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soaps-mohawk · 2 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 13: Piece Me Back Together

Summary: Your pack deals with the aftermath of your heat.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl), spanking (it’s like once), choking (kind of), light Dom/sub dynamics, Johnny's praise kink, excessive use of the word cock, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief mention of blood, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff

A/N: Well folks, we've made it past the heat portion of the fic. Now things can really start moving. Lots of aftercare, some world building, and of course a little spice at the end for you all to enjoy (as if the last chapter wasn't enough lol). I tried to catch all the possible tags for this one but as always, let me know if I missed one. The smut happens in the very last scene, so if you'd prefer not to read it, then skip that last little bit. You won't really miss much. Also, there's a lot of jumping around in time in this one so I tried to mark when things are happening relative to the present moment in the fic.

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6 Days Ago

“Looks comfortable.”

Kyle glances up as Johnny closes the door to his room, blanket and pillow in hand. “Slept on worse.” He shrugs, glancing down at the cot set up in the hallway before looking back up at Johnny. “Moving out?”

“Camping in Si’s office for the next week. Keep our distance.” He nods at the closed door.

“Probably for the best.” Kyle says. “Have fun!”

“Don’t enjoy yourself too much.” Johnny winks at him before making his way down the hallway and disappearing around the corner.

Kyle shakes his head, starting to sort through the many bags of supplies they’ve stocked up on in preparation for their omega’s heat. They’re well prepared, all of them, for the next week, Kyle especially. He’s spent the last few days reading up on what to expect, how to best help and support his alpha and omega, and what to look out for in case things start going wrong. He doesn’t think they will. He has a lot of faith in Price and he knows Price will take good care of their omega.

Still, he can’t help but feel a bit nervous. He has a big job to do, even though there’s not much to do until after the heat is over with. He just has to ensure Price doesn’t hurt you accidentally, or maul you to death. He doesn’t think that’s likely to happen, but then again, one can never know.

Kyle lets out a shaky breath, grabbing the bags with the electrolytes and nutrient bars before heading for your door.

It’s going to be a long week.

Present Day

It’s quiet. Has been for almost an hour now. Kyle rises from the cot, slipping his phone into his pocket. He slowly approaches the door, leaning in to listen for a moment before putting his hand on the knob. He lets out a breath before pushing the door open slowly, slipping in and closing the door quietly. The smells in the room are worse than they had been last night, a toxic mix of omega, alpha, sex, and sweat. He takes a moment to breathe, adjusting to the scent.

You and Price are spooned together on the bed, asleep, or at least you are. Price had pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in. Kyle approaches slowly, not wanting to accidentally step on a wrapper and startle either of you and risk you getting scared or Price getting territorial. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, your body temperature significantly lower than it had been even last night. He pulls the forehead thermometer from his pocket, taking your temperature quickly before sending a text to Dr. Keller.

He carefully lifts the blankets, checking beneath. You’re still locked together as he expected, and he lowers the blankets back down, tucking you both in again. He unplugs Price’s phone from the charging cord that he’d plugged in last night, rotating it to your phone. He knew the chances of either of you being aware enough to use a phone for anything would be low, but just in case, he kept them both charged.

He tiptoes through the mess of wrappers and bottles, grabbing the bag of trash that he had started a couple days ago. He picks up the mess on the floor, cleaning off the nightstand as well before setting out a new bottle of electrolytes and a couple nutrient bars. There’s still quite a few left, but those could be saved for your next heat.

Price stirs a bit as Kyle sets the bag of trash off to the side next to the bag of things that would have to go to the wash. He hurries over, gently keeping Price from moving too much.

“Easy. You’re still knotted.” He says, putting a hand on Price’s shoulder as you let out a quiet sound. His skin is warm and sticky from sweat, and probably other things.

Price rubs his eyes before blinking up at Kyle. “What day is it?”

“Morning of the sixth day.” He answers, passing Price the bottle of electrolytes. “I think it’s over. Her temperature’s back to normal. Just waiting on Dr. Keller’s opinion.”

Price hums, unscrewing the cap from the bottle before taking a long drink. “Feel like shit.”

Kyle grins. “Been a long week for you, Cap. How do you feel?”

Price screws the cap back on the bottle before leaning over you to place it on the nightstand. “Like I got hit by a truck and rolled down a hill.”

“Speaking from experience, sir?” Kyle smirks.

Price gives him a look before closing his eyes again, relaxing against your back. He lets out a groan as his knot deflates, his cock slipping from your folds. “Christ, that's going to hurt later.”

“Let me get the bath started.” Kyle says, going into your bathroom.

He starts the water, making sure it’s warm enough before he grabs the epsom salt off the counter and adds some in. He leaves the water running as he moves back to the bedroom, helping Price off the bed first. The alpha groans as he stands, leaning heavily against Kyle’s side. Kyle wraps his arm around his shoulders, supporting Price as they make their way to the bathroom.

“I’ve been beaten, tortured, shot. I’ve jumped out of moving cars, been in helicopter crashes.” Price says, grunting as Kyle helps him down into the bath. “This might be the worst I’ve ever felt.”

“Not quite as spry as you used to be, old man?” Kyle teases, making sure he’s comfortable.

“Plenty spry, but god I forgot how energetic omegas can be.” Price leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes.

“Just relax.” Kyle says, turning off the water. “I’ll bring her in.”

He heads back into your room, approaching the bed. You’re shivering, eyes squeezed closed and eyebrows pinched. Kyle kneels down next to the bed, placing a gentle hand on your arm. You start a bit at the touch, a quiet whimper leaving your lips.

“Shh, easy love.” Kyle tries to soothe you as you shake. “You’re alright.”

You let out a whine, seeking out your alpha in your disoriented state. The bathwater splashes as Price shifts in response to your call, his own instincts still on high alert.

“Let’s get you into the bath.” Kyle says before gently slipping his arms under you and lifting you up.

You let out a whine in protest, your body sore and aching from the last six days. Kyle quickly carries you to the bath, easing you into the water between Price’s legs. You’re trembling, quiet whines leaving your lips as he eases you back against Price’s chest. The alpha wraps his arms around you, a quiet rumble sounding from his chest as he tries to ease your disorientation and discomfort.

Kyle leaves you and Price there to soak as he heads back to the room to strip the sheets and start the laundry. Most of your pillows and stuffed animals are stacked in the corner of the room by your desk, spared from the mess that the bed has turned into. The sheets are still wet with a concoction of fluids, and he knows they’ll need to soak for a while. He stuffs them into the bag with your clothes, along with your blankets, before he heads down the hall to the laundry room.

He checks on you and Price when he returns, both of you content still in the bath. He can’t help but smile as he watches the two of you, pride swelling in his chest at the sight of his alpha taking care of their omega.

Their omega.

It seems almost strange to think now. They’d gone so long without an omega, and thought they wouldn’t be getting one. Now, six weeks later, they’ve all fallen head over heels for a little omega none of them even knew they needed. He can’t imagine life without an omega now, how well you fit into their pack, how well you fit with all of them, how you’ve only served to make them stronger and more efficient.

He hates to admit that perhaps Laswell was right.

Maybe they did need you after all.

Kyle bags up the plastic mattress protector, glad to see it did its job. He replaces the sheets and blankets for now, knowing you’ll want to nest once you’re more aware. He checks his phone before heading back into the bathroom, kneeling down next to the tub. Your shaking has subsided, reduced to a shudder here and there as you’ve slowly relaxed in the hot water.

Kyle grabs a cloth and your body wash, starting to gently clean your skin, or at least get the sweat and other fluids off. Bruises litter your skin and the claiming mark on your shoulder is scabbed and angry. Kyle carefully washes it, not wanting to apply too much pressure as he cleans off the dried blood still stuck to your skin. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while.

“What did Dr. Keller say?” Price asks as he helps ease you up so Kyle can wash your back.

“Said if her temperature is normal then the worst is over.” Kyle answers. “She wants to do a check up soon, make sure everything’s alright. Said she’d come here to do it, if that’s alright.”

Price grunts quietly as Kyle starts to wash his chest. “That’s fine. Easier than going all the way to the medical building. Simon and Johnny?”

“Fine.” Kyle answers. “Been keeping busy running drills and stuff. Johnny’s been keeping Simon occupied.”

Price hums, letting his eyes close as Kyle washes his neck and shoulders. “Good.”

Kyle makes sure to get all of the soap rinsed off before pulling the plug on the water, carefully lifting you up to stand. He lets you lean against him, grabbing one of the towels to dry you off as best he can. Price gets himself standing, drying himself off as Kyle helps you back to bed. Price joins you, wrapping his arms around you tight as Kyle tucks the blankets up around you both.

“Can I get you anything?” Kyle asks as he sets a new bottle of electrolytes on the nightstand. “Real food maybe?”

“I’d kill for some bangers and mash, maybe a pint.” Price says, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” Kyle says, glancing at you one last time before he leaves the room.

Your body aches. There’s a deep soreness in your muscles, and a painful throb between your legs. Your skin feels raw and tight, and there's a steady pulse behind your eyes. A quiet sound leaves your lips before you can stop it, the sound cracking and broken from your raw throat. There's a desert in your mouth again, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth.

Your thoughts are dragged away from the agony in your body as a quiet rumbling starts somewhere in front of you, your brain going quiet except for the need to seek it out. You press yourself closer to it, meeting warm skin as you try to get closer and closer. You want to bury yourself in it, seep into its depths until you can feel the vibrations of it in your bones. Arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer until you're squished against a bare chest.

You press your face against the soft skin, trying to get closer to the rumbling purr vibrating from deep within. You let out another sound, body going lax as the purr lulls you into a relaxed state. The tension leaves your body, easing the ache in your muscles a bit. Not much, but enough to pull a relieved sigh from your lips.

“Easy, love.” A quiet voice says, another hand touching your back.

You tense slightly at the intrusion on your safe space, but quickly relax as the hand stills on your skin. The calming scent of beta overtakes you, easing your mind to a quiet hum as your alpha and beta work to calm you. You feel a bit disoriented as reality slowly begins to return, seeping back into your brain.

You went into heat.

You remember waking up with the blistering inferno burning hot within you, the insatiable need pulsing between your legs. You remember Kyle being there, the soft scent of him as he helped you prepare, pulling off your clothes and making you drink some of the electrolytes. You remember John entering the room, the way his scent made your brain feel like mush. You remember him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, his knot forcing you open before everything went dark.

Everything else is a dark blur, wiped from your memory after your instincts took over.

You shift against the body you’re pressed close to, a deep ache rippling through you. It hurts, everything hurts. Your hips are sore, your shoulder is throbbing, every muscle feels like you just did a triathlon with no training, and there’s a sharp throbbing between your thighs.

You’re crying before you even realize it, the tears uncontrollable as they slide down your cheeks, the quiet sniffles and sobs aggravating your already aching body. The arms around you tighten, the purring getting louder, but you can’t stop the onslaught of tears.

You flinch as something tickles the skin of your forehead, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. You let out a whine as you continue to cry, your mind a swirl of confusion and disorientation as you try to come to terms with everything that’s happened. You don’t know how long it’s been, what day it is. You don’t even know what happened to you in the last week.

You continue to cry, oblivious to the conversation happening over you, the gentle purring in your ears lulling you into a dazed state as you float in and out of consciousness. The pain of being moved momentarily brings you back before you settle again, laying back against a chest. A baggy shirt is pulled over your head, smelling of your alpha. The fabric feels different than it had days ago when you’d woken up in the throes of your heat. It’s soft, not offending, and it offers you warmth and comfort.

You don’t want to move, you don’t want to do anything. Exhaustion pulls at the edges of your mind as you lay there, the tears still streaming down your cheeks.

He hasn’t stopped purring since you woke up. The low rumble in his chest hasn’t stopped, and neither has the ache blooming there since you started crying. Even in your dazed, half asleep state, the tears still roll down your cheeks, quiet shaky breaths catching every so often. He’s not sure what to do, how to help. He’s never been with an omega that’s cried before. Not like this.

His purring kicks up in volume as you startle awake when the door opens, letting out a broken whimper as your space suddenly gets invaded. He tries to soothe you, his arms tightening around you to try and ground you in his presence.

“Hi, honey.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling down next to the bed, her voice soft and the scent of beta thick in the air. “Still a bit out of it, huh?”

“She hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your arm with his thumb.

“That’s not unusual.” Dr. Keller says, digging through her bag to pull out a thermometer. “There’s a lot going on right now for her. Besides the exhaustion and the confusion and the pain, there’s a lot of rapid hormonal changes happening. Some omegas can just wake up and hop out of it immediately and be just fine.”

John frees one of your arms so Dr. Keller can take your pulse and blood pressure.

“Others might struggle a bit more.” She continues. “Purebred omegas especially have a hard time coming out of it. They’re more sensitive to those instincts and the sudden cut off of them is rather jarring.” She puts her equipment back in her bag. “Her vitals look good, which makes me confident to hold off on any further examinations until she’s more alert and aware.”

“Are there things we should look out for?” Kyle asks.

“She’s going to be drowsy and fatigued for a while, but if you can’t wake her at all, call me. If her breathing gets shallow or her pulse weakens or she starts developing a fever again, call me. Also check for blood the next time she uses the bathroom. Her vitals aren’t showing any indication of internal injuries, though, so I think she’ll be just fine.” She pulls a pill bottle from her bag. “I’ve prescribed some muscle relaxers for her. There’s a week’s worth in there. It’ll help with the pain and discomfort, but they will make her sleepy. The best thing she can do right now is rest and recover. Once she’s more aware, you can try some soft foods and lots of liquids. If she’s really struggling, I can set up an IV and get some fluids into her, perk her up a bit.”

“Thank you.” John says, shifting you slightly so Dr. Keller can look at the bite mark on your shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” She asks him, pulling out a disinfectant wipe.

“Sore.” John huffs out a laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.”

Dr. Keller hums as she cleans the wound on your shoulder. “I know I’m not here to give you medical advice, but as your omega’s doctor I feel the need to remind you not to ignore your own symptoms. She needs you right now, more than ever. So don’t try to macho man your way through anything. You need to rest just as much as she does.”

“Yes, doctor.” He grumbles, adjusting your shirt once she’s done.

Dr. Keller gives him a smile. “You did a good job.” She turns to Kyle. “Both of you. Don’t hesitate to call me. It’s what I’m here for.”

A smile tugs at John’s lips as Kyle practically beams from Dr. Keller’s praise. He did do a good job. You’re both still breathing after all.

3 Days Ago

“I cannae take anymore.” Johnny pants, his breaths near wheezes as he rests his hands on his knees. “Ye said you'd go easy on me.”

“I never promised anything, Johnny.” Simon says, standing behind him.

“Hell's bells, L.T.” Johnny groans, dropping to his hands and knees. “Gonna kill me at this rate.”

“Don't be dramatic. C'mon, again.”

“Uh uh.” Johnny says, flopping onto his side on the ground. “Am pure done in! ‘S almost lunch anyway.” He rolls onto his back, looking in the direction of the barracks as he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Think they're havin’ fun?”

Simon looks down at him, looming over him like a shadow. “Probably seems like it right now. Be a different story when it’s done.”

“Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like.” Johnny says, turning his gaze up to Simon's face. He can't see much under the mask, and right now is one of those moments when he wishes he could.

“You really don't. It's messy and gory.” Simon offers him a hand, helping Johnny to his feet. “Gotta be prepared to pick up the pieces afterwards.” Simon turns, heading in the direction of the barracks.

“That why you've never taken an omega?” Johnny asks, following him.

Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at Johnny. Johnny's back straightens at the look in Simon's eyes. No, not Simon. Ghost. He's looking at Ghost again.

“Drop it. Or I'll make you do another lap.” Ghost says, his voice taking on the low rasp he gets when he's shifted into the laser focused headspace of the Lieutenant.

“Yes, sir.” Johnny says, following after Ghost as they head back towards the barracks.

Ghost slips into the showers once they enter, Johnny heading to the corner to peek down the hallway towards their rooms. It's quiet now. It hadn't been when they left earlier. He could hear it as they passed the hall to go out the door, the distant sound of moans and the bedframe knocking against the wall. He had fought the erection threatening to tent his shorts all the way to the field. He knows heats are no light matter, but the mental image he's drawn up of you blissed out, mouth open as you moan, back arching in pleasure has been plaguing him for nearly two weeks. He's desperate, practically chomping at the bit to get a chance to see it himself first hand, to see the real thing putting his mental image to shame.

He makes his way down the hallway, keeping a respectful distance between himself and your room. Kyle looks up from his spot on the bed where he'd been scrolling on his phone.

“How're they doin’?” Johnny asks, wiping the sweat from his face.

“Alright. Sleeping for the moment.” Kyle answers. Johnny can only imagine the torture of having to sit and listen to nonstop fucking for the last three days.

“We're gonna grab lunch soon. Want us tae bring ye somethin’?”

Kyle nods. “Sure. That'd be great.”

“Ye got it.” Johnny nods, passing a glance at your door before looking back to Kyle. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, mate.” Kyle says, watching his fellow beta walk back down the hall.

Johnny glances up from his phone as Simon huffs out what's the tenth sigh in the last three minutes. The alpha is seated at his desk, clicking away at something on his computer and occasionally mashing away at the keyboard rather harshly. Johnny's surprised he hasn't cracked a key yet, or just thrown the whole thing out the window. The beta can see how tightly his alpha is wrung by the tenseness in his shoulders, the hard set of his brow, the set line of his lips, the occasional tick of his jaw.

“What's got ye all riled up?” Johnny finally breaks the silence, setting his phone aside.

“Nothing.” Simon grumbles, ignoring Johnny's gaze.

Johnny’s brow furrows and he pushes himself to stand, moving over to Simon’s side. “Doesnae seem like nothin’ to me.” He puts his hands on Simon’s broad shoulders, squeezing them, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Awful tense, Si.”

“Leave it, Johnny.” Simon grumbles, trying to swat the beta away, but he’s insistent.

“Wouldnae be a little omega getting you so tense, would it?” Johnny teases.

Simon turns to him, his eyes darkening. His jaw clenches, hands closing into fists where they sit on the armrests of his chair. “Don’t push it, Johnny.” His voice has that deep rumble to it, the threat of his alpha coming through.

Johnny stares at him, feeling the danger prickling at the back of his neck, but at the same time, he wants to push that boundary. He wants to see just how far he can push his alpha until he finally gives in.

“I don’t know why ye keep torturing yourself like this, Si. Ye know ye like her. She’d be more’n willing-”

“That’s the problem.” Simon snaps, pushing himself up from his seat, forcing Johnny to take a step back. “She’s not doing this because she wants to. She’s only doing this because she’s been told to do it.”

“She’s an omega. Her whole life was going tae be people tellin’ her what to do and forcin’ her tae do things, even if she didn’t want to. Ye think things would have been different if she’d been put with a different pack?” Johnny doesn’t back down from Simon’s glare, having been on the receiving end of it enough times now he’s almost immune to it. “Things could have been a lot worse for her. She might not have wanted to be here, but she is. Ye can’t change that, Si. No matter how badly you might want to.”

Johnny can tell by the slow fall to Simon’s tense shoulders that he’s struck home. The situation wasn’t ideal, but it’s what they were dealt. You’re here with them, and he’s going to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible.

Simon lets out another sigh, turning away from Johnny to crawl into their makeshift bed. He lays down with a huff, closing his eyes. Johnny smirks, slowly crawling onto the two cots pushed together, laying down right next to Simon. He rests his hand on Simon’s thigh, feeling the powerful muscle flex under his hand. He slowly begins to drag it higher, Simon’s eyes opening again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Simon rasps, but he doesn’t move, even as Johnny reaches the junction of his hip and thigh.

“Yer all worked up, big guy.” Johnny says, leaning his head on his hand, slowly moving his hand over Simon’s very prominent bulge. “Thought I’d help ye.”

“What makes you think I want your help?” Simon says, still laying still.

Johnny lifts his brows, slowly rubbing Simon through his pants. “This looks rather painful, and I seem to be the only option to help, since everyone else is rather occupied-”

Johnny’s words are cut off as he finds himself suddenly on his back, Simon’s hand around his throat. The alpha is leaning over him, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest. “You talk too much, Johnny.” Simon rumbles, leaning close to the beta’s face.

“I’ve been told tha’ before.” Johnny says, leaning up to try and kiss his alpha, but Simon backs away before he can make contact. “By you if I remember correctly.”

Simon’s fingers flex around his throat, a moan spilling from his lips as Simon grinds his hips against Johnny’s. His cock is hard in his pants, has been for a while. He’s not sure if it’s from the lewd thoughts that have been plaguing his mind since you first kissed him, weeks ago, or if it’s just a response to the knowledge that you’re currently fucking their pack alpha like your life depends on it.

Johnny lets out a whimper, bucking up against Simon desperately. Simon tuts at him, pressing against his throat to keep him still on the bed as he sits himself up on top of the beta.

“Naughty little thing.” Simon says, staring down into his blue eyes. “Know you’ve been thinking about sinking your cock into the new little omega for weeks.” Johnny lets out a whine, his cock twitching in his pants. “I don’t think you’ll even make it that long, will you pup?” Simon chuckles. “Gonna cum in your pants as soon as you see her tits, huh?” Simon presses down, putting more pressure against his cock as he rubs it through his pants. “Gonna cum in your pants just thinking about it.”

Johnny holds his breath, trying to focus anywhere except for Simon’s hand. He squeezes his eyes closed as Simon undoes the button on his cargo pants, releasing his throat to tug the fabric down around his knees.

“Bloody hell.” Simon says, wrapping a hand around Johnny’s hard cock. “Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.”

“I thought Kyle’s was the prettiest.” Johnny says, opening his eyes to glance down at his alpha.

“Kyle’s just pretty.” Simon says, slowly stroking Johnny’s cock. “You have the prettiest cock.”

“Christ...” Johnny breathes as Simon continues to jerk his cock, his hips bucking as he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge.

A pathetic whimper leaves Johnny’s lips as Simon pulls his hand away, sitting up on his knees over his beta. He undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor before undoing his pants, pulling them and his briefs down to release his own throbbing cock. Johnny licks his lips as Simon fists his own cock, slowly stroking it.

“Turn around. Let me see that pretty ass.” Simon says.

“Yes, sir.” Johnny smirks, wiggling himself until he’s flat on his stomach, pushing his ass into the air as best he can with his legs trapped between Simon’s.

Simon purrs quietly at Johnny’s response, running his hands over his beta’s pert cheeks. “Prettiest ass too.” He murmurs, gently spreading his cheeks.

“I’m startin’ to think I might be the prettiest.” Johnny says, gasping quietly as a glob of warm spit hits his hole.

“Give me a night with Kyle and I’ll get back to you on that.” Simon says, pressing a finger into Johnny’s ass.

Johnny groans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Fucking Christ.”

“You can take it.” Simon soothes him, reaching down to fish the lube out of the bag he’d tossed it in last night. He squirts some on his finger before pressing further in, spreading Johnny’s ass open. “Good boy.”

Johnny nearly melts into the cot, letting out a pathetic sound as Simon adds a second finger. He’s still sore from the last three days, but his drive to please his alpha pushes away any sensitivity he’s feeling. That, and the lust burning hot in him. Betas don’t have heat cycles, but he might as well be in the middle of one with how horny he’s been these last few days. He knows part of it is Simon being worked up by the knowledge that there’s an omega in heat nearby, and his own body reacting to his alpha. He’s never been around an omega in heat, and he doesn’t think Simon has either.

He’s not sure Simon has ever been with an omega at all before.

More cold lube hits his hole, a second finger pressing in. He gasps at the stretch, squeezing around Simon’s thick fingers. Simon’s other hand trails up his back, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Johnny pushes himself up slightly, tugging the fabric over his head before he relaxes back down against the blankets.

Simon presses a third finger in, working Johnny open with what still won’t be enough, but Johnny won’t complain. He’s taken his alpha before. He’ll do it gladly again.

“Fuck, Johnny.” Simon grunts as Johnny squeezes around his fingers again.

“Cannae help it.” Johnny whines. “Feels too good.”

“Didn’t say you could cum yet.” Simon says, removing his fingers. “Naughty pup.”

Johnny lets out a pathetic sounding whimper, pressing his ass up to try and chase Simon’s fingers. He yelps as Simon’s hand meets his skin, his hips dropping back to the bed at the force of Simon’s spank.

“Stay still.” Simon growls, the cap of the lube popping open again.

Johnny does as he’s told, keeping himself still as Simon prepares himself. He groans as the tip of Simon’s cock presses against his hole, his hands fisting the sheets at the stretch. Simon’s hand rubs his back, trying to get him to relax. Johnny breathes, forcing himself to go lax, letting Simon slip in further.

“Good boy.” Simon groans, bracing himself on the bed as he presses further and further into Johnny’s tight hole. “That’s my good boy. You can take it.”

“Fuck!” Johnny groans, practically preening from the praise.

“That’s it.” Simon groans, pressing in until his hips are flush with Johnny’s ass. “Bloody fucking hell.”

Johnny’s mind goes blank as he’s filled, all thoughts leaving at the feeling of his alpha inside of him. He’s panting already, stretched open around his alpha’s cock. Simon begins to move, rocking his hips slowly, drawing his cock out before pushing it back in. Johnny whines, pushing back against Simon, needing more.

“Please...” Johnny begs. “Please alpha!”

“Fuck.” Simon grunts, bracing himself further before snapping his hips against Johnny. “Like that? That what you want, pup?”

Johnny almost yelps at the sensation, hands fisting the blankets as his body rocks forward on the cot. “Fuck, yes!”

Simon sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against Johnny’s ass. Pleasure numbs Johnny’s mind as the sensation of Simon inside of him. His cock is trapped between his body and the cot, dragging against the blankets with every thrust. He’s going to cum soon, he knows that. He won’t be able to hold it, not with how sensitive he already is.

“Gonna cum, can’t hold it!” He whines, pushing back against Simon’s thrusts for more friction. “Fuck, alpha!”

Johnny cums quickly with a groan, the blankets getting damp under him as he shakes in his release. Simon doesn’t stop, undeterred by Johnny’s clenching around him in his orgasm. He’s going to ring a few more out of Johnny before he’s done.

They’re both in for a long night.

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #x reader #captain price x reader #John price x reader #gaz x reader #Kyle gaz Garrick x reader #soap x reader #John soap mactavish x reader #Simon Riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley x reader #a/b/o #alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics #Omegaverse

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eleganzadellarosa · 30 days

Text

Can’t Do It Like Me

pairing: jealous ex!choi san x fem!reader

genre: Smut (you already know)

warnings: MDNI (rough sex, jealous sex, cheating (don’t condone it but it fits the plot), choking, manhandling, slight spit play, oral (m and f receiving), mirror sex, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), squirting, daddy kink, degradation, honestly some toxic shit happens)

word count: 4.1K+

A/N: As soon as I think of it, I come straight to Tumblr. Also San if you see this, I’m sorry 😔 Anyways, enjoy and thanks for reading :)

Every year like clockwork you had to be reminded of a past relationship that could’ve been something special. The notification popping up on your phone “Remember this day?” Yes. You did remember and you wish you could forget but you also couldn’t find the strength to delete the pictures.

Choi San. The man you described as “husband material” at some point in time, only to recall the many moments of toxicity that lead to the breakup. From the distrust to watching your location like a movie, he was possessive and sometimes even that was an understatement. He made sure everyone knew you were his and almost got into a few fights over it.

Eventually, you opened your eyes to how you always excused his behavior and finally put your foot down. You deserved a healthy relationship with a person who strives for the same thing. You were glad San wasn’t in your life anymore, he made it too stressful.

But at the same time, you missed him. Sometimes at night when your hands were between your legs, you'd think about him. You loved your current boyfriend, he was just what you were looking for. But with the recent growing distance in your relationship, maybe all good things in your life were destined to come to an end. He was always away for work, only coming home to see you maybe once every two months or so. A year into the relationship is when things started to change and now that it’s going on two years, you constantly felt alone and your vibrator wasn’t strong enough to keep you sane.

Your phone was ringing; a facetime call.

“Omg hey babe, to what do I owe this spontaneous phone call?”

He chuckled before answering, “Hey baby, I’m just calling to ask you a quick question.” He proceeded when you nodded your head. “Are you busy this weekend? The company’s having a joint event with another company and I may need a plus one.” The tone of his voice inflected upwards as he neared the end of his sentence.

Your heart jumped with excitement. Of course it wasn't a logical comparison to how much he loved you, but you felt the need to be paraded around; labeled as "his girlfriend". You haven't been feeling special recently, so a public event would hopefully be the perfect remedy.

“Oh my gosh babe of course I'm not busy! I’ll go choose my outfit right now!” He let out a hearty laugh on the other end when you squealed, jumping off the bed, leaving him to listen to you rustle around in your closet.

You quickly retrieve your phone when you remember and say your “I love yous” and goodbyes before hanging up. Saturday was only two days away so you’d need to put together the perfect outfit within that time frame. Luckily for you, you owned the perfect dress in his favorite color and your only goal was to make him want to completely ruin you wherever he pleases.

It was disappointing to say the least. Everything about this ride felt expensive. The limo itself, the sparking Swarovski detailing on the interior, the bottles of champagne. You felt wined and dined, but the thing you craved the most was missing. He seemed distant in a way. Maybe it was his body language; sitting with his legs turned away from you, dazing into the space behind you as you spoke. Or perhaps, it was the way his hand gripped his phone and peeked at it every time it'd buzz with a notification.

"Maybe he's always been like this" you tell yourself, blaming it on having not been around each other in a while. The thought of the both of you drifting away, tearing at the seams, was saddening. But you definitely weren't the one to blame and neither was he; maybe his determination and drive. As much as you wanted to be here with him right now, your mind kept drifting to San. He would be giving you his undivided attention. A hand or your knee, or knowing San, a seat in his lap. But enough about him, he was too toxic of a person for you to only recall his good traits.

buzz buzz

You looked at your boyfriend from a peripheral view, a bright smile across his face. It made your stomach churn, it just didn't sit right with you.

"Oh who's that?" you ask, leaning over toward him slightly.

He quickly shut it off and put it in his pocket. "Sorry babe, I was just answering a few texts from the guys. We have this group chat with all of us just so we can talk shit about my boss."

"Oh is he an asshole or something?"

"Yes but enough about my job baby, I wanna hear more about you. I missed you so much." He cupped your chin in his hand and planted a kiss on your lips.

You felt bad for thinking so ill of him when nothing was going on. Maybe that was something you never let go of with your relationship with San. He taught you what real anxiety was and you could never forgive him for that. The limo came to a stop and you peeked out the window to your right to see the destination. You felt like a movie star as you gazed at the long staircase in front of the building. You imagined each side lined with paparazzi, ready to take pictures of the beautiful couple exiting their limo.

Your door opened before you realized you had been daydreaming. Your boyfriend extended his hand for you to grab hold and finally walk up into the venue for the night. The inside was just as gorgeous as the outside. Chandeliers, marble flooring, expensive art lining the walls; the whole nine yards. When everyone comes into view, his arm is immediately around your waist. He introduced you to his colleagues and even to his boss which made you chuckle thinking back on the secret he told you about earlier. Everything was going well for you, yet for someone else, things were moving in a terrible direction.

San spotted you from across the large space, the conversation he was having fading completely the more he watched you. His jaw shifted and clenched seeing your boyfriend with his arm around your waist and hand on your ass. He didn’t deserve you. Sure San knew he wasn’t always the best boyfriend to you, but he could do so much better than whatever your boyfriend was attempting. Based on how giddy you looked, you probably haven’t seen him or spent much time with him lately, or so San thinks.

He remembers like yesterday hearing you tell him that you couldn’t be with him if he didn’t change, and at the time he couldn’t understand what that meant. He thinks he’s matured since then, at least in the way you wanted him to but seeing another man touch you made him realize maybe he has a lot more growing to do if he wanted to stay true to his claims.

He excused himself and made his way over to you. There was nothing wrong with going to talk to his absolutely beautiful ex girlfriend right? Your eyes widened seeing the broad shoulders clad in white approaching you. Your stomach twisted in knots, from both anxiety and flashbacks of your last encounter with him.

“Fancy seeing you here gorgeous.” San reached his point of interest, staring down the man at your side.

“San…how wonderful it is to see you.” You spoke with a forced smiled, trying your best to slow your heart rate. “How’s life treating you?”

It really was quite the surprise seeing him here, as this was the last place you thought to be bumping into him. It got you thinking what this event was for and how the hell he was even invited. Maybe, as you were, he was just someone's plus one. Although, that didn’t take away from the fact that you didn’t want to see him right now, especially knowing how weak you were for him still.

“Hmm it could be better if a certain someone was still in it.”

