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flooffybits · 3 days

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Such A Cliché

A soulmate is a person's other half, so the pain that one feels is a pain shared with the other. However, when circumstances aren't quite agreeable, hurting your soulmate is what you end up doing anyway.

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: getting burned, yn is an ass, yoohyeon is scared of you, sad jiu, hospitals

A/N: lmao should have been done when I told you guys about it but I wanted to add more but here you go! also please tell me if i made a mistake, i had asked a friend what is unnie in chinese because i thought it would be nicer since dongie is yn's younger sister here

☕buy me a coffee☕

Gahyeon is understandably the last to get out of bed by the time morning comes. She knows that Dong had checked in on her a while ago, but she was too sleepy to even try opening her eyes, and instead batted the older woman’s hand away, grumbling about another five minutes.

So when she finally does decide to get up and get ready, the maknae was confused to see her roommate fussing around the dorm, perfectly dressed like always. “Are you heading out, unnie?” She asked while taking a seat, welcoming the quick peck Siyeon pressed to her cheek as a good morning greeting.

The Chinese woman hummed, smiling as she grabbed her bag and then began to put her hair up into a messy bun. “I’m picking my sister up from the airport today. I thought I told you last night?”

She did. Gahyeon was just too sleepy to retain everything the older woman told her.

“I don’t know why you expect her to remember after just waking up.” Bora teases, also dressed up and ready to accompany the latter. Though her comment did earn a pout from the maknae as she glared at the dancer. “I remember! I’m just still half asleep.” She argues, earning a laugh from the woman next to her before Siyeon pulls her to a hug. “Oh, no need to be so grumpy.” She cooed and Minji finally exited her room in time to see the pair putting their shoes on.

“Oh, you’re leaving already?” She questioned, smiling when she saw the now awake maknae. “Remember to be careful, alright?” She reminds them and Bora grins while giving her a thumbs up. “Like I would let anything happen to my princess.” She says with a puff of her chest and Dong only rolled her eyes in good nature before taking her girlfriend’s hand and tugged. “Let’s go, I don’t want to have her wait too long.”

Bora allowed herself to be pulled out of the dorm, waving goodbye while Dong shouted a quick ‘be right back’.

Once the door closed behind the pair, Gahyeon turned to the leader with her brows pinched together. “I forgot that Y/n unnie was coming.” She suddenly said out loud and Siyeon chuckled while she sipped her coffee. “We figured.”

Still, Gahyeon couldn’t wipe the frown off her face as she sank further in Siyeon’s arms. “Is she going to stay here?” She mumbled and Minji sent her a sympathetic look. “I don’t think so. But Dongie wants us all to hang out.” She explains, making the maknae grimace. “Come on, I know that she isn’t too fond of us, but let’s do it for Dongie.” Siyeon coaxes her before Yubin and Yoohyeon finally come to join them in the main room.

“Dong unnie and Sua unnie already left?” Yubin noted and Minji hummed in confirmation. “I don’t know how Sua unnie is going to adjust, now that Y/n unnie is moving here.” Yoohyeon muttered before Minji gave her a meaningful look. “I know that we don’t get along with her too well, but who knows? Maybe getting to see her often now could help.”

“I hope so.”

“Is it obvious that I’m nervous?” Bora blurted out as she scanned the crowded building. She’s been to the airport numerous times and she’s not really antsy with having this many people around her. But it was the fact that she would be seeing you again that had her fidgeting in place.

Dong gave her hand a reassuring squeeze while smiling under her mask. “Relax, unnie. It’s just my sister.” That didn’t help the dancer’s nerves at all. “It’s your sister, the same one who does not like us, by the way.” She reminds and Dong resisted the urge to sigh, her smile slipping away as she looked away.

“She’s just… not adjusted yet. My parents are warming up to me being away and being an idol but Y/n, you have to understand that we were inseparable as kids.” She explained, causing Bora’s lips to purse when she felt the tension her girlfriend was feeling through their link.

She hated that she had to be put in the middle of it all.

You weren’t a bad person, you were just indifferent because of the fact that you had your only sibling stripped away from you at such a young age. You had grown up together until she moved to study in South Korea and eventually became a trainee, going against your parents’ wishes, and leaving you feeling abandoned.

You tried to be supportive of her, but everytime you would see her with her group members, it always felt like you were being reminded of how you had lost your sister to seven people you didn’t know.

It was childish, you had to admit, but you missed her dearly. Dong was your best friend and you protected her at every given moment. So, after a promotion at work, you were given the opportunity to move to a different country. And seeing that South Korea was among your options, your answer was clear as day.

“There she is.”

Bora didn't want to bring the topic up again, knowing how it was a sensitive subject. So she bears the usual grin she always wore before waving her hand in an exaggerated manner, enough for you, and a handful of strangers, to notice the dancer.

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes as you head over, forcing a smile for your sister, and you notice as she lets go of her soulmate's hand to welcome you into a warm hug.

"I can't believe you're actually here." You hear her voice muffled against your shoulder, and your smile becomes more genuine as you pull back to give her a proper once over. "I can't either, but I'm sure you're gonna get sick of my face one of these days now." You joke and Bora smiles from the side, witnessing your true self around your younger sister.

Though as your eyes drifted to her, the dancer smiled and her wave was more tame this time around. "It's been a while. I hope your flight was fine." She attempts and you nod stiffly, expression now blank that Dong has to nudge you. "It was alright, though I think my legs would appreciate the walk."

She's a little surprised, considering you were a little more civil compared to your first meeting years ago. But she takes it either way.

"Well, let's get you to your apartment. I want to hear all about the promotion." Your sister pipes up as she takes your arm and Bora trails after you as you speak, respecting both of your privacy.

Though she does notice how you keep a slow pace to make sure that she isn't too far behind.

"You mean she's actually civil, now?" Siyeon asks in disbelief as she sets her cup aside. Her eyes were so wide, it looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets.

"I was expecting her to ignore me the whole time. But she was trying." Bora explained, her face showing how she was also having troubles coming to terms with your new personality. "Then again, you are Dongie's soulmate. It's possible that she's still not too happy with the rest of us but tolerates you." Yoohyeon piped up and Bora turned to her. "I know, I thought of that, too."

Currently, Dong decided to spend a few nights with you to help you adjust, which Minji allowed.

"Dongdong actually told me that they had a serious talk when she went back home." The dancer stated while leaning against Yubin's arm. "But at least she doesn't resent you. She's trying for Dong unnie's sake."

"Dami is right. I'm sure none of us want to have Dongie pick sides. I'd probably do the same if my brother ever finds his soulmate." The leader commented and Gahyeon crinkled her nose. "Unless you find yours first." She teased, making the eldest playfully roll her eyes. "Very funny, but you know I'm not rushing into finding them."

Siyeon hums, already knowing the leader's stance after all these years. "Wouldn't it be funny if your soulmate ended up being Y/n?" Yoohyeon made a sound of protest, looking scandalized as Gahyeon laughed. "Don't say that! I can't imagine Jiu unnie with someone like Y/n unnie."

Bora rolled her eyes this time. "She isn't that bad. We don't even know what she's like aside from that one time and all the stories Dongie told us." She defended and Yubin shrugged her shoulders as she laced her fingers under her chin. "That's true, but all of unnie's stories are different from what Y/n unnie showed us."

"She's a protective older sister who had to let go of her only sibling. I'm sure you can understand how painful that must have been."

No one says anything to counter that. Even when Gahyeon was an only child, she's grown to love all the girls as though they were her own family, so she can't imagine having any of them taken away from her.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Bora spoke. "Dongie said Y/n was offering dinner for tomorrow." She looked up from her phone, the question in her eyes and Minji struggled a little to find an answer before she took a quick look around.

If Bora said you were fine, then maybe it would be alright.

"Sure. Tell them we'll meet them there."

Maybe that was her mistake.

Minji isn’t sure why, but given that you would be around more often now, she realized that you had to have some sort of civil relationship for your sister’s sake. Dong was as precious to you as she was to all of them. With you much closer now, there was no doubt that you would be around them, whether you liked it or not.

When dinner came around, Dong was leading the group through the restaurant, giving her name before they were brought to the table you had reserved for everyone, though you were nowhere in sight.

“I thought you said she was already here?” Yoohyeon asks cautiously, taking a seat and then looking around the fancy restaurant. “She sure does know how to go all out.” Siyeon comments when she looks at the various decorations and the expensive looking furniture.

Dong laughs at that, but a voice beats her into responding. “Work hard and you get rewarded, I suppose.” All heads turn to you when you finally join them and all but your sister and her soulmate straighten at your appearance.

With a nod, you take a seat beside the pair and then eye each girl. “I’ve already asked Dongie what you girls would like and ordered ahead. Though if you want to add anything, feel free to ask.” You explain, gesturing to the food that was already present on the table and answering Yubin’s silent question.

Minji shifts a little, the tension suffocating, before she decides to speak up. “It’s nice to see you again. I hope your trip was fine.” She says carefully, a kind smile on her features as you raise your eyes to meet hers. “It was alright.” Was your curt reply and Dong rolled her eyes before giving you a nudge on the side.

You give your sister a small glare before clearing your throat. “Right. Well, there was something I’ve been meaning to say.” You tell them and all eyes are on you, all of them listening very carefully while you keep a calm look on your face. “I am aware that my actions towards you all have been very childish and unpleasant.” You begin, and they aren’t sure if you notice the silent exchange they send each other or just chose to ignore it. “I didn’t make the effort to get to know any of you and merely aimed my anger and selfishness towards you all. For that, I’d like to properly apologize.”

The table is quiet for a while, the six girls looking at you in surprise and disbelief, and while you didn’t show it, you were a little nervous.

Thankfully, Yubin manages to recover before offering you a smile. “I understand why you acted the way you did, and it’s okay. I’m sure I would feel the same if I were in your shoes.” She assures and it’s like a chain reaction before everyone starts talking. “We get it, really. Family is really important to you.” Yoohyeon is the one to say, and while it was different for her, she does understand being separated from a loved one.

Slowly, the tension starts to melt away. And while it was still a little awkward, the girls found a little bit of comfort in your presence the longer you all spoke to one another. Much like Dong when she first arrived in South Korea, you weren’t too talkative.

You were still quietly gauging each of the girls’ personalities, though you knew enough about Bora to know she would take care of your sister, soulmate or not.

They all cared for one another and you could see that your little sister was, in fact, happy where she was. This was her home away from home, and you didn’t have the heart to keep blaming these girls when they made sure she was loved and taken care of.

Resigning to that fact, you decided that maybe this was for the best. You couldn’t cling to your childhood forever and it was probably time to move on.

While you're so stuck in thought, you failed to catch how Yoohyeon had accidentally knocked a bowl with her hand, effectively spilling its contents. Unfortunately, the soup in it was still hot and you were quick to wince when it came in contact with your skin.

What no one was also expecting though, was the yelp that came from across your seat. Minji had clutched her left hand in an attempt to soothe the sudden ache and Dong looked more than surprised as you cradled the exact same hand.

“Unnie, are you alright?" Gahyeon’s question caught your ears and Siyeon’s eyes widened as both you and the leader answered at the same time.

“I'm okay."

The table grew silent as the two of you finally looked up, Minji’s face growing pale when she realized what was happening. She had kept her soulmate link open, and by doing so led her connection to experience the same pain her soulmate was experiencing.

That soulmate… was you.

“I'm, uh, going to ask for more napkins." Yubin quietly muttered as she swiftly left the table and Gahyeon squirmed as her eyes shifted from one person to another. The silence was deafening at this point and Dong wasn't sure how to proceed as she looked towards Bora.

The dancer looked worried above all else, but the disbelief still showed. “I think-”

"Excuse me.”

Dong made a sound of protest as she watched you get up and leave the table. "Jie!” With a quick nod from her girlfriend, your sister quickly followed after you while the rest of the girls did their best to process what just transpired.

"So Jiu unnie’s soulmate…"

“I can't believe you jinxed it!" Yoohyeon squeaked while Siyeon tended to the leader’s hand, making sure it didn't hurt too much. “Oh god, Jiu unnie is… no, I can't even think about it.” Bora rolled her eyes at the maknae’s antics before she took the napkins from Yubin’s hands and began to wipe away the spilled soup. “Stop acting like Y/n’s some sort of disease."

“But she hates us!" Yoohyeon protested. “How can she be Jiu unnie’s soulmate?" Minji, who had been quiet the whole time, finally snaps out of her daze before looking around to assess what was happening.

She took note of the absence of you and Dong, so she's quickly on her feet and catching everyone off guard. “Unnie?"

“Where are they?" She almost feels panicked at the thought that you’d left, but Siyeon gently tugs her back down to sit. “Unnie, I think you need to let them talk and let Y/n calm down." She says softly and the leader purses her lips together. "But I… we…"

Bora frowns at her friend before shaking her head. “Just let them talk for now, okay?" And as much as Minji wants to go and chase after you right now, she reluctantly obliged, sitting stiffly in her seat while the others did their best to try and distract her.

It takes around ten minutes before Dong is walking back, a regretful look on her face, and Minji’s shoulders tense up when she doesn't see you anywhere. “Unnie went home." Oh.

Instantly, there's sorrow in the leader's chest with knowing that her soulmate intentionally chose to leave after finding out who she was. While you may not be on the best of terms, she at least hoped that you would open up to the idea and talk to her. Since you were now living in South Korea, she thought this might be your chance to repair the relationship that you had and maybe work on your bond.

But that didn't seem like the case.

“The food’s been paid for but… do you guys still want to stay?” Dong asks with a frown and Minji looks at her with pleading eyes. "Did she leave already?” She can't help asking and Dong gives her a look, analyzing her friend, and she's not sure whether or not she wants to answer.

But she knows Minji.

"She's waiting for her ride.”

That's all it takes for the leader to shoot out of her seat and out of the restaurant in hopes of catching you before your ride gets there. While Yoohyeon and Gahyeon wanted to protest, their respective partners both stopped them.

