking his legs to kneel on one before you—almost an exact replica of the way he had bowed to you the first time you met. he reaches his hand out to you and without a second thought, you take it, letting him pull you both to stand. his fingers are ice cold, but a warmth spreads throughout your body like wildfire, a soft gasp leaving your lips as he tugs you closer. he lifts his other hand to rest on your cheek, his eyes flitting in between yours.

when he leans in again, you’re ready, your eyes slipping shut as he presses his forehead to yours. you can feel his breath on your lips, the sensation sending tingles down your spine. he’s silent for a moment before he whispers something in that enchanting language of his—even though you can’t understand what he’s saying, his timbre is like a lullaby, filling your head with cotton and stardust.

“i… do you feel it?” kai whispers as his nimble fingers stroke your cheek gently.

he doesn’t elaborate—he doesn’t need to, because you do. you feel the way his touch leaves a burning trail against your skin, the way his eyes pull you in like quicksand, entrancing and bewitching, and the way his voice sounds like music to your ears. you feel it all, and you’re nodding in response before you even realize it, registering the way his hand grips onto yours tighter, his breathing picking up ever so slightly.

“it does not matter if you are human, y/n. our souls are connected… and mine has not stopped searching for yours.”

you’ve always wondered why you resonated so much with the ocean. sand is a pain to clean out of shoes, the waves can be terribly unforgiving, and the tide even stole your favorite pen once. but nothing can deter the pull you feel toward the sea—or more so, towards what resides in the sea.

your mate.

you don’t have to say anything for kai to know you finally understand, blinking your eyes open as he lifts his head. his eyes are practically glowing as they lock onto yours, his fangs peeking out as he smiles at you, his scales rippling and fluttering animatedly.

“you are so beautiful,” he speaks through his small gleam. it’s such a cliche, but the way he says it holds so much weight, it squeezes your heart painfully. he says it like you’re a breath of fresh air, as if you’re the most captivating thing he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing with his own eyes.

the heat that crawls up your chest blooms throughout your entire body, wrapping your heart in a cozy blanket as his fingers trail down from your cheek to your jaw, tilting your head up ever so slightly. you don’t move away—and in all honesty, you have no desire to. he’s gentle in the way his hand lets go of yours, finger by finger, before moving to find a home on the small of your back.

you’re not shivering anymore. his touch is incredibly searing, yet impossibly calming, feeling your mind go dizzy as his eyes search yours for something you aren’t quite saying. it’s almost nerve-wracking, how the suspense builds up in your chest as those emeralds flicker down to your lips, feeling your body grow hot all over.

“will you allow me to… to k-kiss you?” kai whispers, not even the aggressive waves outside able to drown out his voice in your ears.

there’s no doubt in your mind as a breathy “yes” slips into the air.

he’s clumsy with the way his lips find yours, your hand coming up to his chest. his heartbeat under your palm pounds at lightening speed, his body slightly trembling as your lips move against his tranquilly. there seems to be no rush, melting into his embrace with each passing moment.

the press of his fangs against your lips only slightly stings when the tips of them dig in a little too hard, and kai is quick to soothe over the pain with a swipe of his tongue. he tastes of ocean water, a bit salty, but there’s another sweet undertone as well that you can’t quite place your finger on. you don’t linger on it for too long—you don’t want to have to use your brain, so you lose yourself in the feeling of his fingers against your spine, his thumb brushing over your jaw so delicately, you almost want to cry.

his tongue prods against yours as he presses closer to you, as if close is never close enough, as if he wants to sink into your body and become one. your mind is hazy, but you feel safe as his fingers trail down to the side of your neck, leaving fluttery, ticklish sensations in the process. he explores your mouth as if you are a cavern full of gold, mindless to the way small, needy noises leave his lips. it’s overwhelming for the both of you, engulfed in this little bubble you’ve created.

when he pulls away, it’s slow and reluctant, leaning back in a few more times to get another taste of you, peppering kisses down your jaw and your neck. you can’t help but moan softly at the feeling that stirs in the pit of your gut as he nips and bites and sucks at your skin—completely enamored with you.