At that, your boyfriend turned to San, lip turned up in annoyance, “Do you know this guy babe?”

He and San exchanged fighting glances and you stepped in before things could get heated. “Yeah he's…an old friend. This is San.” You weren't sure why you lied, but it felt better to not reveal too much.

Your boyfriend extends his hand out to San reluctantly and San rolls his eyes before finishing the handshake. Things went well for the most part, although you would catch San staring at you, even throwing in a wink one of the times. Luckily your boyfriend caught none of it, knowing it definitely would have engaged his fight or flight response.

After a while, your boyfriend received a call on his phone and he excused himself saying it was important. You dismissed it and he gave you a kiss on the cheek before he walked away. San caught glimpse of the interaction and sneakily followed behind him through the heavy back doors. You stood by yourself at the table, taking small sips of your champagne. A hand slides across the small of your back and rests on your left hip. You turned expecting your boyfriend, only to see San with an unreadable expression. You tried to sidestep out of his hold but he tightened his grip on you.

“Hey don’t leave yet, we haven’t even gotten the chance to really talk beautiful.”

“Yeeeah…San we can’t be doing this right now.” You put a hand up to his chest and he backs away slightly.

“Doing what? Talking? He won’t let you talk to your friends?”

You scoffed, “No, he’s not controlling. And we’re not friends. It’s just I don’t know how comfortable I am talking to my ex who just put his arm around me.”

He rolled his eyes again, shifting his stance to prop a hand on the table, leaning against it to look at you. “Hmm well part of me thinks he doesn’t care.”

If only he wasn't starting to piss you off, you could finish admiring how good he looked. Wider shoulders, more defined arms and even his pecs were bigger. But you knew San and how he was when it came to you. He was possessive, sometimes it was for your own good but most times it just felt like he needed control over you in every way or he wouldn’t survive.

But you had to admit, that was his only flaw. Everything else about him was absolutely mind blowing, especially when it came to satisfying your needs. Your mind ran wild with thoughts. Thoughts of things you shouldn’t be thinking of as a taken woman. Yet, San making eye contact and the firmness of his chest under your hand earlier flooded you with memories of every time he’s fucked you into the mattress.

This was starting to get a bit out of hand and you weren't sure what else San had up his sleeve.

"You look good in your dress." He said looking you up and down, practically eating you with his eyes.

Come to think of it, he was the first to comment on your dress, your boyfriend hadn't mentioned it at all tonight. "Thank you, you also look very nice." You averted your eyes as you took another sip from the glass.

He stood up straight and stood a bit closer to you and rubbed a hand down your back as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, catching you off guard. It made it ten times worse with your dress being backless and the fabric dipping dangerously close to the waistband of your lace panties.

"If I were him, I'd take you somewhere to fuck you in it. Makes me wonder who he could be on the phone with right now. Think about it, if it were me, I would have my hands all over you.”

He was right. It was a fear that seeped into your subconscious every time he would miss one of your calls and blame it on work and how he acted in the limo earlier. He was starting to feel more than an arm's reach but you knew his job was demanding. So when he asked you to come out with him tonight, you decided to forget it all and allow yourself to have a great time and hope you would end your night moaning his name.

You hated San for bringing the thought back to you and you hated that his possessive personality was also a turn on at times but you knew better than to let yourself fall in his traps. A blush grew on your cheeks feeling the warmth of his breath tickle your ear. This was bad, you needed to stop him in his tracks before your boyfriend came back and questioned you. This had to end right here right now.

You pushed him into the nearest room, one you didn’t expect to be a bathroom, but anywhere was fine as long as no one saw where you went and with who. You carefully locked the door and turned to face him; he already had that arrogant smirk on his face.

“San what the hell?!” You shoved him on the chest. “I was hoping you weren’t going to cause any trouble, but I guess I was wrong. Why do you want to fuck up everything for me?”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Are you even happy? You melted right into my touch earlier.” He walked closer to you, pinning you between him and the sink. “I didn’t say anything wrong either, he's a joke of a boyfriend whether you want to admit it or not.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, "Oh what? you think you can do better?"

He stared down at you, face contort in a stern expression. “I know I messed things up for us, but I think we can both agree that he doesn’t deserve you.” He grabs your hand and slides it down his chest, all the way down to his crotch.

“Feel that? You miss it don’t you? He must not fuck you good enough. He must not fuck you how I used to.”

“San…” he put a finger to your lips.

“Oh baby…I can see it written all over your face. Just ask me and I’ll give you what you want.” He steps even closer to you and tilts your chin up with his finger. “Say you’re my slut and I’ll fuck you better than he ever could.” He lifted you and sat you on the edge of the sink.

So much for not falling into his traps. You looked up at him with doe eyes and he looked down waiting for your answer. “I’m your slut…San please…” you were damn near out of breath and your head was spinning with how badly you wanted it; wanted him.

A pleased smile spread on his face. “My good girl, I knew you could do it.” His fingers tapped onto your lips and you happily sucked on two while he kept eye contact. He took them from your mouth and used them to rub slow circles on your clit. “Good girls kiss daddy.”

He lowered his lips onto yours, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues danced together as he slipped his fingers into you. He wasted no time pumping them quickly against your sensitive spot, earning whines and whimpers.

“You need to forget him for a while and let me make up for all the shit he can’t do.” He spread your thighs and kneeled down between them. “I want you to remember this next time he even thinks he can do better than me.”

He kept eye contact while he licked along the slit of your still clothed pussy, stopping to suck harshly on the clit. You were holding your breath, your last resort for trying to keep in your moans. He hasn’t done much and your toes were already curling. He finally pushed your panties to the side and circled his tongue over your bundle of nerves.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him closer to you, bucking your hips slightly against his face. He grabbed your legs and made them rest against his broad shoulders, your heels digging into his back. He added a finger into the mix, breaching your walls in an attempt to get you louder. Surely it was working more than you'd have liked.

Your head leaned back almost hitting the mirror as your chest heaved. Your toes curled and you pulled harshly at his dark locks making him groan against your skin. He sat up and roughly rid you of your panties before shoving them in his pocket.

“You don’t need these anymore. On your knees.” The way he said it gave you no room to disobey, so you shakily hopped off the sink and he pushed you down onto your knees. He unzipped his pants, letting his dick pop free. Thick and heavy looking as always and now you wanted nothing more than to wrap your lips around it. He grabbed your chin in his hand, “Open.”

You opened your mouth to let him spit in it, he loved messy head and he knew you did it best. He wasted no time in shoving his dick into your mouth and almost down your throat. He gathered your hair in his fist and bobbed your head at a quick pace.

“Go ahead, touch that pussy while I fuck your throat. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

He knew how much you loved to be dominated, it was easy for him. The look of you on your knees gagging on his dick only made him harder and want to fuck your throat faster, but he wouldn’t be satisfied if you left this bathroom before he got to bend you over.

He pulled you off of him admiring the tears brimming your eyes and the puffiness of your lips. It was crazy to think that your boyfriend was the one sleeping next to you every night and San’s bed was empty. He deserved you more than some man who he found saying “I love you” on the phone with another woman. He deserved to fuck all your worries away. If you gave him a second chance, he would do better. Better than anyone else ever could. You were his forever and you seemed to have forgotten that, but he didn’t mind reminding you.

“Bend over the sink.” He kissed along your spine when you did, your eyes closing in ecstasy. “You ready for this dick?” He was so close, lips ghosting over your ear sending shudders down your back.

As soon as the word “yes” left your mouth, you felt the head of his dick rub harshly between your folds. Your chest felt tight, your heart was beating fast and you could barely keep your eyes open. He kissed in the crook of your neck making you look at him through the mirror as he slid in until he bottomed out. You could cum just from that small movement alone but you’d much rather wait until he fucks you right.

“You missed this didn’t you?” He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in causing you to yelp from the sudden action. “I missed this pussy…I missed you.” His thrusts sped up to a demonic pace, the wet noises from the constant slapping of skin filled the bathroom effortlessly.

“S-san it feels so good~” you said through moans.

“I know baby, but I’m sad because you’re not using my name.” He used his other hand to wrap around your neck. He squeezed and made you even more lightheaded; It was perfect. “You didn’t forget it did you?”

“N-no Daddy n-never.” It was true and it was why you were never able to use it for your boyfriend. As much as you tried to forget San and how much he consumed your life, it was hard.

He tightened his grip on your hips and rolled his into yours. Of course it was wrong, but this is the most pleasure you’ve felt in a long time; admittedly since the last time you were with San. He had a way of handling you that set your senses on fire. He was exactly what you wanted and with the expectation of getting fucked tonight, you didn’t want to foil your own plans.

“Look how I fit right in. This pussy is mine forever."

He raised one of your legs onto the sink and grabbed a fistful of your hair, continuously plunging into you. Your eyes were rolling back and he patted your cheek, bringing your attention back to him.

“Mm mm, look at you. Look how pretty you look fucked out on my dick. Watch me fuck you just how you like.”

You didn’t want to see yourself in this state, it only made it feel more real. Your tongue lolled out slightly, one strap of your dress draped low on your shoulder and he held one of your breasts roughly. It was a lewd sight to say the least and the sounds that were coming from the speed San was fucking you made it no better.

There was a knock on the door and your head tried to whip in that direction but San tugged harder on your hair. He quickly told the person on the other side of the door that it was occupied, not expecting for them to say anything back.

“Y/N are you in there?” The voice of your boyfriend grated against your ears like nails on a chalkboard. You were guilty and moaning like you were unable to produce any other sound.

San’s eyes darkened and he smiled wickedly. “Oh yes she is and she’s busy.” He leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “Let’s put on a show for him, let him know who owns this pussy.”

He sped up his thrusts and quickly rubbed on your clit. You squirmed in his hold, trying to do everything you could to not scream from the pleasure. Nothing worked and now your boyfriend and maybe several other people could hear what you and San were doing.

“This pussy all for me?” He was an expert with how he rolled his hips into you; he was so deep and repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

“Fuck Daddy, yes! It feels so good!” Your legs were like jelly and your orgasm was a few more thrusts away.

“You’ll never find someone who can fuck you like this? Who can make you beg for it?”

You whimpered loudly in response. You thought it wasn’t possible but he fucked you harder, fucked you faster and with the abuse on your clit there was no more delaying your bliss. You came hard, squirting onto the floor and partially on the man behind you. Your walls were squeezing him so tightly and he loved every single second.

"You gonna let me cum inside so you can take me home with you, hmm?" His thrusts were getting sloppier but he never slowed down and never stopped rubbing your clit.

The overstimulation and the way he spoke to you was driving you mad, you didn't think about anything else in this moment besides making this a night to remember.

"Yes Daddy fill me up, please please please!" You knew he loved it when you begged, especially for him to empty all his cum in you. Tonight was no different and he came in a few more thrusts.

"You did so well baby, took it so well." He gave you more kisses to your shoulder as he gently pulled out and let go of your leg.

By this time your boyfriend was already banging on the door, demanding that you let him in. San made sure to clean the both of you up before he let you out of his sight. You walked to the door, taking a deep breath as you unlocked it; San close behind. Your boyfriend looked like he could pop at any second with how red his face was.

"Are you fucking kidding me?! You see one old friend and you let him fuck you in the bathroom? IN PUBLIC?!"

He almost shoved at your arm, but San does it to him first. "I don't suggest you follow through with that. And maybe next time you should make sure your girlfriend is happy before you start running your mouth."

"That IS my girlfriend, back the fuck off!"

"Oh her?" San points and quickly glances in your direction. "No, she's mine, I was referring to the one you were on the phone with, but maybe you're already forgetting about her too."

And with that, your now ex-boyfriend had nothing left to say but apologize to you as you walked away with San. Maybe all things did come to an end, but perhaps for good reason.

#san smut #choi san smut #choi san #ateez #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez san

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prettyfastcars · 5 months

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As sweet as blood-red jam | Mob!Lando

Summary: Lando could be many things given the nature of his job. Mean, commandeering, a control freak. But when he came home to you and the kids, he was the sweetest man you’d ever met. Your marriage to him was arranged of course, because that’s how things worked in the world you were both from. But love eventually grew between the two of you, and it did not stop growing.

Themes: dad!Lando, fluff, smut, arranged marriage, domestic!mob!Lando, mild mommy/daddy kink (nicknames only), praise kink, housewife!reader, breeding kink

“They’re sleeping.”

He announced cheerfully, shutting the door behind him as he walked into your library where you had been reading in silence for the past half an hour.

You were a stay-at-home mom so the twins, your son and daughter, were under your care all day. And so Lando insisted that you get the evening off the moment he got home. He read to them and tucked them in for the night each night. It was part of his routine and he loved it.

You placed your wine glass down and picked up the drink you made for him, handing it to him as he came over to sit down next to you on the large sofa.

His eyes lit up at the sight of the well-deserved drink. “Oh you’re perfect, baby.” He kissed your forehead before getting comfortable next to you, sighing as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

“They’ve been running around all day, they went to see the horses,” You said, thinking about how energetic your kids had been during the day, “I thought they would pass out after dinner but they wanted to wait for daddy.”

Your husband smiled, looking a little tired as he took a sip of his drink. You caressed his cheek with a gentle hand as he turned to give you a soft look with those gorgeous eyes of his.

He looked more relaxed and comfortable like this, wearing nothing but dark sweatpants. As opposed to the authoritative figure he is during the day in his expensive, dark suits. Him in casual clothing like this made you realise that he was in fact just a young man, barely 25, who shouldered a lot of weight alone.

Responsibilities, expectations, risks, reputation, legacy, and now his own family. You’d come a long way, the two of you. Only a couple years ago you were just strangers being introduced at a gala. And now you were young parents.

You still remember the night you met him for the first time. How gently he held your hand and danced with you. How your engagement was announced only a few months after and the wedding happened quicker than you thought.

You always thought that you would forever be strangers living under the same roof. Especially given his reputation of being a workaholic which made him such an influential figure in his line of work.

But Lando proved you wrong. He actually took the time to get to know you early on in your marriage, he cared, he listened. He was good to you. Then a year later, you had the twins and Lando had been perfect. Perfect partner, perfect dad.

“What are you thinking about, mama?” He asked softly, his hand leisurely caressing your exposed thigh. That golden chain on his neck shining in the dimmed lights of the library. No shirt so you shamelessly ogled his defined abs and muscles. He let you, with a smirk on his handsome face.

You put the book aside and leaned a little closer to him, cupping his rough chin in your hand. He’d been growing facial hair lately and you liked it. “You work too hard,” You said softly.

He smiled, leaning into the warmth of your hand as he said, “Just wanna give you and the kids everything you want and need. You deserve it.”

He had given you everything. Houses, cars, chauffeurs, chefs, private planes, private trainers, cards with no spending limits, vacations. You and the kids were well taken care of.

You sighed, sliding over and ending up perfectly on his lap. Lando finished his drink, placed the glass aside and grabbed you by the waist to pull you closer. “But we have everything we could ever want or need.” You suggested, “Take a day off. Or two. I’m taking the kids shopping tomorrow, come spend the day with us.”

Lando gave you a faint smile, “Can’t right now, baby. Some important shipments are about to come in. I can’t afford a day off until it gets here.”

You rolled your eyes, making him chuckle and pull you closer. “But I barely see you.” You murmured. “The last time we had a date night was like, weeks ago.”

Your face got really hot just thinking about it. Not just the date, but what happened after in the car on the way home…

Lando smirked, surely also thinking about the same thing, grabbing you by the hips and gently moving you on his lap, rubbing you against his growing erection. You hissed in pleasure as he did. The soft, silky night dress you were wearing bunched up around your upper thighs, allowing you to feel everything. The shape of him, the warmth.

“If you wanted a lovesick romeo who writes you love notes every morning then you shouldn’t have agreed to marry a man like me.” He taunted, teasing you and pinching your thigh.

You reached out and grabbed his gold chain, tugging on it playfully, knowing how much he liked it when you did. “Unfortunately I like my men a little more corrupted,” You whispered, “Bonus points if they work all the time and don’t have time for me.” You sassed.

Lando chuckled, leaning in to kiss along your jaw. “Aww, what is it?” He cooed, “You miss daddy? Hmm? Does mommy need some extra love from daddy tonight?”

You nodded.

“Come here, baby,” He pressed his mouth to yours as his hands caressed your inner thighs. He kissed you like he was starving, while your hands reached down in between your bodies and eagerly lowered his sweatpants to free his cock.

You whimpered into the kiss, against his lips as you wrapped your hand around him, stroking his hard cock, making him groan into the kiss before he pulled away and said, “Daddy missed you too.” He murmured, looking down to watch how your hand touched him just how he liked it. “Fuck,” He sighed, “That feels good, baby…”

His praise gave you enough confidence to stroke him harder, making him groan and moan. You loved the sounds he made. And you wanted to keep hearing those moans so you carefully lifted your lower body off his, pulled your underwear to the side and slowly lowered yourself down on his cock, earning louder moans out of his sinful mouth as you sank down on him.

You were wet enough for his cock to slide in, but your body still resisted just a little bit, enough for him to have to thrust up the tiniest bit to fully fill you up. You cried out as he did.

His soft lips parted just a little, and you couldn’t resist leaning in and sliding your tongue into his mouth. You whimpered against his lips, stroking the top of his mouth as you lifted up and sank back down on his cock, making him growl into the messy kiss.

“That’s it, baby… fuck yourself on daddy’s cock…” Lando’s hands rubbed up and down your thighs again as he gently thrust his hips up each time, setting a pace that had you both moaning and wanting more of each other.

Your fingers slid into his hair, scratching his scalp and down his neck as the tip of his cock reached sensitive places inside you.

Lando chuckled when he felt you clench around him. “We’re not using protection again, mama…” He spoke against your open mouth, breathless as you were, “You’re gonna give me another kid, huh?” He sounded cocky as he said it, like it filled him with pride. “Gonna let me fill you up again till you walk around all nice and swollen with my baby in you, hmm?”

You whined, feeling him stretch you out each time you moved up and down his cock. “Lando… please,” You gasped as his hand slipped between the two of you and found your clit, he rubbed it lazily.

“Answer me,” He demanded, “You’re gonna carry another one for me?” His voice sent chills down your back.

“Yes,” You whimpered, moving faster, impaling yourself down on his cock and whimpering shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust. Your lips brushed against his each time you moved up and down his cock, feeling him stretch you out as you stared into his ridiculously pretty eyes. You couldn’t help but speak the thoughts of your lust-drunk mind, “I want you to fill me up again,” You mumbled, feeling yourself getting high up there gradually.

Lando laughed, also lust-drunk, “I can’t wait…” He said, “Can’t wait to come home and find you dripping wet for me.” His voice gave away that he was thinking back to how needy you were for him all throughout your previous pregnancy.

You whimpered, thinking about it as well. Some evenings he’d come home and you dragged him to the bedroom immediately. Some days you even called him and asked him if he could come home for an hour or two. Lando happily agreed each time of course.

“Remember how sensitive you’d get? How needy?” He teased, holding you close. “How you almost cried each time I made you come?” He smirked, male pride all over his face. “Some of the best months of my life those were.”

You whined, “Please…” You stared into his pretty eyes.

“Come for me.” He growled in that cold, menacing, erotic voice. “Come for daddy…”

And you did. Whimpering, squirming and whining. You didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and Lando kept thrusting his hips up into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came hard, feeling your walls squeezing and clenching around him.

Lando came right after you, moaning and spilling inside of you, filling you up as you trembled and squirmed on his lap. You leaned forward, pushing your face into his neck to catch your breath while he held you against him, kissing the side of your face softly.

“You okay, baby?” He asked after a few minutes of you two just cuddling there on the sofa.

You nodded, “Mhmm, don’t wanna get up.” You murmured, sighing in bliss as you snuggled into his warm chest.

He chuckled, “Okay.” He kissed the stop of your head. “I love you,” He whispered.

#lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #mob!lando #f1

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catboyieejeno · 4 months

Text

gameboy :: p.js — one

genre: gamer! jisung x gamer! reader, college au cw: female reader, fwb to lovers, explicit smut, pervy jisung, male masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, inexperienced jisung, cum play/breeding kink, pet names, slight humiliation kink, size kink, creampie, probably more wc: 18.257k

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The red letters that flash across your screen read ‘Defeat’, illuminating your dimly lit room with a shy, red hue. The instant the word appears on your monitor, a voice blasts through your headset, erupting in emphatic complaints and protests. You can hear the clatter of a keyboard and mouse being shoved around on the other end of the receiver, and it takes everything in you to stifle your laugh.

“We definitely could’ve won that!” the boy scoffs, “I swear, sometimes it feels like you and I are the only people with any fucking game sense.”

“Wow, thanks for the validation,” you joke, instinctively queuing up for another match. Your eyes trail up to the little icon in the corner of the screen that glows green every time he speaks.

“You know what I mean,” he grumbles, and you imagine he must not look all that different from the little crying cat picture he set as his discord icon. The thought makes you snort, but he ignores you, stating, “I think this is my last game,”

You nod even though you know he can’t see you, “same, I have class tomorrow,”

“First day of the semester for you, too?”

You nod again. “Unfortunately. My days of gaming until four and sleeping until noon have come to an end.”

He laughs, leaning forward in his chair as he realizes something, “You know, I never asked what you’re studying,”

“Oh,” you blink, “Well, the first class I have tomorrow is just a random credit I needed, but I’m actually majoring in-”

It takes less than a few seconds for your words to drown out into a muffled buzz, and the only thing Jisung can focus on now is the silky, smooth sound of your voice.

He would never admit it, at least not out loud, but your voice makes his heart beat just a little faster. The way each and every word rolls off your tongue makes his breath hitch, imagination running wild at the thought of what your lips look like when they mold to form each syllable and sound.

Every night like clockwork, Jisung finds himself rocking side to side in his desk chair, eyes hanging low and round lips curved up into a smile as he listens to you speak.

It’s so easy to talk to him, too. By now, you’ve lost count of how many nights the two of you rambled off in voice chats, watching shows or playing video games or simply oversharing the details of your lives. It’s only been a few months since you met in a game chat, on that night where he practically harassed you for your discord after you carried him up a rank in-game. You’re secretly grateful he did, though you wouldn’t let him know that; the two of you effortlessly became part of each other’s daily routine, and now, calls with you are his favorite way to end the night. Tonight is no exception.

Jisung begins to mindlessly swing in his chair as usual. He’s humming passively between your small pauses to encourage you to keep going as his hands automatically start caressing his torso. It’s a somewhat innocent gesture, or at least it starts out that way: his palms sliding across the ridges of his abdomen as he listens to your voice. It’s better than music to his ears, and it urges his long fingers to dance closer and closer to his waistband.

“–and I thought about changing it, but I think with an degree in Lit, I could probably get a career in–”

Lost in your voice, Jisung slips his hands into his shorts, holding his balls as he fully zones out of the conversation. He knows you’re saying words and forming actual sentences, but his social awareness has dwindled completely and he absolutely can’t seem to get past how sweet you sound, and how much sweeter you would sound under… different circumstances. He moves up to hold his dick gently and furrows his brows. Almost accidentally, his thumb brushes along the underside of his tip, teeth clamping the inside of his cheek and gnawing on it to ground himself. Just as eager as its owner, Jisung’s dick jolts in his palm, progressively swelling up until it’s flushing bright pink.

“You’re into English?” He manages to stop daydreaming and hone into the conversation for a fleeting moment, just long enough to ask you that simple question and keep your attention off of his rapidly shifting breath.

He’s blatantly playing with himself now, ever so distractedly. It’s an autonomous act: the way the pad of his middle finger trails over his slit to collect a bit of the pre-cum that has begun to dribble out in pearly beads. He hisses, then quickly snaps his mouth shut in hopes that you hadn’t heard him.

“Yeah,” he can hear your smile in your words, “I think I always have been. I used to read all the time and—I swear, if you say I’m boring, I’ll personally come over and choke you–”

As he acknowledges reality for a quick moment, his pace falters. His brows pinch, and he feels confused as he realizes he can’t stop or even moderate his actions, despite the shame slowly beginning to wash over him. The more you talk, the harder he grows. His grip is getting tighter, his strokes needier… he must be losing his mind. With a gulp, he thinks to himself, what would you do if you could see him touching himself like this to you? Would you think it’s sick and twisted or would you offer to help him out? His head begins to throb as the room spins around him, but he really can’t seem to slow his motions. By now, he’s bucking his hips up and into his hand while the other covers his mouth, silencing the whines that threaten to leave his throat. He’s breathing heavily, praying to god you don’t somehow notice his perverted actions. Despite knowing that he isn’t thinking straight, Jisung can’t help the thoughts that continue to fog his mind, rampant and obscene.

Could you hear the squelching of his hand pumping his cock, covered in his pre-release? Or the way he’s practically panting, reduced to nothing at the mere sound of your voice? He’s not sure whether or not his mic would even pick that up, but even so, the corner of his lips curl into a lazy smile as his mind continues down his twisted rabbit hole.

In spite of not knowing what you look like, there’s no denying that he wants to give you all of him. He wants to feel himself buried deep inside your throat, your pretty voice vibrating around him as you choke on his length. He feels himself twitch in his palm and he subconsciously nods, picturing it's your walls around him instead of his own inadequate hand. Jisung huffs out once, fucking his fist wildly, picturing how much he’d like to feel himself bust inside of your warm, tight pus-

“Sung? Sung!”

“Huh? W-what?” As he yanks his hand from his shorts, the waistband snaps against his skin and he yelps out at the impact, “Sorry! I promise I was listening, it-its just, I got a little caught up with–” words are tumbling out of his mouth, before he can catch up to them.

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Hurry, just pick your agent before the match gets–” but the timer runs out, and the lobby screen appears once more as you sigh, “–canceled...”

Jisung glances down at his hand, separating his fingers and watching how the sticky pre-cum leaves webbed strings between each of his parted digits. His stomach is also wet, and the tent in his pants is growing increasingly painful with each passing second.

“What were you fantasizing about, huh?” Oh, fuck. The teasing edge in your words makes his nerves tingle, and he throws his head back as you hum into your mic, “Hmm. Well, I guess it was more interesting than what I was saying. Can’t blame you though, the topic of school is boring me too, and the semester hasn’t even started yet. Also, that can’t count as your last game. I literally won’t allow it.”

You queue up for another game and Jisung sighs, watching the timer on the screen tick away. The picture changes, and the two of you are prompted to start a game. A few kleenex wipes collect the mess on his hand and torso, and he settles back in his chair after tossing them, deciding his neediness will have to wait for now.

Bidding you good night is harder than usual tonight, but he knows you need to get to sleep—you mentioned you had an early class and he had his own, so his selfish urge to keep you talking until he came in his hand would, unfortunately, need to take a raincheck.

After logging off of his computer, Jisung drops his head into his hands with a sigh.

What the fuck even was that?

A mix of shame and arousal take over him as his cheeks begin glowing a deep shade of red. He lets out a small scoff, shaking his head to himself as he gets up from his chair. His dick is still as hard as a rock, and he can’t help but feel flustered at the fact that he has, quite literally, blue-balled himself.

With a towel swung over his shoulder and a clean pair of sleeping shorts clutched in his fist, Jisung walks up to the dorm’s nearest communal bathroom. He turns on the faucet, freeing himself of his clothes. The moment his boxers come down past his thighs, his length slaps against the skin below his navel, making him hiss out as he steps into the shower. The cold water, running down against his heated body, seems to be doing the trick of clearing his mind, that is, until his hands find their way to his stomach, rubbing the soap over it.

It’s so hard to expel the thoughts of you when they’re so intrusive and tempting, and Jisung lets his mind drift off once more, imagining how it would feel to be touched by you, sucked by you. All the soft noises you would make are weirdly familiar; he can practically hear them. His head falls back, lips caught between his teeth as he twitches and gives himself an experimental stroke, shuddering as his thumb glides across the slit of his sensitive tip. He clenches his eyes shut tighter, letting out a shaky sigh and letting the water continue to trickle down his body. He doesn’t know what you look like, other than your hair color which you mentioned the other day. Despite that, he still tries desperately to piece an image of you together behind his eyelids, picturing what your lips are like. And just like that, thoughts of you flood him, and he shudders at the vision of you on your knees, looking up at him with big, innocent eyes, begging to taste him and take all of him. He longs to feel you swallow around him—to grab either side of your face and thrust into your needy mouth until the tears slip from your eyes and your pussy is dripping from the need to be fucked.

Getting lost in the moment, he doesn’t even realize how loud he’s becoming and how fast his fist is working his dick. Jisung's highly anticipated release is only seconds away when a loud knock startles him, lunging him right back into his body.

“Yo, man! How long are you gonna take in there?” His friend and next door neighbor, Mark, shouts from the other side of the door, knocking again and ruining Jisung’s fantasy once and for all.

The boy takes a moment to clear his throat and swallow, not trusting his voice to not crack otherwise, “Uh.. Sorry. I’ll just be a minute.”

It takes everything in him to slow his hand to a stop and pry it off of his shaft, deciding that perhaps, he shouldn’t entertain his filthy thoughts any longer. He quickly finishes showering with another unnecessary interruption from Mark, then drags himself back to his room and gets into his bed, forcing his eyes shut in an attempt to sleep. The longer he lies there, however, the more restless he grows.

His dick feels sore to the touch and it’s driving him absolutely crazy. Every time he adjusts his shorts or moves his legs, his balls throb from how full they are. Knowing he has class to get to the following day, he tries to convince himself that maybe he needs a release to get to sleep. It’ll tire him out, and then finally, he’ll be able to get some rest…There’s at least a bit of logic to that theory, or that’s what he tells himself, anyway.

Against his better judgment that pleads with him to just shut his eyes and count sheep, Jisung huffs out and slips his hands into his shorts to begin touching himself for the nth time tonight. This whole time, he had been unknowingly edging himself and now he’s so, so undeniably and incredibly desperate to cum that it literally hurts.

His free hand brings his phone up and unlocks it, thumb swiping quickly in search of the discord app where your contact resides, the little green bubble next to it signifying that you’re still online. He hovers over the call button, taunting himself with the idea of making a call to you at this time. One little click, and he’d hear your voice again. Just one click and he-

sung ᨐฅ started a call. Today at 11:54 AM

Shit, shit, shit.

He rushes to hang up, but you’ve answered no more than a ring later.

“Hello?”

Jisung holds his rather unsteady breath, staring wide-eyed at his phone. His dick pulses in his palm that now rests still.

“Sung?”

As gently as possible, he lays the phone down on his puffed up chest, letting out his breath slowly so that you don’t hear him.

“I’m gonna assume you called me by accident… ” you sigh out in disappointment, growing quiet in uncertainty. For a second, Jisung is convinced you’re gonna hang up, but when you stay on the line, he peers down at the screen curiously.

Your icon lights up green and there’s some shuffling on your end, presumably from you getting comfortable in bed.

He hears you yawn and smiles fondly.

“I’m tired,” you mumble, “are you asleep? I was actually excited that you called. Maybe it’s my fucked up schedule… or, maybe I’m just dreading tomorrow, but I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know…”

You’re speaking slower and quieter than usual, but you’re speaking, completely oblivious of the fact that he’s thinking of the dirtiest things that involve you, getting off while you think he’s sound asleep.

“It’s always easier to sleep once we’ve talked so,” you pause, then sigh out jokingly, “I guess I'll just talk your unconscious ear off until I fall asleep…You don’t mind, right?”

God, no, he thinks.

Jisung silently celebrates your decision with a pump of his hand, shuffling a bit to get comfortable as you go on about genshin and cats and other things he can barely pay mind to. It takes no more than a few strokes, shallow ones where he caresses the angry head of his dick to the velvety sound of your slurred and drowsy mumbling, for him to bring himself to come so fucking hard.

His knees lock as his cock springs up in his clutched palm, spewing streams of white cum all over his stomach, chest, and thighs. The muscles on his abdomen ache from the way they contract, eyes and jaw shutting tightly as he challenges himself to remain quiet. The sheets aren’t spared from his thick load either, his nut dripping down the sides of his tummy to make dark, round puddles on his bed. His toes curl as he tries his hardest to not gasp out when the pleasure dissolves into sensitivity, digging his head back into the pillow with a hand clasped over his lips.

A few minutes later, the blurriness in his vision is relieved, along with the ringing in his ears. You’ve stopped talking; instead, the receiver picks up your short and shallow breaths, as if you’ve fallen asleep with your mouth open. Cute.

As he assesses the aftermath of his much needed release, he wishes he could snap a picture and send it to you, so that you’d wake up knowing this pathetic mess he made was all for you, because of you.

Alas, he can’t, and he hangs up once he’s completely sure you’re resting. With his eyelids feeling much heavier than before, he manages to toss his phone onto the nightstand before he, too, drifts off to sleep.