By the time Minji’s out the door, she feels the chill bite at her skin for a split second before it's mellowed down. Her heart skips a beat at the thought but pushes it down as she focuses on the task at hand. It doesn't take her long to find you though because there's only a few people there. She sees the way you rub your burnt hand and her own skin tingles at the slight pain that lingered.

"Can we talk?”

“You and I have no business with each other that would require-”

“You know that’s not true… not anymore at least.” You were stubborn, Minji knew that. But she wasn’t about to give up on a chance that allowed her to connect with someone on such a deeper level that even her words were no longer needed.

But you were having none of it. Soulmates be damned. You were not about to do that, not with her.

“It’s a stupid connection. It doesn’t mean anything to me.” You turn to give her a sharp look. “It shouldn’t mean anything to you either.” All words die in her throat when a car finally pulls up and you open the door, stepping inside without saying anything more than you already have.

Minji all but watches as you slip from her fingers and disappear into the night, leaving her with an aching heart and shattered hope.

“Unnie, are you sure?” Dong pants when she hunches over, hands on her knees while she tries to catch her breath and Minji puts away her nearly empty water bottle, blinking up at the rest of her team with an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry, I just keep messing up this one part.” She says regretfully and Bora gives her a look that basically screams “shut up or I just might strangle you”.

“It’s only just a little bit more practice and you girls will be free to go so don’t worry.” Sooyeon promises them and Yubin shakes her head with a grin. “It’s okay, unnie. We can handle it.” However, no one is able to pick up on the wince that the leader shows after finally stretching her arms and legs. Siyeon had only spared her a questioning stare before she’s being bothered by the overgrown puppy of the group as Bora marches in their direction.

“You alright to keep going?” Sooyeon asks her when she sees the leader staring, but Minji is quick to snap out of her thoughts and flashes a grin, nodding her head and calling everyone to attention.

The pain lingers, but she manages to push through until maybe the week after.

She quietly asked Siyeon to get her some hot packs to put on the sore area along with her legs one night before she’s just about ready to call it quits.

“Handong?”

The familiar voice meets everyone’s ears when the door opens and a dancer is quick to point to your sister, who spins around in surprise. “Jie jie! What are you doing here?” She asks when she walks over. “Actually, how did you get here?” She adds with her brows pinched together and you frown before handing her the plastic bag you were carrying. “I have a phone, you idiot.”

Bora walks over to join you, given that you were a little more welcoming of her now that you were living here and managed to get to know her on the few instances Dong had forced you to spend time together. “What’s that you got there?” She inquires while your sister finally looks at the contents of the bag, her face lighting up when she sees a few familiar names inside. “Aww! You didn’t have to come here and bring us food!” She laughed when she noticed the embarrassment on your face.

Minji blanches at the sight of you and basically shrinks next to the maknae who looks worriedly at her. “We can go out if you want, unnie.” She whispers, but the eldest only offers her a smile before shaking her head, letting out a shaky breath. “It’s okay.”

“Anyway, shouldn’t you be at work right now?” Dong asks when Bora takes the bag to set aside, telling everyone that you had gotten something for them, too. “I clocked out early. I wasn’t feeling too good.” You mumble before your sister raises a brow. “So you decided to come here instead of going home and resting?”

“I wanted to be more involved in your life.”

Your sister pauses at your words before a smile blooms across her face and a poke landed on your cheek. “You’re getting soft.” She teased and you crinkle your nose while swatting her hand away. “Shut up and go back to practice. Everyone is looking at us.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

With a laugh, Dong skips over to join the rest of her friends while you take a seat on one of the chairs to watch them do their work. While you were someone who worked in the world of business, you were honest when you told your sister that you wished to be more involved. So you pay attention to their choreography with rapt attention.

And while you don’t intend on doing so, your eyes gravitate towards the woman who was, in your opinion, a little more sluggish than she should be. It caused your brows to raise before pain flared throughout the entirety of your left side. Immediately, your hand reaches to try and soothe it, but the pain is persistent so you’re quick to look at the raven haired woman who is trying her best to power through whatever pain she was dealing with without realizing that she still kept her soulmate link open.

Looks like you were more tired than you let on because you did the same.

However, when you began to feel the sudden influx of her pain, your frown only deepened before you decided to slowly absorb whatever it was she was feeling, feeling a little relieved when she starts to move a lot more comfortably than when you arrived.

It’s like that for the rest of their practice as you quietly watched and accepted your soulmate’s discomfort without her knowledge.

“Will you be coming over tonight?” Dong asks when she comes back to you, candy in hand, and you shake your head, wincing when the nausea hits harder. “I just wanted to watch.” She scoffs before lightly punching your arm and you almost curse at how much that hurt. “You could have just gone ahead, dummy.”

Your brows knit together and at this point, Minji was already looking at you from where she stood. “I just felt like it. Now, shut up.” You grumble before swiftly walking out of the room and your sister laughs as she chases after you. “Jie jie, come on!” But your only goal right now was to escape and hide the fact that you had used your soulmate link to help Minji despite how you’ve been ignoring her.

Hell, you’ve been making her feel like utter shit with the way you talked to her since finding out she was your soulmate, but you had no idea that she was dealing with something like this.

“Be sure to eat when you get to your dorm and don’t stay up late.” You instruct as you reach your car, a pout forming on the latter’s lips as she crosses her arms. “Since when did you turn into mom?” She asks and you give her a look before getting inside. “I mean it, Dongdong.”

Sighing, she nods her head before giving you a quick hug and then shutting your door. “I will. Get some rest, okay? You look like you’re about to pass out or something.”

Shooting her a smile, you nod to the rest of the girls over her shoulder, eyes meeting Minji’s before you finally bid them all a goodnight and drive off.

As soon as you’re out of sight, Dong just stands there, but her smile is nowhere in sight as she lowers her hand and frowns in the direction you took. “Dongie?” Bora is quick to her side, noticing the sudden shift in her mood before her girlfriend shook her head. “I’ll check on unnie tomorrow.” Is all she says before she’s leading the two of them to the van that was waiting for them.

While you did avoid your soulmate like the plague, you do show up to a handful of their practices ever since then. Minji obviously noticed due to how her eyes would immediately gravitate towards you whenever you entered the room. She didn't mean to, but knowing that you were her soulmate had shifted something within her and she's a little frustrated knowing how your relationship was.

But since the first visit, Minji did notice how she was slowly feeling better. And at one point she did believe that she was finally well rested without knowing that you were the actual reason that she was better. Maybe the only time that she got a hunch was when you didn't come to their practice and she could feel the same throb on her side as before you had come to visit them.

“Y/n isn't here today?" Bora voiced out one time and Minji looked up to see your sister shaking her head in response. “She hasn't been answering any of my texts either so I think she's busy at work.” Dong tells them and Minji can't help but frown.

While you were a busy person, you always had time to text your sister on your whereabouts even though you’ve been living in South Korea for a month now.

"Doesn't unnie usually still text you though?” Yubin voices out Minji’s original thoughts. Even though she's admittedly still intimidated by your presence, Yoohyeon did show concern when she notices a difference in your usual routine. “The last message she sent me was three hours ago. She should be done with work by now.” Dong mumbles while she tries to send you another text. However when there’s still no response from you, she purses her lips before finally dialing your number.

“Maybe she’s just asleep, unnie.”

“She would have told me that she was headed home at least." Dong bites her lip as she anxiously waits for you to pick up the phone. However as soon as the line connects, she breathes out a heavy sigh of relief. “Yah! What are you doing? I've been trying to contact you-"

Everyone watches as the resident cat went quiet, her expression hardening as she listened to whoever seemed to have your phone at the moment. “What room?" Is all they hear before she's thanking the person and then quickly reaching for her bag.

“Unnie, I need to go to the hospital."

Bora and Minji’s faces were both of surprise and shock, but the former says nothing more as she follows after her soulmate while the leader and the rest of the members hurried after them. "Y/n unnie is at the hospital?” Yoohyeon asks while she did her best to avoid tripping over her own feet. "What happened?”

"That's what I want to know, too.”

As everyone huddled inside the car, Dong stares at her phone with Bora gently coaxing her into talking to her. Meanwhile, Minji’s mind can't help but run around at the possible reasons as to why you would be in the hospital.

For some reason it saddens her how she can't even feel anything that you may be feeling at the moment and all she can think of is how you've cut your connection off. It stings, but she refuses to be selfish right now and focuses on keeping her member calm and the rest in check.

As soon as they get to the hospital, Dong is the first one out and is quickly asking for directions to your room. She has no room for anything else at the moment. She just needed to see where you were. So she skips the elevator and opts for the stairs, taking two steps at a time and ignoring the protests of her roommate and soulmate.

“Uh, do you know where we're going?" Yubin can't help but question. Still no response. “Dongie, slow down or you might trip." Siyeon warns, only for the said female to abruptly turn down the next corridor, causing Yoohyeon to nearly crash into the dancer’s back.

Your sister would apologize to them later, probably. Right now, she was more concerned about your condition. When her eyes spotted the room number you were in, she quickly reached for the door before pushing it open.

“Jie jie?"

Inside, she immediately finds you sitting on the hospital bed. She's quick to give you a once over before she notices the bags under your eyes and that your skin lacks color. Her brows pinch together in worry as she comes closer and you turn your head when you hear their group.

“Dongie, what are you doing here?" Minji frowns at the question, but Dong merely scoffs as she crosses her arms across her chest. “What am I doing here? What happened to you?" She all but seethes. “You weren't answering any of my texts and when I call you, it's someone from work telling me that you're at the hospital?" Your frown deepens when the guilt stems in your chest the more your sister speaks. “I told you not to overwork yourself."

The rest of the girls are a little surprised, but then again this was her sister. It was understandable that she was upset right now.

“Dongdong, calm down." Minji gently soothes as Bora grabs her soulmate’s hand. “I know you're upset, but Y/n needs to rest right now, okay?" You watch as the leader tries to coax your sister but the glare she has is still fixed on your face as she waits for an explanation.

“It's okay." You finally interrupt. Looking around, you breathe out a sigh before gesturing for everyone to take a seat. “I suppose you'll all be here for a while so please have a seat somewhere."

“Jie-"

“I'm sorry." You cut your sister off with a heartfelt apology. “I didn't mean to worry you. In fact, I didn't think this would happen in the first place." You tell her, leaning back against the bed. “What exactly happened then?”

You're quiet for a moment, carefully considering whether or not to tell the truth with all of her members present. But then again, you were seeing them in a completely different light especially after you've been experiencing how exhausted Minji’s felt ever since you arrived.

"Jiu-ssi.”

Everyone looked surprised when you called their leader, but your soulmate only looked at you as your eyes met hers. "You haven't been feeling anything for a while, have you?” It was a simple question, but Gahyeon only frowned at the implication. "Why are you asking Jiu unnie?” But Yubin had placed a hand on the maknae’s knee while Minji shifted in her seat. "Not… really. I only got a little sore after some of our practices but they pretty much went away after."

She doesn't understand why this was relevant. You'd severed your connection with her ever since you found out she was your soulmate. It was why she couldn't feel an ounce of the pain you were feeling.

“As it turns out, the pain that you've been feeling for the past month has only been accumulating."

What?

“You were experiencing some pain on your sides the day I first visited Dongie at your company. I noticed that you weren't exactly comfortable when you were dancing so I tried something.” Wait, did that mean… “When I had reopened our soulmate bond, I was able to take that pain away, along with every other discomfort you had been feeling at the time."

Minji’s eyes widened at the admission and her back grew stiff. “I also noticed how the pain was becoming more frequent so I opted to just leave the link open." You then shake your head when you remember where you were. “Unfortunately, it looks like I've overestimated myself.”

“But I thought…”

"How come unnie never felt anything from you?” Siyeon asks when she notices that the leader was unable to find her voice. "A soulmate link can be made one way. So I opted to keep her out while letting her pain in.” Dong took your hand in hers when she took the seat closest to the bed. “You should know how exhausting that can be. You should have said something.” Your sister scolds and you only smile while squeezing her hand. "After what I said to her…" You tear your eyes away from your sister to look at your soulmate. “I thought maybe this was my way of possibly apologizing."

Minji couldn’t believe her ears, but at the same time, she was deeply moved with how you had decided to take all of her pain away even when you had told her that it all meant nothing to you. All this time she believed that you had no care for her and yet… you had been taking care of her without her knowledge.

“I know that I overreacted when I found out, but the truth is that I’m afraid of what this link may bring me.” You finally admit with a heavy breath. “I didn’t want to have another thing possibly be taken from me again, so I opted to just push you away rather than accept you and the bond that we have.”

Sensing the sensitivity of the conversation, Dong quickly gestured for everyone to get out of the room. And while Yoohyeon wanted to protest, her soulmate placed a hand over her mouth and merely dragged her outside. Bora sent her best friend a look while Dong gave you a smile before they both closed the door, leaving the two of you alone.

“I’m sorry, Jiu-ssi. I know that you’ve been miserable since we last spoke but I guess I was too prideful to admit that I was in the wrong in the first place.” You tell her and Minji forced herself to stand back up before slowly approaching your bed.

“I… can’t say that it was okay but… I do understand where you’re coming from.” She finally says while gripping her own hands. “Your sister left, you were hurt. So now that there’s something else to lose, you’re afraid.” She had hit a nail on that one as you dropped your gaze down to your lap and Minji felt her heart skip as she stopped at the edge of your hospital bed. “But Y/n… you need to know that I don’t give up on the things that matter to me.”

You lift your head in surprise to see her already staring at you, a warm look on her face as she assesses you and you wonder deep down why she isn’t screaming at you, cursing you for hurting her. “How can you possibly forgive me?” It comes out of your mouth before you can even think, and she only gives you a smile.

“I’d like to think that I’m not like most people. And if you give me a chance… maybe we can get to know more about each other's soulmate better?”