he places one final kiss under your ear before his emerald eyes meet yours—you preen at the way he looks at you like you’re the heart of the sea, the ocean herself. it’s too much and not enough at once as you tuck yourself into his broad chest, your heart beating in sync through your dampened clothes. it feels right. this—him. he feels right and now you’re certain he isn’t just a measly dream.

the sky appears to be unreal, coated with lovely hues of pink and purple, a deep orange settling near the horizon as the sun lowers itself from the sky. it’s still warm out, the tide low as you tip-toe through rocks and shells, feeling your heart fill as tiny hermit crabs take cover in the sand, holding the bottom of your flowy dress up so as to carefully watch your step. the waves wash against the shore with a subdued rhythm and the sky is void of any clouds—the calm after the storm.

your breath catches in your throat as you see the man waiting for you at the end of the shore, his black hair mussed and slightly damp. it seems as if he’s been waiting for a while—he stares off at sea, sitting just a few feet from the tide as his hand mindlessly picks up sand and lets it fall through his fingers.

he’s oh, so gorgeous, even from afar. the white button-up he adorns is rolled up to his elbows, legs covered by brown pants that flow in the wind. his trusty satchel is slung across his frame, seemingly full to the brim as it rests in the sand next to him. a contemplative look resides on his face, his head slightly tilted to the side as his mind wanders. you almost feel guilty for the thought of disturbing this quiet moment.

but then you’re reminded that he’s waiting here for you—your stomach flutters as he turns his head, those vibrant eyes lightening up at the sight of your figure making its way toward him. he stands to his feet with the brightest smile on his prince-like face, his pretty fangs pressing into his bottom lip in the cute way they always do.

his scales ripple as he pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve ever experienced, a serene buzz washing over you as he safely holds you to his chest. you register the feeling of him pressing small kisses onto the crown of your head and you giggle a bit at the fluttery sensation. you tilt your head up to meet his eyes; and they never fail to make your head spin, containing so much sincerity that squeezes your heart in all of the best ways. he cups your cheeks, the warmth of his fingers spreading down your neck and blossoming in your soul.

“i missed you,” you speak softly, and you mean it—nothing, no one can compare to the way kai can make you feel so loved and wanted with a singular, simple glance. you dream about his little beauty marks, his wide smile, and those iridescent scales that sparkle when the sun hits them just right. even just a few days without being near him makes your core surge with a deep longing—and now that restless feeling finally dissipates as he leans in to kiss your nose, and then your cheek, and finally your lips.

“i have missed you more,” he mumbles against your lips, his nose brushing yours as he kisses you so delicately, attentive to every little noise that leaves your lips. his hands smooth down your sides, running his fingers over the soft fabric of your dress, coming around to press against the small of your back.

when the kiss breaks, you’re rendered breathless, blinking your eyes open to find him already watching you. the faint smile on his face widens as you reach up to carefully touch the sparkling scales on his cheekbones before running your fingers through his disheveled hair. he leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut with the gentle movement of your fingers.

“how long have you been waiting?” you question as you finish adjusting his hair, resting your palm against his chest. he hums in thought before he opens his eyes—and you’re in awe at the way the setting sun manages to reflect in them, looking like specks of gold against his irises.

“not long at all. i-i made something for you last evening,” he responds almost shyly. your eyes widen in surprise, watching as he takes a tiny step back to open his satchel. his cheeks are flushed a pinkish-red once he pulls out a handmade crown, woven with dried seaweed, softwood, and the prettiest, eye-catching flowers you’ve ever seen. there are even a few tiny shells tucked in here and there, and they all sparkle the same, twinkling as the sunlight hits them.

“you made this?” your voice comes out airy, in awe at not only the gift, but also the thought of him spending time handmaking something for you. kai nods timidly, looking up at you through his eyelashes. your heart threatens to explode as he gestures toward your body.