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The following morning, Jisung wakes up in a bit of a panic. The first thing that throws him for a loop is the fact that his alarm didn’t go off at all. He quickly realizes he forgot to set it amidst the activities of the night before. The second thing that strikes him is his own hand that rests on his stomach, stuck in some kind of damp, sticky liquid. In his half-conscious state, he lifts his fingers and his puffy eyes widen as he identifies the clear fluid that decorates his tummy as his drying release from the night before.

“Ugh…” He grimaces, sitting up in his bed. His phone, which is less than half full of battery since he forgot to plug it in, blinks back the numbers 8:38 at him. Jisung’s eyes widen as he remembers that his first class of the day, of the semester, is at 9.

“Fuck!” In a flash, his blanket is flung off of him and his legs are swinging over the edge of the bed. He moves to grab some tissues from his nightstand, making aggressively desperate attempts at wiping away his cum. When the Kleenex sticks to him instead, he digs around his drawers for a pack of wet wipes, snatching a pair of pants off of the floor at the same time and practically yanking them up his legs.

Despite almost falling over, he manages to get them on and clean off his torso… for the most part. A random sweatshirt is tugged on over his head and he runs his hand through his hair a few times to tidy it before passively telling his reflection, this will do.

Moments later, he’s rushing downstairs and outside of the dormitory with his unzipped backpack hung over his shoulder. He rushes to unlock his bike, cursing as he fumbles with the keys. Once he’s on, he starts pedaling to the Science building on the other side of campus, heavily dreading checking the time in fear it’ll read some absurd number and he’ll wind up being much later than he anticipates.

The breath that’s been caught in his throat all morning is only released when he steps through the door of the lecture room to see that the professor hasn’t walked in yet, and that the clock reads that he’s 6 minutes early.

Finally slowing his rushed pace, Jisung does a quick once over the room to scan the faces of his fellow students before taking his seat somewhere near the back. Thanking the heavens that his notebook and textbook didn’t go tumbling out of his bag in the midst of his previous hurry, he tugs them out, flipping them open and writing the date on the first page. His laptop, which is where he had planned to take notes on, sits in his dorm room where he left it on his desk. Everyone else has theirs out, but he’ll just have to bring his own next time.

There’s a distant click, and the door on the lowest level of the lecture hall opens. Through it walks a relatively tall and slender lady, heels echoing rhythmically as she strides over to set her dark bag down by the podium. Her hair is tied back high and tight, so much so, that all of her features look like they're blending into her hairline. She looks like she’s somewhere in her mid-to-late fifties, and from the instant she walked in, the entire class went silent.

She clearly has a presence that commands attention and undoubtedly, she fits the visual profile of a strict college professor quite well, especially when she picks up the chalk and scribbles her surname onto the green chalkboard beside the larger projector screen.

“I’m Professor Hwang. Welcome to AST1002, also known as Descriptive Astronomy. If you’re here, that means you took AST1001 with Mr. Kwon last year. He has since transferred to a different department.”

There’s no audible response, although some disappointment does flash across the faces of the students in the room, all of whom did have (and seemingly would miss) Mr. Kwon. Professor Hwang doesn’t seem to notice the lack of responses, and continues speaking as she pulls some papers out.

“Firstly, I’ll take attendance. Then, I’ll pass the syllabus around. I would like for you to note,” she pauses to place a pair of red glasses high on the bridge of her nose, “that attendance is mandatory for my class, and worth 20% of your grade. I’ll go over pop quizzes and weekly quizzes, as well as the initial class project, when each of you have a copy of the syllabus. That being said, I look forward to seeing you all here every class. Please call out when you hear your name.”

As she starts to take attendance, Jisung takes the time to sigh into his hands, both exhausted and dreading the fact that he’d have to spend three days out of the week rotting in a lecture hall to attend a class he expected to be fun, or at the very least a break from his much more difficult core classes. By the looks of it, that’s no longer the plan.

It’s easy to zone out quickly while his mind is still foggy, no doubt from the lack of sleep and the subsequent abrupt awakening that followed. He had just begun an attempt to read the syllabus when something made his ears perk.

Immediately, his head snaps up in pursuit of a soft and airy voice that just responded to Professor Hwang. It’s so quick and in passing that he almost thinks he might have imagined it in his delirious state, but the way the hair on his limbs stands on end is unmistakable. His eyes dart around the room, hitting his classmate’s heads like targets, but there’s absolutely no way to identify the individual who just spoke.

Could it be… No. No way.

Jisung is no stranger to daydreaming about you, but he isn’t completely delusional. He knows the chances of being not only in the same city, but the same university and class as you are absolutely slim to none, so he stops that train of thought dead in its tracks.

It does segway him into thinking of you, though. You’re obviously not here, so he wonders instead what class you are in at the moment. He tries to picture what you’re wearing on your first day of class, trusting you look more put together than him in his old hoodie that is slightly sticking to the dry cum on his stomach. Do you like your classmates? Your professor? He sincerely hopes you have a more tolerable one than he does.

“Park Jisung?”

With a slight cough, he spits out a weak “h-here.” and instantly grimaces, raising his shoulders autonomously as if he would get scolded for stammering so pathetically. The professor, to his relief, doesn’t even glance up from the roster. Then, he feels quite silly for even thinking he would get reproached for that to begin with. In his defense, she’s a rather intimidating woman, and his inner monologue is so loud and flooded with thoughts of you that he fears she may have heard it.

She finishes calling for attendance, resorting to striding up and down the aisles as she begins to dissect the syllabus. In an effort to pretend he’s paying attention, Jisung glances down at the size twelve font on the page, skimming over the words without really taking anything in. During one of the professor’s paces, a pen she had resting on her ear slips and falls towards the ground with a slight clatter, and it seems a student picked it up for her, because there’s a slight mumbling, followed by a sharp “thank you,” and a very, very recognizable,

“You’re welcome, Professor.”

His eyes widen at once. Alright, call him crazy, but now he thinks that it really might have been your voice. The familiar timbre, warm and delicate; a sound he’s heard for months on end and knows embarrassingly well… The thought of being in the same room as you out of sheer luck and coincidence makes his abdomen twist and his palms sweat so bad, he has to wipe them on his pants.

He hates that he can’t fully tell, in fact, he’s almost ashamed that he can’t; before today, Jisung would have sworn up and down that he knew your voice better than even his own, but you sound so far and so quiet that he can’t completely bet all of his marbles. Then, he quickly realizes calling it ‘your voice’ definitely makes him sound delusional, even in the safety of his own forgiving conscience. He decides to call it ‘the voice’ for now, at least until he’s a hundred-percent sure.

An irritatingly long hour and half later, the only sound that continues to ring around the lecture hall is Professor Hwang’s monotone one, reciting each and every itemized assignment and rule on the never-ending syllabus. There’s less than fifteen minutes until class is over, and she shows no signs of stopping her dissertation.

“As for the class project: In pairs of two, you will research a constellation extensively to create a presentation on its formation, who cataloged it, and the Greek myth that may accompany it. Please note that this is the first and last time we will talk about constellations in this class, since they are not cosmic phenomenons but instead, a mere roadmap to the objects and themes we will be focusing on. Consider this strictly as an opportunity to familiarize yourselves with another classmate and show me your interest and effort in the subject. That concludes our syllabus,” Thank God, Jisung thinks.

“Any questions?” She glances around at a hand that floats in the air, near the front of the room, “yes?”

“Will we be able to select our partners?”

“No. Partners will be assigned at the end of the week. Yes?” She calls on another hand.

“As for the constellations,” Wait, that’s it! That’s the voice—that’s your voice, he’s completely sure of it! “Will you assign those as well?”

Jisung elongates his neck to try and peek over the heads in his way. It is you, he’s positive now, but you’re turned away from him, and he can’t fully make out which ‘back of the head’ is your ‘back of the head.’ The echo in the hall makes it nearly impossible to pinpoint who just spoke which means he can’t pinpoint you. For some reason, he finds himself slightly panicking, desperate to finally see you in person.

He follows Professor Hwang's line of sight as she answers that she’ll assign the constellations on Friday too, and finally finds you, seated between a few other students. A few more questions are thrown around, but his eyes never leave you, anticipating the moment he catches a glimpse of your face.

Naturally, his first instinct is to approach you as soon as class is out, but when he sees you spin around to pick up your bag that hangs off your chair, he finds himself glued to his own flimsy seat. Feet stuck to the ground, legs not budging, and air hitched in his throat at the sight of you.

You’re so, so much prettier than he could have imagined with whatever unoriginal features he tried to piece together in his lacking mind, and that fact makes him both exhilarated and completely nauseous.

He’s barely been looking at you for a few seconds when he feels his insatiable cock growing fast in the confines of his pants, with no regard for its owner and the fact that he has to stand up within the next minute or so to exit the hall. Jisung curses under his breath, awkwardly rising to his feet when most of his classmates leave, his bag clutched tightly in front of his groin. He prays you don’t glance over, not even because he has a semi-hard on he’s failing to hide with dissimulation, but because he’s staring at you like some sort of freak and can’t seem to look away.

There’s nothing he wants more than to come up to you and say hi and confess he’s the person you’ve been gaming with for months. He’s pictured it countless times before, you’d think he’d have it down by now, but your beauty is intimidating, and he simply cannot and will not make a fool of himself in front of you by greeting you with a raging boner.

You walk out of the classroom and Jisung’s heart settles in his chest as he sits with his decision to stay anonymous for now.

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

“She was obnoxious, you have no idea!”

“My teacher wasn’t much different,” he admits, a small, knowing smile toying at his lips, “she seemed like a real bitch,”

It’s later that same evening, and talking to you doesn’t really feel the same anymore. It’s much harder, because now, Jisung can vividly picture you, sitting in your chair with your hands on your keyboard and mouse. Every word you say, his imagination is right thereafter, picturing your pretty face clear as day in the forefront of his mind.

The moment he got home, he fucked his fist until he came in his hand. It took about five minutes, and then he pumped another one out in the shower, (a much needed shower, at that) where he finally washed away the remains of the night before.

After he had lunch with Mark and the other boys from his floor, they had invited him to play basketball. At the same time, however, he received a direct message from you, explaining you didn’t have any other classes for the day and asking if he could get on earlier.

It’s a little ridiculous, but now that he’s seen you, now that he knows you’re so much closer than he initially thought, he can’t wait to talk to you again. And so he quickly came up with an empty excuse related to his studies, took the berating from his friends like a champ, and rushed upstairs to log into his PC and open up your chat.

“Not only do we already have a project, but we don’t even get to pick our partners.”

I know! He thinks.

“Like,” you start, and he pictures the way your cheeks fill up with air as you let out a huff, “what if I get stuck with some weirdo?”

Instantly, Jisung stops palming himself, letting his hand climb back up to the mouse slowly.

He probably shouldn’t let that innocent statement affect him as much as it does, but he can’t help it. He has the advantage, right? Or, at least it seems that way.

When everything is laid out, he has the upperhand of knowing who you are—you haven’t seen him, yet… but what if you did see him, and he wasn’t at all what you were expecting? Or even worse, what if you got paired together for the project and you thought he was weird or the two of you didn’t get along? That option is far less likely, since there are well over fifty students in AST1002.

“I don’t know,” you start, “I’m considering switching out of the class-”

“No!” Wow. Good going, Jisung.

He catches his slip-up and quickly blurts out, “I-I mean, it might not be that bad! You should… at least give it a shot before you try to switch out, right?”

“I guess you’re right… The add and drop period at my school is until next Friday, so I'll try it out until then.”

Great! Perfect! Good save. The only problem now is: Jisung has a little over a week and a half to somehow convince you to stay in his class and at the same time, not completely butcher his introduction to you. Approaching you now seems practically impossible, but he needs you to stay in the class, even if it means he has to come up to you first. He can’t be bothered to care that his insistence is for his own selfish intentions, if it means getting to see you three times a week.

“But anyway,” he clears his throat, changing the topic as quickly as possible, “how did your other class go?”

“Much better than the first, the teacher let us out early once he covered the books we’d be analyzing this semester and attendance isn’t mandatory since most of the material is online or in the library. I think I’ll swing by there one of these days to see if I can get ahead on some of the assignments.”

“Oh, so you’re a nerd?” You gasp and smack his character in-game a few times. He laughs, calling out, “okay, okay, truce! You’re not a nerd then, just an overachiever.”

“How so?”

“We’re barely a day into the semester and you’re already trying your homework that I’m sure isn’t due for at least a few weeks,”

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s right. With a bit of playful flirtation twisted into your tone, you hum out, “What can I say? I like to please.”

One of his eyebrows perks up, “is that right?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He can hear your smirk through the screen, and now, he can vividly picture it, too.

Jisung scoffs, backing away from your character so that he’s out of your sight. He cowers into a corner in game; this way, you don’t notice how he stops moving when his left hand leaves the w,a,s,d keys to cup and rub his needy bulge.

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

Wednesday’s class is somehow packed and entirely uneventful at the same time. The first of Professor Hwang’s dragging lectures is so loaded that Jisung actually thanks the heavens that he remembered to bring his laptop. Otherwise, his notebook would have been about halfway full already, and his hand? It would have fallen off.

On another relevant note, he’s struggling to stay focused because today, he is sitting much closer to you. Intentionally, of course. There’s still a few rows between him and you, but in this new seat, he can glance at you as often as he’d like without straining his eyes or stretching out his neck to make his gawking painfully obvious. He can clearly make out your smooth skin, along with other details he wasn’t able to notice before like your beauty marks and your dainty earrings. You’re paying unfaltering attention to the class for the first hour, but after the sixty-minute mark, you appear to have become bored. He catches the way your pencil starts doodling along the corners of your notebook and it takes everything in him not to snort when you scribble down a wonky looking cat.

He’s so distracted by you, that every couple of slides, he glances back to the projector to see that the class is now on an entirely different topic than the one he last managed to jot down. He doesn’t mind, though. You’re a much more enthralling sight than quasars and supernovas.

Halfway through the lesson, you decide to peel off your little black cardigan and hang it on the back of your chair, exposing your arms and neck and shoulders to him. Your hair is tied up neatly right after, giving him all the more to gawk at and envision. Jisung has to remind himself that he’s in a classroom just so that he doesn’t start fantasizing about how it would feel to grip your hair up in a similar fashion and fill your throat up with his dick.

With great difficulty, he directs his focus to the board instead, typing quickly into his laptop all the notes he manages to catch before the slide changes again and Professor Hwang’s narrow eyes can scan the room to see who’s paying attention.

When the class is over, you start talking with the girl next to you, aimlessly reaching back for your bag. The gesture makes your cardigan fall, and Jisung has to fully bite his tongue to keep himself from calling out your name and giving himself away. He waits to see if you’ll notice, or if someone nearby will alert you, but neither one happens. Instead, you stand up, still engrossed in your conversation, and make your way towards the door. Instantly, he jogs down the aisle and between the seats to grab it and wordlessly hand it to you, but by the time he makes a move to head in your direction, you’ve already left.

He feels disappointed at first, but the feeling quickly shifts into relief. Wordlessly hand it to you? Does he want your first impression of him to be awkward and borderline rude? No and definitely no. This problem has a simple solution—it’s a blessing in disguise; he’ll take your cardigan home and bring it to you on Friday and maybe, if his courage allows, he can introduce himself then.

“Hey! I noticed you left your sweater here last class. I brought it for you. Oh, and by the way, it’s me! I’m @sung.ie. How did I know it was you? I can recognize your voice across a huge lecture hall.”

Yeah… he’ll think more on that later.

With your cardigan clutched in his fist, Jisung sighs, making his way outside and towards his bicycle. He tucks the clothing item into his backpack and pedals back home, wondering how he’s going to manage to give it back to you since you always get to and leave class before him.

He knows some of his friends and dorm-mates have their own class today, they had exchanged schedules during lunch a few days ago, which leaves him to hope and pray you’ve decided to skip your class and get online. As he parks his bicycle downstairs and locks it, he slips his phone from his pocket and opens discord, but your bubble remains gray and cold. You’re offline.

Maybe you haven’t gotten home yet. He checks his phone again when he gets upstairs, and again when he goes inside his dorm, tossing his bag aside and crashing on his bed. He checks after losing a round of candy crush, and again after replying to a text from his mom.

By the looks of it, you were in class, or at the very least, not available for the moment. Jisung sighs, pretending he’s not actually as disappointed as he feels. It seems a bit dramatic to feel the need to kill time until he gets to talk to you again so he resorts to doing physics homework—a short baseline his teacher assigned that wouldn’t be graded—and tricking his brain into thinking the former is not what he’s actually doing.

When he pulls his bag off his desk chair to grab his laptop, your cardigan comes into view, and he pauses to look at it. He sits like this for a moment, wondering if he should fold it nicely on his dresser so he can remember to take it to you, but his hands act before his mind can catch up, reaching in and basically shoving the material toward his face.

With his nose buried in your scent, Jisung inhales deeply, sinking into his chair as his legs grow weaker. The trace of your floral softener is the first aroma he gets, and then, the smell of your perfume peeks through, soft and sweet and very fitting for you. Once more, his treacherous hands are acting for themselves and he’s suddenly undoing his belt single-handedly.

Once his dick, growing by the minute, is out and clutched in his palm, he finally retracts your sweater. With little hesitation, he wraps it around his erection and pumps once, throwing his head back in immediate relief.

It’s a fucking miracle that his room is the last one at the end of the hall, and that his next door neighbors, Renjun and Jaemin, are both in their afternoon lectures, because nothing would have been able to muffle the wanton moan that rips from his chest as he strokes himself with your scent. His hips are bucking up into the air, and in only a few minutes, he’s broken a slight sweat. His balls tighten from sheer sensitivity at the act of fucking something directly related to you.

A cry of your name, followed by a few more pumps and he’s coming inside your mangled cardigan, his white release breaching the thin material. It seeps through it like light through a veil, gathering thickly on top before spreading into a dark, wet patch. There’s a shudder that passes through his bones as he sits back, burying his cock into the fabric and keeping it there until he’s given up every last drop.

The only thing that snaps him from his post-nut bliss, is the distinct discord ring-tone that blasts through his headset. His computer monitor turns on as your icon appears and simultaneously, his heart and dick both twitch.

“Hello?” With his output device swung over his head, he presses the green ‘answer’ button and speaks into the mic, hiding his slight shortness of breath with a yawn.

“I’m so glad you answered,” you beam, and he does too, “I was worried I had called while you were in class or something,”

As he speaks, he wipes the remnants of his cum off with your cardigan and puts it aside on his desk, tucking his softening (and still very sensitive) dick away into his boxers, “No, you’re good. I had a class earlier today but now I’m free.”

“What a relief,” you sigh, “Would you want to have a little homework ‘sesh’ with me? I just found out the library doesn’t have any available labs. I doubt I’ll be able to concentrate much with you but at least I'll be in good company.”

“Like an e-date?”

“We can call it that,” you grin, then he pictures your expression becoming a gloom one to match your slightly sadder tone as you admit, “Sometimes I wish we went to the same school so we could meet up and study at a coffee shop.”

He snorts, unable to help but crack a joke, “Like a real date?”

Your laugh makes his heart swell slightly. When you reply, “Maybe,” it starts flipping wildly in his chest.

God, you can’t even begin to imagine how badly he wants that.

“That would be nice,” he agrees humbly, a blush creeping on his cheeks. “What class are you gonna study for?”

There’s a pause before you speak again where you hum in thought, flipping through a few pages and shuffling through your bag. Jisung joins you, grabbing his laptop and school supplies, “I have a project for my astronomy class. It’s related to constellations and I wanna start researching them so that I can make an outline for the assignment,”

He looks through his math notes with his brows furrowed down, “I thought she was gonna assign them on Friday?”

Your icon flickers as you reply, “She is, but I want to—wait. How did you know that?” At your words and the realization of his untimely slip up, Jisung’s body goes rigid. He can only imagine the confusion on your features, and he’s quite relieved you can’t see the look on his. If his eyes were to open any wider, he’s sure they might just slip out of his head.

“Oh, um,” he clears his throat mechanically, then gulps in an effort to lubricate it and keep his voice steady, assertive, certain. “You mentioned it on Monday, remember?”

“Did I?” You didn’t, but he really hopes you think you did. “Probably,” At that, he lets out the air he’s holding, shaking his head slightly at himself for being so careless.

“But um, yeah,” he starts before you can give it any further thought, “If she’s assigning them Friday why are you working on it today?”

“Cause she’s also assigning partners on Friday, and I don’t really know anyone besides the girl who sits next to me and I doubt I’ll get paired with her. I want to make sure my grade is secured, you know? I’ve never liked group projects. I feel like all the work gets dumped on me.”

He’s still not entirely sure what you mean to do, or how you intend to create a blueprint of sorts without knowing what it was for, and so he stops flicking through his page of notes to look up at his monitor and ask, “But if you don’t know which constellation you’re gonna work on, how are you gonna make an outline?”

You ponder his question for a moment, then mumble out, “She didn’t mention a rubric or anything, so I figured that as long as I plan out the different sections and give the project a structure, half of the work is cut out, right? I can just assign parts at that point.”

“You’re that kinda person in a group project? I’m sorry to whoever gets partnered with you,” He’s not sorry, not at all. He’s rather envious, actually, despite his attempts to sound indifferent or amusing. Being granted time to spend with you at your place or his, or at the library or the local campus cafe, would be a no less than perfect ice breaker. Jisung would make sure you never felt like all the research and assembling depended solely on you—in fact, he could see himself now, spending countless hours perfecting the details of his assigned part and inquiring about other suggestions to improve the project, just to impress you or at the very least, satisfy you. The reality that someone else would get to do all of that in his place is disheartening.

You guys had rarely ever talked about school before now, since neither of you actually were enrolled in any classes when you started chatting, but now that it’s relevant, he feels like he understands a whole different side of you. You’re organized, and obviously very studious. Hell, you’ve been itching to get started on assignments that haven’t even been assigned yet. You’re responsible, dependable, funny, beautiful, and every time he thinks of you lately, he realizes that his innocent crush is slowly becoming an insatiable one.

“Hey! I’d be very nice if it was you, you know. Show you some favoritism,” the corners of his lips twitch upwards—“But I’m also glad it’s not you,”—and fall down again.

“What? Why?” He tries to not sound too offended.

“I’d end up talking your ear off, Sung.”

“I’m already used to that, don’t mind it. Kinda like it, actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nods curtly, even though there’s a monitor and an entire school campus between you and him and he knows you have no way of seeing his gesture. There's a moment of silence that you spend taking a brief breath as a glow tinges your cheeks.

With a stifled laugh, you open your mouth again, “I think it’s just because you like me that you tolerate my rambling,”

“No.” He’s quick to clarify, “I really do like it.” He loves it.

“And me?” your voice is much quieter, almost giving the impression that you’re shy in asking something so decisive and direct. Jisung, emboldened by your vulnerability, and the distance the screen puts between you two, answers with certainty.

“I like you, too.”

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

“The constellation project, as I mentioned during your first class, is a tool for you to acquaint yourself with your classmates. It will be due in 3 weeks, and you can check the syllabus for specifications regarding that. After today, there will be no changing partners or constellations so should you need any changes to be made, you have until class is dismissed. Listen closely as I read out the pairs for the project. I will not repeat myself.”

The sharp tone he’s growing more and more distaste for by the day drowns out as Jisung glances over at you. Today, you’re sporting a bone-colored long sleeve and corduroy pants with half of your hair held back in a shiny clip. You look ravishing. Truthfully, he can’t really tell if you’re wearing makeup or not—although he concludes it doesn’t matter. Your features are soft and pretty nonetheless, and your cheeks have turned rosy from the dropping autumn temperatures.

“Yu Karina will be partnered with Lee Heesung. Your constellation is Cassiopeia.”

When you walked into the lecture hall this morning, there was a hot coffee cup with the campus cafe’s logo on it clutched in your hands, which you sipped on while shivering. Taking your usual seat, you greeted the girl next to you, who Jisung now knew was called Yu Karina.

The dark haired girl perked up when Professor Hwang called her name and waved down the aisle at who he can only assume is Lee Heesung, her partner, then whispered something to you. You looked over at the boy and back at Karina, nodding and giggling with her.

“Jennifer Huh, partnered with Ning Yizhuo,” Professor Hwang referenced her other list, “Constellation: Cancer.”

The two girls greet each other with a look and a smile, but Jisung pays little mind. He’s listening intently—for the first time—in anticipation of hearing one of your names be called. He doesn’t exactly know your full name, only a nickname he refers to you as, the one attached to your discord handle. Otherwise, pinpointing you that first day of class would’ve been much easier.

“Park Jay and Lee Sohee, your constellation is Orion.”

Sitting there, he realizes that in all the months you’ve talked, he’s never once asked for your full first name. Is that strange? What kind of friend is he if he doesn’t even know your name? In all fairness, you never asked for his, either, so he supposes it’s okay. Would have been useful to know, though, at times like this.

After his small confession of ‘like’ on Wednesday, the two of you went on studying your respective subjects, with the occasional (and inevitable) distraction here and there. Admittedly, he thought his comment would be forgotten rather quickly. It wasn’t like he outwardly poured his heart out to you, so he figured you’d move on and just crack a joke or two about it later. There was a change, though; a strikingly obvious one to Jisung, who hangs on your every word like it’s a tether that keeps him from floating. And, even if he didn’t pay such close attention to you, there’s no way he could have missed the new flirtatious ambiance that flourished afterwards. Flirting with you is not uncommon by any means—the two of you playfully tease each other with frequency, but it’s nothing he’d allow himself to look into too much, for his own sake.

That changed in the hours following his comments. All of Wednesday evening, the two of you went back and forth, feeding each other compliments in the form of banter. Again, he thought it would end there, but on Thursday afternoon when you logged on, he asked how your progress was going with the outline, to which you texted back, “I was thinking of you all day. Didn’t get around to doing much else.”

It wasn’t the only message from you that nurtured his feelings, either. There were enough substantially flirty messages from your conversation that night, that he was able to scroll through them and reread them a few times before bed.

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 6:49PM

hi did you smile when you saw my name pop up on your phone just now

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 8:22 PM

you’re so cute

i can barely think

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 9:14 PM

i feel like my day doesn’t make sense if we don’t talk

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 10:58 PM

i should get to sleep

but i don’t wanna stop texting you

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 12:02 AM

goodnight, sung <3 miss you til’ you’re back

Now, as he eyes you with a boyish, lovesick gaze, watching you doodle your stupid little drawings as you await your assignment, he finds himself praying for the courage to come up to you after class.

Professor Hwang calls your name next, something he only realizes at the fitting similarity of your nickname and the way your pen meets the table in alert to being called on, head lifting up and eyes blinking expectantly.

“Your partner will be,”

Jisung holds his breath, chanting in his head ‘please, oh, please let it be me,’

“Lee Chan.”

Wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere, then. He ignores the way his heart sinks into the pits of his stomach, unable to help but observe your curious gaze as it looks around the filled seats. For a fleeting moment, you meet his eyes, but he doesn’t react or claim to be Lee Chan who you so evidently are in search of, and so you pass him and keep studying the aisles. After a few seconds, you find no one gazing back, even after you slightly stand to peer above the nearby heads that obscure your view.

“Your constellation is-”

With a cautious raise of your hand, you interrupt Professor Hwang gently, “Excuse me, Professor, but I don’t think my partner is here.”

For a moment, her lazer-like gaze looks like it could light you on fire, a consequence of daring to interrupt her, but it softens only slightly as she realizes the truth in your statement, scanning the room herself and calling out for the missing boy. Upon receiving no call back, she thinks for a moment, then looks back down at her clipboard and crosses something out.

“I did mention attendance was mandatory, didn’t I?” This she mutters to herself, “No matter. Instead, you’ll work with,” she gives the paper another once over, then clicks her pen and speaks, “Park Jisung.”

In an awkward burst of both excitement and confusion, Jisung darts out of his chair. His knee hits his desk with a clang, and his laptop would have gone flying if it wasn’t for his quick hands that catch it before it can fall. The loud ruckus turns several heads in his direction, including Professor Hwang’s and more importantly, yours.

Feeling an awful lot like a deer caught in headlights, Jisung blinks as the two of you make eye-contact, then he takes his seat again, very quickly by the way. “Uh, that’s me,” he announces, heat spreading across his face and eyes darting around, “Sorry.”

Does he feel more sorry to his teacher and classmates for disrupting the classroom, or to himself and you for the absolute fool he has just made of himself? As much as he’d like to tear his gaze away from yours and cast it to the ground in embarrassment, it remains stuck on you, awaiting your impending reaction.

You’re rather unsure how to feel, though given, a little surprised at the commotion. You offer him a small smile through pursed lips, and Jisung nods, willing with all his might for a hole to open in the ground beneath him and swallow him.

“Thank you, Mr. Park, for your remarkably clear confirmation. Your constellation is Gemini.”

You turn in your chair to face the front again, scribbling down his name in the corner of your notebook, as well as the constellation you’d been assigned.

“He’s cute,” Karina comments to you as you look over at her, and you finally let out a small laugh you had been holding in.

“He is. Clumsy,” you snort, “but cute.”

“We both got cute partners. We should meet up at the library later and all get started on the project together,”

You nod enthusiastically, going back to your outline that sits at the ready on your laptop screen and making quick work of labeling the different sections evenly. If it wasn’t so obvious for you to spin around and steal a glance, you might have done so again. You’re certainly tempted to, thinking back to seconds ago and realizing you hadn’t really noticed him the last two classes.

Jisung watches your exchange with his dignity at serious risk. He’s entirely unable to hear or make out what you’re saying to each other, and it makes his pulse pick up and his mind race. He considers many things as he watches the two of you talk: firstly, asking to change his partner, but then realizing that would be an awful idea. Once you knew who he was, how would you ever forgive him for immediately ditching you? Absolutely not. Cowering had gotten him nowhere so far.

Then, he considers switching out of the class himself, and disappearing, never to reveal himself to you—but that wasn’t the right thing to do either. Incapable of checking out of your life so quickly and denying himself the treat that is seeing you three times a week (and now, possibly more), he cans that idea, too.

As Professor Hwang finishes reading off the list of names, he begins planning what he’ll actually say to you, as that conversation is just minutes away. There’s less than a half-hour left of class, which means he has to think hard and fast.

As he busies himself with the grueling task of picking an appropriate and redeeming introduction, he doesn’t hear the new instructions from Professor Hwang, which are to find your partner and begin brainstorming, as well as exchanging schedules to set aside time outside of class to work on the presentation. A shadow falls over his desk and consumes his work space in darkness. When his curiously squinted eyes trail up to find the source, only to land on you, hovering above him with your things clutched in your arms, he grips his seat to keep from jumping out of it for the second time today.

“Is this seat taken?”

So much for having time to figure out how to approach you. His heart does a leap of surprise in his chest in place of his physical body, and he resists the urge to clutch it.

“No.” He replies shortly.

With your unfaltering, kind smile still present on your face, you laugh softly and place your things down, introducing yourself.

“You’re Ji-sun, right?”

“—Sung.” he politely corrects you. When you don’t immediately react, he wonders if you had even heard him. He doesn’t put it past himself to have imagined that he replied to you, between his sweating palms and nervous jittering, and your pretty self sitting just a foot away, he’s barely keeping it together. After a moment that feels infinitely longer than it actually is, you raise your eyebrows slightly, round lips parted to ask your question with a palpable hesitance.

“W-what?”

“Jisung,” he quickly replies, pronouncing the ‘g’ clearly and masking the way his eyes widen with a heavy blink that honestly, may not serve as any better of a guise. He pleads with himself to get his shit together but luckily, you don’t seem to notice.

“Oh, sorry… Sorry, It’s just—nevermind. Hi, Jisung.”

“Hi, Y/N.” He savors the way your name feels on his tongue but keeps his enjoyment brief.

“I hope you don’t mind,” you start, lifting the screen of your laptop to reveal the very same outline you had started working on during your last call with him, “but I already made an outline. If you wanna scrap it and start all over, we can—”

“No, It’s fine, we can use this,” when you give him an unsure look, he smiles reassuringly, “It looks brilliant.”

“Thank you.” There’s a pause that is filled only by you clearing your throat, “Ok, I have a literature class right after this one on Mondays and Wednesdays. The rest of my classes are online, so I’m free at any time, really. I usually like to study at the computer labs in the library, it’s nice and private there and I find it much easier to focus. But if you don’t want to go there, we could always go to the cafe or the square for some fresh air. Oh, and either one of our dorm rooms works fine if you’re okay-”

To experience your presence on a phone call is one thing, but to experience it in real life, with your clear voice so arresting and your silky, smooth lips within reach, is absolutely mesmerizing. He’s fighting the urge to glance down at your mouth, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to sustain eye contact, as lovely as he decides your eyes are. Another thing that is becoming exponentially harder, and more sensitive all the same, is his cock, springing to life with an eagerness to greet you.