#girl group #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher imagines #dreamcatcher scenarios #jiu #jiu scenarios #jiu imagines #jiu x reader #kim minji #dreamcatcher x reader

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spookylilbimbo · 1 year

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One quick before bed selfie 🖤

#i should have been asleep so long ago lmao #he went to bed almost 5 hours ago..and i should have too but damn sleeping without him is so hard #like nights at mikes im in bed at a reasonable hour and any other night im up until at least 3 😂🙃#its like 330 so im at least going to try to sleep. but damn its hard without him #i just miss him so much #it feels so silly but i sleep like she all the time since i stopped smoking. except when im next to him #hopefully tonight doesnt bring me more nightmares like last night did..only one way to find out though #too soft for all of it

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javiscigarette · 7 months

Text

For You, I Would

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel catches you doing something you definitely shouldn't be doing and teaches you you lesson (or a prequel to Push and Pull aka the first time he sends you to subspace)

Warnings: no use of y/n, let's see, PWP, established relationship, dom Joel (daddy Joel near the end) fingering, crying, subspace, degradation, cum play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), spitting, spanking, ass play, creampies, wet, messy, filthy smut

w/c: 9k of pwp oops

a/n: Sooo there are multiple requests that have been sitting in my inbox collecting dust for months so this is long overdue. And ummm I think I was possessed or something while writing this bc Whoa!!! it's a lot. Anyway, it was fun revisiting push and pull, hope this lives up to those standards lmao

my masterlist

"Yours" you pant, hands clawing at the blankets beneath you. "Always yours" "Mhm" he hums against your neck, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. "And that's why you like when it's too much. When I'm in charge and you have to do what I tell you, when you have to take what I give you and not complain about it. Because you like being mine"

It happens on a late, rainy Saturday morning.

The bedroom is dark when you wake up, the rain pounding against the windowpane with a soft rumble of thunder in the distance. The spot next to you is empty but the smell of food cooking wafting upstairs and through the slightly cracked bedroom door lets you know where he is.

You roll over to the empty side of the bed, the soft sheets still slightly warm. You bury your face into his pillow, the smell of his cologne and shampoo overriding your senses. And that's when you feel it, wetness seeping out of you down your inner thigh. You glance over to the alarm clock, which read 10:12am, 3 hours after Joel woke up with his raging hardon pressed firmly into the back of your thigh. 3 hours after he fucked you into the bed and how he made you cum around his cock twice before he unloaded inside of you, then slowly fucked his cum in as deep as he could get it.

He got a wet rag to clean you up, but you were too sleepy and tried to actually get up and do something about the liquid slowly seeping out of you. But you kind of liked it, falling back asleep to the feeling of being full of his hot release, drops of it dribbling out of you even though you tried your best to keep it in.

And now, your cunt is already aching at the thought of his cum still deep inside of you so much of it right where it should be. You inhale a deep breath with your face squished against the pillow, the scent of him going straight to your core and adding to the building pressure. You wish he was here; wish he would just fuck another load into you right now. But if he's making breakfast, then you can't complain.

So, you take matters into your own hand. With a deep breath, you slip a hand between your bare thighs and press the heel of your palm to your clit, the friction immediately making you moan quietly into the pillow. You rock your hips slowly, lighting grinding against your hand before dipping your fingers into the mess leaking from your hole. You don't even think, you just do. You smear his cum on your cunt, coating it thickly and slipping two fingers into yourself with ease. It's almost embarrassing how easy you open up for them, how slick and wet you are, both from a couple hours ago and now. Your chest feels warm and tight as you slowly pump your fingers in and out of your swollen hole, letting soft moans tumble past your lips as you do so. You're so consumed in what you're doing that you don't hear the bedroom door creak open.

"What are you doing, baby?"

You gasp and yank your hand away like you've been burnt, rolling over onto your back and staring wide-eyed at him.

He's standing in the doorway, red and plaid pj pants hanging low on his hips. His arms are crossed over his bare chest, his face set in a deep frown.

He caught you red fucking handed.

"N-nothing, I swear. I was just..." You're not sure how to finish that sentence. Your heart was already kicking in your chest from both arousal and the expectancy of Joel's next course of action. You knew you were in for it. You know you broke his rules.

You cower under his icy glare, wishing you could just disappear into the mattress. But you can still feel a gush of slick seeping out of you, adding to the mess in between your legs. Your heart beats even faster as he silently crosses the room to the side of the bed where you're lying. He sits on the edge, one leg tucked under him so he can face you.

"Do you remember our rule?” His tone is sickeningly sweet and gentle.

"I-I'm not allowed to touch myself unless you say."

"Mhm" he nods, his hand falling to your thigh. You can feel his grip through the comforter. "Was comin' up here to tell you breakfast is ready, and this is what I find. A bad little girl breaking the rules"

"I-I'm sorry, sir."

He's rubbing your thigh now, the soft fabric of the blanket separating his hand from your skin. "That's alright. It's okay to make mistakes."

The heaviness in your chest lightens at that, a soft smile curling on your lips. You thought you were really in for it.

"But you know what I have to do now, right?"

Your heart leaps back into your throat, a wave of nerves hitting you again, undercut with the wave of arousal causing more slick to leak out of your sore hole. You whine and squirm under the blankets, giving him the most remorseful look you can.

"I'm sorry, sir" you whisper again, pleading with wide wet eyes. "Just wanted to feel you. Wanted more." Your voice wavers and trails off to a quiet whisper as you cast your eyes down in shame.

Joel hums, his hand traveling further up your leg, pushing the blanket off your thigh in the process. His hand is warm and big, almost completely engulfing the flesh of your upper thigh.

"I know, baby" he murmurs, his eyes glued to where your thighs are pressed together. "Poor little thing is always so desperate to be filled, huh?"

You bite your lip and nod your head but keep your body perfectly still. You know better than to move right now after the stunt you just pulled. He moves his hand between your legs, his thumb swiping against the slick leaking out of you.

"My little slut is still all wet" he mumbles. The words make you shiver.

He wipes the pad of his thumb over your clit, causing you to gasp and jolt. He shushes you, his other hand coming to grip the underside of your thigh, slowly spreading your legs apart. A low groan, almost a growl, comes from deep in his chest at the sight of your swollen, sopping wet cunt on full display for him, his cum mixed with your sticky arousal leaking steady from your fluttering hole, dripping down, and sliding over your asshole onto the sheets below you.

"Such a sloppy little cunt" he murmurs, dragging his fingers through the mess and then pulling them away. Your eyes are glued to his movements, watching with rapt attention as he raises his hand and slips his fingers into his mouth, licking the wetness off them with a pleased hum.

"Gonna teach you a lesson, baby.” He announces after pulling his fingers from his mouth. “Gonna teach you to follow our rules.”

"Please, sir” you plead. “I'll be good, I promise. Just...just wanna feel you."

"Oh, I know you’ll be good. And you're gonna feel me" he purrs, his fingers back on your cunt, spreading the slick around and rubbing against your clit. "Gonna fill you up, sweet girl.”

You whimper at his words, a new wave of arousal hitting you and coating his fingers. He groans and slips his middle finger into you with no resistance.

"But first, m'gonna make you cum"

You're shocked at his promise. He rarely lets you get off the hook this easy. He wastes no time, pumping his thick finger in and out of your cunt. You moan softly, the pleasure rippling through your stomach, your muscles tightening as he works. He wastes no time adding another finger and curls them up, rubbing at the spot that makes you see stars. Your walls flutter around him as electricity crackles down your spine and settles as white heat between your legs. You whimper as he massages your front walls, more slick and cum running down his fingers into his palm.

"Gettin' my hand all messy, baby" he mumbles.

You try to stifle a moan as you watch his fingers slide in and out of your drenched hole, the lewd wet sounds of it all fills the room and causes your cheeks to burn. It doesn't take long for him to bring you to the edge. It never does. He's had too much practice, knows your body and what buttons to press that get you there in no time.

"Close, sir. Please, I'm so close" you breathe, your hands fisted tightly in the sheets beneath you.

"Go on" Joel murmurs, his voice low and gravelly. "Cum all over my fingers, baby"

And then you're coming undone, a cry leaving your lips as your muscles clench and contract, the waves of pleasure hitting you like a ton of bricks. Joel groans, his fingers never slowing, and leans down to kiss and nip at your neck, his tongue running over the damp hallow of your throat while his other hand squeezes the flesh of your thigh.

"That's it, baby. So good for me, so good."

You're a whimpering mess, your hips rocking and chasing the high as he works you through your orgasm. You eventually start to come down, but his fingers are unrelenting. He continues to massage your front wall, his mouth attached to the base of your throat. You feel like jelly, your limbs heavy and boneless, the only thing grounding you being Joel's hot mouth sucking a dark hickey onto the side of your neck and his thick fingers buried in your cunt.

"That's one" he mutters against your skin.

You gasp and whine. You know exactly what he means.

"Joel, fuck I can't-"

"Don't fuckin' lie" he growls, his teeth nipping at your collar bone. "Needed to cum so badly that you had to break the rules and touch yourself and now you're sayin' you can't handle it?"

"Joel, please. I-"

"You'll cum as many times as I tell you to. Greedy girl, should be grateful that I'm lettin' you cum at all"

You bite down hard on your bottom lip, the familiar tension beginning to build back up in the pit of your stomach. You try to squirm out from his grasp, even though you're well aware it's against your best interest to do so, but you can't help it. It's all so overwhelming and you know it's only going to get worse, that this is just the beginning of what he has planned for you. But his free hand quickly finds your hip, pinning you to the bed. You keep squirming, but the only movement you can manage is a slight roll of your hips against his hand.

"Stay still and take what I'm givin' you" he grunts, his hand squeezing the flesh of your hip.

"Can't" you whimper. "Can't, 's too much"

Much to your surprise, Joel immediately retracts his hand and sits up straight again. The pressure of his fingers is gone, which you thought would be a relief, but all you feel is cold and empty. He glares down at you, one eyebrow raised expectantly as the muscles flex in his jaw.

"You want me to stop?"

"No! No, I didn't mean it like that"

"What did you mean, baby? Because I'm not a mind reader. If you need me to stop, then you know what to say, don’t you?"

"I know, I just, I mean-"

"You just what? Just want to be bad still?"

His tone makes you feel small and little, and your cheeks burn. You'd probably cry if it were any other situation, but your cunt just clenches pathetically around absolutely nothing.

"I meant, um, I meant it's too much and I can't handle it and-and"

"And you're being punished," Joel interjects "And you need to fucking deal with it" his gaze icy and dark.

You bite your lip and nod, tears pricking behind your eyes, but you blink them away. "Yes, Sir."

He hums approving, his wet hand sliding further up your thigh, back towards your center.

"What's the safe word?" he asks, his tone slightly gentler. Just slightly.

"Red" you squeak out.

"Do you wanna use it?"

you shake your head vehemently. "No, sir."

He chuckles darkly, his wet fingers tracing over your cunt and teasing your entrance. "Didn't think so. Such a greedy little cockslut."

He's back inside you before you can even respond, pumping his two fingers in and out. You cry out, the sudden fullness and stretch making you writhe under him as his calloused finger pads rubbing against your velvety walls in just the right way. He doesn't bother letting you adjust, just immediately curls his fingertips and pummels against your g-spot. The familiar tension is already building again, but you're so sensitive, and it feels like too much, like a burning ache deep inside of you.

"Oh, god. Oh, fuck" you choke out, voice already watery and wrecked.

"Takin' my fingers so good, baby" Joel groans, his eyes fixed on where he's working in and out of your swollen cunt. "Look so pretty stuffed full of my fingers."

Your thighs shake and your breath gets caught in your throat, and that's how Joel knows.

"That's it. Cum, baby. I wanna feel you squeeze around me again"

You open your mouth, ready to tell him again how it's too much but all that comes out is a loud moan as the tightly wound cord finally snaps. Your walls clamp down around his fingers as your incessantly roll your hips, inadvertently grinding your clit against the heel of his palm. Your hand shoots up to grab his bicep, your fingernails digging into the skin so hard that you're positive you're drawing blood.

"There you go, baby, that’s it. That’s two."

He's not stopping, doesn't even slow down, and the intensity is so great that a few tears slip from your eyes. He finally takes his hand off your hip, allowing you to move your lower body, and instead uses his now free hand to push the thin straps of your camisole off your shoulders, tugging it down and exposing your chest.

"Play with your tits, baby" he growls, his fingers still moving inside of you. His voice is starting to sound a little further away as the blood pumping through your veins roars in your ear. Your hands immediately find your chest, squeezing your soft mounds before tweaking your nipples.

"Oh, god" you choke out, back arching off the mattress and into your own touch. Your legs are shaking uncontrollably, and it feels like your heart is going to beat right out of your chest. The fire in your belly is burning bright again, creeping in before you can even recover from the last one. It's all too much. You feel like you're being lit on fire, the feeling in your core almost too intense. You're so overwhelmed and overstimulated yet so desperate for more all at the same time.

"Gonna cum for me again, baby?" Joel taunts, his lips curved in a devilish smirk.

You can't even respond, you can't do anything but lay there and let him work, a pathetic whining noise leaving your lips. Your hands are still on your breasts, playing with them as best you can, pinching and tugging at your nipples, your back arching off the mattress as pleasure and pain surge through you. You don't register what he's doing with his other hand until it’s pushing down on your stomach, right on top of where he’s stroking your spot with his fingers. And the tension snaps once again.

And that's when the tears fall.

Hot, wet drops stream freely down your cheeks as the dam breaks open. Your entire body tenses as you cum for the third time in less than 10 minutes, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through every cell in your body while you positively writhe underneath him.

Joel notices and his fingers immediately still inside of you. Anxiety and concern replace the hunger in his eyes, his heart now pounding his chest for a completely different reason.

"Color, baby" he says, his voice soft and gentle, doing a good job to mask the worry that's quickly consuming him.

You blink rapidly, trying to clear your vision enough to look at him. You can't make out his features, your eyes bleary with unshed tears, and your body is so wracked with tremors that you're unable to speak, your breath catching in your throat.

You don't answer, and it terrifies him. His hand slips from your core and you whine, feeling empty and cold and sore, more slick dripping down between your cheeks. He moves to lie next you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you tight against his chest.

"M'sorry, baby" Joel whispers, his voice trembling slightly as you continue to sob into his chest. His heart pounds and his hands trembling where he's holding you. It takes another minute or two for you to calm down and finally take a deep breath.