“m-may i put it on y-you?” he asks, a slight nervousness coating his voice and you’re quick to nod, bowing your head a bit to give him better access. a quiet, enthused noise escapes his lips before he can contain it, stepping close to you again. he adjusts your hair ever so slightly before situating the crown on your head. you can’t see yourself, but you’re sure it looks amazing by the way kai’s scales flutter, his gleam almost blinding as he moves back to admire his work. the crown is light and a few of the flowers tickle the side of your face. you feel beautiful.

“you know you don’t have to keep gifting me things, right?” you softly chide with a little chuckle, but kai’s bright smile falters at your words, cocking his head in confusion with a little whine.

“do you not… do you not like m-my gifts for you?” kai’s voice slightly trembles and you’re quick to backtrack, grabbing onto his hands with both of yours.

“no, no, no, kai–-i love your gifts. it’s just… isn’t the courting stage over? you know i’m yours, right?”

kai’s eyes sparkle with admiration as you speak, letting go of your hands to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you close to his body. he’s warmer than he usually is, and you suspect it has something to do with the humid air around you—the storm has long since passed, the shore drying up quickly, leaving only fluffy sand and a quiet, sedated ocean in its wake.

it’s a reflex now, to close your eyes as he gently rests his forehead against yours, a faint, contented hum sounding from the mermaid.

“you still deserve the entire sea and all of the stars, my beautiful mate.”

it’s horrible, the way your entire body tingles, feeling your face heat up from his words. it should be sappy and sickeningly sweet, but his voice brings you nothing but peace, letting yourself melt into his embrace as he subtly sways you both to the rhythm of the waves.

reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated!

tags! @grayscorner @banggyu0308 @huckleberrykai @agustdivne @yunhorights @quoththisraven94 @nes-caf

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#txt imagine #txt imagines #txt headcanons #txt fluff #txt x reader #huening kai x reader #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai imagines #huening kai imagine #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai x y/n #txt scenarios #txt x y/n #txt #huening kai #hueningkai #beom-pyu

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nightdiary · 11 months

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HELLO MILA <333

I love ur blog sm and i just realised i never asked anything ??????

So i was wondering if u could do something with beomgyu’s s/o surprising him at their recent tour 🫶🏻👀

word count: 2.1k genre: fluff, (secret) established relationship dear anon!!! thank you so much for your wonderful request, i hope i was able to do your idea justice! i had lots of fun writing this, and i've always wanted to try writing something similar! i'd love to hear your thoughts, thank you for your support and patience 🤍

the nature of your relationship with beomgyu had always been built on something light-hearted, even as the two of you grew into your separate selves and careers.

it’s what you believed kept your relationship blossoming– the spark as so many relationship experts had dubbed it. it’s what you believed kept you and your boyfriend together after so many years, after so much time spent apart, and after so many things had attempted to come in the way.

easily put: loving your idol boyfriend was easy because of the both of you were just a little bit unserious (sometimes).

the unexpected call comes at an hour too late for you to ignore. beomgyu’s manager is on the other line with a proposition that makes you sit up in bed and tug your sheets off urgently. you nearly think you’re stuck in the midst of a wishful dream, his voice a mere product of your sleep-deprived mind. but then he mentions something you’d been pondering on for months, something you’d never thought would be brought up to conversation with your boyfriend’s management team.

you’re left staring at your frazzled reflection in the bathroom mirror when he hangs up. he leaves it up to you to decide whether or not to tell beomgyu.

so, when beomgyu’s message inviting you to their last show on tour appears on your phone with a muted ding!, you decide to act. it feels a little mean, and it nearly makes you break your act when he sends enough sad face emojis to make the app lag, but you tell him you’re busy; unable to get a day off from your employer, who’s livid at the thought of you taking a vacation on such short notice.

it’s believable, almost too much so, because beomgyu answers with a voice message comforting you and promising to take you next time. he also sends you a selfie of him in his hotel bed, hair wet and lips devastatingly pouty, and you resort to turning your phone off to avoid telling him the truth.

you’ve come across countless photos and videos from his concert before, received even more from your boyfriend directly, but no amount of beomgyu fancams could prepare you for physically seeing him on stage. he looks absolutely incandescent, like a star that’s gotten to close to earth, and your lungs constrict at how effortlessly he carries himself through the songs.