There’s a bit of panic that flashes across his features as he senses the strain it’s causing in his pants, and only when you look down at your outline does he dare to sneak a glance down at his own groin where as expected, a noticeable imprint was beginning to develop. In a desperate gesture, he slides his notebook over his lap, suppressing a hiss, and leans forward to pretend to use his own laptop.

“Any of those work for me,”

“Okay, great,” You notice the time and turn back to him. “You can just message me when you’re free.”

“Sure.”

“And here’s my number—” you reach over, sliding the protective notebook from his lap and placing it on your desk, scribbling your number in the corner. Jisung immediately readjusts his hoodie, throwing the hem of it over his boner. Professor Hwang dismisses the class as you pass it back.

“Call me whenever you’re free.” With a spin of your heel, you wave goodbye to him and rejoin Karina, who waits for you at the door with her partner.

Jisung lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and looks down at the number you wrote. Beside the digits, written in very neat handwriting, might he add, sat perched on a wobbly branch a little black cat that he recognized from his hours of staring as one of your doodles.

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The time is 4:33PM, and Jisung has drafted over a dozen messages on the iMessage app addressed to your number. None of them have exactly made it to you yet, courtesy of his thumb that keeps pressing backspace and wiping out any trace of a remotely embarrassing text. It’s the next day and no introduction or invitation to meet up seems like it’s good enough to send, though he knows that inevitably, he has to text you first. You left your number behind with the doodle that he has since stuck to the corner of his PC monitor, but you never took down his; so now, the ball is in Jisung’s court, and he knows that if he waits too long, you’d think he was avoiding you or the project altogether.

Realistically, he knows a simple “Hi, it’s Jisung,” will suffice, but he can’t bring himself to send you such an unoriginal and boring message. After pondering for a moment, he then decides the best solution would be to do some research, and then call you with his findings—this way, his interest in the project would be clear, and he knows how important that is to you.

At once, he peels your cum-stained cardigan off of his lap, though not before stealing a glance at the day’s new additions, and places it aside. He tucks his spent dick into his short and turns on his monitor, typing the name of the constellation into Google and investigating nearly every website he could find with any useful information.

In the nicest handwriting he can manage, Jisung bullets a list of all the facts and history he could find on ‘Gemini’ within the hour, including the stars that make up the constellation, the myth behind it, and other relevant statistics. It isn’t until he has filled up an entire page front and back—partially—that he picks up his phone again and makes another attempt at contacting you.

Feeling slightly more confident, he types up his message.

To: 555-111-0205

hi, it’s jisung from astronomy. i did some research and i wanted to show you what i found. let me

know if you’re free to exchange notes. Sent at 5:52 PM.

Jisung rereads over his message for any flaws, though there’s nothing he can do about it now that it’s sent, anyway. After he deems it an okay first message, he takes a breath and moves to put his phone down, but it buzzes in his hand instead.

Incoming call at 5:54 PM From: 555-111-0205

“Hi-”

“Hi! Sorry to just call unannounced but I’m walking to the library with all my stuff and I can’t really text. I was able to book us a computer lab for the next two hours so If you want, we—can you hear me?”

He sits up straighter, “Yeah! Yes, I can hear you,”

“Oh, good, so—wait, hello?” Your voice shifts in volume and proximity, as if you pulled your phone from your ear to check the call screen, then brought it back, “Oh, sorry. I-I thought I had accidentally called someone else… nevermind.” Instantly, Jisung realizes instantly that you must have recognized his voice. It makes sense, seeing as you’re used to hearing it specifically on calls. You seem to show no further suspicion as you continue speaking, though, but perhaps, he should keep talking on the phone with you to a minimum.

“Do you think you can make it? Otherwise I can go work on my own. I saw your text and instantly booked the room. Sorry for not checking in with you first,”

“I’ll meet you there,” He replies quickly, grimacing at the instinctual effort it takes to try and make his voice deeper.

“Okay! Great. I’ll see you there, then.” You hang up, and then your text message comes through with the lab room information just minutes later.

Jisung all but lunges out of his chair and rushes to face himself in the mirror, taking in his reflection. Besides his hair that looks slightly disheveled, he looks alright. He doesn’t want to make you wait long for him, so he quickly grabs his laptop and his notes, shoves them all into his bag, and flies out of his dorm room with the laces of his sneakers left untied.

In the brightly, yellow-lit hallway, Mark and Chenle are popping out of their respective rooms, a basketball clutched under the younger boy’s arm.

“We were just about to come grab you,” Chenle starts, “Let’s play some ball. Jeno’s meeting us at the court,”

“Can’t,” Jisung shakes his head, “I’m going to the library,” he tries to not get offended at the way the two boys snort loudly in disbelief, looking at each other as if they’ve both had the same thought.

“Yeah, right.” Chenle scoffs.

With a blink, Jisung replies meekly, “I’m serious.”

“Since when do you go to the library?” Mark brows pinch and he adds, “It’s the start of term. You’re already studying?”

“Since now, I guess. I have a project for a class so I’m gonna go meet up with my partner at the library, but I’ll catch you guys later.”

“Alright, alright. Oh—remember there’s a party next week at Jaehyun’s frat for syllabus week.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” His answer doesn’t seem to fully convince Mark, Chenle, or even himself, but they seem satisfied enough, because they let Jisung go without any more pestering. He flies down the flight of stairs and out the front door of the dormitory.

The cold September air is biting at this time in the evening, feeling particularly cool on the apples of his cheek, which glow from the light layer of sweat that develops during his jog over to the library. It’s a considerable distance away, which is part of the reason why he, in his two years of being a student at the university, has never seriously stepped foot inside of it. Studying in his room is much more convenient, but you seem to like the library, so the twenty-minute-walk there, or in this case, fifteen-minute-jog, will simply have to be adopted as a new way to get in some brief exercise a few times a week.

More than likely, you have already arrived, and Jisung doesn’t want to make you wait too long for him, especially since there’s a two-hour time limit on the room and he intends to spend as much time with you there as he can. He wipes his cheeks with his gray sleeves and climbs up the stairs of the building quickly, swiping his student card at the door and stepping inside.

The ceiling is massively tall, seemingly taller than when he once saw it during freshman orientation, and the endless rows of shelves are filled with books, ranging from thin, colorful novels to thick, leather-bound classics. It’s quieter than he expects it to be, even for a library, and he clearly can hear the pitter patter of his feet as he follows the sign labeled ‘Study Rooms and Computer Labs.’

The guy at the reception desk in this section seems to be a volunteer, his student ID and name tag shining on his shirt. He glances up from his book when Jisung approaches, nodding once. There’s an awkward silence that feels rather loud as Jisung fumbles with his phone, flipping it between his clammy hands as he searches for your message.

“Computer Lab 4C?”

Wordlessly, the boy nods again, then slides over a clip-board with a sign-in sheet clamped to it.

It’s surprising to see how many lab spots are filled up so early into the term, names scribbled along the lines and time-slots. Your name stands out, partly because of your familiar handwriting, but particularly because of the empty line beside it, where he signs in before handing the clip-board back.

“Down the hall, second door on your right.”

It’s Jisung’s turn to bob his head once and the boy looks back down at his book. He makes his way down the hall until he reaches the correctly labeled door. His hand reaches for the handle, but he withdraws it. Should he knock? Or maybe send you a text? Or both?

To: 555-111-0205

hey again. i’m outside :) Sent at 6:18 PM.

The door creaks open from the taps of his knuckles bumping against it, and he peeks his head in timidly, finding you sitting in one of the desk chairs, nearly hidden behind your laptop and a stack of books. You look up over the screen, eyes squinting in a smile.

“Oh, I had left the door open for you,” you stand up, holding out a cup for him, “and I got you coffee… didn’t know how you liked it so I just got you the same thing I order,”

There’s a fluttering in his stomach as he sets his bag down. There’s no chance he can manage to meet your eyes after such a gesture so he casts them to the ground instead, graciously reaching out to receive with both hands the drink you offer him, “You didn’t have to,” he mumbles, “but thank you. I’m sure your order is great,”

“I wanted to! It’s just—I mean, I did drag you out of your room in the cold and on really short notice—A hot coffee was the least I could do,” you shrug, “One of my friends works at the cafe and I was there doing some work for my literature class before I got your message and I figured I’d grab us both something before I headed over here… Sorry, I’m talking too much. Here, sit down.”

He’s not exactly sure what to say, so he takes his seat beside you in silence, but not without a small smile decorating his face. The notes he had taken down to show you are retrieved from his bag, as well as his laptop. There’s a low screech of your chair dragging across the floor, and he turns to find you’ve scooted closer and you're leaning forward with your cheek resting on your palm, eyes intently looking at his research.

“It isn’t much. I’m sure whatever you found is much more substantial, but I couldn’t show up empty handed.” Jisung explains, sliding the paper over to you. As your eyes scan the page, you make a few comments along the lines of ‘Oh, this is a good point,’ or ‘We should mention this.’

You seem to be very carefully reading his work. Meanwhile, he takes advantage of your preoccupation to let his eyes rake over your person.

The first thing he notices is that you’re wearing a different cardigan, and he suddenly remembers your black one is still on his desk, unwashed and covered in his cum. Your hair looks soft, and when you mindlessly swing it over your shoulder, he catches a whiff of your lavender scented hair wash, and it makes him gnaw the inside of his cheek. You’re not quite close enough for him to catch the perfume you’ve decided to wear tonight, though he can vividly picture the gentle florals that linger still on your cardigan. His eyes trail down, and it’s only then that he notices your skirt—or blatantly, the length of your skirt. Your smooth thighs are exposed, full and fleshy and pressed together, and he suddenly wishes they were wrapped around his head.

“Jisung? You okay?”

“I–Yeah, sorry.” It’s clear that you’ve noticed his staring, and he all but rips his eyes away in embarrassment, “I was just wondering if you were cold,” He gestures down at your legs shyly, pretending the content he’d written on the paper was more interesting the sight of your plush thighs.

For a moment he expects some harsh comment or outburst, but you laugh instead, smoothing the material down a bit, “No, not in here, at least. And the walk over was short, so,” His lips are pursed and his cheeks are burning, but you spare him from any further humiliation when you reach across him to turn the page over and quietly gasp, muttering some surprise under your breath at how extensive his work is. “This is really good. We can use pretty much all of it.”

Failing to hide his beaming at your praise, he snaps his head over to you, “You think so?”

“Yeah, I mean—,” The screen of your laptop changes over to a page of notes, “I pretty much wrote down all the same things. I’m actually so relieved, I was worried I might get paired up with someone who wasn’t gonna contribute.”

“Bet you’re glad you didn’t switch out of the class now, huh?”

Distracted in the notes and in the taste of his coffee, he misses your quick, confused glance his way. Smoothly recovering before he notices, you slowly nod and present to him the layout where you had already taken the liberty to assign him his designated parts. Not that he expected anything else; it’s endearing to see his name labeled over specific sections, color-coded in a blue, bolded font. He wastes no time in pulling up the screen of his computer, exchanging emails with you so the two of you can get to work on the shared document.

The time passes quicker than he hopes, and he realizes just how much he likes spending time with you. Talking with you online is one thing, but sitting beside you as you sip your drink and hum mindlessly, fingers typing away or flipping pages in a book? Completely different game. He’s sure that if it wasn’t because he relieved himself earlier today, he might have popped a boner from the simple act of being in your presence.

Every once in a while, you make an occasional comment regarding a point or two you thought was worth mentioning or adding, and he’d oblige, making a note of it and sharing his thoughts here and there. Occasionally, he manages to steal a look at your thighs, which he swears you’re bouncing and squeezing together on purpose, but for the most part he keeps his focus on the task at hand.

Towards the end of the night, there’s a moment where your hands brush his as you point something out on his screen, and Jisung swears he’s never felt more like a teenage boy in his life. He practically flinches at the contact, failing to mask his awkward reaction and pretending he really meant to fix his hair.

Bidding you farewell is possibly the most difficult of the tasks this evening, even more so than pretending he isn’t completely infatuated with and aroused by you for a whole two hours. When you stand from your seat and walk with him out of the study room, and subsequently, out of the library and into the cold, Jisung faces another of his many dilemmas related to you. He’s not sure if he should offer to walk you back to your dorm, or at the very least halfway there. Perhaps, offering you his jacket would be appropriate, since your skirt wasn’t doing much of a job at keeping you warm.

“You live close by?”

“Yeah! Just a 5 minute walk,” you point your index finger, “In that dorm right over there.”

Jisung nods once, then decides to indulge his impulses. “Here,” he slides his hoodie off with a little less coordination than he would’ve liked, holding it out for you to take, “so you aren’t cold.”

He can’t tell if your cheeks are red from the temperature again or from his gesture, but he hopes it’s the latter. The moment you take his sweater, pretty eyes wide in thanks, he sucks in a breath. It’s much chillier now that the sun is gone, and he fights the urge to chatter his teeth when he offers you a lopsided smile.

“T-thank you,” you tie the sleeves around your waist, covering your lap.

“I’ll see you in class?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you nod, flashing him a final grin before you spin on your heel to head home.

The twenty-minute-walk-fifteen-minute-jog back to his room feels eternal. All of his hair is standing on end, but picking up his pace too much means that the icy wind, which has so graciously decided to blow in his direction, would just become harsher. His palms soak up the little warmth on his stomach, tucked under his t-shirt, as he alternates between speed-walking and jogging. The minutes drag on and on until finally, his building comes into view and he breaks into a run.

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The following morning when he walks into his astronomy class, he follows his usual routine of checking for you in your seat and is almost distraught when he finds it to be empty. It’s not like you to miss a class, and he contemplates reaching for his phone to check-in on you. It isn't until he pans his vision over to his own chair that he spots you. You’re accompanied by Karina and her partner, Heesung, taking up the empty seats beside his own.

On your desk sit two coffee cups like the ones from last night, and he pulls his lip between his teeth to hide the grin that fights to break out.

You look up when you spot him, and Karina and Heesung look up, too.

“Hi…”

“Hi! Jisung, right?” Karina extends her hand out and he takes it, nodding to confirm, “I’m Karina and this is Heesung.” He mumbles another small hello to the boy, who acknowledges him before looking back at his computer.

“Good morning,” you greet as he sits, placing his cup on his desk. “You never told me whether you liked it or not, but I figured you’d grow to like it eventually.”

“I-thanks but,”

“I know: Didn’t have to, but I wanted to. So just say thanks, yeah?”

There’s a familiar burning on his cheeks that always seems to make an appearance when you’re around, but he doesn’t bother masking it this time.

“I wanted to ask you if you would be free to study tonight?”

Instantly, he bobs his head up and down, and you book the study room on your computer just moments before Professor Hwang strides inside the classroom, her glasses on the tip of her sharp, pointed nose.

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The frat house where the seniors stay is practically next door to Jisung’s dormitory, which is why when Mark, Chenle, and Jeno come banging on his door on Saturday night, he realizes he can’t use walking so far in the cold as an excuse to stay home. He also can’t use studying as an excuse anymore, since Mark had already caught him leaving the dorm a few times throughout the week to go study with you. That, and he ran into Jeno as he was entering the library just the night before.

“You’ve been studying plenty,” they’d say, or “We told you about the party last week, no way you’re not going.”

Anyway—the point is, he’ll have to endure tonight, despite his wishes to stay close to his PC for the chance that you’d want to hop into a game. He’d prefer to spend the night talking with you, but that’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. With a somber look on his face, he shrugs on a jacket and opens the door for his friends, who practically drag him outside.

Jeno slings his arm over the taller boy’s shoulders as if to prevent him from fleeing, and the four of them climb down the stairs and onto the path toward the frat. If Jisung strains his ears, he can already pick up on the sounds of the party, even from here.

“You think Chaewon will be there?” Mark asks no one in particular, but the boys all respond simultaneously with groans of distaste.

“You dated her three semesters ago, why do you care?” Chenle starts, “isn’t she seeing Jungwoo now, anyway?”

“That’s exactly why I care,” Mark grumbles, foot kicking a rock along the pavement. “He’s one of the RAs. If he’s there—”

“He’s always there,” Chenle interjects, earning a glare.

“—then she’ll be there, too.”

“So, what happened with… what’s her name, Minjeong? Why don’t you hang out with her?”

“Nah,” He turns to Jeno, “She’s sweet and all, but I found out from Giselle that her and Chaewon are friends, so,”

There’s a chorus of understanding, albeit a bit pitiful, “aah’s” and “oh’s” as the building comes into view. A few people are gathered at and around the entrance while others litter the parking lot with phones and solo cups in their hands as they wait for friends. Among them, and Jisung has to do a double take to make sure, he spots Karina, who waves someone down from the direction of the main courtyard. For a moment, he thinks it might be you who appears from between the treeline, but it’s Heesung who jogs over to meet her and he realizes how silly his thought was in the first place.

In the months he’s known you, you’ve never once brought up a party. In retrospect, you don’t seem like the type to like partying at all. He can picture you clearly now, tearing through textbooks or novels for your literature class, or maybe even typing away to him on Discord and asking if he was online.

He isn’t and can’t be tonight, and he’s very sorry about that, for the record.

Maneuvering through the crowd of tipsy college students isn’t too difficult,and neither is their entry. The door is propped open, and Jaehyun, with his signature snapback that he wears backwards on his dark hair, calls them over from the drink bar.

“First problem I see here,” he starts, “is that none of you have a cup in your hand.”

“We’ve barely made it through the door, man,” Mark laughs, clapping up Jaehyun and moving aside so he can greet the rest of the guys.

“That’s no excuse, you should be sipping on something by now.” He waves his arm, “Take a look around, boys! This is what life is gonna look like for you guys next year—and the year after for you, Jisung.”

Jisung gives a curt, disinterested nod amidst being handed some fruity, fizzy, white claw resemblant that probably wouldn’t taste much different from an Alka-Seltzer. He cracks it open upon being prompted to by Jaehyun, who initiates a “cheers” between the friend group. The moment the alcohol touches his tongue, Jisung grimaces, taking a few long chugs in hopes that the effect will kick in quicker and make the long night that awaits him a little less long.

“Do you know if Chaewon is here?”

Wordlessly, Jaehyun fixes his cap and points a single finger toward the couch, where Chaewon sits besides Jungwoo, leaning in to hear him over the music and giggling at whatever he says in her ear. The boys look over at the couple, then quickly glance back at Mark, whose face falls despite the fact that he knew to expect this.

“Tough,” Jeno gives him a pat on the shoulder, “Hope you have better luck the rest of the night. I’ve gotta bounce,”

“Yo, what do you mean bounce?”

He gestures toward a girl standing near the beer pong table, who looks slightly familiar to Jisung, though he can’t quite put his finger on it, and smirks, “She smiled at me the moment we walked in. I’ll see you later, but I honestly hope I don’t.”

The realization that his friends, in search of their hook-ups for the night, would eventually be abandoning him one-by-one kicks in just then, inviting Jisung to down the rest of his bubbly drink in one go.

Mark rolls his eyes, “You ever notice Jeno is always the first one to get a girl?” His comment earns a few hums of agreement.

“I’m gonna go find Jaemin,” with his phone clutched in his hand, Chenle turns towards the door, “he just texted me he’s outside with Sullyoon and her friend.”

“Wait, Jaemin is—he’s setting you up and not me?” Chenle only shrugs at Mark’s question, replying with a blunt and concise “yeah.”

“I’m not a dog like Jeno though, so I’ll definitely see you guys later.”

As if noticing he was facing the same unfortunate fate as Jisung, Mark turns to the youngest boy with a fearful look in his eyes. Jisung only shakes his head and takes a quick look around, “I’m not planning on hooking up with anyone here, so…” At this, the boy sighs in relief, handing Jisung another drink in solidarity. The two lean against the counter as Jaehyun looks between them, snorting.

“Mark, there’s so many girls here.”

“I know, but—”

“But Chaewon.”

Mark nods, echoing Jaehyun in a quiet, maybe even embarrassed voice, “But Chaewon…”

“Don’t worry, I get it,” he adds sympathetically, “I’m caught up on my ex, too.”

“Uh…” there’s a pause. “Which one?” This comment lands Mark a shove, playful, for the most part. He rubs his shoulder and hisses while Jaehyun, on the other hand, sloshes around the little liquid left in his cup and grabs the closest bottle of alcohol to him, along with whichever random mixer he finds first.

“The only one that really mattered.” He tilts his newly filled red cup back to drink from it, but his eyes peek over the rim and he pulls it from his lips to sigh out, “Speak of the devil and she doth come,” he raises his brows and announces, “there she is now.”

Following his line of sight, Jisung trails his vision toward the front entrance and at once, the sight makes each and every one of his limbs seize up. There’s a twisting and turning in his stomach that almost invites the seltzer he chugged to make a reappearance, and he’s pretty sure the color has drained from his face as he watches you walk inside the frat house behind Karina and Heesung.

So many things go through his mind in such a short amount of time that he fears he may have had some sort of out-of-body experience or hallucination episode; it wasn't really you he was seeing, it couldn’t be. The way your skirt clings to your hips makes him grip his cup tighter within his sweating palm, and the lacy, corset top you’ve decided to wear, which shows off a tasteful bit of cleavage, causes him to swallow down the saliva that had pooled on his tongue.

It was a more provocative outfit than he’d even seen you wear, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Jaehyun opened his mouth to speak, he’s sure he would’ve instantly become bricked up.

“And of course she’s wearing that shirt…” Jaehyun fixes his cap for the second time tonight and straightens out his shirt, “Alright, wish me luck.”

It’s not like Jisung would have interjected anyway, he didn’t really have the grounds to, but he couldn’t even entertain the thought before Jaehyun headed in your direction with decisive confidence. Part of him hopes he was referring to someone else as his ex, perhaps even Karina, since there isn’t another girl in your immediate vicinity besides her, but his bit of hope is crushed as he spots Heesung’s hand intertwined in hers. Surely, Jaehyun wouldn’t be coming up to her if she showed up with someone to his party. It leaves him to reach his regretful conclusion just as his friend and you make eye contact, recognition flashing across your features, along with something else.

Unable to torture himself further by watching your exchange, Jisung tears his eyes away and grabs another drink to make this very, very long night ahead of him somewhat bearable. He turns to Mark, who he didn’t even realize had been talking this whole time, but the loud music and the cloudiness in his mind muffle out his speech.

“—I mean this just sucks! I guess we still have each other, maybe we can find some girls who—”

When did you even date Jaehyun? You hadn’t mentioned him once in the months he had known you. And also, why did you date Jaehyun? Not that there was anything wrong with him, other than his habit of cycling through girls every semester. Mark’s “Which one?” comment had some truth to it, but he would have never expected you to have been on Jaehyun’s roster. It takes him a second to remember that Jaehyun is still his friend, but even then, he can’t fight the bitterness that settles in his bones. What did he mean when he said that you were the only one that mattered? How significant was your relationship with him? There’s too many questions circling his mind, and it isn’t until he downs the fifth drink that they start to blur.

Currently, he’s passing the time conversing with Mark and following him around the party, but more importantly, avoiding you in fear he’ll steal a glance and you’ll be locking lips with your ex. He spots Jaehyun by the bathroom a bit into the night, but thankfully, you aren’t near him. It’s in the middle of a beer pong game with Mark when he dares to glance around in search of you.

First, he spots Karina and Heesung, making out on the couch where Chaewon and Jungwoo once sat. You aren’t near them. Then he spots Jaemin and Chenle dancing with the girls they had met up with, but you aren’t dancing, either.

He’s relieved to find you aren’t with Jaehyun when he spots him, finding instead that his friend is flirting it up with a different girl who is certainly not you. The sight completely pisses him off, and somehow makes him feel immense relief simultaneously. Right around this time, he decides he’s had more than enough of the party. You aren’t here anymore, and Jaehyun’s face is making him fucking sick. Mark is slurring his speech enough that he wouldn’t notice if Jisung just slipped, so he does just that, though he does make sure to mention to Chenle that he’s leaving on his way out so he can keep an eye on Mark.

Outside, the cold is unbearable. The previously crowded lot is empty for the most part, except for a few people puffing clouds of smoke into the air by a bench. Not even the alcohol in his system is enough to warm him up, so he can’t even imagine how a joint could be worth sitting outside for.

The only other person sitting outside is squatted down by the curb with their knees curled up to their chest. As the autumn leaves crack under Jisung’s feet, they turn their head around.

“I told you I don’t wanna—Jisung?”

Your big eyes widen in his direction, and you shoot up from the ground. Jisung’s brow lowers in concern and he notices the only thing you have to cover up is a flimsy cardigan. You and your damn, flimsy cardigans.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Sorry for snapping I—sorry,” you shiver involuntarily as a gust of wind blows through, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I thought you were someone else.”

There isn't a sliver of hesitation before Jisung shrugs off his leather jacket and begins to wrap it around you, grumbling, “Are you crazy? You must be freezing,”

“I’m fine—“

“This should help,”

“But- Jisung, how many of your jackets am I gonna take—”

“As many as you need to.” Your lack of a response makes him look back up to meet your eyes, round and much warmer than the rest of you was right now. He clears his throat, guiding your sleeves into the arms of the jacket as he jokes, “or until you bring your own.”

You smile, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as the warmth engulfs you, along with the smell of him and some cheap cologne only a college student would buy. He’s tugging the collar closer to cover up your exposed neck and chest, eyes flickering down at your bare skin despite being well aware that you’re looking. Where this newfound boldness came from tonight, he doesn’t know. What he does know is that his boldness is always rather short-lived when it comes to you, and tends to appear and disappear like random spurts of energy—he’ll take advantage of it this once. Especially now that he knows you’re Jaehyun’s ex and the most he might even get to do is gawk at you, he intends to make it worth it.

“You must be freezing now, though,” you start, “should we go somewhere warm?”

“How about the library?”

You laugh, looking at him in disbelief, “The library isn’t open at this time, much less on the weekend,” “Right…”

“Wanna go to mine?” Your suggestion makes his breath hitch for a second, but he manages to respond with decent clarity.

“You live by the library, though. That’s like a half-hour walk. I don’t think you’ll make it that far without turning into an icicle,”

“Well, I don’t really wanna go back inside…” he knows why, so he offers something else.

“My dorm is five minutes away. We could go there if you want, b-but if you’d rather go somewhere else—”

“Okay,” you nod eagerly, “let’s go.”

As Jisung leads the way, speed-walking to beat the chill that spreads through his newly uncovered limbs, he turns his face to you, watching as you tuck the lower half of your face into his coat.

“I don’t know if you want to work on the project or—”

“God no,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “I’m not that much of a buzzkill, dude.” You jog a little to catch up to his longer strides, “Besides, I have like three shots of Pink Whitney in me,”

“Foul.”

“I know. Can’t think about a project right now,”

“I’ve had a bit to drink, too.” he admits.

“I can tell. You’re stumbling.”

He snaps his head around, down to his feet, then back to you. “What? Am I?”

There’s a small, stupid smile on your face as you shake your head. “No.”

He can’t pinpoint why this banter with you is so easy, why it feels so right. Or perhaps, he can, but regardless, his heart leaps in his chest as he scoffs, not fighting the shit-eating grin that spreads on his frosted cheeks.

"It’s that building right over there,” he points.

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was close,”

The two of you climb the stairs and he opens the main door for you, watching you sigh out in bliss as you step into the warmth of the hall. You bounce around in a cute way that once more tugs at his heart-strings, still looking all puffed up and adorable in his jacket that entirely engulfs your frame. He leads you up another flight of stairs and onto the floor his room is at, and once the two of you stop in front of his door, he pats his jean pockets.

“Oh my uh- my keys are in the pocket of the jacket.”

You mimic his recent action, patting around until you find his keys, holding them out for him to take.

Somewhat awkwardly, he fumbles with them until he manages to fit it into the lock, opening the door with one hand. He gestures for you to enter his room with a small shrug, “Make yourself at home.”

As you step inside, Jisung makes it a point to quietly thank whatever higher power compelled him to make his bed this afternoon. The rest of his room wasn’t perfectly organized by any means, but at the very least, his bed, which you now sat at the foot of with your legs bouncing, was neatly made.

“You have your own room?” You mutter in surprise as you look around the small space and notice the lack of a second bed. The tall boy beside you just shrugs again, toeing off his shoes in the corner as he pulls the door closed.

“Yeah, uh… I’m one of the RAs for the sophomore class.”

“Wow,” you sigh, “I wish! I mean, I love sharing a room with Karina, but it’s nice to have space for myself sometimes.”

“That’s why you’re always at the library?”

You nod, sliding your palms across his duvet, “It’s nice and quiet,” your fingers move to grip and release the material, and he blinks harshly to erase the sight of that from his mind before it causes him to spiral. It didn’t prove to be very useful, though, because your still-exposed thighs move and press together, just as they did at the library, and his dick gives a little twitch in response.

“I’ll get you some clothes to change into, that way you’re more comfortable.” he decides, more for his sake than yours. You don’t answer, continuing to look around, taking in the details of his computer that flashes in a bunch of different colors.

“You know I gave up extra storage in my bedside table to be able to keep my PC? I let Karina take it to her side of the room so I’d have space for my setup.”

Rummaging through his drawers, he pipes up, “you game?” as if it wasn’t something he already knew about you.

“I love it. I stayed here for most of the summer just because I had my computer here.”

Jisung picks out a pair of sweats for you and one for himself, along with a t-shirt he knows he recently washed, then he turns, handing it over to you. “I’ll change in the bathroom down the hall and then wait outside. You can crack the door open when you’re done,”

“Thank you, Jisung.”

There’s a gentle sincerity in your tone that makes him wanna say “anything for you,” but he settles for pursing his lips instead, leaving to let you change before he can embarrass himself with any baseless comment you wouldn’t really get. The effect of the drinks still hadn’t completely faded, and he fears he’s capable of saying just about any of his stupid thoughts out loud right about now.

You weren’t completely sober either, not by any means. The trashy vodka your ex offered you in an attempt to reconcile was as bitter as the end of your relationship with him, and it was flowing through your veins and giving you that light-headed buzz. You stand up and slip off your boots and Jisung’s jacket, along with your skirt. Your top requires a bit more precision, the lace getting twisted and tangled in your uncoordinated fingers. There’s little huffs and puffs of frustration that leave your lips during your struggle, and you’d almost consider asking for help if it wasn’t completely inappropriate.

Finally, though, you manage to get it off and slip on the change of clothes Jisung has so graciously provided. They’re warm and they smell good, and they’re much more comfortable than your outfit which is now folded on Jisung’s gaming chair, alongside your purse.

When you look up in admiration of his impressive keyboard, which looks to be custom made, and your eyes trail up to his monitor, you notice something on the corner of the screen. The mindless doodle you had drawn beside your phone number that day in class had been very carefully cut out and stuck onto his screen with tape.

“You okay?”

His voice calls from outside, quietly as if not to disturb you even though it’s you who is occupying his room.

“Yeah, I’m almost done!”

“I thought that she was gonna assign them on Friday?”

Sung had asked you that on call, in regards to the constellation project you mentioned you wanted to start working on. Not Jisung, Sung. Sung, who is not in your astronomy class and would have had no way of knowing when or even what your professor would be assigning.

“You’re Ji-sun, right?”

“—Sung.”

The nickname sounded very right coming from his lips, from his voice. You never gave his nickname too much thought, because truly, Sung could just be a display name. And if it is his real name, it could stand for anything: Sungmin, Sungwoo, Daesung, Ilsung, Jaesung… Jisung.

And then, you recall the time you spoke on the phone—specifically, the time you had to do a double take at your screen to make sure you hadn’t actually called Sung. It was the first time you had spoken to Jisung on the phone, and it’s the only way you had even spoken to Sung… something about it seemed so, so strangely familiar.

Could it be…

“Alright, I’m done!” Your announcement comes after the realization that he’s been waiting outside for a few minutes already.

“Coming in…” He warns, eyes still cast to the ground in case you weren’t decent. They slowly make their way up, and something flashes across his features at the sight of you. You try to ignore it, still preoccupied by your growing suspicions. His computer is on… meaning…

“Let me let Karina know I left… I kinda just walked out on her.”

Jisung nods and takes a cautious seat on his bed a few feet away from you.

As you open the discord app on your phone, you scroll to the top to find his contact and type out a simple Hi, clicking send with your heart beating faster than usual. It’s an impulsive act, but you can’t help yourself. If there’s even a chance…

Instantly, his screen lights up and through his headphones you hear the familiar chime of the notification coming in.

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!”

If it’s possible, Jisung’s face grows even paler than it already was naturally, and even more gloom than it appeared earlier in the night when he identified you as Jaehyun’s ex. All of his features are alert and in shock, watching as you spin around to face him.