"M'okay" you manage to mumble, your lips brushing against his skin. He pulls back at the sound of your voice so he can look at your face. His stomach twists a little at the sight of your raw, tear-stained cheeks.

"Fuck, baby. Are you sure? I shouldn't have pushed, should've listened to you, should've--"

"It's okay" you breathe, cutting him off. "Wasn't too much just.... just felt really good"

Joel frowns and wipes away some of your tears with the pad of his thumb "But you were cryin' honey."

You let out a faint chuckle. "Yeah. But...but it's good. Like, so fucking good"

His face relaxes a bit, relief washing over him as he sighs. "Had me worried, baby. Thought I went too far."

"No, no, you were perfect" you murmur. "Just...didn't expect it, I guess"

Joel hums and places a sweet kiss on your forehead.

"How do you feel now?" he asks, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek.

"Shaky, sore. Tired."

He nods his head, his gaze dropping from yours for a moment.

"Think we should talk about this" he says after a few moments.

"We are talkin’" you giggle weakly.

"M'bein' serious" he huffs, his gaze returning to yours.

"I know" you sigh. "Talk about what?”

"What happened. That was a lot, baby. Never seen you come undone like that before"

"I told you it felt good” you remind him, snuggling a bit closer. “Better than good, actually"

"Well, I know that. But I need to know if you're okay, right?"

"Of course. You took care of me. Made sure I was alright"

"I mean, yeah, I did. But...but you’ve never cried like that, sweetheart. Scared me a little"

You stare up at him, his brown eyes full of concern but still so much of that familiar warmth.

"I liked it" you say quietly, suddenly very aware of how close his bare chest is to your face. "Like a lot. Liked how...how in control you were. Like being used by you, liked the way it felt to be..."

"To be what, baby?"

"Overstimulated. I...I like it when it's too much."

"Jesus Christ" Joel groans, the sound vibrating in his chest and tickling your cheek. "Didn't know I had such a filthy girl in my bed."

"It's not filthy, it's...it's fun."

"Hmm, and that's the only reason?"

"Why else would I like it?"

"C'mon baby, don't play dumb. We both know why you like it"

"W-what are you talking about?"

He laughs, his chest bouncing, and rolls on top of you, his hands bracketing your face and his lips finding yours. He kisses you deeply, his tongue sliding into your mouth and tasting you, his beard scraping against the smooth skin of your cheeks.

"I think you like it because it makes you feel small." He whispers when he pulls away. "And you like being taken care of and held down and bossed around and fucked."

"Joel" you whimper, his words sending a pulse straight to your already throbbing core.

"You like being a good girl for me" he continues, ghosting his lips along your jaw and down the side of your neck, sucking and nipping as he goes. "But you love being punished, don't you? Like when I use you and take whatever I want, however I want. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?"

"Yes" you moan, your legs falling open wider as he settles his body in between them. "God, yes. Love it when you fuck me and call me names and-- and hold me down and tell me what to do."

"I know, baby. Know you're a filthy little slut who needs to be taken apart. My dirty little girl. Aren't ya?"

"Yours" you pant, hands clawing at the blankets beneath you. "Always yours"

"Mhm" he hums against your neck, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine.

"And that's why you like when it's too much. When I'm in charge and you have to do what I tell you, when you have to take what I give you and not complain about it. Because you like being mine"

His words bring back that floaty feeling, your heart starting to race in your chest again. He's right, he knows as much as you do.

"I love it, Joel” you admit breathlessly. “Love being yours"

“I know, baby” Joel hums, his teeth nipping at the base of your throat. "And you want to keep going, don't you?"

"Please" you beg almost immediately, rolling your hips against his, your clit brushing up against the bulge in his sweatpants.

"Good girl" he growls, his hot tongue lapping at the sweat glistening on the skin of your neck. He trails wet, open-mouthed kisses from the hollow of your throat to your collarbone and down your sternum until he reaches your chest. He takes a nipple in his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive nub and making you gasp. He sucks and licks, the tip of his tongue swirling around stiff peak before switching to the other, the flat of his tongue laving over it.

"Love when I tease you like this too, huh honey?" he says, his hot breath fanning over your chest. "Love when I get you all worked up and touch you everywhere except the one place you want it."

"Yes, sir." you whine, threading your fingers through his hair, fingernails scratching lightly at his scalp. He hums as he rolls his tongue around your nipple one last time before pulling back and sitting up.

"Hands and knees" he says firmly, and your stomach flutters at the command as you scramble to sit up and position yourself just like he wants.

"Such a good girl" he croons, his large hand caressing the small of your back. "So eager and ready to please"

You let out a breathy whimper, his praise making you giddy.

"You gonna do what I tell you? Be my good little girl and let me play with that tight cunt until you can't think anymore?"

"Yes, sir" you nod.

"What's the safe word?"

"Red"

"And what are you going to do if you want me to stop?"

"Say red"

"Good girl."

The hand on your back slides lower, his palm cupping your ass.

"Spread your legs wider for me" he instructs, his other hand sliding up your spine and pushing your shoulder forward, encouraging you to lean down and put your face against the mattress. You do as he says, moving your knees apart and bowing your back, giving him a nice view of your ass.

"There ya go. Now, stay."

You wait in anticipation, wondering what's coming next. A few seconds later, he swats your ass cheek, not enough to necessarily hurt, but enough for it to sting a little. He rubs the reddened flesh, squeezing the cheek in his palm.

"So fuckin' pretty" he rasps. "My pretty girl."

He delivers a sharp slap to your opposite cheek, his palm connecting with the plump skin. Your cunt clenches and you moan at the delicious pain. He growls, delivering a couple more smacks, a bit harder this time, before soothing the tender flesh.

He then leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to the small of your back, his beard tickling your skin before moving lower. You feel his hot breath against your slit as his palms slide down and grab handfuls of your ass, his thumbs spreading your cheeks and exposing your cunt and asshole.

"Jesus Christ" he hisses, his warm breath fanning over your pussy. "You're fucking soaked, baby."

Without warning, he drags his tongue through your folds, lapping at your swollen and dripping core. You let out a wet gasp, the sensation immediately rekindling the fire in your belly.

"So goddamn sweet" Joel groans, He buries his face between your legs, his tongue and beard driving you crazy, the scratch of his stubble burning on your inner thigh. He sucks on your clit, his lips closing around the swollen nub and pulling it into his mouth, his tongue flicking expertly at the little bud. You're so oversensitive and can already feel the coil tightening again.

He flattens his tongue and licks from your clit to your aching hole over and over again. He gets higher and higher with each one until his tongue is lapping at your other hole.

"Oh, fuck" you cry out, the unexpected sensation of his tongue probing at your ass throwing you off guard. Your cunt clenches, and Joel feels it, the vibration making him hum, his beard still scraping the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. He presses his face harder between your cheeks, his tongue swirling around your entrance before pushing in.

The sounds of your strained moan echo through the room as he fucks his tongue in and out of your tight hole. You squirm, desperate for some friction on your aching cunt, but you're unable to move, his large hands holding your hips firmly against his face. He doesn't let up, his tongue pumping in and out, fucking you and driving you absolutely crazy. He groans as you clench around him, the sound vibrating against you and making you shake. The heat is building rapidly, and your vision starts to blur.

"Gonna make you cum again, angel. Wanna see you fall apart with my tongue in this sweet little hole and my fingers in your tight little cunt"

"Please" you whine, not knowing how much more you can take.

He pulls back, but you only have a second of missing the feeling before he spits on your cunt and uses his fingers to spread it around, mixing it with the slick that's still dripping out of you. He slides a finger inside, hissing when he feels the tight heat of your pussy once again. He adds another, and quickly builds up to that devastating pace, thick fingers pumping in and out of your needy cunt.

"So fuckin' tight" he murmurs, curling his fingers and stroking your walls. "Still so fuckin' tight and wet." You squeeze your eyes closed and breathlessly pant as he scissors his fingers, stretching and opening you up. He adds a third this time, the slide slick and easy as your hole graciously takes what he gives you. His thumb presses on your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive nub while he uses the other t=hand to grab your ass and spread you open again. He spits again this time on your asshole, just adding even more to the mess.

"Joel" you cry, his name falling from your lips in a whisper. He's fucking your pussy with his fingers, his thumb working your clit. He doesn't respond, just leans back in and starts lapping at your asshole again. You feel the tension build again, the heat coiling deep inside your gut, the pleasure so intense and overwhelming. Your legs shake and your hips rock back and forth, your body desperate for relief.

"That's it, honey. Want to feel you cum again. Feel how tight and wet you get when I fuck this ass with my tongue and play with your messy little cunt."

Your toes curl, and your back arches, the pressure becoming unbearable. Your pussy squeezes around his thick fingers, and the coil snaps, the tension releasing and the dam breaking. Your mind goes blank, and you scream and sob, your vision turning white. You cry, convulse, and tremble, your whole body shaking as your 4th orgasm rocks through you. He fucks you through it, his fingers continuing to pump in and out of you and his tongue lapping at the slickness between your cheeks.

"Holy shit, baby" he breathes, pulling away when you finally start to come down. You feel him shift behind you, his fingers sliding out of your pulsing pussy and his body moving away from yours. You're still trembling, and your body is numb. Your head feels heavy, and your eyelids are starting to droop. You feel him moving behind you, but you're too exhausted to turn and look at him.

But that doesn't fly with him.

"Look at me" he commands, and it takes nearly all of your remaining energy to turn your head and look at him over your shoulder. His pupils are blown, his eyes darkening and his jaw clenching. He growls low and deep in his chest, his cock lurching in his pants, and he can't wait any longer. He sits up and fumbles with his drawstring, yanking the knot loose and shoving his plaid pajama pants down his hips. You whimper when his cock springs free, finally relieved of its confines. He hisses as the cold air hits him, but quickly kicks the pants off the rest of the way.

"Can you talk to me, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice strained as he wraps a hand around his stiff length.

"Yes, Sir" you sniffle, blinking tears out of your eyes.

"Tell me how you're feeling, baby"

"Sore, Sir. But I like it. feel...floaty"

"That's alright, baby. Just relax. Daddy's going to take care of you, okay? I'm going to use this sweet little pussy, and you're gonna lay there and take it like a good girl for me, alright?"

The name he uses causes another strong wave arousal to course through your veins before settling between thighs. The two of you rarely use it - it's usually sir for you, and he rarely calls himself that. But it’s perfect for the moment and you can't help the way your heart speeds up at the sound of it.

"Yes, daddy." you moan, loving the way your lips form around the word, the way it effortlessly slides off your tongue. "Whatever you want. Anything."

"God, you're such a sweet girl" he moans. "Such a good girl, baby. Gonna be daddy's good little slut?"

"Yes, please" you nod, desperate for him to touch you. "Wanna be a good girl."

"I know, angel. Daddy knows." He moves, hovering over you as he digs the lube out of the nightstand. "Gotta make sure you're nice and wet first"

There’s absolutely no need for it. You’re drenched with cum and slick and spit, wetter than you’ve probably ever been. But he knows how you like it. How he likes it. Wet, hot, and so, so messy.

He sits back, and you watch him squirt some of the liquid into his palm and rub it up and down his length. It's mesmerizing, watching him stroke his cock, the thick, head disappearing and reappearing through the circle of his fingers, his shaft growing even more flushed and the veins protruding and twitching, precum beading at his slit, some of it dripping over his knuckles. You're not sure how much more teasing you can take.

"Always so fucking wet and ready for me" he murmurs, rubbing his cock up and down your dripping folds, getting himself even wetter with your juices. "Such a sweet little whore for me, hm? Sweet messy little slut, always begging to be fucked and filled up"

You're about to say something, about to beg and tell him yes, you're ready, please, please fuck me, please, sir, when you feel his fingers dip into your pussy again. You moan as he gathers more of your slick and brings his hand to his cock, slathering himself in your juices.

"Messy little thing" he muses. He can't wait any longer. With the tip of his cock against your entrance, he grabs your hip with one hand and your shoulder with the other.

"Tell me you're mine, darlin'" he orders.

"Yours" you immediately whine through tears, arching your back and pushing your hips back. "I'm yours. All yours. Please, Joel, I can't—".

You're cut off by the pressure of his thick cock sliding into your heat. It's a tight fit, a snug squeeze, despite him opening you up on his fingers and tongue. You don’t think you’ll ever be used to his size, his sheer length and girth stretching you out until it burns, no matter how wet and ready you are.

But he goes slow, sinking in inch by inch, allowing your walls to stretch and accommodate his size. His jaw clenches and his teeth grind together, his eyes falling shut. "That's it, sweet girl" he murmurs, slowly pushing further. "Just relax and let daddy in."

"Daddy" you whimper weakly, your cunt clenching and pulsing around him.

"Take my cock, baby. Just like that."

You're shaking and sweating, your is head spinning. The feeling of him pushing inside is like nothing you've ever felt before, even though you’ve taken him countless times. He's hot and hard, filling and stretching you to the point where you can barely breathe.

"So big" you choke out. "So full 'n sore, daddy" you cry, tears starting to stream down your face again.

"I know, honey. I know"

He bottoms out, his hips pressing flush against the cheeks of your ass. You gasp and sob, the feeling of him being fully seated inside of you and the stretch and burn overwhelming you. He gives you a minute to adjust, waiting until your breathing returns to normal and the shaking in your limbs subsides. When he feels you relax a bit, he pulls out, slowly dragging his length out until only the tip is left, before pushing back in.

"You're bein’ so sweet, baby. Lettin’ daddy use your tight little pussy."

You don’t say anything in response, just bury face into the sheets, grabbing handfuls of the fabrics as you sob.

He takes a deep breath and starts to move. Slowly, gently, he pulls out halfway and slides back in, his movements measured and precise. He wants to take his time, doesn't want to hurt you, but the tight squeeze of your cunt, the wetness and the heat and the slick, velvety walls clenching around him are making it difficult.

"More" you gasp. "Please, daddy, more. Need it. Need you."

And how could he deny you that? How could he not give you everything you want, everything you need? So, he sits up and slides his hands back to your hips, gripping them tightly and pulling you back onto him as he rolls his hips forward, the force and the angle making his cock slide over your g-spot. Your vision goes fuzzy, and the air leaves your lungs, and when you finally manage to gasp, his name falls from your lips.