the fervor and keenness with which he throws himself into his performance has left you awe-stuck every time, but seeing it on a stage in such a large-scale venue makes your heart squeeze with pride. there’s a certain glow to all of the members, really, one that made it hard for you to take your eyes off the stage during the entirety of the three hour show.

the stadium’s alive with roaring fans, the energy palpable in the thrumming air as each note reverberated like an echo. the eagerness in your throat nearly suffocates you. with every passing song, you could feel yourself growing more and more nervous, increasingly unsure of how beomgyu will react. despite sitting somewhat close to the stage, he has yet to acknowledge that he’s seen or recognized you.

beomgyu’s eyes briefly meet yours during one of the ments when he’s scanning through your section. his gaze pauses on you for just a moment longer, enough to let you see the brief flicker of shock on his unassuming face, before he schools himself and moves on to fans that are seated higher up. but you still manage to catch his gaze on you every now and then throughout the remainder of the show, fleeting and brief, yet progressively more incessant as everything draws to a close.

you swear you see him mouth something at you, but then confetti’s being blast out and you’re drowning in the screams around you. admittedly, the hardest part is waiting for the venue to begin emptying out, enough so that you can find a trusted staff member and be escorted backstage. you’re unsure of how long after the show it’s been when you can finally slip away to see beomgyu, but it’s all forgotten in the past when you turn into a room and see him staring back at you, this time unabashedly.

everything around you bleeds into hazy, distant nothingness as you run forward to close the gap between you two. beomgyu’s arms encircle you like a lifeline, pressing you into his chest with a measured tenderness. he’s warm and firm and familiar, and as he tucks himself into your shoulder, you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“i can’t believe you made it,” he mumbles against your neck, hold tightening around your waist. he’s sweaty all along the front, shirt practically drenched through after hours of performing, but all you can think about is the fact that he’s finally here. not on a screen. not in your fleeting thoughts throughout the day.

“airplanes are a crazy invention,” you joke breathlessly.

beomgyu laughs wetly from where he’s nuzzling your collarbones, seemingly intent on getting as close as physically possible to you. your own hand raises to card itself through his damp locks, untangling them where they’ve gone unruly from his dancing. you almost feel awkward with the mill of staff around you, but they look too busy tending to the clean-up process to even worry about the two of you huddling in the middle of it all.

“you two are so cute,” you hear from behind you, and as you crane your neck to meet taehyun’s genuine eyes, you flush.

stepping back from the hug, you feel beomgyu’s calloused palms move to cup your cheeks, gently cradling your face with a tenderness so raw it nearly hurts. he’s looking at you with such intent, almost as if in belief that you’re real and in front of him, and you resist to rock forward on your toes and kiss him square on the mouth. his thumbs smooth over your damp cheeks, and you realize with a start that you’ve been crying.

as the room continues to crowd with more staff filtering in, beomgyu takes the initiative to pull you into one of the more secluded corners of the lounge for some semblance of privacy. you lean back against the wall and peer up at him through your lashes, studying the way the glitter of his makeup catches the light. he’s even more beautiful up close, impossibly ethereal, and your heart aches at the thought of leaving him again.

the rest of the members seem to have also taken note of your presence, judging by kai’s excited holler from the doorway, and you preen under their attention when they crowd into your corner. beomgyu makes a noise of complaint when they circle around you, but the frown on his face doesn’t last long as he watches you hug the rest of his bandmates. they’re all still dressed in their stage outfits, equally sweaty and noticeably exhausted, and yet they greet you with such heartfelt enthusiasm that you feel yourself go warm all over.

“no way, you didn’t tell us you were coming!” soobin pulls back from smothering you to look you over, gasping when he notices the tour shirt you’d slipped on over your outfit. “you’re wearing the one beomgyu sent you! oh, i hate couples. i’m going to be sick–”

soobin breaks off, pretending to gag, and you swat at him with a smile so wide that hurts your cheeks.