“Sung? Right? That’s you?”

He’s struggling to read your expression, and it’s beyond obvious. The only change in his demeanor is the now tensed up shoulders and the redness that takes over the white on his cheeks.

“I—” Are you mad? Should he apologize?

“Did you know all this time? That it was me, I mean?”

He nods slowly, unable to find the appropriate words to say.

Two things happen just then. First, your hand smacks his arm, hard. “You fucking idiot!” and Second, you topple into his arms, hugging him. Initially, his hands hesitate to wrap around you, hovering above your waist as you squeeze his neck.

“You’re not mad?” He asks shyly. You shake your head against him, then lift off with your hands on his shoulders to take a real good look at his face.

“No! I’m so glad, I thought I was going crazy. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs again, a gesture he seems to do a lot around you.

“Since when did you know it was me?”

“Since I heard you speak on the very first day in class. I recognized your voice.”

Your eyes soften at this small confession, and you look back towards his desk, “So, this is where you were this whole time while we played? This close? A twenty-minute walk away?” You shoot up from the bed and cross the small distance to the desk, swiping an index finger along the surface, then his mouse, then his keyboard, and all of his other equipment. Your eyes are beaming, looking around and familiarizing yourself with his things. All the things you wondered about him are now laid out in front of you, and it’s exhilarating.

“I was so excited when I found out,”

“You should’ve told me,” you repeat, still taking in his pictures and personal items, your profound curiosity surfacing within you.

“I was worried about making a good first impression, you’re…”

“I’m…?” you press, turning to him for a moment.

“You’re really pretty in person.”

In that moment when you turn away to hide your blush, with the words “you’re really cute in person, too” ready to spill from your tongue in a sweet and shy whisper, a small black pile on the corner of his dresser catches your eye.

“What’s that—”

“Oh nothing! It’s just—”

“Is that my cardigan?”

Forget distraught, forget embarrassed, forget every possible synonym for the word humiliation. Not a single one would do what he’s feeling in this moment even a sliver of justice. Jisung is convinced his soul has left his body, that he’s passed on or that the ground has swallowed him whole. In fact, he’d prefer it that way. He has never felt more panic in his life as you quickly approach the cum-stained cardigan that he took from you, that he pleasured himself with countless times, that he still hasn’t washed…

“You dropped it in class, and I-I meant to give it back to you, you know, a-after I washed it, but then—”

As you turn the material over in your hands, taking note of and examining the stains, Jisungs breath completely cuts off. You spin slowly on your heel, facing him. There’s an unreadable expression on your face, and it takes every bit of the little pride he has left to not squeeze his eyes shut.

“Are these—” His voice is no more than a sputtering squeak, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Fuck, you must think—”

“Jisung.”

“I didn’t mean to keep it for so long, or-or at all, really, it’s just—”

“Jisung.” He’s pretty sure you can hear him gulp. “Were you using my cardigan to get off?”

“I-”

“Were you?” You ask sternly.

He sucks in a breath, unable to look at you any longer as the faintest of yeses leaves his pouty lips.

There’s a moment of silence. A terribly long, excruciating moment of silence where Jisung can think of no way to make this up to you. He’s beyond ashamed, palms clasped together and sweating, face red with horror, inside of his cheek clamped tightly between his teeth, the whole nine miles. So much for mulling over how he’d reveal who he was to you, and so much for all the overthinking he did, all the times he planned out exactly what to say to you and how. Now, it’s all coming to an end because of this damned cardigan. He should’ve just washed it and given it back to you after the first time—no, he shouldn’t have used it at all. His mind is filled with thoughts of everything and nothing at the same time, and he’s already beginning to mourn the loss of your friendship when you say the unthinkable:

“Show me.”

*. * ·

taglist: @heartlvrrss @albedoloser @zp00ks @simpforarmihn @toroufriteh @quokkatss @jising-jisang-jisung @camstqr @tangerinehyuck @ma-riiii @minlvrpage @hancafe

there are some users that couldn't be tagged, as tumblr did not recognize their accounts. sorry :((

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jiniret-writings · 9 months

Text

Warm Blankets Pt. 3

Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: Platonic!skz x 9th member!Reader

Warnings: strong language, self-doubt, arguing, feelings of unworthiness (If I missed any warnings, please let me know)

The actions of the members in this story do not represent how they are in real life. This is all fictional and should not be taken seriously.

Pt. 1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3

Earlier That Day

Tensions were high. With comeback so close and so many concerts and events to prepare for, Stray Kids barely had any time to rest. Your days were filled with practices, recordings, and even more practices. Four hours of sleep was your new standard, and even that seemed like a blessing sometimes. That morning was no different. You had woken up at 6am for an early vocal lesson, wanting to do something in your area of comfort before going for your practice with Chan.

You had been given a duo part with the Chan: something you had never done before. It wasn't that you weren't comfortable dancing with Chan. It's just that you never had a solo dance, always preferring to stay in the back for dance breaks. Vocals were your strong suit and you were more than happy being mostly heard and somewhat seen. When you were given the duo part, you were shocked. Seeing your expression, he just smiled at you and patted your head. "You can do it. I know you can," he said. You felt proud that he believed in you enough to give a part like that to you, so you practiced as much as you could, focusing on not just the moves, but making sure they were as perfect as they could be.

For the past few days, you had reached a place where you could be quite proud, but that morning something felt off. You went to your vocal lesson feeling nervous and tense. Your coach noticed and walked you through exercises to expel some of the tension, but you still harbored a feeling of unease. Still, you shook it off and walked to the dance studio. In the end, what mattered was how well you'd be able to dance and follow through on the moves. The choreo this comeback was more intense, but you were also more determined.

The choreo you had with Chan was short, but detailed. And that was where you were having trouble. You weren't a bad dancer, but it didn't come as easily to you as it did for others. It took time for you to really nail some parts. And that day, no one had the patience.

"No, you need to move them together, y/n. Together," Chan stressed, moving his arms and legs together in formation. You huffed in frustration, tired of running this same part over and over. Still, you listened and replicated what Chan did in what you thought was the right way, but he just sighed heavily in frustration, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head.

"I don't get it, okay? Maybe we just stop for today," you groaned, leaning against the wall. Chan just glared at you from where he was sitting on the couch.

"We can't just stop, y/n. You should've had this perfected two days ago."

"Well I don't, and clearly it's not happening now. Maybe if I take a break-"

"We don't HAVE time for breaks!" he yelled, suddenly getting loud. You gawked at him, surprised by the sudden outburst. You clenched your teeth, not wanting to yell back.

"Yes, we do. At least I do. Hyunjin has the practice room reserved after us. I can just ask him to--"

"He has his own practice! He can't babysit-"

"Babysit!?!" You couldn't hold it anymore. You got off your spot on the wall, going to stand closer to Chan. "I am not some CHILD that needs to be watched or whose hand needs to be held!"

"You're sure about that? You can barely extend a leg-"

"I'm trying to--"

"You're not trying hard enough."

"Bullshit! You're just looking for things to criticize about me!" you yelled, having had enough. You were tired and frustrated. You muscles hurt. Your brain hurt, and Chan nitpicking every muscles movement was not helping in any way.

"It's not like I have to look too hard, yeah? You're floundering around!"

"What's THAT supposed to mean?" you asked, taking a deep breathe and closing your eyes, calming yourself.

"YOU-"

"No"

"-IMPOSSIBLE TO-"

"Chan, we are-"

"-AND HOW CAN YOU-"

"THIS ISN'T GETTING US-"

"IF I KNEW YOU'D ACT LIKE THIS, I WOULDN'T HAVE FOUGHT FOR YOU TO BE IN THE GROUP!"

--a breathe--a hand on your arm--and silence

At the Studio with 3RACHA

Thanks to Hyunjin's text, Han and Changbin knew it was a no nonsense type of day. They both arrived at the studio early, having brought some snacks and drinks to get them through. They made sure to bring every essential they would need to make sure they had everything they would need and wouldn't need to take unnecessary pauses for anything. Han even brought heat packs and a blanket in case it got too cold.

The studio was tense. Chan was much more quiet during the session, only nodding or shaking his head for the most part. The track was complex. It was a ballad, but there were tons of small audio elements that helped it give off that "mala-taste genre" feel. Still, he wasn't satisfied.

Han and Changbin each took turns messing around with their soundboards and looking through their libraries, adding and taking away elements that were either too much or not enough. They even set up the mic so they could make more practical sounds, hitting couch cushions together or unlacing their shoelaces to get sounds that were unique and possibly get the sound-bites.

Chan was huffing more than usual, and as they separated to write lyrics, Han started texting Changbin:

Han: Channie-hyung sounds like a dragon Changbin: Don't you dare tell him that Han: I know! Just, do you know who he fought with? Changbin: I called Hyunjin and said it was y/n. Han: NO Changbin: Yeah, they're at the cuties dorm now Han: I wanna be at the cuties dorm Changbin: Han Jisung Han: yeah yeah I HEAR HIMJDBCJ Han: Nvm, false alarm ;)

When Chan walked into the hallway, he started pacing. Nothing was coming easy to him. Everything sounded wrong, looked wrong, felt wrong. His skin was itching and his hair felt so heavy he wanted to shave it off. He started pulling at his clothes lightly, trying to find a way to release this aching discomfort he felt in his abdomen.

And the fight

He didn't know why or how he could've said those words to you. With every step, he replayed that last moment over in his head: the words leaving his mouth, the way your face morphed to shock, Hyunjin pulling you away, your eyes filled with tears...

He had never seen that look on your face. It was betrayal. Pure, complete betrayal.

He remembers the first time he met you. You had entered the company just the day before, hope shining in your eyes. He had been a trainee for five years at that point. He knew the routine: new trainee's came in with hope, they practiced with all they had, and the with each passing month and each passing evaluation, the hoe drained. Each comment from staff or the teachers or even from the other trainee's left them tired. And in the end it either became too much and they left, or they debuted. And then the trials really began.

But you were a fighter. He met you on your second day at the company and you were filled wit so much excitement. You were in a group vocal lesson and your voice was far from mature. You needed work and the vocal coach did not hold back on their criticisms of you. But instead of letting it get to you, you pushed. You listened to the feedback nestled between their biting words and you implemented it. It had been a while since Chan saw that specific vocal coach nod their head in approval at someone they so brutally tore down only an hour ago.

You could've had a big head. Chan knew when he talked to you that you could have an ego the size Jupiter, but instead he was met with someone so incredibly sweet and such a joy to be around. You two had lunch together that day, and from then on, Chan knew he'd fight for you.

He couldn't have thought that he'd fight you like he did today. Sure, you've had your smaller arguments and your disagreements here and there, but it never got to the point where any of you said anything terribly hurtful. You loved each other, you were family. But the look in your eyes when he said the words that he knew would hurt you the most? His chest squeezed so tight he almost forgot how to breathe.

Chan shook his head, walking back to the studio with a bottle of cold water from the vending machine. He knew he needed to apologize, but he didn't know how. When he walked back in the studio, Han and Changbin looked at him with soft eyes. He could've cried.

He sat down and stared at his laptop. Next to him, Han and Changbin shared a look. They couldn't just sit and let this stew on any longer. Changbin had filled Han in on everything that happened, and they knew the sooner they addressed this, the better for everyone.

"Hyung," Han started, closing his laptop and leaning forward. Chan glanced up at him before looking back at his work.

"Yeah?" he answered, much softer then anyone expected. He was still looking down, but his hands had stilled.

"There's so much pressure on us to do well and there's so many deadlines to meet..." He paused, looking at Changbin, who got the hint.

"You snapped at y/n, and that was a dick move."

Chan's head snapped straight up at that. Changbin took that as a good sign and kept going.

"You need to apologize. And soon," he said, getting straight to the point. Chan just looked at him shocked, unable to get any words out. He knew he had to apologize, but did you even want to see him? Wasn't it too soon? Changbin and Han looked at him expectantly, wanting him to say something. Anything.

"I," he cleared his throat, rubbing a hand along his face. "I want to, but..." he stopped. But what? But they might not want to see me. But they might need some time alone. But they might want to take a break from everything but they might want to leave the group but they might want to disappear. Chan's thoughts fed him every scenario and conversation that might happen.

Finally, he looked down at his hands. "But they're with Hyunjin now, and probably with some others, and they might want time to cool off before seeing me," he said finally. He knew Hyunjin wouldn't leave you alone, so at least he knew you had someone with you.

"You don't have to talk to them now. Just apologize. And let them curse you out, it might make them feel better," Han said, giving Chan a small smile.

"Let them know you're here. And that you're sorry and didn't mean anything you said. You didn't mean it, right?"

"Of course I didn't mean it," Chan said. It was the one thing he was sure of all day. It didn't hit him immediately. But when he was watching you and Hyunjin walk away, it was like the words kept repeating in his head, mocking him.

If I knew you'd act like this, I wouldn't have fought for you to be in the group!

He shook his head, and he felt two hands on his back. Han and Changbin had moved right next to him and were looking at him with understanding and care. I don't deserve them, he thought. He laid his head on the table for a few seconds and took some deep breathes. He deserved to be punched and yelled at and told to go fuck himself, but instead he had two of his members comforting him.

"You can wait until tonight. The others are with y/n/n now. But you should apologize before they go to sleep," Changbin said softly. Chan nodded and smiled at the two. They patting his back and went to go sit down. He'd fix this. He had to.

At The Cuties Dorm

When you fell asleep on Felix's shoulder, he gently stroked your cheek with his finger, wiping away the faint tracks your tears left behind. You nuzzled into his finger and clutched onto his arm tighter. Cute he thought.

Minho and Hyunjin walked back to you all and, seeing your sleeping figure, lowered the volume of the TV and looked at your bedroom door. Looking at Felix, he just nodded and moved aside so Minho could pick you up and move you to your room. Felix went to your shared bathroom and took all of your skincare products to your room, setting on your bedside table.

"Besties don't let each other sleep with makeup on," he said quietly, balancing everything in his arms. It was something you would say whenever you all got back from a late-night schedule. You never let him go to bed with his makeup on. So if he was too tired to take it off, you'd finish your skincare routine before going to Felix and doing his. And so you two had a routine: if one was too tired to take their makeup off, the other would do it for them.

When Minho tried to lay you on your bed, you refused to let him go. Your arms stayed clutched around his neck, and your face nuzzled deeper into his chest.

"Okay," he whispered, crouching down to try and place you on the bed again. "I'll get in with you, okay? But I need to put you down first." He kept his voice low, not wanting to wake you any more than you already were. You groaned lightly but your grip loosened. As soon as you were on the bed, he got in next to you. He put arm around your head and you hummed in contentment.

As soon as Felix set everything down, he turned on the little bedside lamp and got to work, getting rid of any makeup still left. They thought you were still awake but that train of thought was interrupted by a small snore. Minho and Felix looked at each other and laughed quietly.

"Long day," Felix said. Minho nodded, just patting your hair and keeping it out of your face. Minho knew about the hate comments you were getting and how much they were actually bothering you. He walked in on you crying in a practice room and your phone had been open next to you. You put up a strong front in front of everyone, but it hurt.

Ever since, when things got bad, you would hand him your phone. It was a silent message: I need a break, I'll be practicing all day. And he'd just nod, give you a hug, and let you go. This time, a small hug wouldn't do. Comments from random strangers on the internet hurt, but comments from the inside burn.

He looked down at you now, peaceful expression on your face, and sighed. He knew Chan would come to apologize and that it would hurt again, but to heal a burn you have to let it sting first.

Almost like the very thought of him summoned him, the doorbell rang. Minho looked at you again, not wanting to let go. But he gently moved his arm from under your head, gave you a small kiss on your head, and went to the kitchen where he saw Chan standing in front of everyone.

Han and Changbin came with him. Minho couldn't see his face, but the grip Changbin had around Felix's shoulders seemed like he was trying to hold the younger member back. His suspicions were confirmed when he came closer and took one look at his face.

"y/n/n is asleep," Seungmin said, leaning against the counter. He didn't look mad, just tired. In fact, they all did (except Felix who was never able to hide his malice). It had been a long...this pressure had been building for too long.

Chan looked at your bedroom door, left slightly open by Minho. All the determination he had on the walk over had left him. All the anger and stress was gone and replaced with intense regret. "Can I?" he asked, nodding towards the door. Jeongin nodded at him, standing on the other side of Felix and putting a hand on his shoulder. He had dropped the glare but disapproval was coming off of him in waves. Chan understood the feeling.

Walking in, he took one look at you and took in a deep breathe. You were curled up on your side, clutching a pillow to your chest. Your breathing was even and every few seconds you'd let out a little snore that made him laugh. Chan put a hand on your cheek and you immediately nuzzled into it.

He teared up and took another breathe. "You are so talented," he started whispering. "You work so hard and try so hard in everything you do. Without you, we aren't Stray Kids. I am so so sorry I made you think something that wasn't true," he continued whispering, not wanting to wake you up but still wanting to get the words out.

But you were awake, having woken up but the sliver of light let in by the open door. You didn't open your eyes, afraid that you'd lose your courage the moment you looked at the person who was like your big brother.

"It hurt," you said quietly. Chan's voice caught in his throat and the pressure in his chest grew. "I know you were stressed and frustrated but it hurt. A lot."

"I know, y/n/n. I know, and I am so sorry. I never should have let my frustration hurt you like that," Chan choked out. He wanted to hug you but he held back. He leaned down, getting on his knees beside the bed so he could be at eye level with you. Your eyes were still closed but you could feel him looking at you, closer than before.

"I never meant to say it. I swear, fuck, I swear on everything that I am that I didn't mean those words for even a second." Chan was crying now, but he said every word as clear as he could. The thought that you thought of yourself as less-than deserving to be in the group and that you were hurting because of him made him feel like pulling his heart out. "This group wouldn't be compete without you. Every day I see you work I am so proud of the performer and the person you've become. I-" his voice caught again, and the tears came much harder. He turned his head away, wiping relentlessly under his eyes.

A few moments later he felt a hand on his arm. Looking over at you quickly, he saw you. Your eyes were open and tears were coming out at the same speed his was. Your lips were wobbling and when you opened your mouth to speak, the only thing that came out was a choked sob. Chan's own sob mirrored yours.

You jumped out of bed and crouched right next to Chan, hugging him tight. At your touch, Chan cried harder, pulling you close and holding a hand to your head.

"I didn't want to disappoint you but I-"

"There's no 'buts' y/n/n, you could never disappoint me. You did so well today and I was just too in my ass to see that," Chan said, holding you tighter.

"You really were an ass," you sobbed out, crying louder. "But I forgive you just please be patient with me."

"I will. I promise I will. I'll be patient and help you through whatever you need and we'll take breaks. And when it gets frustrating, we'll separate and come back after a few minutes and I promise to never, never, talk to you like that again."

The two of you stayed on the floor, crying and apologizing and making promises that you knew would be kept even when the sun rose.

Together

Felix had a real talent for baking. When the two of you emerged intact and together, they knew all was well. Felix was the first to break, giving you both a hug and punching Chan in the arm, holding back so it wouldn't hurt too much.

"We warmed up the cookies and brownies, and I added some sprinkle hearts on the cake," Felix said, walking back to the kitchen. You smiled, taking Chan's hand and following him.

"There's nothing late night sweets can't heal," Changbin said. Han just nodded along beside him, cheeks stuffed. You smiled, squishing one of his cheeks, unable to resist. He half-heartedly tried to bite your hand, making you laugh louder before sitting down next to him, putting a head on his shoulder. He responded in kind, putting his head on top of yours.

"Hey, is that a rat on the cake?" Han asked, trying to discern the shape Hyunjin drew. The artist in question gasped.

"Excuse you! A RAT?!? My cat is not a rat!"

"If you made Dori look like that I'd punch you," Minho added.

"Hyung!" Hyunjin whined.

You giggled and tried getting up to get some cookies but Han pulled you back. "Nuh-uh, you're not moving anywhere," Han said, putting a cookie to your mouth. You rolled your eyes, but chewed, sitting back contently. Chan put a plate of cake and brownies in front of you, ruffling Han's hair, earning him a bite too.

The next hour was filled with stories from the week, laughing until people started falling off chairs, and good food. When the night started catching up to you, you looked at the time and saw it was 4am. Everyone was laughing at a joke Changbin and Seungmin were telling and you smiled.

My members, you thought again, feeling warm inside.

You went off to your room, laying in your bed, letting the laughs lull you to wonderful dreams, but it wasn't long until suddenly Hyunjin yelled, "Where's y/n!" and suddenly you could hear eight pairs of feet running to your room. They rushed in, looking at you in bed, and you were smiling tiredly.

"I'm sorry, I was just tired," you said softly. Changbin cooed at you, coming over and flopping on top of you. You grunted, feeling squished, but it wasn't too bad.

Until the seven others followed, piling on top of you one by one. You sqeaked, surprised by the sudden added weight of eight guys. Everyone was moving around, trying to find a way to get comfortable until finally, they all settled down. Hums of contentment and happy sighs were heard all around.

Knowing it would be useless to fight it, you just relaxed and closed your eyes. And with your members wrapped around you like a warm blanket sleep and sweet dreams came easy.

Thank you so much to everyone who has read this little series and showed it love. Every comment was so sweet and I am genuinely so thankful for everyone who read this! I hope you liked the finale as well! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. And as always, have a great morning, afternoon, evening, and night!

-Jini

Taglist: @armystay89 @lauraliisa @changbinisabigboy @lusimpss @laylasbunbunny @neyangi @hibs8 @lovelmh @viagiraffe @briqnne @unfwairs @silentreadersthings @strawberry31 @emily505 @beomgyu-stan-present

Divider made by: @cafekitsune

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unabashednightmarepizza · 8 months

Text

𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑀𝑦 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑛 𝐶𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑...

Inspiration: this, this, this, this,

A/N: As per request, and a high demand, this is like a part of the Creator!Reader AU drabble I wrote some time ago! Though there is a mention about a gender in the end, since the Creator/God of Teyvat could change genders/ forms if wanted, I didn't see a problem with that one!

A/N: PLEASE SEND ME SOME NEUVI NEUVI FLUFF REQUESTS ( especially papa ones with melusines) I'M BEGGING! THIS ONE TOOK A HUGE TOLL ON ME LOL AND BECAUSE MY MIND ONLY WORKS FOR ANGST AND LORE THESE DAYS, I NEED A DISTRACTION-

Warnings: THIS SHIT IS LONG, LIKE VERY! Hints, not so much now, of Neuvi Neuvi being the Hydro Dragon and the Sovereign, hints of past abuse and violence but not detailed, reader being a simp in general

Part1

Ever since coming to the nation of justice, and obviusly water, you had never felt such immense comfort and safety at the mostly silent city, with water sounds mixing. After running away from almost all the nations with the exception of Sumeru, Snezhnaya, Natlan and of course Fontaine whose eyes weren't blinded by anything and rather listened to you, sheltered you and gave you friends after being on the wild all on your own...

The calm and safety you felt was weird.

After all, it wasn't you who asked to be the Creator of this game you loved dearly. You were just a simple, non-important human in your world. Going to school and work, study, try to stay alive, make food for yourself, sleep and repeat the cycle...

And suddenly, you were the "Beloved" Creator of all these characters? But they still hunted you down and there were a few who supported you?? And now you were playing with the tiny and adorable melusines by the pond while being married with the one you loved?

You would have said bullshit on Earth but now, as you giggled at the many melusines fighting for your attention while one of the much younger ones laid between your arms with short and warm breaths fanning your neck softly...

Maybe all the trouble you went through was worth it.

"I want to braid Their Grace's hair!"

"You already did it yesterday, and the day before that too!"

You watched as Puca and Serene bickered together, both of them pushing the other away behind you and tugging on your hair rather harshly without realizing from time to time. You already knew that wincing would make things worse, since they were all so fond of you that they hated the idea of inflicting you with any kind of pain and would wail which would later leave you with hundreds of melusines to comfort with an awkward smile.

It had gotten bad especially after the eldest of them told how "bad things" happened to you... but now You had them and their "papa" and were happier than ever!

"Their Grace will have a date with Monsieur Neuvillette~ So, let's stop bickering and make Them even more pretty!" A fierce blush took over your whole face, warming your cheeks cutely as the younger melusines cooed and giggled, holding onto their hands together and jumping up and down excitedly at the fact that their "papa" and "Mama/dad" were going out like the spouses they saw on the streets of Fontaine. You didn't... exactly have a gender, and considering you appeared in different forms for safety to other nations, especially Inazuma and Liyue who had been... rather passionate about killing you, you would often come back to the loving embrace of your husband and daughters tired, completely forgetting about your form which was different than the one they always saw you.

It still made you stiffle laughs whenever you remembered the way the melusines gasped and looked at you and their papa snuggled under a blanket so lovingly like he always did with their mama/dad...

Poor things cried their eyes out because they thought Neuvilette was being unfaithful to you and didn't stop until they truly saw you and ran at you, never leaving your side at all and gave their papa nasty eyes... which made him also cry because he never thought of such thing happening, not when even his eyes wouldn't stray from your glowing body as you slotted your fingers with his, swinging your joined hands proudly while walking around the city with him next to you as he blushed and softly looked at you.

Not when his unbeating heart, after you disappeared, started to beat once again at your fragile form in the courtroom and he put his coat over your shivering form, eyes glossy with gratefulnes as you accepted it with shaky hands and a silent and meek thank you that pierced and squeezed his chest.

Not when he finally found his mate, his true love, though it was the Creator he always held affection for and waited for millenias for you to return back once more to grace him with your light.

No one could deny the obvious feelings between you and the Chief Justice who wouldn't be too far away from you ever since you entered the city and looked at him with fearful eyes, even when you two weren't courting yet alone being married. No one blamed you for your obvious fear, they caught wind of what happened and had a brief idea after all. So, instead, they acted kind to you and offered to tell you about themselves and the city after you begged them (which felt wrong because weren't they supposed to be on their knees for you?) to call you by your name and act normal. Through time, they saw how happier and more expressive you had become at the way they acted with you, often seeing you play with the children or help out Lady Furina with meetings, or just sit with them for a lunch as they talked about the latest gossips or trends...

Such as how the other nations were suffering because of the lack of your presence, and how theirs were flourishing even more as the days passed.

Even the people knew how jealous the other nations and their people were that Fontaine was the city you favoured, that their archon was your friend and the next important person, their Chief Justice, was your spouse. And people of Fontaine was extremely smug and happy about it, happier than they had ever been, at the fact that the Creator wanted to share Their eternity with their Chief Justice, that he was the one who held your affection and love. Neuvilette seemed like he never cared about what people said about him, at least about the Chief Justice part of him. He judged according to the laws, which he soon realized was flawed, and did his reports religiously. To the outside, he was a stern and cold man who could never be tender for another, love them as if he was holding a fragile glass, and wanting to protect his love, their love and smile and everything that made him love that one special person.

Yet, the truth couldn't be further from the truth.

Yes, that unloving and cold part of him was a side he often used to not show how affected he would become after every harsh comment... But only those closest to him, melusines and now you, knew it to be completely fake and that Neuvilette always wanted to do his damn best and even more for his people.

You didn't understand why everyone seemed to make you stay away from him when you first started to wander in the city with him not so behind you. He insisted that he would accompany you (after you begged him to go out for fresh air or else you were about to explode out of boredom and he caved in at your puppy eyes) and introduce the city, knowing very well that the people could be rather instantaneous , rash at the first sight of you and you didn't like sudden moves after the events obviously, so he told you that he would be close enough to intervene if something were to happen and enjoy yourself as much as you can.

But there was one thing he didn't consider that day, one thing you didn't have an idea happening which made you whiplash so suddenly that the melusine you held hands with shrunk and thightened her hand over yours, scared: The obvious distaste of the sweet Melusines, even now, and the man that had been nothing but sweet to you, taking care of you at rough nights and whispered sweet things to you.

Going as far as letting you sleep on the couch in his office after much bickering, him insisting that a divine being such as yourself only deserved silk and the softest of beds Teyvat could offer and you whining out that it was him that you needed as you cuddled up to his long coat with a sweet and sleepy smile.

But you didn't like how people were so against him, so hellbent on making you realize that he wasn't a good choice, that he was made out of cold stone and nothing else.

That he didn't know how to even love.

But...

They didn't know how it was you that he had let himself go, to enjoy the simple side of life.

They didn't know how you would catch him staring at and feeding the otters, which you often affectionately called "mini Neuvi", with the softest and most adorable face he ever had and then flush when you caught him in the middle of his petting session and joined him, crouching down next to him.

They didn't know how his heart pounded at being close to you, witnessing your love and kindness to everything and everyone around you from being close to you and how you often held onto his arm thight as you both strolled around with flushed cheeks, under the teasing eyes of the elders of Fontaine who commented how cute you both looked together and how your eyes shone brighter.

He really wanted to know if it was because of the comments or your happiness for being treated like normal bir he didn't know he would learn it soon...

Or, they didn't know how he wished to wrap his arm around your waist and hold you against himself protectively, as if everyone outside was a life-threatening danger to you.

They didn't know the way he silently loomed close to you but still remained in the shadows, just enough to watch you have fun, and smile wide with his own little one tugging on his lips.

They didn't know that he enjoyed it the most whenever you brought whatever you baked, with one of the melusines behind you walking happily, and brought it to him as a thanks for all he did for you. No one has ever done this much for me, you would say and he had to refrain from taking your chin between his gloved hand and softly wipe that frown away. For you, anything he wanted to say many times but always refrained from doing so but as he gazed at your eyes at the time...

He knew you already knew about what he wanted to say, what he wanted to do as your eyes locked in his amethyst eyes and pink lips, chest to chest and standing so close to each other that your breaths mingled together as you both just... Stared at each other.

And they didn't know how he wanted to kiss you, how much you wanted to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to yourself while messing with his perfectly-done hair... To bask in the happiness only he was able to give you, surrounded by perhaps otters and your sweet "daughters" and just... knowing each other.

They didn't know him like you did.

And they didn't know the sweet melusines like you did either.

And... Well, perhaps, they also didn't know how protective you were of them and the wrath of you was a power to beckon with when challenged.

"Born from Calamity, you say. He brings only devestation and pain to those close to him, you say..." your voice, calm yet still had a hidden threatening tone, was carried by the Wind on your command and towards right into their ears. The group that was talking shit behind your family all stiffened up, knowing that they had the attention of their Creator in the worst way possible.

Little Puca's hand shook between yours, which made your anger skyrocket even more, her eyes scaredly looking around as she shuffled closer to your long clothes and held on for dear life. She knew about the dislike from humans through her older sisters but... she didn't think it was this bad even now after many years.

What had they done wrong, except working hard and waiting for the people's approval?

"Y-Your Grace, w-we didn't mean to-"

"You are telling me that you didn't mean to say my daughters couldn't be trusted because you don't know where they are from, and since my husband loves them so much, in extension, he also couldn't be trusted?" You pushed whatever words this... woman had to say right back into her throat as she shivered from terror at your cold, glimmering eyes that held the universe in them pierced through her harshly and she had nothing else to do except bow in shame and hope to be forgiven...

Wrong move though.

"Do you think of me... perhaps, stupid?" You sneered angrily, stopping in the middle of your sentence in fake thinking with a curious finger tapping your chin as absolute and undeniable horror filled the people.

"N-Never, Your Grace-!"

"Then how dare you lie to my face and talk shit about my family? Who do you think you are?" Your voice rang menacingly all over Fontaine, all the water and even Wind stopping, as those who had been nothing but rude to the melusines cowered in fear and those who always stood on their side smiled proudly. You already heard enough, knew that you had been silent for so long which ended up with your family being hurt far longer than they should have and now, the time was over.

With slow and silent steps, you stood before the woman who lifted her head hopefully to look at your face but soon horror found her at the blank face you gave her with your contrasting soft hands holding her face.

"I have been patient, for you all to realize your mistake and fix it but if this goes on any longer... If I need to inflict fear so that your filthy words wouldn't taint my family... Then so be it."

With your final words, you picked Puca up and craddled her between your arms lovingly, whispering sweet soothing words as you told her how papa must have been worried and that you two had to go and meet with the rest as soon as possible.

As the little melusine rambled about whatever picked her interest that day, the fright from before long forgotten as you listened attentively but soon frowned when you felt the cooling sensation of... water, over your face.

And lo behold, soon after your brief talk, it started to rain softly.

You really hoped that your husband didn't hear the commotion, knowing how much it would hurt his gentle heart to hear the people he swore to protect still treat him and his daughters badly. You knew how... Carole's sacrifice affected him, how he started to not trust people and turn his emotions off because of how painful it was for him.