"Fuck" he groans, the sound of his deep, raspy voice sending a rush of fresh wetness around his cock. He can't help but start thrusting into you, snapping his hips against yours, the obscene slapping noise of skin on skin filling the room. “Look at you, poor little baby cryin’ for my cock”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, just reaches up and tangles his hand in your hair, his other hand holding on tight to your waist, gripping the soft skin. He yanks, his fingers threaded through your hair and pulling you up, forcing your back to arch. The new angle makes your head spin, his cock dragging against your sensitive spot and his hips grinding against your ass.

"Daddy!" you gasp. You want to tell him how good it feels, how his cock is filling you up, his size stretching you and hitting places that have never been touched. You want to tell him that you're not sure you're ever going to be able to cum again without his thick cock splitting you open. But your mind is clouded, your body overwhelmed and your tongue heavy. The most you can manage is his name, over and over, a breathless, broken, raspy mantra.

"Yeah, baby" he grunts. "Take it just like that. My good girl takes everything I give her"

And you do.

You take and take and take and when you're not taking, you're begging. Begging for him to keep going, begging for more, begging him not to stop. And the more you beg, the faster his pace becomes, his hips stuttering against yours. And the faster he goes, the lighter you feel.

The fog that has settled in your brain is becoming thicker and heavier, and when you start to feel weightless, like you're floating, you realize you can't move. Your limbs are heavy, and all you can do is lay there, limp, useless, and completely at his mercy. Your ears start ringing faintly, and your body feels warm and tingly and the only thing keeping you tethered to reality is Joel.

"My good girl" he grunts "So fuckin' pretty. So beautiful like this. Just lettin' me use you like a goddamn little fuck toy, huh? Lettin' me fuckin' ruin you? You love it, don't you?"

You can't even respond. Can't form a sentence, can't form a single word. You're not even sure if you could make a noise. Your eyelids are fluttering, and your eyes roll back into your head, and the only thing keeping you from floating away is the pressure of Joel's hand around your waist. But soon that's not even enough to keep you grounded. Your entire body starts tingling and the ringing in your ears grows louder, and when Joel's thrusts become harder, his cock drilling into you with abandon, his balls slapping against you, and the obscene, wet noises of his cock pumping in and out of you filling the air, the tingling gets stronger, and your body begins to feel numb.

You start to slip, and with your face still turned to the side, Joel watches in awe as it happens.

The feeling is so intense, and when Joel's other hand grips your other side, holding you in place as he fucks you, it's enough to make you spiral. Your vision goes dark, and you stop hearing the sounds of skin slapping and the dirty things coming out of his mouth and the creaking of the bed and the squeak of the mattress springs. All you can feel is his thick cock filling you, the tip brushing against your cervix with each thrust, his balls hitting your clit, the heat of his body on top of yours, the heat of his skin searing into your back. You can feel the wetness leaking out of you and the tightening coil of desire low in your belly, pleasure so intense, all consuming. You float out of your body, time and space ceasing to exist. Your mind is completely wiped, your vision black with stars dancing across your field of view. You feel weightless, free.

And then there's nothing left. No more thoughts, no more feelings. Just bliss. Peace.

Just Joel.

There is nothing except the weight of Joel's body on top of yours and the pressure of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist, holding you in place while he fucks you. There's nothing else. Nothing. You can't even think anymore. Your mind is blank, empty, and the only thing that remains is the feeling of his body on top of yours, and the heat. God the heat.

He's hot.

You're hot.

So fucking hot.

Everything is white hot and it's too much. It's too much and not enough, and it's not long before your body starts tensing, and your toes curl and the muscles in your legs clench and spasm and the pressure builds, and builds, and builds. And you don't even know what's happening, can't even process it.

It's not until his fingers find your clit again when the orgasm hits, the first wave of pleasure crashing over you, riptides dragging you underneath. It's the strongest orgasm of your life, the strongest you've ever had, and it doesn't even end. It just keeps building and building, the waves continuing, and every time you think it's over, another wave comes crashing down on top of you, stronger than the last, the pleasure ripping through your body and leaving you trembling and twitching and writhing, tears rolling steadily down your cheeks.

"There you go, baby" Joel rasps. " Just let go. Let it take over. Cum all over daddy’s cock."

It's like his words are an instruction manual, and you have no choice but to follow his command. The second he says it, you feel the tight coil inside your belly snap, the pressure releasing and flooding your veins, a tsunami of euphoria washing over you and dragging you deeper and deeper into the ocean.

"I'm gonna fill this greedy little pussy up again, sweetheart" he growls, his thrusts becoming erratic and his rhythm faltering. "Know how much you love it when it's drippin' out of you. Know how much you love the mess, my filthy, desperate, little cockslut"

You can't hear him, the sound of his voice too fuzzy and distant. You can't speak, your body and mind still floating, the world spinning and the darkness threatening to take over, to consume you, and the only thing that grounds you is the feeling of his skin on yours.

"Gonna cum inside you. Gonna pump that pussy full, gonna fuckin’ breed you, sweetheart”

And just like that, he does. He slams his cock into you one last time, bottoming out and burying himself inside you, the tip of his cock pressed right up against your cervix, his thick cockhead kissing the opening of your womb.

"Please, daddy" It's all you can manage to get out, and even though it's quiet, and barely a whisper, it's enough to send him over the edge.

"Fuck" he rasps, his cock throbbing and pulsing, his hips twitching as his cum floods your cunt. "That's it, take it, baby. Take all of it. Let it fill you up nice and good."

He collapses on top of you, his body flush with yours, his face buried in your hair, his breathing shallow and labored. He's panting, the rise and fall of his chest and the beating of his heart the only things that keep you from falling into the darkness. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, the heat of his skin against yours. He's warm and solid and he smells good, and it's comforting and safe and secure.

"Fuck" he breathes, the warmth of his exhale tickling the skin behind your ear. "Are you okay?"

His voice is quiet, concerned, and you can't even nod, let alone answer him, but when his lips find the pulse point in your neck, the light press of his soft lips sending a wave of relief through your body, the darkness receding and the fog clearing, the only thing that passes your lips is a shaky sigh.

"I got you, darlin'" he whispers, nuzzling the side of your face. "I'm here."

"Joel" you mumble, voice weak and watery. It's all you're able to get out, but it's enough.

"I know" he murmurs, his mouth finding the skin just below your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the sensitive spot. "I know. I'm here, baby. I'm not going anywhere. Not ever. I promise."

He sits up and pulls his softened cock out, watching as his cum leaks from your stretched out pussy. He groans, sliding his hands up and down your thighs, his eyes drinking in the sight.

"Messy girl" he murmurs, swiping his fingers through the pool of wetness dripping from your cunt. "Look at all this. My cum leakin' outta your sloppy little cunt”

You can only whimper softly, your thighs closing around his hand. He takes the hint and removes it, wet fingers smoothing over your hipbone.

He moves to lie next you again, his hand wraps around your waist and pulls you against his body, the feeling of his bare chest pressed to yours and the soft brush of his lips on your hairline is enough to keep you tethered to reality. The two of you stay there for a while and your breathing synchs to the rhythm of his before he talks again.

"You went somewhere, didn't you?" he murmurs. His voice is a little husky, a little raspy, and his accent is a little thicker than usual. "Somewhere far away."

"Yeah" is all you can manage to say. You're not quite sure if it's a question or a statement, and either way, you're not even sure how to explain it.

"Was it a good place?"

"Mhm" you nod, the memories of the feeling coming back to you, the way your body felt like it was floating and the way everything just disappeared and the way everything went black and how you could barely breathe. "So good, Joel"

"Yeah? You liked that?"

Another nod.

"You want that again, honey?"

"Yeah" you say quietly. "Want you to push me. Make me cry, make me feel it."

"Mmm, think I can do that again, sweetheart” Joel assures, squeezing you a bit tighter.

"And tell me I'm yours” you add softly.

"You’re mine, sweet girl. You belong to me, and only me."

"And no one else's."

"No one else's" he repeats.

"Say it."

"You're mine. And no one else's."

"Thank you."

"Anything for you, darlin’. Now let’s get you cleaned up”

You whine in protest, not wanting to move a muscle as he rolls off the bed. But then he scoops you up into his arms, his strong arms under your knees and your back.

"What are you doing?" you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Can't have you walkin'" he replies. "You can barely open your eyes, I ain't about to let you fall on your ass."

He's right, of course. Your legs feel weak and shaky, and the second he lets go of you, you're not sure you'd be able to stay standing. But he doesn't let go, not even when you're both in the shower and he sets you down on the bench under the warm stream. His strong hands rub soap into your skin, lathering and washing away the sweat and the stickiness, and by the time the suds have rinsed away, the water is turning cold.

"We're gonna have to fix that" he mutters.

"Fix what?"

"This shit water heater."

You hum, the vibrations buzzing against his chest. He turns the water off and reaches for a big, fluffy towel, wrapping it around you and rubbing the fabric over your skin, drying you off. You brush your teeth together, smiling at each other in the mirror, Joel wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side.

"Joel?" you start after setting your toothbrush back in the cup.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

The smile on his face is soft and sweet and his eyes crinkle in the corners.

"I love you too, angel. Now, you stay right here, I'm gonna go strip the bed and I'll be right back, okay?"

You sit on the closed toilet seat lid, wrapped in your fluffy towel. Your eyes are heavy and droopy as you watch him out in your shared bedroom, pulling the soaked sheets off the bed and switching them for fresh ones as fast as he can. He picks out the white ones with the little blue flowers. The ones he knows are your favorite. You're exhausted and spent and satisfied, and the sight of him doing the most domestic task is almost enough to bring more tears to your eyes. You're not sure why, but the emotions are overwhelming, and you have to take a deep breath, steadying yourself.

He carries you back to bed, pulling the comforter over you and propping the pillows up behind you so you can lean back comfortably.

"Gonna go get some food, kay?" he finds the TV remote on the nightstand and hands it to you. "Here. Find something for us to watch. I'll be right back, don't you go anywhere, y'hear?"

"Yes, sir" you mumble, taking the remote and giving him a mock salute.

He shakes his head and laughs, then presses a kiss to your forehead before heading downstairs. The room is quiet when he leaves, the only sound left being the rain still steadily pounding against the window. You take it in, the quiet moment all to yourself. The smell of sex and sweat and his cologne and your body wash still lingers in the air, and you can still feel the tingling of your skin where his mouth and his hands had been, where his fingers and his teeth and his tongue had marked and claimed and branded you. You can still feel him everywhere. His breath on your skin, the ghost of his lips and his tongue. His hands gripping your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, the memory of the pain making your cunt ache.

He returns before your thoughts can wander too far, a plate filled with food in his hands, and a grin taking up over half of his face.

"Reheated your breakfast that you should've been eatin' damn near two hours ago" he teases, handing the plate over. "My special omelet. And toast."

He crawls onto the bed next to you, leaning back against the pillows and stretching his long legs out, then takes the plate back from you. He picks up a piece of the toast and holds it to your lips.

"Open" he orders.

You roll your eyes. "I can feed myself, Joel." But the second you see the look on his face, you open your mouth, letting him place the bread on your tongue.

"I know" he smirks. "But I can feed you, too."

"Thank you" you mumble around the bread, the corner of your mouth turned up.

"Anything for you, darlin'"

You eat the omelet in bites off the fork that he holds and the toast from his hand. He makes sure to place the plate carefully to catch all the crumbs too. And when the plate is empty, he sets it down on the nightstand, trading it for the tall glass of ice water with one of your favorite straws.

"Drink" he instructs. You obey and he watches you the whole time, only taking back the cup when he's satisfied with how much you take.

"That's my good girl" he purrs, reaching over to the nightstand for the bottle of your favorite lotion. "My good, good girl."

He squeezes some of the lotion into his palm, the smell of strawberries filling the air, and he starts rubbing it into your skin. He starts with your hands, massaging each finger, gently pressing down on your knuckles until they pop. He knows you hate it but he loves the noises, and the way your nose scrunches up is adorable. Then he moves to your arms, squeezing your bicep before rubbing his hands over your shoulders, down the slope of your back, and then up the front, working the cream into your neck, your collarbone, the tops of your shoulders, and then over the swell of your breasts. He massages them, kneading the tender flesh, rolling your nipples between his fingers, and when the lotion is rubbed in and your skin is soft and dewy, he leans down and wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking gently and pulling a soft gasp from your lips.

"Joel" you whimper, the feeling of his warm mouth on your sensitive skin and his rough beard scratching at your chest making your sore, aching pussy throb.

"Mmhmm, darlin'?"

"Kiss me"

He does as he’s told, his lips soft and gentle when they meet yours. It's nothing like the rough, frantic kisses from earlier, the bruising press of his lips against yours, the desperate clash of teeth. This time, it's a tender kiss, a brush of lips and a gentle caress. His lips are featherlight on yours, his breath sweet on your tongue, the taste of the peach tea he loves so much flooding your mouth, the flavor reminding you of the fading summer.

He pulls away and looks at you with the dopiest grin

"What?" you laugh.

"Nothin'" he replies, the smile still not fading.

"No, not nothing. What is it? Why are you smiling like that?"

"Just happy, darlin. Now pick somethin’ to watch.'"

Your cheeks heat and turn red, and you can't help the small smile that stretches across your lips or the giggle that escapes when he wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer. You're nestled into his side, his arm wrapped around you and his chin resting on top of your head. You grab the remote and click through all options. Joel groans from above you when you settle on your final choice.

"Moana? Again? That's like the third time this week."

You just giggle and snuggle up closer to him, your cheek smushed against his warm, bare chest as the opening scene starts to play.

"I love you" you whisper, your warm breath diffusing across his skin.

"Love you, too, baby."

You close your eyes, the warmth of his body and the steady beating of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the comforting feeling of being cradled against him lulling you to sleep. This is heaven, and you're sure of it.

sometimes I wonder if there's something seriously wrong with me. Then I realize that I'm just ovulating. Thank you for reading, lemme know if you enjoyed it hehehe I love you all soo much!!