“we’ve missed you so much,” kai continues earnestly, grinning impishly, “probably more than gyu, if we’re being honest.”

“careful, i know where you’re sleeping tonight,” your boyfriend grumbles, sticking his tongue out at the both of them as he scoots into your side, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“so do i? we’re literally staying on the same floor…”

“at this point, can’t we just ask manager-nim to get an extra room at our hotel for you?” yeonjun’s question is innocent, but it makes you go warm all over. partly from excitement, partly from embarrassment.

“no way, your manager’s done already done so much for me.” that was an understatement. he’d been more than understanding when you’d first brought the idea up to him, been too kind and patient in sorting out details and ruling out alternatives. he’d pulled too many strings to secure you a spot at the show, backstage even, that it felt outright inconsiderate to ask for more. you’d gotten to see beomgyu shining from afar, gotten to see him sweaty and tired and soft between your arms.

it was enough, no matter how selfish you wanted to be.

“it’s okay,” a deeper voice cuts you off before you can continue, and you back up into beomgyu in surprise. their manager laughs good-naturedly at your shock, moving in between the members and reaching out to shake your hand in greeting.

“it’s okay?” you squeak, meeting his hand tentatively.

“i appreciate your consideration,” he nods, turning to pat beomgyu on the back. “the boys have all worked really hard on this tour. it’s the last stop, and they have a long flight back to korea tomorrow. what’s one night of celebration? you’ll have to take a separate car and follow extra protocol, but it won’t be anything our team can’t handle. beomgyu, think of this as my congratulation to you for a successful tour.”

“if beomgyu gets to be with his partner, i want in-n-out,” soobin pouts, and everyone in the circle breaks off into laughter. yeonjun seconds this with a raise of his hand, and you watch with amusement as kai and taehyun quickly follow suit.

“thank you,” beomgyu whispers to his manager, smile sincere and flustered. his hold on your hand tightens, and you look over at him to share a knowing look.

the anxiousness at the back of your mind doesn’t disappear as beomgyu and the rest of the members go through the motions of warming down and preparing to leave. you’re instructed to wait on one of the empty couches in the corner, leg bouncing restlessly as you watch your boyfriend disappear down the hall, presumably to change into something with less frills and gems.

outside, you can still hear the hum of excitement from the venue, though considerably scaled down from what you remember it being during the show. your heart squeezes with pride at the thought of how far they’d all come– sold out venues with capacities the size of small towns. an achievement so deserving, and yet once unfathomable to the entire group.

beomgyu returns clad in sweatpants and a loose shirt, face wiped clean of highlights and glitters. he seems almost bashful as he approaches you, looking around with a shy quirk to his mouth as he comes to back you up against the corner. you know what’s coming before he even leans in to peck you, know from the determination in his eyes that this isn’t the last you’ll be seeing of him like this tonight.

“ready to head out?” he asks once he pulls back, reaching for your hand with a smirk playing at his lips. your fingers comfortably slip between his, and as you make your way out after the staff, you clear your throat and try to hide the blush on your cheeks.

“i also want in-n-out,” you say.

your boyfriend’s answering laugh is loud and fond, and it rings down the hallway like peals of bells. he leans into your side, nudging you with his shoulder, and you note that he still smells like the body wash you have at home.

“almost sounds like you’re more excited for the food than to spend time alone with me,” he pouts.

flicking him on the forehead, both of you pause before a set of doors, ones you assume lead to the exterior of the building. you know his manager isn’t far behind you, and after being briefed on the measures you’d have to adhere to once outside, you think it’s best you stick by a familiar face. the security milling around should have you feeling more on edge, but beomgyu’s secure hold on your hand is enough to make you forget all about the predicament.

“i’ll see you at the hotel,” he promises.

there’s a crowd of staff forming behind you, commotion rising in the hallway as the team prepares to leave. you look at the flutter of beomgyu’s lashes as he looks up at them, then back at you, and you hum quietly when he begins to let go of you hand.

“with in-n-out?”

beomgyu’s smile is blinding, like that of a star you’re finally able to hold in the cusp of your palms. “with in-n-out.”

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