He was the one who told you this, after another nightmare where he couldn't do anything to protect his family, and sobbed on your chest with his beautiful hair all messy, eyes swollen and red as he begged you to forgive him, still affected by the gruesome sight of your body and his hands covered in large gushes and golden blood. And even then, he was the most beautiful sight you ever laid your eyes on.

But, to your horror, he did hear it.

But cried for an entire different reason.

And not long after, it started to rain... which made you think back to all the times it poured, You stared at the sky with a lovesick smile over your face as you stared at Neuvillette's slightly-shaking back, who thought he hid himself well behind the stone sculpture of yours, already planning to go to his office later to comfort your big baby.

Still thinking back to all the times when your sensitive, lovely and gentle husband who appeared to be cold but was actually the cutest man/dragon alive, cried and made it rain... Feared that he ruined everything once again but you begged to differ.

To you, it was the most beautiful show of his own feelings.

1.He saw a cute otter

"Hello, mini Neuvi! How are you?"

This time of the day was perhaps, the most funny and relaxing one for you. Because, after so much work and paper and also Furina's drama, you really needed to blow off some steam and just enjoy your life. Fontaine was a beautiful nation, but sometimes... You just wished to see other ones from more of a close eye, especially Sumeru.

It has been such a long time that you were starting to forget the beautiful greenery there, and how much you enjoyed hanging out with the others who became your friends quickly.

You definetly didn't miss Cyno's dad-jokes and how the others stared in shock when you snorted at one of them-

But, you were happy with where your life was right now. You were safe, happy, had the cutest animals around you, and then there were the sweet and ever-helpfull melusines who were always at your back and call with pretty much anything and...

There was Neuvillette.

You giddily laughed and put your hair behind your ear shyly, even the mention of the usually composed and calm yet so easily flustered man made your heart burst and dance. You wanted to believe that there was something sparking between you two after the many times you hung out with him, and the many times everyone told you that no, Chief Justice never just "hung out" with people and that this was a first.

Probably what sealed the deal for you, and pretty much everyone, was the way he... very obviously had softened gradually.

It was the subtle way he made sure you were okay, always buying a nicely done bouqet on his way for you and slowly, starting to smile more. People, before you came along, often was scared to talk to him because of his "brooding personality". They thought he was someone hard to talk with, which at first was true. The usually expressionless face he always wore made people stay away, and loose the best kind of companionship they could have had by not trying harder to understand him.

Because, deep down, you saw the longing eyes he gave to the couples in Fontaine or the best friends hanging out together happily. He really wanted to have that too, he just didn't know how and therefore, he was seen as heartless and uncaring for any attachments when it was the most wrong thing he ever could be.

Not that you had any complaints, even if that treatment sometimes saddened you, you were happy that it was you he chose to show that side of him even if it was as a result of... a traumatic experience.

"I brought you, and your whole family the most yummy snacks ever! Made by none other than me!" You shook your head at the thoughts to focus on the cute otters who were swimming where you were simply floating, making excited sounds at seeing both their creator and "mama/dada".

A/N: I just want a horde of melusines and otters in my home, is that too much to ask? 🥲🥹

Giggling at their enthusiasm, you happily followed them around for almost all the afternoon and you couldn't lie, it was the best swimming you ever had, with a worry-free mind and heart.

That was, of course, until you felt a panicked presence close before warm hands (contrasting to the cool water around you) circled your middle and a relieved breath on your ear made goosebumps appear on your skin.

"I was worried, Your Grace... No one has seen you today." Your body relaxed visibly at his rich and soothing voice and slacked back ahainst his chest, his arms thightening around your waist without noticing and inhaling your shampoo deeply with a content smile.

"Oh... Yes, I needed some alone time to myself. I'm sorry if I worried you so much." You sheepishly looked at him while still in his soft embrace and he looked down slightly at your face, crinkled with happiness and then, smiled.

Which, obviously, made your heart stop for a second as you internally gushed at how handsome he was.

"It's okay... I know you can protect yourself. Though I wonder what had taken your attention this much?"

An excited gasp left you when you remembered your children and looked around to see them behind a rock, peeking from the corner to look at you fearfully, unsure if it was safe for them to come out again.

"I came to meet my children! Come on, darlings! He is a friend, you are safe with him!"

Neuvillette widened his eyes at your form who was immediately swarmed with the otters, all clinging onto you as soon as the words left your mouth and he couldn't will his heart to stop pounding his chest at the blissful and motherly smile over your face.

It had been some time that he finally admit his feelings for you, after having a long lecture from Furina and Navia herselves about love, feelings and how a romantic relationship works. They literally forced him to look deeper into his heart and just feel what he feels when he is around you, what he wants to do and wished to happen etc. They already had enough of their favourite ship not sailing yet, Furina just wanted some action and Navia... well, she knew he was a good man now and didn't deserve to be lonely all the time so she was eager to help.

Safe to say, even they were shocked and teary-eyed at how sensitive, sensual and romantic he was when it came to you.

And those feelings only intensified with each passing day, after he was more aware of his body's, the dragon in him's reactions to you and what you did.

And right now, they were purring contently and proudly at watching you interact with your children.

Even the thought of such thing excited him and he had to cough to mask his embrassment when you two... weren't an "item" as Lynette and Lyney used to say while giggling just like any other teenager in Fontaine.

He didn't know what "being an item" meant, this was teenagers after all and their language was weird.

"Come here, mini Neuvi! I know you want this yummy fish snack- Neuvillette, are you okay?"

Well, he definetly didn't expect to hear you call an otter... with his name. He was a mighty dragon, a Sovereign for Celestia's sake, not a small and weak creature!

But as he looked at you swinging the cute otter side to side, pointing at every feature that was very much like him according to you from the blue streaks they had, how they loved swimming, head pats and rolling in the water and how they adored being fed (something he regretted ever telling you about and letting you do it just because he wanted you to do so, that the dragon side of him submitted to you, going as far as letting you pat him and feed him, showing weakness), there was nothing he could do except sigh defeatedly and watch you play with the now horde of them as they all made happy sounds at you.

But really? Did you really have to call the otter between your arms which was cuddling up to you "Mini Neuvi"?

Did you really have to make him blush as he imagined what your supposedly-not-here-yet children might look like as they also cuddled up to your warm embrace, chanting your name?

"Oh My- Neuvillette, there is smoke coming out of you! What the-" your eyes widened at him as you worriedly swam to where he was slightly bent over, hair and hand trying and failing to hide his deep blush and giddy smile as you fussed over him.

Yeah, he had to have better control of his emotions and... bodily reactions from now on.

2. I kissed him under the rain

"As if it wasn't bad already, It's raining again!"

"Ugh, again? There goes my travel plans..."

"I wonder what's wrong with the Hydro Dragon enough to make him cry all the time..."

"This rain is ruining everything-!"

All his life, he listened to and watched people of Fontaine complain about the rain. How it destroyed their shops, how their plans were ruined and how they would surely get sick after this rain... Most of them knew about the Hydro Dragon legend, and as selfish as it might have sounded, he wished people would be at least a little bit worried over him.

Expecting this much wasn't wrong after all, right? He never thought or demanded the people to enjoy rain, he knew it could be a huge hassle to deal with a heavy storm and the mud that came with it.

But never in his eons of life, did he see someone as pecular as you, dancing and laughing under the rain but still held a somewhat thoughtful frown.

"Why are you not running away?"

He blushed at how the question left his mouth so suddenly, turning his head to not look at you as you halted and turned to him with a confused stare but soon grinned like an excited kid.

"Why would I? It's so refreshing and the rain feels nice on my skin!" You couldn't help yourself and jump on a little puddle on the ground and splash water everywhere, gleefully running around as Neuvillette's eyes were trained on you intensely.

He... didn't understand humans most of the times but you? You were another kind of enigma for him as you ran happily and pushed the wet locks of your hair away from your face which usualy irritated most of the women. You were definetly going to get sick, have a runny nose and probably feel fatigued all day... but as you slapped your wet cheeks to make sure all of this was real, and that you were finally here all happy, the sickness that would come after this seemed worthy.

But, Neuvillette had been more silent than you were used to...

Not hearing or seeing any reaction from him, you slowly came to an end in your little game and tilted your head at his expressionless face. "Do you... hate the rain?"

A sudden realization came over at his bashful and solemn face, the downward turn of hisblips and the slight bite he gave to himself. "Oh..."

"Yes..." he muttered under his breath and looked down, eyes brimming with tears and stinging his eyes but hidden by his own wet hair. His face was already flushed from the cold, and perhaps by the sight of your clothes clinging on your body and showing off some of your skin and curves.

Or maybe, the bright yet understanding smile on your face as you tilted your head at him was what made him stop and lift his eyes and stare at you dumbfounded.

And make his own tears pour even harder.

"How can anyone hate the rain?" You asked softly and he knew... He knew you didn't mean just the rain, but himself. He wondered if you were aware of the implication of your words, whether you knew the truth about him or not but frankly enough...

He didn't care.

If it was you who knew, but still didn't say anything, he was fine with his secret out for one more person.

Unaware of his newfound ambition to just "seal the deal" today and finally take the scary yet exciting step into the future, you continued to talk with your hands out in a cupping position, letting the cold rain water collect in the middle of your hands.

"It's a blessing of this world to the people who lives on soil. It is to refresh both us and the soil, the air and the waters so that humans can live. But..." Slowly lowering them down and watching the water run down over your arms, you fiddled with your hands anxiously, contemplating whether it was okay to say what was in your mind since it was a rather sensitive topic for him, with no one else knowing his true identity or name.

You didn't exactly know when you realized it, or whether you knew from the beginning or not but now that you did... Neuvillette wouldn't spend even one more minute alone anymore, you would make sure that he would be happy and loved and would never feel as if he didn't belong anywhere.

But it seemed Neuvillette was very adamant on hearing the rest of your sentence since he took a step towards you and stared down at you with his chest rising up and down rapidly in anticipation, his breath warming your cheeks by both the hotness of it and also the closeness between you two.

"But what?"

You sighed deeply and looked up at the eyes that decorated most of your dreams and daydreams. Confessing feelings have always been hard, it never got easy even if you were in a different world but if you didn't do this... Neuvillette would never do it in fear of making you uncomfortable with himself.

"It saddens me to know that the Hydro Dragon suffers so much, enough to make it flood."

Well, he definetly wasn't expecting this answer.

Out of anything that might have left your lips, what you chose to say amazed him. There was someone worried about him? Well, you weren't necessarily worried about him. After all, you didn't know (and there was no way for it to happen) that he was the Hydro Dragon and also, the one who was sad almost %99 of the time.

He often felt guilty about not being honest to you, when you spoke about most of the things that happened to you or what you used to do in your world before coming here. But the mind was a complicated system, and often showed its ugly side at times like this one.

It screamed at him often that if you were to know the truth, see his true form ... He would see the horror and disgust on your face that usually looked at him so lovingly and softly...

And it would forever break him.

"I think, compared to all the dragons I had ever faced with... He has the most gentle heart ever! But the kindest hearts often suffer the most, I just hope he has someone to care for him." You smiled kindly and knowingly at him with a raise of your brows as you stared at his own wide ones, hoping the usually clueless man would get the meaning behind your words.

And surprisingly enough, he did... He just wasn't sure if he should say something more or not, whether he got the meaning behind right or not.

Surely, you didn't...

"He does... I think he does have someone." He gave a small smile to the slightly parting sky as he looked up and sighed in content. He was glad he had you in his life, after such a long time in solidarity and absolutely no one to understand him. Even when he was just a little hatchling, with seemingly no one to care for him, his tiny heart at that time craved for it as he travelled through this world, all alone...

But never ever imagined to hear those words that left your lips next, as if they were the confirmation he always needed.

"So... Why are you still crying then?" He widened his eyes as he lifted those reddened ones to your face, droplets of salty water still running down his cheeks as amethyst-colored eyes looked at you in wonder, mouth left open in shock in a little "O" shape.

The childish wonder in his eyes made you soften at him as you shuffled closer to him, and even if he was a lot taller than you, he seemed like a fragile and ready-to-cry-at-any-moment little boy as he grasped your hands thightly that was holding his face delicately, scared that this was all his imagination which would perish as soon as he woke up and he would be left staring at his ceiling with empty eyes.

Your heart burst with love at seeing his face, body shivering from anxiety and cold together as he trembled under your touch but still seeked your comfort and warmth. He nudged your palm with a small smile, content and relaxed for the first time since he no longer needed to hide from you. He sighed onto your hands, your finger tips lightly touching his strand of white hair, swiping them away from his forehead as he leant down to your height and leaned his forehead on yours. Closing his eyes tiredly, he leant his body weight on yours but it didn't bother you and neither was it hard for you to hold him up by hugging his waist...

And he purred, placing a wide and teary smile over your face.

He finally trusts me...

"Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry... Even if you look pretty while doing so." You teased him softly ( there was true honesty to your words anyways), with adoration evident on your tone as you almost sung those phrases he sometimes heard children say. Your hands rubbed his back softly, drawing circles as the rain started to lower down and tiny specks of light shone on you both.

You sighed out and buried your face to his neck, cheeks smushing on his shoulder as your arms thightened around him as if to shield him from any more harm.

And, the most joyous thing was... He let you. He squeezed your back with equal force and buried his face to your neck, with his lips tingling painfully just to lay a soft and loving kiss there.

Just as many times you affectionately kissed his forehead with praises spilling from your mouth.

"Just as you promised a lot of times... I'll do everything in my power to make you happy, Neuvillette. That is, if you ha-" your hand was idly patting and going through his locks softly, hand scraping along his scalp as your murmurs hit and was absorbed by his greedy skin as he soaked it all up even in the middle of his shock.

How can you even ask such a question when he was ready to give his life for you?

"Yes..." he was already overwhelmed enough with love, and with each word passing your lips... The reality of the situation you two were in had settled.

Finally... Finally, he had you.

His arms thightened around you, voice shaking as if he was the most afraid he ever had been."Please... Don't leave. I don't know if I can live again without you... now that I had a taste of your love and warmth."

You were shocked to hear such a declaration, so passionate yet calm, just like Neuvillette himself. You slightly parted from him to look at his face, knowing his eyes would never betray his words but he was making it difficult by clinging onto you more.

"Is it-" you started anxiously, fearing that it was because of the connection between the Sovereign and the Creator when a scoff left him, nose scrunched up as if you just said the most weird and offensive thing ever known to a man.

"No, It's because you are Y/N... You are the one I love."

And what else of a reason you would need, when he craddled your face so gently and stroked your chin before slowly diving down and kissing you sweetly under the soft rain as the time stopped for you two, and the nature all around Teyvat blossomed and shone with power?

3. I fainted because he was too cute and handsome, especially when he smiled

"You are so handsome when you smile..."

Now, Neuvillette was used to the way you abruptly threw praises and sweet words at hım throughout the day. Sometimes they were agressive as you squeezed his cheeks together and made hım stare in your eyes while you doted on him.

But this one... This one was new, and he wasn't ready to hear it yet.

At least, fast enough to cover his reactions to save himself from more teasing from you.

"Thank you, my love... Though it couldn't compete with your-" he coughed out as his tail swinged happily behind him, internally cursing himself for deciding to use his hybrid form since you begged him that it would only be the two of you in his office and that you wouldn't let anyone enter without asking first.

And he was a fool in love anyways, who always became weak in the knees whenever you asked for something.

Besides, he couldn't lie: Upholding his human form for so long made him itchy and he was really enjoying as you patted and scratched his tail and scales as his very long tail was wrapped around your waist possessively.

"It's so bright and mesmerizing that it brightened my next eternal life for good...." You were brushing his hair and styling it into a high ponytail just because you thought it would suit him, so focused on your task that you didn't realize how his whole body bibrated because of his content and loud purr...

Which soon made you lean over his left shoulder and stare at his face with a loving and teasing smile.

And there it was, the fierce blush that often coated his handsome face whenever you blurted out your intrusive thoughts...

He blinked several times while looking at you with wide eyes, his heart making flips then stopping and doing it once again which made you snort and lean back on the plush chair you pulled behind his own table...

And soon, very soon, his whole face (and you were sure even his chest) was covered in the reddest red ever known as he stumbled over his own words while slightly trembling.

It was cute... But was it normal for him to tremble?

"Neuvillette? Are you... Did I say something out of-" you slightly raised from the chair while holding the handles and put the brush away, ready to assist him when he suddenly shouted out with an embrassed laugh.

"N-No, not at all! I'm fine, better than I've ever been actually!"

He would never dare to make the same mistake he once did when he reacted to your sweet and definetly distracting words. It was bad enough now that it was becoming harder to control himself...

Maybe, you would be down to the idea of a nightly swimming date?

4. I told him what happened to me and he made the city overflow

"Aaand, that's pretty much it... I already forgave them all but... I think I would never forget it."

Talking about what had happened in all the lives you lived, considering all the religious and cult-like trauma, was something hard to do. Especially since it was still a fresh wound that kept opening again and again at the sight of the Archons in your daily life. They still showed themselves to you from time to time, begging for your forgiveness even though Neuvillette himself almost headbutted with the ex-Geo Archon himself, another fellow dragon who was not as strong as him.

Even though you told them that you put all of that in your past, that you forgave them... They just didn't seem satisfied. They wanted to be closer to you, hang out with you and bask in your warmth as well.

Much like a certain someone, who was deadly serious about not leaving you alone with them for more than a few minutes.

But, could anyone really blame him? You were his treasure, his everything, the one he patiently waited for years without straying from his logic.

His soulmate that he never though he had, or could have. You were kind and loving and generous, and him... awkward about most of the things that concerned human nature, clueless, broken and rough around the edges. He, even now, never actually believed he could make you happy like you deserved while having all these flaws, especially whenever those Archons spoke of all the flaws he had and how he wasn't enough... But as you stared up at him any time he got into one of these moods, held his face and kissed his frown and worries away with little whispers of your love, he knew why he was still alive and had to fight for another day.

He spent lonely years by himself with his heart in agony, listening to it crying for the real home for him... And now that he had it, he learnt all the terrible things they did to You, how they all refused to lend a helping hand to someone in need of it without adding the fact that it was the Creator, and everyone expected him to be fine with it?

Hell no.

He just... couldn't wrap his mind around it. How could they, he thought bitterly as you leaned your head to his shoulder innocently, watching the moon shine outside and reflect the light on both of you. Your hand timidly reached out to his, smaller fingers wrapping around his much bigger ones as if you knew very well the emotional turmoil he was in to comfort him though it was him who was supposed to do that for you.

And it made him even more guilty as he leant his head on your own, as selfish as it seemed to him for seeking such thing from you at your vulnerable state.

How could they almost destroy such a cheerful, happy and kind person? Our Creator?... My love?

You were always the sunshine of wherever you entered, an eye-catching presence in the usually gloomy and calm City of Fontaine. Even when you first came, before seeking refugee and begging Furina to listen to you... You were still kind enough to stop and help a child find her mother, help a lost melusine out ( you later learnt it was Puca, who would grow on you later when she re-approached you with a necklace of sea-shells and offered them to you timidly), and even bring joy to the water in their city so much so that there wasn't a stormy or gloomy day ever. And that was enough for everyone, alongside the golden scars across your arms, that you were their true Creator.

Besides, Neuvillette didn't have to listen to what Furina had to say, the primal dragon in him was already roaring, growling and trashing inside at the other stupid Archons who dared to touch you, to hurt you. How could they, it yelled in his mind often as the loyal dragon it is to the Creator, connected with a deep sense of loyalty and... love. That dragon side of him purred loudly and softly whenever you seeked him amongst a crowd, or simply sitting with him.

The fact that it was him who you felt safe with made both him and the dragon proud and happy, so much so that if he could use his half-hybrid form, which he was already doing it a lot thanks to you, his tail would be flicking back and forth much like a puppy.

He might not be the best with emotions, with them being especially more complicated with humans and all. He might have not understood what pain, heartbreak and even anger meant but there was one thing clear:

Something in his chest broke so wildly, so loudly and stung his heart so harshly at the sight of your tears that the air in his lungs were punched, and made him silently choke on his own tears.

"Never will you ever feel scared, unsafe and unloved, Your Grace... I will make sure of it." He gently craddled your face between his much larger and slightly calloused, naked hands after finally, finally finding his voice back even if it left his lips in a raspy and wavering way with arms squuezing your body thightly. But you didn't mind it, all you could ever need was here anyways...

Except...

"Not that..." he hummed in confusion with a tilt of his head, the blue streaks of his hair tickling your face softly as you giggled and buried yourself deeper to his chest.

"I don't like it when you call me that..."

"Then what would you like me to call you, my love?" You grinned with joy as you bonked your head with his, another affectionate yet cute gesture he learnt you did whenever you were full of excitement and love. Trying to be silent, so that your army of daughters didn't wake up from next doors, you pushed him on the bed you two shared, hand on his sturdy chest as you stared down at his flushed cheeks and flustered eyes at your sudden dominance.

What a sight it was to have the ever stoic Chief Justice, the Hydro Sovereign under your mercy like this, all pretty and yours...

"I like that one better actually. Can you say it again?" You tilted your head cutely with a smile, your sadness from before long forgotten as his eyes softened at you from below you,happy that he was at least able to do that for you. His hand slowly trailed up your waist, to your back and softly craddled your face with his naked hands, hands rubbing your cheeks oh so lovingly as he uttered those sweet names to you slowly, with no rush at all with closed eyes and a loving smile.

"My love..."

"Again..." you breath got caught in your throat as the sudden rush of love and safety overwhelmed you, the man you loved from the beginning uttering and declaring his love to your skin was both too much and not enough.

Not when you unforfunately were deprived of such thing in both worlds.

More, more, I need to hear it more...

"my precious, most beautiful and one and only love..." he slowly pushed himself up on his elbow with the help of his hand on the bed, thightly holding your neck with a promise on his tongue. He was an ancient being with even more ancient thoughts on courting and loving someone. If a dragon loved someone, and devoted themselves to that person once... That was it. No more turning back, no more being lonely, no more suffering. The dragon would make sure their mate was well-fed, safe and happy with them and that no harm would ever come to them ever again, even if the dragon died.

And that dragon side of him was insperable from him after all and therefore, he was eternally yours to have, to be your sworn protector.

Those who treats his family badly would suffer the worst consequence ever...

But for now, he would only kiss your tears away, run his hands across every single scar that told another story and was left unhealed for so long.

I'll fight with everything, move the whole Teyvat upside down and rip through everyone with sharp and protective claws who dared to hurt you and take you away from him.

Not when I had been waiting for you for millenias and just now had you.

"My treasure... You are not alone. You will have me for as long as you want."

He wanted to say everything his heart desired to do but right now, at this vulnerable moment for you as you both laid naked... This was enough.

His arms around you thight was enough.

His deep voice declaring his absolute adoration and devotion to you, bringing you close to tears was enough.

The soft raining outside, making a knowing smile appear on your adorable face smushed to his chest was enough.

Your loving kiss right where his heart was enough.

He and his love was enough.

That is until he learnt in the morning that he accidently made the city overflow deep at night while crying silently to himself for you, thinking you were asleep, but bury himself deep in the sheets while you laughed at hım first thing in the morning and he almost cried tears of frustration at you again.

5. I love him

He gave his true name.

Slowly, very timidly, he brought his hand closer to yours on his face and took a hold of the softness of it with his own glowed hands. This was one of the things he loved to do the most, caressing your hands and rubbing the tips of your finger before kissing every inch of it, showing them the love no one did and could never do.

Not when your heart, skin, body and soul only knew him.

To him, your hands were divine in more than one way. They created life and helped people around, they were what patted the head of the young ones, what helped a little babe who fell on their bum and looked at you with glossy eyes, they were what showed your kindness and love to everyone and everything even after all they did, ever the unworthy ones of such love...

They were what you used to comfort him with your warmth, at long and painful nights as the sky roared with thunders and rain and he was guilt-striken at the thought of people judging him and uttering harsh words to the "Hydro Dragon".

Those were the especially hardest nights for him, marred with the images of you and his "daughters" injured and dying... His mind screaming, torturing with those images and the painful screams, mocking him for not being enough, powerful enough to save those closest to hım as everything drowned him.

Not enough...

You couldn't even save the one you love...

Failure...

Their deaths are on you-

It's okay not to be okay, my love...

But your soft voice, laced with utter devotion and love for him, was always what made it all better as he laid across your chest and hugged you thightly while your hands played with his silky locks. Sometimes, he wondered if you were reading his mind since you always knew when he was down. It was absolutely amazing yet, you were amazing too.

With ot without being the Creator.

Much like the first time he knew his every being now belongt to you, that his heart had fallen for you beyond your title, because you trully loved him for who he was, it fell again and again even more with each passing day.

His heart fell even deeper in love whenever you shyly entered his office to have a hug before dealing with the problems of Teyvat and other realms, saying that his hugs were really relaxing to which he silently teared up, brought him food and ate with hım since he forgot to eat regularly which pissed you off and he would make it up to you by kissing you, whenever you excitedly pointed to a place to have a sudden date with him while strolling in the Fontaine...

And therefore, the last thing he would give to you... would be the sign and show of his utter loyalty and trust.

Himself and his true name, as he proposed to be yours for eternity.

"Will you accept someone like me to be your eternity, Your Grace?"

With happy tears in your eyes as you nodded and jumped on him, which made him fall back on his ass and laugh freely he kissed every part of your body and uttered öne last thank you.

"Thank you for loving me no matter what..."

A soft laugh as you looked up towards the sky which had a soft rain under bright sun, a great show of the feelings Neuvillette was feeling, you kissed him deep once more, much like the first time you kissed.

"Thank you for being you, for letting me love you, my husband... I love you." You nuzzled closer to him with a wide grin as you both laughed while he twirled you happily as the melusines cheered and cried in joy, the waters around you two bursting up towards the sky and creating a feast for eyes with bright colors.

The people cheered in the distance, made new offerings to you and your new husband in happiness and gratitude for being able to witness this day...

But all you needed, all your eyes would see and all your heart would feel was right between your arms... In the form of the Hydro Dragon Sovereign, with pretty amethyst eyes that reflected you and gave you hope when you almost lost it and soft hairs of blue and pearly white that was entangled between your fingers as your lips found his passionately.

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thoughtsforsoob · 4 months

Text

ways he shows he loves you - stray kids

a/n: I want to write more to stray kids so here you go! I know I have a bunch of request at the moment and while I do plan on getting to them, I have to allow myself some freedom to create what I want as well! please enjoy and as always, requests are open and so is my 200 event!! (omg im past 300 now and I am so incredibly grateful! thank you so freaking much!)

bang chan - taking you home

I feel like chan considers taking you home as a huge step in your relationship, since ehe seems to love home so much.

he has a nice connection with his family so for you to go meet them means he's basically already planning the wedding

he likes to take you to places he remembers from when he was little (which are probably not too many places because he was just a little guy when he started training)

he also loves to make plans for you, his mom and his sisters hang out together

"you three go out! im paying for girls day"

he enjoys seeing pictures of his favorite people out, having fun together and getting along

the only thing he doesn't enjoy 100% is the teasing that collectively happens between you and his siblings against him but he doesn't;t mind it in the end because it just means you're comfortable with them and vice versa

and when he watches you and berry meeting for the first time...again...wedding bells are going off in his head

minho - supporting your hobbies

I don't see him as someone who is veery comfortable with just saying I love you all the time so he pressers to show it instead of say it

his way of doing so is by getting interested in your hobbies and most likely participating in them

lets just say you're a big fan of collection photo cards and trading! along with that, you also like to make bracelets for concerts! (lmao so cliche but this is what I can explain best! feel free to insert your own interests during the following!)

he definitely buys you albums all the time and when you don't pull him from a stray kids album, he rolls his eyes and keeps buying more until you pull him

he also loves watching you pack trades so he goes stationary shopping with you and buys you the cutest packing materials

he even packs a few trades for you and sneaks in a bunch of extra stickers and other freebies

he will also partake in bracelet making every time you attend a concert!

he loves sitting at the table, making bracelets with pretty beads (he insists on buying you the fancy glass beads for this project), watching a drama and eating snacks.

just seeing you happy and in your element and being able to support it is how he shows his love.

changbin - planning dates

idk about you guys but I feel like guys always leave it to their girlfriend to plan dates and come up with date ideas all the time

changbin is the exception

he knows all of the spots in the city and wants to take you to all of them eventually

he has a running list in a little journal he purchased when he first met you and started going on dates with you

he writes down the names of places he wants to take you to and crosses them out in highlighter when you eventually go so you can still see what he'd written down

he plans trips that vary anywhere from 2 weeks in LA to a evening picnic by the river

his favorite are "spontaneous dates" (in quotation marks because to him, no date is really spontaneous. he always puts some work into it, even if it's a late night run to the convenience store or a trip to the mall)

he's always navigating and making sure everything is perfect

his favorite part of the date is when you praise him for being so thoughtful and creative

he is so happy that he's impressing you and making you happy

he promises to himself that even when you both are old and grey, he's still going to sweet you off your feet with his amazing date ideas

hyunjin - remembers everything you tell him

(no bc...when people remember details about me I feel so happy)

anyways, he is such a good listener and pays attention to detail

whenever you mention something in passing, he makes a note of it mentally or if he knows he'll forget, he will write is down in his notes app

one example of this is during one exam season

2 weeks ago, you had told him bout your finals schedule and when it would start

on the first day, right at 6am he shows up with your favorite coffee order (or anything else if you don't drink coffee) and your favorite breakfast! along with a care package for the rest of finals!

the care package includes: two hoodies of his, you favorite candies, chips, ramyeon, and a couple other things he knew you'd find useful

he remember you telling him you had to get up at that hour to start getting ready for your 8am calc final

when he shows you, you damn near cry because of his thoughtfulness

he eats breakfast with you and makes sure your fueled up and able to focus on your test so you can ace it

the way he also thinks about you when he's out doing things like shopping

Oh I brought you back some eggs because I remember you said you didn't have anymore. also, this new toner because I noticed yours was running low last time I stayed the night."

jisung - never letting you pay

his love language is essentially paying for everything he can for you

if you deny him and tell him you're going to pay, just the thought of you doing something he is more than willing to do for yo has smoke coming out of his eyes like a cartoon character

oh boy and when you actually beat him and pay, he is red in the face

"sungie, I just paid for two coffee's. why are you all red like that?"

"I could've paid! now you have to let me pay for the next 100 things we get together!"

you roll his eyes at him when he makes these silly compromises with you and just rolls with it

for him, it's not that he thinks you can't pay for yourself because ehe knows you are more than capable

if anything, he's proud that his baby is an independent person and can take care of themselves

the reason he does it because he wants you to save your money and spend it on things for you and he wants to take care of you this being the best way he knows how

oh my god...

god forbid you buy him any gifts

he's all flustered and whining about how you shouldn't "waste your money" on him

after talking with him, he lets you pay sometimes but it's rare

felix - matching jewelry

it's all fun and games until you both get exposed...

before we go there, let's talk about how this started

for your first anniversary, Felix wanted to give you something special but had no ides what it should be

he was scrolling through TikTok one night and he came across a repost from you and it gave him the perfect idea

you reposed a couples post about a necklace with the bf's initial on it and he immediately got one made

you better believe hat we went to a famous custom designer and everything to get this made just the way he knew you'd love it

you gives it to you on your anniversary and to your surprise, not only do you have a "f" on your necklace, he get's a matching necklace with your initial on it...

he can't wear it out much but he always put's it on in private

one day...little sunshine over here has to leave to the airport with the group for an overseas concert and he forgets to take off the damn necklace...