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters

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leighsartworks216 · 8 months

Text

In The Moonlight

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Lowkey wrote this for @niermortem bc the Astarion hyperfixation goes hard

I've never written for Astarion before and I'm still not 100% comfortable with his speech patterns and stuff but I had to write this or I would not be able to sleep tonight. Tbh y'all are lucky he even spoke at all. I was going to have Tav shush him lmao

Warnings: Cazador, mentions of past abuse, mentions of biting, vague implications of sex, like one swear

Word Count: 1,110

Masterlist

AO3

He’s so beautiful, just like this. The moon reaches through the window and caresses his hair, turning already-bright white into pure starlight. His pale skin glows. And when the sun rises and casts beams of yellow-orange over him, it’s almost as if blood flows through him once more.

You cannot sleep. Despite how tired your body was, your mind couldn’t sit still. It pondered over the day’s events - if you made the right choices, what you could have done better, your companions - endlessly spiraling out of sleep’s embrace. And you would still have been going over these questions and concerns, if Astarion did not look so damn pretty.

He fell asleep a while ago. With a gentle kiss to your cheek and a whisper of thanks, he’d tucked one arm under his head and draped the other across your waist, and drifted off. A hint of a smile still lingered there. Creases by his mouth and eyes proving a simple joy that followed him into his dreams.

It felt wrong to watch him like this. Like studying how his curls fell across his forehead and the flicker of his eyes behind his eyelids was in some way betraying his trust. The thought alone - of ruining this beautiful foundation of trust and patience and understanding - should have been enough to have you close your eyes or turn away. And yet, something inside you yearned for more. An ache in your chest that urged you to touch him, to be closer to him.

And the urge was stronger than your perceived guilt.

Slowly, you raised a hand to his face. At first, all you did was brush the curl from his forehead. The stubborn thing only bounced right back.

Your eyes trailed from his hair to his eyebrows. So often did a crease find its way between them, pinched in frustration or confusion. Your hand followed. With the barest brush of your thumb, you smoothed out the imaginary crease. Astarion breathed in deeply - causing you to hold your own - before sighing softly. His face relaxed even more, shoulders easing into the pillows that cushioned him.

You focused next on his eyes. Deep, bloody red irises hidden behind thin lids that held so much worry and uncertainty and joy and hope. Hope. It had taken so long for the vampire to actually be optimistic about the future. He had no idea what would happen next - between Cazador and the tadpoles, there was little to be optimistic about. When you helped him, despite his original plans to manipulate and use you, he realized things did not always have such awful outcomes. Even your first encounter, with his blade to your throat, had somehow brought you here, together and warm and safe.

Despite being an elf, he had such deep bags beneath his eyes. Even the crows feet and laugh lines that appeared with his smile were unusual. He’d told you sparingly about his life under Cazador. The things he fed on, the poem carved into his back, and the horrible things he did. Undoubtedly, the lines came from that time. Barely eating enough to survive, luring people in with his charms for an uncaring master, being tortured in the dark. Yet, you couldn’t imagine Astarion without them. He was so pretty when he smiled.

You move on to his nose and his cheeks. His features are all well defined, sharp. It makes him seem dangerous, even at a first glance. Like a snake, hiding fangs behind shimmering scales.

Beckoned by the analogy, your eyes flicker to his lips. They’re so soft, despite the way he chews his bottom lip. Where before his kisses were rough, demanding, now they’re slow, careful. He no longer kisses you like he has to woo you over and get you to play his game. He kisses you like he’s savoring the last drop of wine. Even his bites are gentler, pricking your neck as carefully as he can unless you ask him nicely to be rougher.

“Too distracted to sleep, are we?”

His voice makes you jolt. You weren’t expecting his lips to move so suddenly. Nor did you realize before how your hand cupped his jaw and your thumb stroked his cheek. You can feel his smile as he chuckles.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, my dear,” he coos. “But don’t you think it’s a bit late to be admiring my features?”

You take a moment to compose yourself, urging your heart to still from the scare. Damn you for thinking so much about his mouth. Astarion is nice enough to wait and listen as you relax once more, though you continue to trace over his skin and brush the curls in front of his ears back.

“I couldn’t sleep. And you look so beautiful in the moonlight.”

He slips his arm from underneath his head as he turns into your hand, holding your wrist in place as he kisses your palm. “I appreciate it, my love. But it’s been a long and exhausting day, and we both need our beauty rest.”

Red eyes watch, half-lidded, as you smile - he loves it just as much as you love his. Before, he couldn’t care less. Now, oh the things he would do to see you happy every waking moment of the rest of your lives.

The blankets shift against each other as you move to be closer. You tuck yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso and pressing your face into his neck. You are so warm. He lets out a soft breath as he curls around you, protective and safe all at once. Slender fingers tangle carefully into the hair at the nape of your neck, keeping your head tucked away under his chin.

For so long, he charmed and manipulated people. They touched and got close to him, in ways he quickly detached himself from. For so long. It was still difficult to fathom how he sought it out with you. How he did not go through the motions of physical intimacy, how he actually wanted to be physically intimate in more ways than just sexually. How long he’d been deprived of something genuine like this. He wanted to savor every gods-forsaken minute of it.

Your warm breath fanned across his neck as you spoke. Had he been able to, it would have sent a chill down his spine.

“I love you.”

His fingers curl into your waist, grounding himself into your body as your skin gives under his fingertips. In return, you squeeze him in your hold, solidifying even more that this is real. You are real.

“I love you, too, darling.”

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undertheorangetree · 9 months

Text

Urgency

Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Warnings: MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Possessive/jealous sex. Against a wall lmao. Vaginal fingering. Mild exhibitionism. Reader is purposely riling him up. He calls her a whore but in a fun way.

Author’s Note: You can find the full fic on AO3 the link is below plz feel free to let me know what you think :))

The queen had spared no expense on her son’s nameday, that much is clear the moment she walks into the hall. Perhaps Prince Aegon had been involved in his own party planning as well, as there are flagons upon flagons of wine, ale, cider, and even a few vials of absinthe lining the walls of the great hall alongside all the mountains of food. It is the first party that she has experienced since marrying Prince Aemond six moons passed and she doubts she will ever see anything so extravagant ever again. She does not think even her wedding compared to this, with all the finery and gold and jewels that seem to be everywhere her turns.

She too had done her best to dress up for the occasion. She had been gifted a beautiful Lysene gown two moons ago, a pretty blue thing made of silk and chiffon, full of layers and very low cut. It showed off far more of her breast than she is used to and is too thin to wear a shift beneath. She had been unsure about it at first but now that she stood amongst all the lords and ladies of the court, she feels as though she fits right in. And besides, she has other plans for this gown besides simple fashion.

Her husband has been ignoring her. She does not know if he truly noticed it himself, but she had seen little and less of him these past few weeks. Running countless errands with the excuse of duty, squeezing in training and dragonriding whenever he is given space enough to breath. She thinks she has only really seen him when he collapses in their bed at night, pressing a tired kiss to her cheek before falling asleep just as his head hits the pillow. There has been no time allotted for her and though she does not blame him for it- she had noticed rather quickly that he has a tendency to be very one track minded- she will not allow for it to stand any longer.

So she had decided to wear her new blue dress to show him just what he has been missing out on. To remind him that his wife is young and beautiful and here and needed more from him than a half mumbled goodnight.

And, much to her delight, he seems to notice immediately. She watches elated as his eye widens almost comically at her approach, roving over her as if he can’t quite believe that she’s real. It is not difficult to ignore him as he has her, instead making her way to stand before Aegon. She wishes him a happy nameday, endures the drunken, lazy smile he gives her as he assures her it is a very happy day indeed, before skirting around the table to sit by Aemond’s side. She does not deign to look at him, staring straight ahead at the crowd before them, and lets out a heavy sigh. His eye had been boring into the side of her face but it darts down then, watches as her breasts rise and fall with her breath, and she suppresses the urge to look too smug.

Aemond has always been good at keeping himself composed and so she expected him to have more resolve, to sit and stare for only the Gods know how long while he quietly seethed. So she is almost surprised when she feels his hand close around the back of her chair, leaning in close only a few moments after she has sat down.

“What are you wearing?” he manages to ask, grit out between clenched teeth.

She smiles, doing what she can to seem oblivious as she turns to look at him, head tilted. “Do you like it? I wasn’t sure which one to wear but my maid and I narrowed it down to this and the purple dress from Qarth. Do you remember it? Should I have worn that one instead?”

The question is rhetorical, as he knows very well which dress she is talking about. An ambassador from the Free Cities had arrived with a whole host of gifts for the royal family, including two massive crates filled with dresses for herself and Helaena. The pretty Lysene dress she wore now had been among them, along with gowns from Bravvos, Meereen, Essos, and the like. She had forced Aemond to sit and watch as she tried them all on, the latest fashions from all over the eastern world. The purple Qartheen dress had been particularly memorable to him as there was only enough fabric in the bodice to cover one breast, the other bared entirely. He had deemed the show over at that point and had fucked her against the wall to show his appreciation for the gown.

She bites her lip to suppress a grin when his face flushes red at the memory, his knuckles gone white around the knife’s handle in his hand. She swears she can hear the wood creak under his grip on her seat as well and doesn’t think she would be surprised if it cracked under his hand.

Her head cocks in the opposite direction as she hums, wordless encouragement to answer her previous question, but she isn’t entirely sure he is listening to her anymore. His eye has darted down again, tracing along the lines of her gown and she indulges him, pushing her chest out a little farther. It is almost funny, how she has reduced him to this. He almost reminds her of Aegon in this moment, a comparison she knows he would loathe. And though it is unkind and she knows that she should keep her torture confined to this alone, she want to see how far she can push him. It has been weeks-three, to be exact- since they had an intimate moment alone together and her patience for abstinence has worn thin. If this is her moment to ensure that her husband’s attention is on her entirely, then she is going to leap at it.

She does not have to wait long for her first opportunity to present itself. Lord Erwin Lannister, some second or third cousin off the main branch of the family tree, has come forward to offer good tidings and the moment he is done with Aegon, he sets his sights on her. Despite the fact that Aemond is practically limp across her lap, little Lord Lannister approaches with his head held high, offering them both a polite bow. The way he takes in her gown, however, is anything but polite, eyes hungry as he stares.

“My lady, it would be an honour to have your first dance of the evening, if you would indulge me.”

Aemond’s mouth twists immediately. “I would think that honour should go to the lady’s husband, should it not?”

The confidence Lord Erwin had arrived with falters at her husband’s tone, but she is not about to allow this opportunity to pass her by. Not without putting up some kind of fight.

“But you’ve been so busy, my love,” she laments, pressing a loving hand to his chest. “You should rest. I’m sure my Lord Lannister would be more than happy to dance with me, would you not, my lord?”

“Of course, my lady,” Lord Erwin agrees, likely far faster than he should have.

She graces the young lord with a smile before turning to press a kiss to Aemond’s cheek. She flits away quickly, standing and joining Lord Erwin on the floor. It takes everything in her not to look back at him, not to revel in the way he is surely seething at the loss of her attention.

Luck continues to be on her side, as the dance the musicians are playing requires her to stand quite close to Lord Erwin. The dance is one she knows well, so she does not need to think as she follows the steps. Instead, she dares to glance toward Aemond as she dances around the young lord, hardly paying him any mind as she watches her husband. She does not think Lord Erwin minds, as he is staring at her chest so single mindedly she does not think he would hear her should she speak to him. Aemond’s gaze is even more intense. His eye is trained on her as if he cannot bare to turn away, his mouth twisted and face drawn in a way she can’t quite describe. She recognizes the rage in his eye when it shifts from her to Lord Erwin, face hardening further, and she turns to face her partner.

“Are you enjoying the fete, my lord?” She asks, keeping her voice low so that there is no risk of Aemond hearing.

Despite his initial confidence, he looks almost shocked that she is speaking to him now and has to take a moment before responding, likely trying to decipher what it is she has just said. “Yes, my lady. Are you?”

She presses a little closer to him as the dance requires, eyes darting up to catch sight of Aemond and his clenched jaw before she turns back to the young lord and smiles. “Oh, yes. I am enjoying it immensely.”

She dances four more dances with separate partners before Lord Erwin returns, his confidence returning now that he believes Aemond will not be storming in to throw him aside. And Aemond does not turn away from her the entire time, his eye boring into her so fiercely she thinks it would cause anyone else to shy away. But not her. Instead, it takes everything in her to keep her smirk at bay, chest light as pride bursts through her.

“If I may be so bold, my lady, you look particularly beautiful this evening. Is this a new dress?” Lord Erwin asks, eyes once again locked on her chest.

“It is, my lord. Thank you. It is my husband’s favourite, I think.”

Though Lord Erwin opens his mouth to respond, a voice cuts him off before he can, a rough hand clasping around her elbow. “We’re going to retire for the evening.”

Lord Erwin is forgotten immediately as she turns toward her husband, smiling politely. “We have barely been here an hour, husband. Surely it is poor manners to leave so soon.”

“We’re leaving,” he repeats, much more stern this time.

Read the rest here :)

#Aemond Targaryen x reader #Aemond x reader #Aemond Targaryen smut #Aemond smut #Aemond Targaryen x you #Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #house of the dragon

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bluebblurry · 1 year

Text

The Bad Boys and their soulmates

(Someone already made something like this but i wanna write my own lmao.)

“Etho.” Joel nearly spat out the name like it was poisonous. It no longer came with a soft gaze, but rather his own reflection in pitch black sunglasses. Joel’s bangs covered his eyebrows, and his mouth was set in an indifferent line. How was Etho supposed to read him like this..?

“Hi Joel!” Etho greeted anyway, his voice chipper and smiley. “I’m likin’ the leather vest. It really works for you.”

Joel huffed, his sword disappearing from his hand. He didn’t blush, like he used to when Etho would compliment him, only kept the same guarded expression.

How dare he keep playing with my emotions like this! Joel quietly seethed. Etho was being cruel– pitying him. Joel clenched his fists. He knew he never meant anything to Etho, they had been stuck together. So why, oh why, did Etho have to keep hurting him like this?