"WHO IS (y/i)?" stays are going wild online and trying to find out who it is

from now on, Felix is more careful but now everyone knows his secret :0

seungmin - bring affectionate in front of others

look, this boy is not very affectionate, much less in front of other people

he's a very 'behind closed doors' type of person

when it comes to you though...he's not afraid to show his affection

the first time you noticed it was when he first invited you to meet his member at the dorm for dinner and movie night

he picked you up and brought you inside

you greet all of the members but right afterwards, he immediately just starts to cling to you

he has a hand on your thigh during dinner and during some shot periods, he's actually straight up holding your hand while eating

the boys look at him like he's finally gone insane and you're looking at him with such a confused expression

finally, jeongin of all people, breaks the silence

"hyung? I know you like (y/n) a lot but you're not letting her eat by holding her hand."

his face goes red because he's been caught and he lets go of your hand, putting a low apology to you

when the movie portion of the night comes around, he insists on your sitting right on his lap but if you decline, he is sitting so close next to you that he's literally going to merge into your body

jeongin - sharing clothing/shopping with you

(cw: I know not everyone feels comfy with the idea of sharing clothes for whatever reason and it's totally valid so I made two different options here!)

as we all know, jeongin loves fashion and anything that has to do with it

it's only natural that he wants to involve you into his hobby!

he wants to dress you up all the time!

sometimes, he'll drag you to his room and start to pick items from his closet to replace what you're already wearing...

you have to glare at him so he won't change your whole outfit

he also loves to take you shopping!

he walks into every store with you and asks your opinion on everything because he knows you're actually the one wearing it so you have to like these items too!

shopping can be a very stressful and traumatic experience for some people (ME!)

he understands if this is the case for you and tries his best to give you all the time you need and not overwhelm you with trying too many things on at once and not showing you 101 options all at once

if you don't like how something fits, he will never pressure you to show him anyway

he also never pressures you to go shopping if you're not in the correct headspace for it

there is always assurance from him that no matter what, he loves the way you look in clothes you both pick together!

he also loves to take ootd pics of you and he lets you take his!

he def never pressures you to do this either if you don't wanna

his soft launch of you is a pick of your latest ootd together but your face has a cute little fox sticker over it :D

#stray kids headcanons #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids headcannon #skz fluff #skz texts #skz #skz imagines #chan x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

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soullumii · 11 months

Text

this is trouble | joel miller x f!reader

part 2

summary: it's been three weeks since joel last fucked you. tonight he finally has the time.

warnings/tags: 18+ smut mdni, filth. was meant to be plotless but sort of has plot now oops. fem!afab!reader, fwb, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, secret fwb, dirty talk, bratty!reader, grumpy!reader, dom!joel, soft!joel as fucking always (i’m a romantic, what can i say?) little bit of feelings oops, some angst at the end oops, pet names, no use of y/n

word count: 4.6k-ish

a/n: couldn’t find a gif of joel stroking that damn guitar so i made one. lowkey hate this but i needed to upload something so here i hope u enjoy

so when you give that look to me,

i better look back carefully cuz this is trouble, yeah this is trouble

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

It’s been a good few weeks since you last fucked Joel.

Since this whole friends with benefits thing started between you.

And tonight you’re kind of set on getting his dick back inside you again. Since, y’know, it’s been so long.

You’ve been craving it for a while, but tonight it’s kind of all encompassing. Kind of been the only thing on your mind since Tommy and Maria invited you out tonight. You and Joel, the latter who for the past three weeks has been busy with god knows what.

You’re kind of pissed at him. Kind of really pissed. And your horny, pent up brain doesn’t help much with keeping your cool.

At least you’re a few drinks in now, which has cooled your temper down some (though has spiked your libido quite a bit). Maria and Tommy are totally not picking up on your bad mood, though, thank god.

You swirl the last few dregs of wine in your glass, hardly listening to what Maria is practically shouting to you from the other side of the booth, since it’s so fucking loud in here. Your mind is caught on Joel standing at the other end of the Tipsy Bison.

You’ve been eyeing the way his hands curl around his glass of whiskey. The way his flannel stretches over his broad chest. The way his mouth moves as he talks to one of the stable hands named Harry.

You remember the feeling of that mouth between your thighs.

Fuck, how much longer is he gonna make you wait? Another damn week?

He looks over at your table, eyes catching yours from across the room. You glare at him, trying to convey the frustration and lust and want you feel.

His lip twitches in a smirk, seemingly having received your message. He pats Harry on the back, and then he’s sauntering back over to you and your little group of friends.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” He slides into his seat next to you in the booth. His scent of pine and sandalwood envelops you, a silent torture in and of itself. “Harold doesn’t know when to stop talkin’.”

Tommy laughs boisterously. When he’s had one too many drinks, he’s impossibly loud. “Man, I remember when he kept me at the greenhouse for an hour talkin’ about some bullshit.”

“He's a good guy. Just likes to talk." Maria glances at the radio perched in the corner, a new song playing through the speakers sprinkled throughout the bar. “Oh I love this song! Let’s go dance!”

Joel looks over at you, and you’re still kind of out of it, eyes fixated on the way the sleeves of his flannel are rolled up above his forearms, showing off the veins that snake across his skin, the muscles that shift with each drum of his fingers on the table top.

You’re not in any condition to dance at the moment, and Joel is certainly aware of it.

“I think we’ll stay here,” he says. “Y’all go enjoy yourselves.”

“Suit yourself.” Maria drags Tommy out to the dance floor, leaving you and Joel at this little booth tucked in the corner all by yourselves.

Alone.

In the dark.

And you’re drunk. Joel, probably on his way there.

This is not going to end well. Or maybe it will. For you, at least. Just…not for any poor suckers who might stumble across whatever is about to take place.

Joel lazes in his seat, casually stretching an arm over the back of the booth, pressing in close to you.

“Howdy,” he says.

“Hi,” you say.

“…You doin’ alright?” There’s a hint of amusement in his voice rather than any real concern, and you know he knows exactly what’s wrong with you.

“I’m fine,” you respond coolly.

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“I’m havin’ some trouble believin’ that, since you’re poutin’ like crazy right now, sweetheart.”

“I am not pouting-“

He laughs, full on fucking laughs at you. “Uh yeah, ya are. You’re actin’ like a lil brat. Givin’ me those goddamn eyes from across the room.”

“Eyes? What eyes?”

His voice dips into something dangerously low, only for you to hear. “The ones practically beggin’ me to eat your pussy. Those ones.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel!” you hiss, turning your head to hide your embarrassment. You drain the rest of your drink and immediately wish you had more. Or some water, at least, to cool down the warmth settling high in your cheeks.

“That’s what you want, ain’t it?”

“I don’t fucking know. Are you actually going to do it? Or are you just gonna leave me high and dry again?”

He sighs heavily, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose and why is he the frustrated one here?

You’ve gone three fucking weeks without his dick in you! After he and you made a deal! You should be mad. Not him!

But maybe…maybe that’s just it. Maybe he isn’t fucking you because he just doesn’t want to anymore. And that, scarily enough, makes your chest ache and your eyes get all teary and wow you are so drunk right now.

“Listen—“ he starts.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep, Joel,” you snap, folding your napkin into little squares to distract yourself from how upset you are.

He pulls back, and you think he might just get up and leave you to stew angrily again. You could afford to throw yourself another pity party. There’s a bunch more napkins on this table that need folding.

He doesn’t leave, though. Instead, his hand settles warm on your thigh. Your fingers stall around the napkin.

“I know I’ve been busy, but I intend to keep my promise this time,” he says softly, his hand squeezing your bare flesh, your sundress already having ridden up your thigh. “Don’t think you’ve been the only one cravin’ this.”

His hand caresses down your inner thigh until his palm is cupping you through your panties, his knuckles brushing over your clothed entrance, and you’re grateful that the booth is angled the way it is, that you’re tucked on the inside, because it makes it a lot harder for anyone to see what he’s doing.

And it makes it a lot easier for you to give into it.

Your legs fall open, providing him more access to where you’re slick and ready for him, your knee pressing into his jean-clad thigh.

“Mm, there we go,” he smirks, stroking you through the fabric, and a tiny whimper escapes you. He leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your ear when he murmurs, “You’re such a drama queen when you’re horny.”

Motherfucker…

Okay, yes. You can be a bit dramatic. But it’s not only your body that’s horny for him…your heart is kind of horny too. Joel is your best friend and to not see or talk to your best friend for three weeks is practically torture, especially when they’ve been giving you the good dicking down that you deserve. You have a right to be dramatic.

You send him a scathing glare but it melts the moment his fingers pull your panties to the side and slip beneath the fabric.

You’re wet as hell. You know it. He knows it. But you’re still mad at him, and kind of drunk, so…

“Don’t you say fucking shit.”

“I wasn’t goin’ to.”

It’s a damn lie. He loves commenting on how wet you get for him. While it’s a bit humiliating for you, it only boosts his ego. Like hell he needs an ego boost, though.

His finger lightly swipes up your folds, and he bites down on his lip to try and hide the arrogant grin on his face at the way you thrust your hips forward needily with a breathy pant, but he’s failing. It’s practically impossible for The Joel Miller not to make things about himself.

“How often did you touch yourself thinkin’ about me while I was gone?”

Case in point.

“Hmm…I don’t think I ever did.”

He circles the pad of his finger around your entrance, and stares you down with dark eyes, looking straight through your core, his voice dipping into something sultry and ragged and downright criminal. “You’re such a damn liar.”

You feel like you might melt into the faux leather booth. Your thighs are already sticking to it, why not just become part of it at this point?

He slowly sinks his finger inside you, his thumb stroking your outer lips as he does so, and you’re boneless against the cushioned back of the booth.

“I’ll be honest for the both of us. Practically came to the thought of you every night,” he mumbles against your ear and lightly bites your earlobe. “Was thinkin’ ‘bout how much I missed you… ‘bout your body… ‘bout this perfect pussy.” He emphasizes each word with a pulse of his thick finger inside you.

You shudder, your body lighting up at the thought of him lying in his bed, his hand closed around his cock as he came with a moan of your name on his lips.

“Why didn’t you just come see me?” You huff, choking on a breath when he crooks his finger inside you, stroking your walls.

“Too much was goin’ on. Maria had me on patrol every morning, then I had guard duty to watch the folks that just left town. I wanted to see you, but I didn’t have enough time. You know I like takin’ my time with you, sweetheart.”

His excuse is valid enough, and he really does like taking his time with you. Content to just plant himself between your legs for hours to coax you through orgasm after orgasm. Or fuck you slow and deep, pulling back just when you’re on the crest to watch you squirm before he builds you up again, over and over until you’re practically screaming at him to let you cum.

Still…he couldn’t have stopped by once to explain his situation?

He slides in another finger, and you vaguely register that the song Maria and Tommy sauntered out to the dance floor to is coming to an end and another is starting in its place. They’ll be back soon.

“We can’t do this here,” you hiss, attempting to pull his hand out from under your panties, but it’s half hearted. You don’t want him to stop.

But he pulls back anyway, “If that’s what you want.”

It’s sweet, it’s considerate.. But he’s a damn jerk, because he knows how long you’ve been waiting for this. He knows you want him to keep going. Especially judging by the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark and hooded, the corner of wicked his lips twisting up…

He just wants you to fucking say it.

“Joel…” you grumble.

“What? You change your mind?”

Your fingers curl around his hand, tugging it down again, pressing it up against your throbbing core. That’s gotta be answer enough.

He’s not having it. “C’mon baby. Use your words…”

You scowl at him, muttering, “Don’t stop.”

“Speak up, sweetheart. Can’t hear ya. It’s loud in here.”

Ughhhh! “Please touch me, Joel. Please don’t stop.”

He smirks. “As you wish.”

Princess Bride reference. Cute. Makes your heart flop a little in your chest.

Joel eases his fingers back inside you agonizingly slow. He strokes the pads of his fingers inside you. A tingle unfurls in your chest, starts in your toes and spreads up your calves, and a low moan tumbles from your lips.

Thankfully, from anyone passing by, it would look like you two are just deep in a private conversation. Joel, pressed against you, leaning in close, and you, shielded from view by his broad shoulders, listening intently to whatever he’s saying.

They just don’t know that he’s breaking you down, brick by brick. That he’s making you leak all over this fucking booth. That it’s pure filth he’s muttering in your ear and not a juicy secret.

“God, you look so pretty takin’ my fingers, like you were made for 'em. Such a good girl."

“Joel, oh my god…”

Your breaths are coming out hotter, heavier, especially when Joel’s fingers slip out only to glide up through your folds to run delicious patterns over your clit.

“Fuck…” You whimper, the heat in your lap pooling thick and abundant. Your hips chase after his fingers, grinding against his hand.

You’re dangerously close.

“That feel good, baby…?” He eggs you on, his voice a rough rumble of thunder against your ear.

It’s embarrassing how quickly, how enthusiastically you’re nodding, and Joel slips his fingers back inside you, his thumb coming down to rub circles on your clit as he fucks his digits up and into you.

The music is loud, but beneath it, you can hear the wet sounds of your pussy as Joel takes you apart, stroke by stroke, a steady metronome.

You grasp onto his forearm desperately, your nails digging into the muscles there with a gasp of his name. “Joel-“

Shit. You’re seriously going to cum in this shitty little moth-eaten booth in the only bar in this entire town. You won’t be able to live it down. But you can’t bring yourself to care–you’re close, on the precipice, and you meet Joel’s dark, dangerous eyes, urging you to cum on his hand with a C’mon baby, you can do it, give it to me and you might, it’s right there it’s—

“…-ere did you learn to do that?”

The unexpected sound of Tommy’s voice has you frantically ripping Joel’s hand out from beneath your dress and scrabbling for a napkin to wipe up the mess on your thighs, on the fucking booth, your orgasm rearing back angrily and setting into a dull buzz in your limbs.

The wicked man beside you scoots himself further under the booth, likely to hide the hard-on he’s sporting. He wipes his hand on his thigh. You think you can hear him grumbling angrily under his breath at the interruption, but you’re not sure, ears instead trained on the sound of your friends getting closer.

You reach for the drink menu, pretending to read it.

“I took dance classes in my free time before the outbreak,” Maria says as the couple closes back in on the booth you and Joel were totally not defiling. She shimmies at the both of you. “You guys really missed out on some of my great moves while you were moping.”

“We weren’t moping,” Joel defends.

“Sure…” Maria drawls.

If she only knew.

“I’m just not really feeling well,” you say.

Maria’s playful grin falls into a look of concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired. Need to go lay down, I think. It’s been a long day.”

“Let me walk you home,” Joel says, grabbing his coat he had slung over the booth and strategically positioning it over his pants when he stands.

“Thanks.”

“Feel better!” Tommy says, and you give him a grateful nod as Joel’s hand settles on the small of your back and he steers you out of the stuffy bar and into the cool summer night.

Katydids sing in the dark as you and Joel stroll down the street to your house tucked at the end of the cul-de-sac. Fireflies light the asphalt. An owl hoots overhead.

“You really feelin' bad?” He asks quietly, once you’ve reached your front porch.

"No. I just wanted to get out of there."

He hums. "Are you still mad at me?"

“I dunno.” Not really. You’re just pissed you were interrupted. Still, he needs to feel some remorse for his radio silence, so you don’t elaborate.

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely as you unlock your door. “Really I am. There’s no excuse. I should’a made the time to at least tell you what was goin’ on. I’m sorry.”

You open your door and pause in the warm light from the foyer. “You can make it up to me by fucking me.”

“As good as that sounds, I wanna make sure you’re okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh. Ugh. Usually Joel’s fine with pushing things to the side. Bottling things up. He does it a lot. You sort of wish he would just drop it right now. You don't want to deal with the weird feeling in your chest that's been here all night. But he’s looking at you, waiting.

"I just thought...Maybe you were done with this. With me."

He frowns. “Hell no. I like what we have. I don’t want it to stop anytime soon." He steps forward, wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in.

"Me too..." You murmur, hands drifting up his back, pressing him in close for a hug. "I'm glad you're safe."

He chuckles. “Course I'm safe. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno," you say into his shoulder. "I just worry about you.”

"Yeah? You worry 'bout me a lot?"

You pinch his stomach playfully. "You're my best friend. Of course I do."

He pulls away a bit, huffs a tiny laugh. But it's not like his usual laughs. It's forced. Quiet. "Right."

You're a little too drunk to ask about it, and still horny enough to want to get things back on track, so you look into his dark eyes, smiling coyly, lip tucked between your teeth as you roll your hips into him. "Now that I forgive you…think you can fuck me now? Cuz it’s been way too fucking long.”

He groans softly, yes ma'am, and presses his lips against yours.

Okay, yes, he’s your friend but you also kind of kiss sometimes.

You tug him inside the house and shut the door, your mouth still latched to his. The moment the door snicks into the frame, he’s got you pressed against it, his hand rucking up your dress to bunch it around your hips while his tongue dips into your mouth.

You swiftly unbutton his flannel, sliding it down his arms. Your hands find his chest, fingernails scraping over his pecs, through his dark chest hair that thins out the further south it goes, but thickens again into a happy trail that disappears below his waistband.

Fuck, he’s so…

His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties, a repeat of earlier, and you break the kiss to drop your head against the door with a thump when his fingers find your clit again.

“Jesus, you’re so wet.”

…And there he goes.

“Three fucking weeks, Joel,” you bite, though the end of his name melts into a moan when his fingers sink inside you again.

“Didn’t know you were keepin’ count.”

“Fuck—“ He quirks a finger. “S-shut up.”

He huffs out an amused chuckle into your cheek, trailing kisses from your jaw down your throat. His teeth sink in, and his mouth suctions over your skin, delivering a beautiful little mark on your flesh that he kisses gently after. It drives you fucking crazy.

“I’ll shut up if you let me taste you,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice vibrating pleasantly through you.

Your pussy pulses around his fingers, your clit honest to god throbbing against his palm, and now he knows you really want him to eat you out, especially when you follow up with an enthusiastic nod.

Joel slips his hand out from beneath your panties to lift you up around his hips and carry you to your bedroom. He plops you on the edge of your mattress and immediately sinks to his knees on the floor, eye level with your cunt.

“God, been thinkin’ about you for weeks. Missed this pussy so goddamn much,” he says, leaning in to kiss your inner thigh.

His lips trail down your leg as he pulls your panties off and stuffs them into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Let’s see how good I did,” he says, pulling your legs apart to get a good look at what a mess he’s made of you. He hums appreciatively at the sight of your glistening folds, licking his lips. That enough has you clenching around nothing, fingers tightening in the bed covers.

“You seein’ what I do to you? No one else can make you this wet, ain’t that right?”

“You’re such an arrogant ass,” you growl.

He just smirks as he lowers himself again between your legs. He puffs a breath of cool air along your slit before listing over to kiss your other inner thigh, grinning when you groan in frustration.

“Joel, please.”

“So impatient.”

“I’ve waited thr—“

“Three weeks, yeah I know.”

He presses forward to lick a hot stripe up your folds with the flat of his tongue, and your hand flies to his hair, anchoring him closer to your pussy.

“S-shit,” you whimper.

He lightly drags a finger along your slit, the slight pressure fucking agonizing.

“Joel.” You sort of want to scream at him. He’s been teasing you all fucking night.

“Alright,” he laughs and allows you to guide his head back down until the bridge of his scarred nose is pressed into your folds and his tongue is prodding at your entrance.

He takes his sweet time unraveling you, alternating between licking into you and sucking your sensitive clit into his mouth. You can’t say much, reduced to wordless cries with each movement of his mouth.

It’s messy, sloppy, but you like it. You like seeing the wetness on his face when he pulls back for air. You like the way his hair is pulled in all different directions, all because of your greedy hands. You like the way he has to push one of his hands down to palm himself in his jeans, just to relieve some of that pressure.

He clearly loves eating you out. And you very much love that he loves it.

But you’re getting kind of desperate. Kind of really want to cum. So…

Your hips begin to grind against his face as he sucks on your clit, and he seems to receive the message because he slides two thick fingers into you and starts to eat you out in earnest, delighting with a low moan when your legs clench around his head, the scruffy hairs of his beard tickling your inner thighs.

“Holy shit, Joel.”

“Mm—“ He moans.

Your foot keeps slipping off the bed, so Joel’s large, warm hand curls around your calves to situate your legs over his shoulders. This new position grants you more leverage to chase after your orgasm with steady rolls of your hips into his hungry mouth.

He sucks your clit as he thrusts his fingers into you at a brutal pace, hitting your g-spot that has you jerking against him with each stroke. His hand plants on your abdomen to hold you down, stilling your desperate movements.

You’re getting close, the pressure building and magnifying as Joel moans against your pussy, the vibrations driving you insane.

“Fuck, Joel—hah-“

“Mm.”

“Jesus, Joel—fuck—oh my—hnhh—”

“Mhm.” He encourages.

It shatters in you, white hot and falling over you, a waterfall of warmth. Your body straightens stiff as a board, back arching off the bed, quivering as you cum against Joel’s mouth, your slick running down his chin and catching in his beard.

You try to push him away, your orgasm overwhelming on its own, but Joel hates it when you do that, wants to make sure you really feel it, so he presses himself back in to lick and guide you through it. Drawing it out.

It has your head falling back, eyes rolling into your skull, mouth dropping open on a satisfied moan.

He only gives you a short amount of time to recover while he pulls his jeans and briefs off. You tug your sundress over your head. And then he’s rising up to meet you again, scooting you back until your head almost brushes the headboard. He sinks his thick cock into you as he presses his lips against yours, muffling your surprised and needy moan.

And then he reaches up, his large hand gripping the headboard as your legs wrap around his waist, and then he’s fucking you in earnest, each snap of his hips sheathing his cock fully inside you in a desperate rhythm.

And all you can do is lay there and take it and fall apart.

“S-shit, baby,” he grunts. “That’s it.”

“Oh God…” You whine.

Your hands scrabble for purchase on his back, your blunt nails scratching up his sun-freckled skin, feeling the muscles bunch and shift as he holds the thumping headboard steady, his knuckles turning white as he grips it. His other hand finds its spot next to your head, holding himself up as he obliterates your pussy.

He prepared you well for him, but you’re still stretched so full, the breaths knocked from your lungs with each thrust of his cock into you. His pelvic bone brushes your clit with the roll of his hips, the uneven pressure dragging you closer and closer to that metaphoric cliff.

And his moans certainly help, too. He’s not quiet, between strings of praises are ragged moans and tiny whimpers. It only turns you on more.

“Fuck, Joel, can’t leave me without this again.”

“Trust me baby,” he groans. “Another damn week and I wouldn’t’ve survived.”

His hand releases the headboard, slides down to tangle in your hair. He tugs your head back, and molds your lips to his. Teeth nipping your bottom lip before his tongue dives into your mouth. You moan appreciatively.

You can hardly breathe, but god it’s perfect. This moment is so fucking perfect. You want to take a picture of it. Frame it on your damn wall.

You’re sure it looks like he’s fucking eating you right now, but you like it. You want him to consume you. Want him to be yours… Want to be his.

Stop. He’s your best friend.

He pulls back to lick a stripe from the corner of your lips along your jaw before sucking marks and kisses down your throat, his hips still thrusting into you steadily. His hand squeezes your breast, rolls your nipple between his index and thumb.

“Oh…oh—“ God…

“You close baby girl?”

“Fuck, ye-yes… Yes need you…”

“N-need me to help you cum?”

He’s losing it. You’re losing it. Fuck please!

“Please, Joel—“

He pulls back enough to watch you, lips pink and puffy and kissed the fuck out. His eyes drift to where he’s thrusting inside you, dick slick with your arousal, sheathing itself inside you with wet, fucking nasty sounds.

“God, you're perfect. So fuckin' perfect...”

His hand drifts down and you tremble, brows screwing together as his thumb fiddles with your clit.

White hot arousal pools in your core, unrelenting. Unstoppable. You feel like a damn metamorphic rock. Becoming something new under all this heat and pressure.

It crests, crashing, filling your insides with hot magma as your mouth drops open on a silent scream, eyes squeezing shut as your pussy clamps down on Joel’s cock repeatedly.

He follows right behind you, painting your insides with thick, hot cum, leaking out of your entrance over his cock and down your ass cheeks.

You hiss when he pulls out, feeling empty. He gathers the cum that leaked out with his thumb and pushes it back into your quivering hole.

“So goddamn pretty…” he murmurs. “Look so pretty with my cum inside you…”

Friends. You’re friends.

So why the hell does this feel like so much more? Why is it that you’re so turned on by him practically claiming you?

You’re still trying to catch your breath when he lays down beside you, brushing your hair out of your sweaty face. “Feel better now? Not so mad anymore?”

“Mhm,” you hum happily.

He leans in, presses his lips against yours softer, slower…meaningfully. You kiss him back, tugging him close. His arm snakes around your waist, tugging you into him. You're pretty sure normal friends with benefits don't do this. But you and Joel have never been normal.

In those long three weeks you had started to worry maybe he'd never come back. It fucking scared you. Now, you're unsure you ever want to let go.

When he pulls back his eyebrows are furrowed, lips drawn in a frown. He looks concerned. "What's wrong?"

"What?"

"You're cryin'..." He wipes your teary eyes with his thumb.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You scramble to wipe your eyes, sniff. Smile at him. Reassure. Act normal. "Oh, no-I'm fine. Just... think I'm still drunk."

"Somethin' going on? You looked like you were gonna cry back at the Bison, too. Did I do somethin'?"

You shake your head, squeeze his arm. "No, of course not. I'm just being weird. Tired, I think.”

"You sure?"

"Mhm.”

"You can tell me anythin’, y'know?"

What? Like I think I'm in love with you? Fat chance.

"I know. Everything's fine."

You’re such a damn liar.

He can see right through you, but he lets it go. "Okay. If you're sure." He leans in to press a kiss to your jaw. Friend. Friend friend friend. "I'd love to stay but I gotta go. Ellie's probably wonderin' where I'm at."

Joel sits up, swings his legs over the edge and stands. Grabs his jeans, pulls them up. His belt buckle jangles as he slides it through the loops.

“I really did miss you, by the way,” he says, looking down at you. “You. Not just the sex.”

His words warm your cool, exposed body. Fuel the burning the realization, I love you. “I missed you, too.”

He turns to leave, and you see the fabric poking out of his back pocket.

"You still have my panties."

He smirks. "Guess you'll hav'ta come over to get them back."

You smile back, blushing. “Looking forward to it.”

He leans down to kiss your head, "Night, angel."

"Night," you say faintly.

Only when your front door slams shut do you allow yourself to give into the fantasies. To imagine what it’d be like to call him yours. To not keep things a secret. To tell people you're together. To be his.

Damnit, you’re in trouble.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #tlou #the last of us #joel miller #game joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #this is trouble

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thewritetofreespeech · 4 months

Text

BG3 - Taking care of sick Reader

prompt: I'm sick. so I wrote this up to help me feel better.

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‘Your head throbs in tandem with your own heartbeat. Pain coursing through your body with every stifled breath you take, as your tight chest struggles to fill with air. It had been a long time since you were sick. You nearly forgot how uncomfortable it was. Without the tadpoles protective qualities shield you anymore, this new wave hit you like a stone wall. You almost wished to have it squirming mass back in your brain just to be over this. Luckily, you were not alone at least.’

Astarion

“There there darling, allow me.” He handed you a small cup of water. Letting you sip from it for a bit before he put it back, and you fall back against the bed. “You still look awful.”

You glare at him; or at much as you could with this pain behind your eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t mean it that way. I just mean…you must still be feeling bad and that is unfortunately for you.”

He sat on the edge of your bed, just looking at you. You can see a bit of concern on his handsome face. You wonder if he’s worried about you or what to do. “I’ve never had to take care of anyone who was sick before. I don’t know what to do.” So, it was the former. “Vampires can’t get sick. So I’ve spent the last few centuries in perfect health, minus a few injuries here & there.” He told you. “Should I…get you a new blanket? Prop your head up? Make soup? I’ve never actually made soup before either, but I’m sure I could be up to the challenge.”

You reach out and take his hand in yours. The cool feel of his skin a welcome reprieve against your warm, clammy one. - Just stay with me.

Astarion smiled. “I can do that.” He curled around to lay in the bed beside you. With no fear of sickness, he had no reason to stay away from you until this past. Your body letting out a sigh as his coolness enveloped you. Feeling some of your heat sap out, even over the covers. “You know, maybe I have a knack for this healing thing.” You let him think that, and curl into Astarion’s body to rest and try to regain your strength back. Sleep is easier this time. Hopefully you’ll be better soon enough.

Ascended!Astarion

Coughing and sputtering, you try to sit up as to not choke on your own spittle. An undignified end for a hero. To vanquish so many enemies and an Elder Brain, only to die by asphyxiating on their own sick.

“Still not feeling well, my treasure?” You look up to see Astarion standing in the doorway. His face neutral as ever, but with just the slightest hint of disdain only you can pick up on at the corner of his mouth. Maybe it’s the smell. Or perhaps because now you are so weak. “I bet you wish you had taken me up on my offer now, hm? This wouldn’t be happening to you if you had just listened to me.”

You watch him as he sauntered over to the side of your bed. Annoyed by his comments. You knew deep down Astarion was still hurt that you turned him down on becoming his spawn. He said such cruel things to you in the moment. Even with all that power, still the boy who lashed out at other. But even with everything he said, he’d never left you. Or more to the point you hadn’t left him, as this was his palace, but he hadn’t pushed you out. Comments and jabs here & there said out of latent anger, but always some excuse quickly on why you couldn’t leave just yet.

“Nothing can be done about it now though. I wouldn’t dream of biting you in this state. Agh…” You felt the shutter was uncalled for. You felt bad enough psychically already. Did you really need to be degraded too? “In any case, I’ve had the servants go and fetch you somethings to aid in your recovery. I wouldn’t know the first thing about mortal illnesses after all but they seem to know the trick.”

– Say nothing to him

Bending down at the waist, Astarion pressed his lips to your forehead. The cool touch soothing to your feverous brow. “Ugh. Salty. I’ll be much happier when you’re back to normal, pet. Anyway, must dash. If you need or want anything, please let the servants know. I’ve instructed them to tend to your every need, and expect no slip ups. I look forward to having a new conversation when you’re…better, my treasure.”

You knew, even as he left, what the conversation was going to be about. Another offer to turn you again. You had only turned him down before because you thought you’d have more time to decide. It was literally a life-changing decision. But, laying here, sick and weak as a kitten, you were beginning to wonder if the change might not be a welcome one, as you fall back asleep.

Gale

“Alright love. Here we are.”

You open your eyes and sit up. A little as a tray was sat across your lap. Bread, fruit slices, a bowl of something steaming, and…a flower, all adorn the tray in front of you, and you arch a brow at Gale. “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to feed you any strange potions or what not. Despite all my magic and study, there seems no cure for the common cold. No, no, this is just good old kitchen ‘magic’. A Dekarios family recipe past down for generations.”

You examine the bowl, but your mind is too clouded to make out anything other than the odd potato here and there. You trust Gale though and take your first bite. It is delicious.

“I’m glad you like it.” Gale told you with a smile. “I must admit, I feel a bit conceded in this moment in being able to help you. I wish I could say it was pure altruism, or concern for your health, but it’s not.”

- What do you mean?

“Well, I’ve never had someone to take care of before.” He told you. “Mystra never needed anything of me but my loyalty. And…my body from time to time. You need me for things though. Not as often as I would like sometimes. Your independence is a marvel still. But for now, I get to help you. Help you on the road to recovery. I hope it is a speedy one but I have to say,” he reached out and took your hand in his own, “I don’t mind taking care of you.”

You suppose his underlying message was sweet, and you weakly squeeze his hand back.

“I’ll leave you to eat and rest then. Should you need anything, anything at all, just ring this bell and I’ll come to help.” A bright, crystal bell appeared in Gale’s hand, which he presented to you before putting it on your tray. “Be well darling.” He gave you a quick kiss before he saw himself out. Checking on you regularly, with or without the bell, to make sure you didn’t need anything.

Wyll

“Still feeling under the weather then?” You look up to see Wyll entering the room. A bowl of something in his hand. “Come on. Sit up. You need to eat this.”

- Continue to lay down.

“Come on…don’t be like that.” Wyll moved to help you up with his free hand. As delicate and gentle as a badger as he hoisted you up. “Here. This will help you well better.”

You examine the bowl, but your mind is too clouded to make out anything other than the odd potato here and there. It smelled of spices though. Rich and full, as well as a red color to it. To humor Wyll, you take a bite.

- It’s spicy!

“Of course it is. That’s how you know it helps. Tri-pepper soup. My grandmother used to make it for me when I was sick as a boy.” You stop gulping the water by your bed and look at Wyll. “Since my mother was gone, she took care of me often when my father was away. The duties of his work, then Flaming Fist, and then again Grand Duke kept him away a lot. So, she stepped in to take care of me. Until she got older, I had to take care of her. ‘til the end.”

You lower your spoon and just watch Wyll. The loss etched on his face like his scars. For someone usually so good natured, you forget how much he had lost in his life.

“But! Her recipes live on. Now, eat your soup to help sweat out the sickness. And you’ll be right as rain tomorrow. I guarantee it.”

You feel a little manipulated into eating the spicy dish. How could you say no to such a fine, dead woman’s recipe? It takes a lot of will, but you eventually gulp it all down. Wyll seemed pleased. He then took your bowl and left you to rest. Your stomach churning with the spicy soup now bubbling in it. Unable to fall back asleep with the torrent raging in your gut.

Shadowheart

A cool towel pressed against your forehead like a soft caress. Gentle and serene.

“I wish there was more I could do for you.” Shadowhearts voice called out behind the dark of your eyes. “My magic is only for curing wounds and battle ailments. Sicknesses well…being a source of comfort was not something that was taught to me.”

You want to tell Shadowheart that she was doing a fine job. But your mouth was dry, and your tongue felt like it was made of iron it was so heavy in your mouth.