“Etho,” Joel tried again, his voice darker this time, “once I hit red, you are done for.” It was both a threat and a promise.

Etho smirked, nothing innocent in his eyes. “Hmm.. you gonna ravish me with charged Red passion..?” He teased. He knew Joel didn’t mean it like that, but he was desperately hoping it would break whatever wall Joel was trying to build between them.

Joel didn’t even react. At least, that’s how it seemed to Etho. Joel’s insides were burning, with excitement or anger he wasn’t sure. He scoffed. “Just watch your back.” He nearly growled.

The air was charged with buzzing static, and Etho hated it.

*****

“Jimmy!” Jimmy heard his name being whisper-shouted. He glanced at his two teammates asleep in the triple bed. If it wasn’t them, then who would be calling for him in the middle of the night??

“Jim!!” The voice spoke again, a little louder. Jimmy’s sleep-deprived mind raced through the list of server members, trying to think of who could possibly need him. He huffed quietly, figuring it was someone looking for an easy prank target. Until..

“My rancher, are you up there..?”

It was Tango.

IT WAS TANGO!!

Jimmy bolted out of bed and nearly sprinted to the edge of the roof. He peered over the edge, and sure enough, there was his rancher, looking cute and very dapper in a red button down, black waistcoat, and matching black bowtie.

Jimmy smiled brightly and jumped down, water bucket in hand. He landed (not-so-gracefully) in front of Tango, instantly running up and tackling him in a giant bear hug.

Jimmy couldn’t fly here, but his wings wrapped around Tango, encasing him in a golden yellow double hug. He buried his face in the blaze’s neck, melting when he felt Tango start to purr. His tail curled around Jimmy’s ankles, just as gentle and soft as it’s always been.

Timmy and Tango had agreed not to team this season, but that didn’t stop them from missing each other.

*****

They made peace with their desert a long time ago, but they both knew they’d never have that same connection again. Especially after Grian’s.. choices in Double Life.

Scar stared up at the stupid woodland mansion, flint and steel in hand. He was still bitter. Maybe he should be going after Big B too, but Grian.. how could he just do that to him..? Sure, things weren’t the same as in Third Life, but did he really mean that little to Grian?

“Scar..?” He heard a whisper from the tree line. He whipped around, seeing the very avian he’d just been thinking of. Though, Grian didn’t look the same here. The white button down he’d taken to wearing under his sweater was gone, taking away the nice little nod to Mumbo that Scar liked to think of it as. He had a leather jacket, too big and too edgy for him. The dark glasses on top of his head were odd to see against his normally fluffy blond hair.

Grian didn’t look right like this.. without a red and white poncho and sand goggles.

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charlewiss-writes · 1 year

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(bad at) keeping secrets / charles leclerc

masterlist

day 8: hide (part of one-word november prompts!)

summary: charles and you were seeing eachother for quite some time, but still couldn't quite figure out how to tell your brother, pierre. (and maybe you don't need to)

word count: 0.6k

pairing: charles leclerc x gasly!reader

warnings: not proofread! also, badly translated french lmao

charles and you had met in the early days of his career, back when he was still racing in karts just like your brother, pierre. you and your family spent your whole days accompanying your older brother who, just as charles', couldn't see himself doing any other thing that wish to be part of the formula 1 world one day.

eventually, all three of you grew up, still together. even though you spend less time with them due to their tight schedules, you hangout just enough to catch feelings for the monegasque. still, you were always too scared to do anything with charles, not wanting to disrupt the friendship the two boys had since they were kids.

but the more you tried to stay away from him, the closest you became. it's like you two were attracted like magnets. so now, three months after starting to see eachother, he was in your apartment in only his sweatpants after a night together. it was a sunday, and due to it being an off-week for him, you two were taking advantage of the little time you had together watching a movie on the tv while laying on your bed.

until your heard the sound of keys on your door lock. you got up and looked at charles, confused because you weren't expecting anyone, and found it strange that the person who was trying to get in had the keys in the first place. you thought that maybe a neighbor had got the apartment doors messed up since they looked all the same, but you quickly recognised the voice that reached your ears.

"ma colombe (my dove), you home?"

charles, who was close to falling asleep a second ago, had almost fallen to the floor, caught off guard by his best friend's presence. you had been keeping your relationship a secret until now, not knowing how or when was the right time to tell pierre that you had been seeing his best friend, despite his general warnings to not mess with any drivers -especially the monegasque-.

"please stay here and hide. i'll get him out as soon as i can" you whispered to him, giving the boy a quick peek on the lips before fixing your hoodie. that wasn't even yours in the first place. god, you hoped pierre didn't notice. "yes, i'm home" you said, closing the door as fast as you could, so he wouldn't see who was inside. "what are you doing here?"

"great to see you two" he huffed. you hadn't mean to come off as annoyed to him, knowing that this was off of character for you, who had always had a soft spot for your big brother. he continued "maman said you had forgotten a jacket, and since your house was on the way to mine i decided that I should drop it off" he said calmly, while handling you the piece of clothing. you smiled and nodded thanking him, but didn't say anything else. "what is it, chère (dear), something wrong?" he asked, now worried due to your lack of interaction. in a normal situation, you would have invited him to lunch, maybe talk a bit about how his last race went. but your silence made him suspicious. "sorry, I was quite busy back there, I was just working" you quickly answered. maybe too quickly.

"working in your bedroom?" pierre asked, switching his stare to the door where you had came from. "if you were working, why are you so flustered?"

"i-i'm not" your cheeks immediately flushed pink, and you knew that if he continued to ask questions, you'll be fucked. "okay okay, if you say. see you at maman'š'" you took a long breath, filling your lungs after holding your breath for a bit too long. but just when he was about to disappear through the door, you heard his voice, full of mischief, while screaming out loud "also, tell charles he needs to get a more subtle car if he doesn't want to be seen".

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charlewiss writing challenge #one word november prompts #user charlewiss #f1 x y/n #f1 x yn #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x yn

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ghostfaceorgirlfriend · 1 year

Text

Someone Else ; Ethan Landry

summary: you had been holding onto your relationship with chad, afraid to let go even though you both had feelings for other people, but now that you’ve reached your breaking point you are ready to move on

pairing(s): Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader, Chad Meeks-Martin x Fem!Reader (mostly past tense)

warnings: angst, breakups, crying, angst, fluff, not proofread, possibly ooc ethan, chad kinda being an ass, kissing.

notes: if only he wasn’t literally psychotic lmao, but we are just gonna pretend for this one guys…

no ghostface/non-ghostface ethan

2k words

masterlist requests

———————————————————————————

This was your last straw.

You were currently standing outside of the library in the pouring rain. The building had closed over 30 minutes ago, yet Chad had yet to pick you up as he had promised. You tried calling him, but after the third time, you gave up, letting out a sigh.

The truth was that you and Chad should have broken up months ago. You both knew this, yet neither one of you had taken the final step, never daring to cross over that line and into unfamiliar territory.

Although you fought most of the time, and you barely even wanted to touch each other, it was still familiar.

It was safe.

You don’t know why you had even expected Chad to show up. A part of you thought you owed it to yourself to try one last time with him. You had been through so much together, and he was all you had known for the past two years.

Though as you stood in the rain, shivering from the cool New York breeze you tried to be honest with yourself.

Not only had you and Chad drifted away from each other since you moved to college, but you also had both developed feelings for someone else.

You saw the way Chad looked at Tara. He was happy, and you couldn't blame him.

You had simply fallen out of love with each other and fallen into the hands of other people.

You felt like you were finally accepting that, and as if on cue Chad's name lit up on your phone screen.

“Hello.” You answered, your voice calmer than Chad had been expecting.

“I-I just remembered I was supposed to pick you up!” His voice sounded tired and you could hear the faint sound of a girl in the back.

It wasn’t hard for you to connect the dots…he had fallen asleep at Tara’s.

“Chad, what are we even doing?” You couldn't hold it together anymore.

You were both miserable.

There was a long silence on the other end as Chad processed your words.

“W-What are you talking about.” he knew exactly what you had meant.

You slowly shook your head in frustration, “We fight all the time and can barely stand being around each other. You spend more time at Tara’s than you do at your own dorm and I-” you paused for a moment, debating if you should bring up Ethan.

“And you're always with Ethan.” Chad finished your sentence.

Tears pricked your eyes and you almost laughed at how stupid this all felt, “Why are we torturing ourselves by staying together when we both love someone else?” you could begin to feel a weight lift from your chest as the words slipped past your lips.

Chad knew you were right.

“You really love him?” His voice was gentle, and you knew he wasn't upset.

“Yes, and I know you love her.” A tear rolled down your cheek, mixing with the rain that was still falling down onto your face.

You could hear Chad take a deep breath, “We should both let ourselves be happy then. We deserve happiness.”

Despite what the tears on your cheeks might say, you weren't sad.

You were relieved.

“We do.” the weight had almost been completely lifted off your chest, “Goodbye Chad.”

You hit the end button and suddenly there was no weight left to bear. Your tears were gone and the only thing you had on your mind was calling Ethan.

You didn't waste any time before you clicked on his contact. It had only taken a few rings before you heard his voice.

“Hey, everything okay?” You could hear the subtle concern that wrapped its way around his tone given how late it was.

For the first time in months, you felt like you could genuinely answer the question. You were more than okay. You were free.

“Yeah, I'm okay,” a cold shiver ran down your body, “I know it's late, but could you come to pick me up? I’m outside of the library and it's pouring rain and I'd rather not walk home in the dark. Chad was supposed to come but-” you weren't even able to finish your sentence before Ethan was interrupting you.

“I’m on my way.” You could hear the disappointment in his voice.

He hated these nights. Ethan would come to your rescue and piece you back together just so you could fall back into the same routine the next day. He didn't mind being there for you, but it was getting increasingly hard to push down the feelings that surfaced every time he was around you.

All he wanted was for you to be happy…with him.

It was only a few minutes before you could see the headlights on Ethan's car approach the front of the library.

“Thank god.” you whispered to yourself as you weren't sure how much longer you were going to last in the cold.

Your whole body had been shivering by the time you were opening the car door, though you hesitated before getting in.

“I-I don’t wanna get water on your seats.” Your clothes were soaking wet and you were sure it would leave a mess in the nice car.

As soon as he saw your shivering figure standing at the door of the car he could feel anger start bubbling up within him.

He would never understand how Chad just seemed to forget about you most of the time, and he wasn’t sure why you continued to take it.

“Get in, I don't care about the seats.” His voice came out a bit rougher than he intended.

You tried not to overthink the unusual roughness that his voice held as you got into the car and closed the door.

Ethan quickly turned the heat up in the car, hoping it would help you stop shivering, but it wasn't much good as your clothes were still freezing cold.

“Thanks for coming.” You felt a sudden nervousness you had never felt around the boy before.

Ethan tried to take a calming breath, but he couldn't shake the fact that he was upset. Seeing you like this, a shivering mess in his car, made him want to go find Chad himself and knock some kind of sense into him.

“It's fine.” The frustration he was feeling seeped into his words.

You could now clearly tell that he was upset and you understood why. He was stuck cleaning up Chad's mess, and up until this point you had fallen right back into your relationship every time, no matter what Chad had said or done.

As he pulled his car back by his dorm building, you wanted nothing more than to tell him what had happened before he arrived.

You wanted to tell him that you and Chad had ended things and that you loved him. However, no matter how hard you tried, every time you saw the hard expression on his face the words couldn't seem to make their way past your lips.

You silently followed Ethan up to his dorm.

It wasn’t until you had both stepped inside that Ethan finally spoke again.

“I’ll get you some clean clothes.” He avoided eye contact, afraid that if he were to look at you then he would say something he couldn't take back.

You didn't say anything, but instead just waited until he handed the clothes to you.

Without another word, you made your way into the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror and the sight certainly wasn't pretty.

You had dried mascara running down your cheeks and your hair had seen better days.

You peeled off the wet clothes and placed them in the shower, hoping they would dry overnight.

You quickly threw on the clothes Ethan had brought you before washing the black streaks of mascara off your face and brushing out your tangles.

Meanwhile, Ethan was sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.

He felt like everything he had been feeling for the past 4 months had come to the surface and refused to go back down. He wanted to tell you how he felt, but he wasn't sure he was prepared to face the consequences that would come after his confession.

“E?” Your gentle voice filled the air in his bedroom, making him look up, finally making eye contact with you.

“I can’t keep doing this, Y/n. I-I can’t keep watching you go back to him. I jus-” You stopped him before he could stay anything else.

You were now sitting beside him on the bed, “Ethan,” you gently laced your fingers together with his, “We broke up. It's over.”

His eyes were wide and confusion filled his entire body, “W-What?”

You gave his hand a tight squeeze, “We fell out of love a long time, okay, I guess we were just both scared to let go,” you carefully chose your next words, “We both have feelings for someone else…I have feelings for someone else.”

Ethan felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

“You do?” suddenly he was hyper-aware of the feeling of your hand in his.

"I love you, and I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to tell you that. I’ve dragged you along for so much shit, and it hasn't been fair to you” Your own heart felt like it might explode.

You were terrified of the words that were going to come next. You were terrified you might lose your best friend and that it was too late.

You hoped you had not missed your window.

“I love you too.” A smile found its way onto his face as the words hung in the air.

He loved you

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” You let out a soft laugh before you brought your lips to his. Ethan followed your lead, unsure of what exactly to do.

Warmth blossomed in your chest as your lips moved tentatively together. His lips were warm and soft as they parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slip past his lips and into his mouth. You both let out a satisfied hum at the sensation.

You wished you could stay like this forever, but you knew you would eventually have to come up for air so you slowly pulled away, lips pink and swollen.

Your heart had never felt more full than it did at this moment.

“W-Was that okay?” Ethan asked nervously.

You brought your hand up to his face, rubbing your thumb across his cheek, “It was perfect.”

Relief washed over his face as he laughed at his own awkwardness.

“Who knew you'd be such a good kisser.” You smiled jokingly.

“Shut up.” He playfully rolled his eyes at you before pulling you down onto the bed next to him.