“I can’t recall a time I was sick like this in the past. But I do remember once I was poisoned. Part of my training. Warriors of Shar must be immune to all poisons, least we fail our mistress in such an unseemly way. Anyway, it was horrible. I would writhe in pain for hours while I waited for the poisons to pass. Nocturne would come in now & then, with Mother Superior was busy, and dab my head like this. It helped. I hope it helps you all the same.”

- Turn towards Shadowheart and tell her thank you.

“You don’t need to thank me.” Shadowheart replied with a sweet smile. “After everything you’ve done for me. This is the least I can do.”

Shadowheart took the cloth away and stood from the bed. “I’ll let you rest now. I can…find some herbs and salts to maybe help with the pain. Again, this is not my forte. Eliminating pain. But…I can try.”

She rushed out of the room. Set on her task as you continued to lay in bed. Slowly drifting off to sleep for now, now that your skin was not so hot and your mind a little clearer.

Lae'zel

“What are you still doing in bed?” You turn to look at Lae'zel in your doorway. Her frame stoic and strong as ever. “There is much to be done today. We must make hast.”

- I can’t Lae'zel. I’m sick.

“tas'ki! Absurd. You’re much stronger than some istik disease. Get up and get moving. Your body will not heal if you continue to wallow in this manner.”

You try to sit up as Lae'zel commanded, but your head swims the second you get upright. Lae'zel sucked on her teeth. “Nevermind. Clearly you are in no condition to be out of bed today. I am unaccustomed to this, as no true Githyanki would dream of falling ill and be a burden on their crèche. Perhaps rest is what is needed.”

Before you can tell her thank you, Lae'zel went over to the window and opened it. Letting the cool, fresh air in. “But you must leave this window open to purge the sickness out. Wallowing is one thing, but to marinate in such sick? Disgusting.” You glare at her a little. Not appreciating that she was implying that this was all your plan.

“I will leave you to your rest and check on your progress later. I trust your recovery will be swift.” Lae'zel stepped closer to the bed. Still far enough away, but closer than she was. “Get well soon. It pains me to see a warrior like you weakened this way. And someone I am fond of. It crushes my heart. I do not like it.”

Your face turns into one of surprise at Lae'zel’s back as she left the room. Closing the room behind her. You had not expected that from Lae'zel. To show open concern. The room was much colder now, but the crisp air was a welcome expanse in your lungs. You would need to get up to close them later, but perhaps that was Lae'zel’s plan all along.

Karlach

“Hey there soldier. Feeling any better?” You lull your head to the side to stare at Karlach. “Oof. That good eh? Sorry ‘bout that.”

She pulled up a chair by your bed and sat down. Face still in that almost perpetual smile of hers. Optimistic as ever, although a bit more tepid than usual. “But hey, you’ll be fine though. You’re tough! I’d check if you had a fever or something but…you know.” Karlach held up her hand. Still fiery and hot from her infernal engine, even if she was gifted to touch. “I wouldn’t be the best judge on who runs hot.”

The two of you sat there for a bit in quite. But quite was never long with Karlach. “So how do you think you got sick? Too long out in that swamp marsh? Going to sleep with wet hair again? Like, when I get stabbed, I know exactly where it came from. Do you know when you got bit by the sickness bug?”

- I don’t know Karlach. Please let me rest.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I tend to talk a lot when I’m nervous. Guess that doesn’t help. I’m just worried…you know…that this might not be something I can help you fight. Monster, demi-gods, ghouls, I can fight that all day! But this…you have to do it on your own. And I hate sitting by the side lines.”

Karlach stood. Leaning in to give you a brief, warm peck on your cheek. “I’ll let you get some sleep then. But let me know if you want some company. I’m really good at that part.”

The tiefling then left, and the room suddenly felt emptier without her presence. Like a void had just sucked up all the energy without Karlach in it. Still, you fell asleep. Trying to think of interesting dreams that you might share with Karlach when you wake up. You were sure she would enjoy that.

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strawberrynightmare · 8 months

Text

Mikey, Baji & Inupi getting whacked while they're trying to wake you up

Content warning: These take place during/after a sleepover! Tickling, something awful happens in Mikey's fic

Mikey

~Modern problems require modern solutions 🤠

~Late, late in the night, you were playing all kinds of games. Cards, truth or dare, illuminati, board games, video games, fire boy and water girl, you name it. Mikey was reaching the peak of competitiveness and you were not far behind.

~And you would have been long knocked out had it not been for the sugar rush the two of you were on. Needless to say… the two of you were more than a bit hyperactive.

~It was good after two am that a blood-curling crisis made its way into your blissful playtime.

The two of you looked at each other in horror, as if to make sure you were not imagining things. But this dreadful situation went beyond human imagination. After a few minutes of deadly silence, your lover spoke in a quiet, shaky voice.

“We ran out of snacks.”

~Even though the two of you stocked up so well beforehand, it was all gone now. After some good 15 minutes of crying about it, a rock paper scissors match began. Of course, the loser had to go through the hardships of getting their ass up, dressing up, going to the nearest 24/7 convenience store and buying some more food.

~And he lost.

~As he dragged himself through the room, you could swear it looked like he was going to his own execution. He mumbled under his breath but the two of you were so out of it, you didn’t care and he didn’t even know what he was mumbling in the first place.

~He was back pretty soon but still found you passed out on the floor of his room. Your boyfriend didn’t think much about it when he began to gently kick your side.

“Wake up, y/n I’ve got your favourite cookies.” ~Guy who looked and sounded like a zombie

~He knelt down to unpack the two bags of snacks while continuing to nudge you with his hand. And next thing he knew was a kick to his jaw as you shifted from laying on your back to your side.

~He blinked a few times, instinctively touched his chin, sat there for a while, then stood up to turn off the light and fell asleep next to you.

~Via the two of you trying to figure out how he got a bruise on his jaw after you woke up.

Baji

~Aaand he took that personally 🙄

~It was definitely not a great idea to have a sleepover at his house on a Wednesday, but he got a bit impatient. For three whole days, you listened to him complaining about not sleeping well and insisting that the cure would be you sleeping over.

~”What is it? I’m telling you, my mom likes you anyways. And if I sleep well, my grades will be better too!”

You’ve slept well for so many years, and the good grades were never in sight.”

”That’s foul, y/n!”

~In the end you settled for a study sleepover. Instead of messing around, the plan was to study together for some time and then go to sleep at a reasonable hour. Yeah, the plan was all it was.

~You were able to go through two pages of your textbooks before getting utterly distracted and doing whatever the hell you wanted. You ended up sneaking out even before the clock struck midnight and enjoyed the city basked in the night to your heart’s content. It was heavily past 2am when you came back and it was only because it started raining.

~Soon afterwards you fell asleep cuddling into his chest with his arm around your shoulder.

~And he recklessly followed you into the land of dreams without any awareness of what was going to happen in the morning.

~He was woken up by his mother at the usual hour. Mrs. Baji brought you two breakfast straight into his room and as he was half awake, she urged him to wake you up as well. In a half-awake state, he barely began to complain and tell her to wake you up herself before she cut him off with “I tried”.

~In his defence, he thought that shaking your arms lightly and calling out your name would be enough to wake you up. Jokes on him, you didn’t even budge. He tried everything his mother ever used on him, taking away your blanket, rubbing your back, hell, he even tried to wake you up with a kiss - nothing worked.

~He was absentmindedly poking your cheek while trying to come up with something else. All he could think of was a glass of cold water or calling his friends. It was then that he suddenly got smacked in the face with a pillow. The force of the hit was enough to have him rolling out of the bed. His traitor pillow was dropped right next to him. All you did was roll onto your side. Still asleep.

~If his loud ‘HAA????’ didn’t manage to wake you up, you might as well have been dead. Anyways, prepare because he took that as a declaration of war. How does a sleeping person prepare for anything

~He climbed back, pushed you onto your back and began to mercilessly tickle you in all the weak spots he was aware of. He even took a feather out of his pillow and began tickling your feet and that was the final straw, for you to wake up completely disoriented, fall from the bed and instinctively kick your boyfriend off the bed. Both of you ended up on the floor, but Baji didn’t even notice that. He was too busy patting himself on the back and praising his genius for managing to wake you up.

~All while he existed there in a half-conscious state, trying to comprehend the whole situation.

~And then he dragged you to school. You were late because waking you up almost took him a whole hour.

~Surprisingly, he managed to take the test and actually answer enough questions for you to consider him passing it.

~So now he has an excuse to invite you in more often. Although he did learn to only do this on weekends so that you can sleep for as long as you wish, Sleeping y/n is the one person he’s too afraid to face again.

Inupi

~Bro gave up 💀

~It happened during a sleepover. The two of you were on the couch and watching a movie late in the night. He excused himself for a while when he noticed someone koko calling him. The call lasted longer than expected and when he came back, you were already asleep.

~All he wanted was to gently wake you up by rubbing your cheek so that you could move to his bigger and more comfortable bed. Totally not because he wanted to cuddle you. Not at all.

~But then he got smacked with a pillow you were clutching to your chest so hard, the force made him fall backwards and land on his ass. You were still asleep as he sat there, trying to comprehend what just happened.

~He wasn’t even sure whether you were just pretending to sleep to take the sofa or it was really just you reacting to unwanted stimuli.

~He sighed and simply went back to his room to gather the blankets and cushions. Then, he slipped a cushion under your head, gently fixed it into a more comfortable position and wrapped you up in a blanket. After that, he just made some adjustments for himself and sat next to you, leaning his body on yours.

~This fixed the issue the two of you always had. The issue was called ‘Who takes the bed?!’. While he insisted that you should take it, you insisted that it was his bed and you were fine with the couch. But he was also fine with the couch and he couldn’t just- sleep comfortably in his warm bed and make you sleep out there. Sharing the bed felt so intimate that none of you dared to suggest it although i know some of ya simps would jump at the first gotten chance to share a bed with him

~...So the two of you are now sharing a couch, but he swore that the next time, you’re taking the bed even if he has to drag you in there himself.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokrev #sano manjiro x reader #mikey x reader #sano manjiro #mikey #baji keisuke #baji x reader #baji keisuke x reader #baji #inui seishu #inui seishu x reader #inupi x reader #inupi #inupi seishu

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jazzythursday · 1 year

Text

Wylan leaves in the morning.

He doesn’t plan to, not exactly, but he definitely doesn’t plan on staying, either.

Wylan is no stranger to one night stands. He can’t say he gets around very frequently, but enough to know the general plot of how they're supposed to go.

Flirt, drink, fuck, leave. The order isn’t necessarily set in stone, but the list ends the same every time.

He has a good time, for the most part, and it’s always a welcome break from the awful chemical smell burned into the Tannery or the staleness of the empty rooms in cheap boarding houses (when he can afford them) that Wylan is used to. Wylan likes the freedom that comes with it, too. It’s liberating to go where he wants and do what he pleases; to not worry about who he’s seen with or sleeps with or what they might think of him after. And he likes feeling wanted, for a little while. He likes being reminded that he exists.

So Wylan does not make a habit of falling asleep with the people who take him to bed.

He doesn’t even remember falling asleep, really.

He doesn't remember, and yet, Wylan wakes up with his head pillowed on Jesper’s chest. With Jesper’s arm draped over him. His breath is warm where it ghosts over the top of his hair, and if Wylan glances up he can see the way Jesper’s mouth— those lips— fall open in sleep.

It’s the best morning he’s had in months, possibly. Certainly the most comfortable.

He knows it can’t last.

Wylan looks at Jesper, still sleeping peacefully next to him, and he panics.

He’d woken up in Jesper Fahey’s arms.

He’d slept with Jesper Fahey.

Jesper has a reputation, and Wylan knows it, even new to the Barrel as he is. He’d heard about Dirtyhand’s second and resident sharpshooter plenty— Can’t resist a gamble, never misses a shot, and not just with bullets. Jesper Fahey is an excellent marksman, they say, with terrible luck with the cards, and a soft spot for pretty girls and even prettier boys.

Jesper’s played the field— multiple fields— went on a seismic world tour of fields.

Wylan is very good at not being noticed. He’s also very good at listening. People tend to look past him, they never pay any mind to the too skinny boy with the wild hair and the hunched shoulders and the grime that never seems to wash off completely after his long shifts at the Tannery. Wylan knows this, knows he’s very adept at being able to disappear, when he needs to.

So by the time Wylan actually meets Jesper, he’s well aware of his place in Ketterdam’s booming rumor mill. Jesper has many, and Wylan thinks by now he may have heard them all.

And yet, none of them do a thing to prepare him for Jesper.

They’d met in a tavern.

Wylan had been nursing his drink for the better half of an hour, trying to come up with reasons not to go back to the sad cot he had waiting for him in a rented room, with the only window overlooking the brick wall of a dark alley.

So far, he’d only come up with the one.

Wylan had seen the tall Zemeni man from across the room and hadn’t stopped looking since. He was flirting with a girl at the bar, twirling one of his guns in one hand demonstratively with a drink in the other. The girl— a curly haired blond— was giggling, hand pressed to her mouth with eyes that had very clear and direct intentions.

Wylan had almost resolved himself to a night of wasting the few kruge at his disposal with little to show for it, when the man had looked up and caught him staring. The man had smiled, twirling his gun with an extra flourish and then tipped his hat. Wylan smiled back, and gave a little wave. Embarrassing, He’d thought, stop it, he’s already with someone else anyway. He’d looked down, and stared at the near empty contents of his drink until someone sat down next to him and said, in a voice like apple butter and sweet syrup, “Can I get you another of those?”

Then Wylan had looked up into the eyes of the handsomest man he’d ever seen, and thought, he has the most perfect lips.

Out loud, he’d said, “I, uh, well—” His mouth was wide open, he’d realised, and shut it quickly. Again, the man had smiled. Again, Wylan had smiled back. “Yes, please.”

And that's how he’d met Jesper.

Afterwards, they’d stumbled through the streets— I know a place, Jesper said, If you want to take this somewhere more private— until they’d passed a corner where a vendor was selling traditional Kerch sweets out of a cart.

“Stroopwafels!” Jesper had stopped. “I love stroopwafels!”

Wylan was tugging him toward the cart without really making a conscious decision to move, and Jesper had laughed, surprised and delighted.

Wylan bought them both stroopwafels and handed Jesper his with a shy smile and a shrug. “For the drink.”

Jesper looked at him consideringly, head caulked to the side, and Wylan felt himself blushing in the low light of the lamps. “You’re sweet,” he’d said eventually.

“Is that bad?” Wylan had asked, sheepish. Jesper was already shaking his head.

“It’s good. Just not that many sweet things to be had in the Barrel. It’s refreshing.” He’d bit off a piece of one of the waffles and smiled. “These are sweet too,”— he’d leaned in, smile still earnest but with something decidedly different underneath— “I like sweet.”

Jesper had not touched him like he’d been expecting to be touched. Jesper made no assumptions; he’d asked, about everything, in a way that was near gentlemanly if it wasn’t for the fact that he radiated trouble through his pores. Jesper was— not quite gentle, because Wylan had expected hot and heady and everything deep, and Jesper was all of that and more— but he wasn’t rough. He didn’t bruise, not if Wylan didn’t say yes first, and afterwards he’d laid back down and settled Wylan into his arms in a way that he had no real way of protesting— didn’t want to protest, anyway— and kissed him.

It was that that had scared Wylan the most, he thinks. Because Wylan is rarely kissed for the express purpose of it. It was always the promise of more— the rush of what was to come. But people do not generally tend to kiss Wylan for the sake of kissing Wylan. It’s different. Jesper is different, and Wylan can’t afford to be stupid enough to do something like get attached. Can’t afford much at all— really.

But Jesper had kissed him, pleased and lazy and warm, and at some indeterminate time later they had both apparently fallen asleep.

And it was nice.

It was too nice. It hurt with how nice it was.

Wylan peels himself slowly out of Jesper’s arms, careful not to wake him, and decides then that he cannot stand to be here any longer.

Jesper Fahey is not what he’d expected, he’s better.

Jesper Fahey is lovely, and beautiful, and kinder to him than anyone has been to Wylan for almost as long as he can remember.

Jesper Fahey is more than he could have ever hoped for, and he isn’t going to stick around for someone like Wylan.

So Wylan leaves, and he doesn’t look behind him as he closes the door.

#wesper #inspired by the tweet about what kit said about their first meeitng #wesper drabble #wesper ficlet #wesper fanfic #wylan hendriks #wylan van eck #jesper fehey #shadow and bone #six of crows #shadow and bone fanfiction #Jazzy writes #jazzy writes fanfic #a drabble for your troubles?

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 7 months

Note

Hiii!

I love your writing, especially Mirror, Mirror! Are you still taking request? I‘ve been thinking about Ascended Astarion and female Tav/Reader attending a ball for the politicians and nobles of Baldur’s Gate, getting all dressed up and socializing, dancing and Astarion flirting with her all night long. Astarion obviously wouldn’t waste a chance to be alone with Tav/Reader, takes her on a romantic stroll in the gardens and has his wicked way with her somewhere in a dark corner 👀

I can not make Ascnedant Astarion not dark I am SORRY but I can't help myself. The intro to this is sad bad, but honestly it gets pretty fun later down the line. Gotta set up that Stockholm syndrome. You gots it here.

Tw: Murder, Violence, not much but it is there, graphic smut, 18+ sweet dark fluff. I do consider this Stockholm on your end. Very inspired by the in-game quote of locking you away for a decade. Also, never write shit only in tumblr post editor, I lost half of this right before I was going to post last and it almost killed me

Astarion was.... aware that you'd been having a hard time as of late. If anyone could empathize with the complications of being a vampire spawn, it was certainly him. Even though his circumstance were obviously much, much worse than yours ever could be.

He was no Cazador. Astarion was different, he loved you. He knew what was best for you. All that needed to happen now was for you to accept it.

And in your defense, you were trying. It had taken a long time for you to finally come to terms with the full extent of power he had over you as his spawn. He would always know where you were through sensation alone. Always ready and willing to drag you back home if need be. He could compel you to his side at any moment, though he did have a bad habit of going out to find you during your little tantrums. It seemed to work better to put you in your place, especially since he had very little self-control when it came to who you associated with. Many a possible friend had died at his hand, in front of your eyes. A waste, really, one that wouldn't be necessary if you would just listen.

But the demonstrations had been useful. Slowly but surely you were learning that the option of secrets between the two of you had died the second he sunk his fangs into your wrist. He had personally put an official stop to all of your extracurricular activities. The things you used to do in your spare time were silly and dangerous, always going out of your way to help the undeserving. But now he had the control to stop you, to sequester you at the estate where you were safe.

You had nowhere to be besides his side and you were finally starting to understand that. Things were so much easier when you gave in and listened, happier and more fun.

Lately, it had almost felt like another honeymoon phase, with your sudden predilection for extreme loyalty. It helped that he could still see into your mind through the new connection, fully aware that your love remained real and pure, if not a bit melancholic. It was silly really, the guilt you felt towards him for letting him ascend. Never mind the thousands he sacrificed, you were too concerned with how power had chanced him.

It was cute. Stupid, but cute. Because obviously it had changed him for the better. How else would he be where he was now? With his hands already in nearly every major part of Baldur's Gate's governance? He had made wide, sweeping moves to gain control in the past year, banking on your dual hero status to deflect from his more... unsavory attributes. But it was working, and in a few years time this city would belong to him. Then the two of you would be on to the next major conquest. A future that you were just now coming to terms with.

And Astarion wanted to reward you for that acceptance. He had been a bit paranoid of late, paranoid enough to not let you out of the house for a solid fortnight. But for good reason. The last of the Gur had come out of the woodwork recently, looking for revenge for their children and fallen comrades. With a specific interest in you. It had made sense, in a way. You were his greatest weakness after all. So of course he had to take it upon himself to personally hunt the last of them down to tear them limb from limb.

But now they were officially gone, and he was finally feeling comfortable with letting you out into the world again. Just not out of his sight. And tonight was the perfect opportunity. He had a mandatory soirée to attend, populated by neighboring nobles and a few powerful foreigners. One that would be so much more entertaining with you willingly by his side. Or forced, if need be. Depending on if you decided to be in one of your moods, though they were a rarity nowadays.

But no, you turned out to be too excited at the prospect of leaving the house to even attempt being a brat. Astarion watched you with a smile as you appeared at the top of the staircase, dressed to the nines. He whistled as he watched you descend, beyond pleased with how you looked. He met you at the bottom of the landing, easily wrapping an arm around your waist before setting a quick kiss to your temple, "You look beautiful pet. Absolutely stunning."

You truly did. A navy satin gown that matched your skin tone perfectly, fitted with delicate straps and a low bodice. Perhaps the slit in the leg was a little high, revealing too much of your perfect thigh for the rest of the world. But you looked too good for him to complain.

You really were so gorgeous, could he be blamed for wanting to dress you up?

You rolled your eyes, but Astarion didn't miss the tiny smile dancing on your lips, "You're the one who picked it out."

"And you wear it perfectly," Astarion praised, already leading you out the door. He kept you close to his side during the short journey, his eyes darting around your surroundings every few moments. His paranoia had been quelled, but it hadn't completely died out. But he had already made the decision that he was going to be on his best behavior tonight, and that included not indulging in his protective nature. You deserved nothing less.

But that didn't stop Astarion from taking some mental notes on those who stared at you too brazenly when you arrived. Part of him couldn't blame them, not when he could understand your thrall better than any one else. But the other, more fun part of himself was too busy imagining ripping them apart for the audacious, lustful stares.

But he didn't drag the two of you out for strictly fun, a fact that he was quickly reminded of when you were approached by the main host, "Lord Ancunín! I'm so pleased that you could make it."

Astarion vaguely remembered who he was, though he was much more interested in his friends than the man himself. The man turned his attention toward you, brow raised, "And who is this beautiful creature?"

Astarion could feel his brow twitch at the insolence. How dare he not know who you were? The Hero of Baldur's Gate, his consort, the love of his life, how could someone of his breeding be so ignorant? You had to many titles to choose from for introductions, so Astarion decided on the most important, "This is the future Lady Ancunín, my fiancé."

He could feel you tense at his side, staring up at him with wide eyes like what he said was surprising. Which was odd. He had been extremely clear about his intentions since the day he ascended, marriage was the obvious next step for the two of you.

"Well it's lovely to meet you," The noble said with a smile, his attention going straight back to Astarion, "Now if you'll excuse us, I have a few matters to discuss with your future husband."

Astarion was startlingly close to hurting this man. What on earth made him feel as though he had the right to dismiss you? He tightened the arm he had around your waist, sneering at him, "There is nothing that you can say that she won't eventually know. Don't waste our time."

Then he proceeded to do just that, wasting Astarion's time with useless information and worthless attempts at allyships. It seemed to be an unfortunate trend as the night progressed, just reinforcing how utterly useless the gentry could really be. Not to mention their constant passive dismissal of you. He really was going to need to start letting you out more often, though he had to wonder if they were even worthy of your presence. He would have been a bit more forceful regarding his own displeasure at their arrogance if you weren’t so distracting.

It was hard to hold onto his own indignation when you seemed so content. You were leaning into him the whole night, smiling softly through all of his inane conversations. Never failing to be adorably pleased at your introduction. It made Astarion want to fawn over you, alternating between whispering sweet nothings in your ear and sweeping you onto the dance floor. All of your pleased laughs and giggles music to his ears.

He kept you close all evening, never allowing you to wander past his sight. His arm stayed firmly around your waist, never quite shaken off after your first waltz together. But you didn't seem to mind. If anything you were glowing under the attention, happy in a way he hadn't seen for a long time. Too long. Beautiful enough for him to have the overly romantic thought that he never wanted the night to end.

Even after he had done his rounds, engaged with all whom he had planned on, he wasn't quite ready to leave. They had all been dreadfully dull, but at least a few conversations would prove useful in the future at the very least.

He started to steer you towards the back garden doors, whispering in your ear, "Take a walk with me?"

You followed him easily, happy to leave the bustle of the ballroom and step into the coolness of the night. You both started walking, hand and hand in a comfortable silence. It was a pretty enough garden, hedges and ivy lining the walkways, a white slightly weathered gazebo placed in the center.

"You know," You said eventually, as the two of you went up the gazebo steps. You leaned against the railing, looking at him with a coy smile, "I don't recall you ever proposing."

Astarion barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes as he crowded around you. It was an unnecessary question, considering how you would have no choice in the matter. But he was playing nice tonight. Astarion grinned at you, bracing his hands on the railing to cage you in his arms, "If you want a proposal, I'm more than happy to oblige."

"I do," You were playing with the lapel of his jacket, looking up at him through your lashes, "Sooner than later if you don't mind."

"Your wish is my command," Astarion murmured, shameless as he started to kiss along the line of your throat, "I'm proud of you pet. You've been an angel all night."

"You haven't given me much to complain about," You said with a small laugh, your breath hitching when his fangs scraped against your delicate skin, hard enough to make pinpricks of blood bubble to the surface.

"You know..." Astarion started, pulling back to look you in the eye. His voice gentle but serious, "It could always be like this. If you let it."

"I... I know," You admitted, biting on your lower lip as you struggled for the words, "I-I want that. I want you. Even if... it's like this."

Astarion would take offense at the subtle dig if it was anyone else. But with you? He was just happy that you were finally coming around, at long last willing to accept the fate he'd set for you.

"You have it," Astarion promised, tilting your chin up to press a light kiss to your lips, "For as long as I breathe my love, you're mine. And I'm yours-"

You kissed him before he could finish, wrapping your arms around his neck, forceful in a way that he had desperately missed. But you were pulling back too soon, your mouth swollen and your lipstick slightly smeared, smiling at him like the precious thing you were.

How could he resist?

"I think you deserve a reward for tonight my pet," Astarion said, leaning in to softly kiss along your jaw, "For being such a sweetheart."

His hands were wandering, already moving to pluck at the delicate straps of your dress, slowly teasing them to drop down your shoulders.

You made no moves to stop him as your eyes darted around the empty space, "H-Here? But what if someone sees?"

"Then I'll tear their eyes out and feed them back to anyone who stumbles on us," Astarion said simply, smiling at the way it made you laugh softly.

"Violence isn't always the answer you know," You said, your breath hitching as he lightly bit your neck. Your dress still slinking down all the while, "I thought we talked about that?"

"Perhaps," Astarion murmured, "But it seems to usually work in my favor."

He had already managed to slip the straps down enough to ease the way, brazenly tugging the fabric until your breasts spilled from the top. He leaned back in, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth as you gasped; mewling when he began touching you, shamelessly pinching your nipples just to hear you whine.

He adored all your little noises, so easy to coax out of your mouth. He could feel his own cock pulsing in the confines of his trousers, the feeling getting worse and worse as you started to whimper.

Astarion let one of his hands travel further down, right through the slit in your gown. He traced the seam of your pussy through delicate lace, smiling into the kiss from how the simple touch had your hips pitching forward. He could feel you getting wet, already seeping through the fabric of your panties, your needy cunt already begging for his touch. And Astarion was more than happy to oblige.

He tore them from your hips, letting the tattered pieces fall unceremoniously to the ground before he started to rub his palm against your clit, more slick gushing out as you moaned.

You were clutching at his shoulders, panting into his mouth as he played with you. Your thighs tightened around his hand, your cunt wet enough to fill the air with messy, indecent sounds.

Whatever trepidation you had before was quickly dissolving, a small chant escaping your lips as you two kissed, Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.

Astarion was more than happy to oblige.

"Hold onto me darling," Astarion ordered, giving you a split second to tighten your grip around his neck before he was lifting you in the air, settling you on top of the thick railing with your legs spread wide. He made quick work of taking his weeping cock out, rubbing it along the seam of your cunt as you moaned. And then he was pushing inside, the slide soaked and easy.

You felt so tight around him, tight and sopping wet as he started to fuck into you. He bent his head down, popping one of your hard nipples into your mouth as you cried out, your nails clawing into his shoulders. You wrapped your legs around his hips, trying to pull him in even closer, despite the fact that he was pressed deeply inside of you. Hitting all of your sensitive places.

He could tell that you were close, your whining getting more and more high-pitched by the second, your sweet cunt pulsing around his cock. Astarion started to rub at your clit again, at the perfect angle to make you tense up and cry out. And just like that you were squirting against his hand, breathing heavy as your orgasm ravaged through you.

Astarion grinned, popping off your breast to kiss your slack mouth. Naughty thing that you were, making a mess all over your fancy dress. He pulled back to look at you, debauched and panting, your pupils dilated at you stared up at him. You looked gorgeous, fucked out and perfect.

He started to fuck you harder, the erotic image was too much for his mind to handle. You where whining with each thrust, no doubt oversensitive as he roughly slammed into you. But you were a good girl, taking it without a single complaint as you held on for dear life, tears springing to the corners of your eyes. But lucky enough for you, you didn't have to wait long.

Astarion spilled inside of you with a drawn out moan, grinding circles into your cunt as you quivered. You pulled him in for another kiss, messily sliding your lips together as he filled you up. The two of you stayed like that for awhile, lazily kissing as he softened inside of you. It felt good, it felt right, the perfect end to a great night.

Astarion pulled out slowly, cooing at you as you gasped at the feeling. Your legs were still trembling as he set you back on the ground, bad enough for Astarion to wonder if he should just pick you up before you crumpled on the floor.

But first...

Astarion dropped to his knees, ignoring your surprised gasp as he spread your legs back apart.

"Hush darling," Astarion ordered as he pushed your dress back up, "Let me have a look at you."

Astarion was aware that he had gotten a little rough near the end there. It wouldn't be the first time he made you bleed during sex, nor the last. But he would hate to do so accidently. But no, your pussy looked perfectly healthy, if not a little swollen. Flushed and pink, your hole still twitching the slightest bit. The sight of your pussy all slick and red was nearly enough to make his mouth water.

"Spread your legs a little further pet," Astarion murmured, looking just to look. He gently added pressure to your shaking thighs until you complied, "That's it. Good girl."

His cum was already starting to leak out of you, the smallest bit of white making it's first appearance amongst your wet folds. No doubt it would be sliding down your legs soon enough. He could do something about that. But then again... the alternative sounded like too much fun.

Astarion stood back up with a smile, patting your pussy once before letting your dress fall back down, "Try to hold it in darling. We wouldn't want to make another mess, would we?"

You nodded slowly, still looking half out of it. A sweet, hazy look still plastered onto your face. You were already leaning in for another kiss, naturally desperate for more contact. Contact that Astarion was more than happy to give. He pulled you closer, kissing you deeply; your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him even closer. He wrapped his arms around your back, dipping his tongue between your lips as you dreamily sighed.

You pulled away first, to his displeasure, but you didn't go far. You rested your forehead against his, smiling softly with loving eyes, "Hi."

Astarion couldn't help but smile back, taking the time to tuck a wild piece of hair behind your ear, "Hello my treasure. Did you have fun tonight?"

"I think you know the answer to that," You giggled softly, "I'm not even sure I can walk."

That he did. And there would be many more nights like it. Though for now, he'd prefer to get you home. He felt a bit reluctant to parade you back out there for the masses eyes, so obviously debauched by his hands. No, the sight of you happy and flushed was for his eyes only. Your night would be ending here.

You squeaked as he swept you up in his arms, already muttering the magic for a portal under his breath. And just like that the two of you were gone, completely uncaring to give any good byes.

The two of you popped right into the entry hall of the estate, sudden enough to nearly scare a maid half to death. Astarion paid them no mind, too busy with carrying you upstairs to the sanctuary of your quarters.

You cuddled into his chest, looking up at him with a nervous look, "Did... Did I do good tonight?"

"Of course you did," Astarion cooed as he kicked the door to the bedroom open, trying to softly drop you on the bed, "Perfect creature that you are, what else could have possibly happened?"

But you didn't let go when he tried to pull back, clinging hard enough for Astarion to simply follow you. But he didn't mind, no he preferred you like this. Needy, wanting, and his. He twisted the two of your around, settling only when he had you laying on top of him. He would set a bath for the two of you later, but for now he was more than happy to lay here, watching as your tired to stay conscious. You always got so tired after sex, just one more silly thing that he was endeared by.

"I love you," You mumbled, your eyes falling closed, "Thank you for taking me tonight. For trusting me. I... thank you."

"I love you too darling," Astarion murmured back, kissing your forehead, "You get better by the day. I really am proud of you."

It was true. You were learning, adjusting. Give him a decade and you'd be completely immersed in your new life, all thoughts of useless things like "freedom" forgotten.

You were his. Until the end of time, you'd be together.

He'd make sure of that.

#astarion x reader #astarion #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #ascended astarion #asks #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #long fic #this took awhile #I'm slowly working through these asks but i can not make #anything simple #apparently #but i lost half of this near the end of the process and it broke me #she dirty #im telling yeah #she is

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