It only took a few minutes for exhaustion to creep its way into your body, and you could barely hold your eyes open by the time Ethan had pulled the covers over you both and turned you over so you could lay on his chest.

“I love you.” Ethan whispered before planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.

A tired smile formed on your lips, “I love you too, E.”

Between the rhythmic beating of Ethan's heart and his thumb gently rubbing circles on your arm, sleep came quickly.

The last thought crossing your mind before slipping into unconsciousness was that you had finally gotten the happiness you deserve.

All because of him.

#scream #scream vi #ghostface #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #jack champion

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niki-phoria · 1 year

Note

Hi! I just imagined how chishiya would react when reader is asleep and kicks him out of the bed. I think it would be really funny. Could you do a reaction? Its okay if you don't have time!

i love him sm here the cardigan ?? the HAIR ?? i wanna be him and be with him this was lowkey the only time the wig looked good in s2 lmao

pairing: chishiya x gn!reader (no pronouns specifically used but reader is referred to as chishiya's partner/lover) genre: fluff word count: 826

warnings: mentions of blood, ooc chishiya he's a softie in this bc i say so

a/n: thank you so much for requesting !! i took this idea and RAN lmao this is more sweet than funny. i hope you like it :))

additional notes: i hit 500 followers a few days ago (HUGE thank you btw) and i was thinking of doing an event but idk if anyone is interested so lmk if i should do something lol

requests open !! pls it's been so long read my rules first

it’s late when chishiya finally returns from his game. he’s one of only a few people who survived the game, each of whom immediately disperse across the beach when they return. his jacket is stained with splotches of blood - something he notes to tell you about before you find it and start panicking.

the hotel’s hallways are empty as chishiya walks through them. he buries his hands into his pockets, unconsciously tracing the familiar route back to your shared room.

he finds it soon enough, quietly opening the door and entering. you lay sprawled across the bed, holding a pillow against your chest as you sleep. chishiya allows a small smile to grace his face under the cover of darkness, kicking his sandals off before stripping off his blood-soaked jacket. careful not to disturb you, he slips underneath the covers before slowly drifting off into sleep.

it’s still dark when chishiya wakes up again. you’ve turned onto your side, now facing him. he lays further away from you, nearly on the edge of the bed. he’s about to push you back over when you unconsciously move again, pushing him fully off of the bed in a singular movement.

chishiya sits on the floor bewildered for a few seconds. he can see you, still sleeping, now having fully rolled from the right side of the bed to the left - pushing him off in the process. he could nearly laugh from the shock of you, his loving, clingy, selfless partner, kicking him off of your shared bed.

he debates waking you up for a few seconds before ultimately deciding that you’re still exhausted from your game the previous night. instead, he stands up and gently pushes you into the middle before laying back down next to you. he hooks his leg over yours, laying his head against your chest over your heartbeat. his body weight presses against your own, pinning you down against the mattress.

your heartbeat remains steady. chishiya can feel it rattling against your chest with each beat. he allows himself to relax again, nuzzling further against you. a small smile stretches across his face when you wrap your arms around him, mumbling a small “‘shiya,” under your breath. wrapped in your arms, sleep returns to him easily.

sunlight shining through the windows welcomes you when you blink awake. you can feel a weight pressed against your chest. chishiya’s body lays sprawled over your own. his hair tickles the exposed skin on your neck and collarbones. his warm breath against your chest makes you shiver.

he’s still asleep, as evidenced by his slow, even breathing. you smile, bringing a hand up to stroke through his hair. you gently tug at the tangles, slowly unraveling them with your fingers. he stirs at the feeling, shifting a little. “morning ‘shiya.” he hums, eyes still closed as you massage his scalp with your nails. a long sigh escapes him at the comfortable feeling. your smile grows as you continue, happy to play with his hair for as long as he’ll let you. “are you gonna lay on me all day?”

“it’s your punishment,” he mumbles. “for kicking me out of bed last night.”

“that was you?”

chishiya raises his head, playfully glaring at you through his bangs. “you knew what you were doing?”

“i thought you were my dog.”

“...so your reaction was to push me out of bed?”

“he gets hair all over me! i was just trying to push him away.” you coax him back down onto your chest, returning to playing with his bleached locks. “i’m sorry, baby.”

“you should be,” he huffs. “i can’t believe you would do this to your own boyfriend.”

“forgive me,” you dramatically sigh.

“i come back from a game, exhausted, and crawl in bed with my lover to get some sleep, and in return, you push me out of bed.” you pretend not to notice the smile he’s barely suppressing.

“how will i ever make it up to the great chishiya shuntaro?” chishiya moves so he hovers over you, elbows pressed on either side of your head. his nose barely brushes against your own. he pulls away when you lean upwards, denying you the morning kiss you’re silently begging for.

you lay back against the bed, relenting. you reach up to push his bangs behind his ears. “i’ll let you lay on me and play with your hair all day if you stop whining.”

“i’m not whining,” he retorts, pressing a quick kiss against your lips before he lays back down on your chest.

“yes you are,” you hum, bringing your hand back to up twist the strands between your fingers. chishiya scoffs, though he doesn’t argue further, relaxing against your body again.

“i love you.” he whispers.

overwhelming love mixes with the content you feel. it spreads through your body, radiating off of you. you lean down to press a kiss against his forehead. “i love you too, ‘shiya.”

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embrosegraves · 6 months

Text

𝔸𝕟 𝕌𝕟𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕙𝕪 𝕆𝕓𝕤𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟

Not the biggest fan of this I'll be honest. I don't think I'll do something like this very often, and if I do it won't be for a while. Anyways I hope you enjoy even just a little bit <;3

Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, Being unaware of listening devices, hidden camera, author not knowing how to put the correct warning for a fic lmao, I definitely missed something I know it.

Sebastian Vettel x Reader Obsessed x Obsessed but Seb thinks it’s just him lowkey this was a little inspired by An Unhealthy Obsession by The Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra. It's a good song.

Sebastian was never one to invade the privacy of others. He was a gentleman, thank you very much! But he had gotten into the habit of finding out what room you were staying in at every hotel, just so he could… set up, before you got there.

If anybody found out that he put walkie talkies in your room, he could always just say that it was in case you needed any help. One might argue that hotels had notoriously thin walls, but he was just being cautious. Sebastian was also convinced that no one would be able to find the microscopic camera he had stuck to the tv at the end of your hotel bed.

Seb had been in his own room (quite literally next door) for about an hour before he heard you opening the door to your room. He listened to the walkie, and watched through the camera he had connected to his phone, as you put your luggage on your bed. He could tell you were exhausted with the flight over and he wished craved to be the one you’d turn to after a long day.

Eventually his own exhaustion and the jetlag caught up to him and he fell asleep listening to you hum whatever song had been on your mind that day.

— — — —

You were exhausted. Having just gotten back from the paddock, your camera’s memory stick positively brimming, all you wanted to do was relax. Before you could spread out on the bed, you needed to change clothes. Get rid of the surprisingly uncomfortable team wear and surround yourself in something more comfortable. Paying no mind to the opened curtains of your hotel suite, you changed into a pair of cotton shorts and an oversized SV5 hoodie that made it look like you weren’t wearing pants.

Finally able to flop down on the bed, you grabbed your laptop and your camera and started to transfer the images so you could pick out which ones to send to the media team. If you saved every photo of Sebastian, well no one but you would know. Eventually, you sent an email to the head of Media containing an array of photos that had a mix of different drivers within them.

You spent the rest of your evening browsing the internet for anything even remotely related to the German driver that had been on your mind since you were 12.

— — — —

He knew that you had only just changed the tyres of your car. Of course he knew. Afterall he was the one that caused you to need to change them in the first place. It had been all too easy to set up. He just needed to make sure that the road you usually took to drive home from the track had an invisible row of spikes that you would drive over.

All he had to do afterwards was wait for you to call. He knew you would. He made sure that he spent enough time helping you so that he would be the first person you would call should you need help elsewhere. Hearing his phone ring when he was conveniently ten minutes away from you made his heart palpitate. His chest constricted so deliciously at the thought of hearing you beg him to help. He had to play this smart.

“Yes, Leibe?” He sounded happy, something he would tell you was because of the adrenaline rush of placing on the podium.

“Hi Seb, listen, I’m really sorry to ask this but do you think you could come and pick me up?” You asked him. “My car just suddenly got a flat tire and you were the first person I thought to call.”

“Of course! I’ve actually just left the track not too long ago myself-” of course he had “Just send over your location and I can come get you.”

“Thank you so much Seb, I’ll quickly share my location so you know where I am.”

“I’ll see you soon then, Liebe.”

After he hung up, you shared your location, as you said you would. It only took him about 6 minutes to show up. No one had to know that he occasionally ignored the speed limits.

— — — —

People would definitely call it creepy if they knew just how obsessed Sabastian Vettel was with you. He liked to think that it was romantic. To be entirely honest, you thought it was endearing how much he wanted you to be his. As much as the people around you were oblivious to Seb’s unhealthy obsession with you, you were a lot more observant than everyone realised.

The first time it came to your attention was when you had joined Formula One as a Photographer. Having watched the sport for years now, and constantly keeping up with it throughout your studies, you knew every driver on the grid that year. Being ‘fresh meat’ in the paddock, you were easy to spot for everyone. The drivers more or less were not that interested in the new photographer that the sport had hired. If anything it just meant that they had to pose more than they already did. But there was one driver who couldn’t help but be absolutely fascinated with you.

You thanked whatever power-that-be that Sebastian Vettel had entered into F1 the same year you entered puberty, as it allowed you to blame that on your sudden obsession with him. Being interested in him since you were 12 had given you plenty of time to become a master at hiding just how obsessed you were. So of course, when Sebastian came up to you to introduce himself, it was only too easy to see the signs of a brand new budding obsession.

— — — —

Despite being so enamoured with you, Sebastian had never once been inside your house. His eyes were flitting around everywhere, trying to take in as much of your home as he could. You had invited him to come in for a cup of tea after he had saved you from being stranded with no transport.

“Feel free to explore if you’d like.” You called to him as you made your way to the kitchen to fill up the kettle. You had no qualms about him snooping through your things. If anything, Sebastian snooping through your house might finally get him to understand that he wasn’t the only obsessed party.

Sebastian was never one to turn down an opportunity that was literally being handed to him. The minute you had walked into the kitchen after telling him to explore, he went straight upstairs. The first room he entered was a bathroom. Nice and clean, spacious. Perfect for some relaxing should it be needed. He didn’t spend long in there.

The next room he walked into happened to be your guest room. It was a bit plain, nothing too extravagant. A nice bed, a small closet space and a door that led to the relatively large balcony overlooking your backyard. Same as the bathroom, he didn’t spend too much time in the room.

The next room had him more excited than he would admit. Your bedroom. It was cosy and warm and it perfectly embodied everything he thought you were. There was a door that led to the same balcony as the guest room. He spent a bit longer in this room. He contemplated for only a split second whether or not he should look through your drawers, before he rationalised that you had given him permission to look around. Whether or not you meant looking around through your dresser was of no consequence to him.

He was a little disappointed that he hadn’t found any raunchy toys in your bedside drawers. Nonetheless he continued on his way to the final room on the upper floor.

Opening the door furthest from the stairs, he discovered your office. It was pretty standard for an office. A large desk with a computer, a comfy chair behind it. On one wall was a bookshelf full of literature of all kinds. He only recognised a few titles so he didn’t bother looking too intensely there. What he did look intensely at however, was a section of your office that could only be described as a shrine. Upon closer inspection he realised the subject of the shrine.

Him.

There were photos and photos of him at all sorts of points in his career. His first Formula 1 race, the first time he scored points, the first time he got on the podium, the first time he got pole position in qualifying, his first race win and his first WDC were among many of the countless photos of him that were proudly displayed. He had even noticed that there were newspaper clippings that had been cut out, and in every one of them he had been surrounded in a thick red heart shape. Standing right in front of it, he began leafing through everything that covered the small desk.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Your voice had started Sebastian. His head shot up to look at you. How could he have been so careless as to stop paying attention to his surroundings? He had gotten caught red handed and he wasn’t sure how he could solve this. He didn’t want you to think that he was a creep (though given that you had a literal shrine dedicated to him, the chance of that was slim).

“I usually keep this room locked when I am away.” You said, moving to place the two drinks you had brought up on your desk before sitting on the plush chair you had next to the shrine.

“Did you know that I have cameras in every room of my house?” This was rhetorical. “I thought it was quite interesting that you looked so disappointed when you didn’t find anything interesting in my bedside drawers. I thought I might help you find what you wanted.”

You reached over to open the drawer of the desk he was still standing in front of. His body hadn’t moved an inch, excluding his head that had followed your every movement since entering the room. Which meant that when you did get the drawer open, your hand ever so gently brushed against his thigh. The touch sent an almost violent shiver through both of you.

Seeing you nod your head towards the now open space in front of him, Sebastian moved his gaze from your face to the contents of the drawer. This explained why he found nothing in your bedroom. Neatly organised inside the drawer was an array of lewd toys. Picking one up, he looked at them more closely. It wasn’t until then that he noticed that each and every one of your toys was customised. With his name on them.

He fell even deeper at the thought that whenever you played with yourself, it was his name inside you. That it was his name that gave you pleasure and release. He almost didn’t notice the pair of panties you kept behind the toys in your drawers. He grabbed them and looked at the embroidery on the back of the lacy garment.

“VDS?” The rasp in his voice had you feeling particularly wet and ready.

“Vettel’s Dirty Slut was a little too long for such a small canvas of lace.” You elaborated. “I’d say I’m a dab hand at stitching, amongst other things.”

His eyes had darkened when you explained the acronym. He had envisioned having you in such a way since seeing you for the first time in 2014. “Show me.”

You gave a sly smile as you grabbed his hand, leading him back to your bedroom, toys and panties still in his grasp.

Your tea had long since gone cold by the time you had finished.

welp. there it goes. definitely not my best work, but rest assured that I will try my best to get better at writing more darkly themed fics. can't promise that I'll post my attempts all too often but I'll definitely work on it

thank you for the request Lovey!

#formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x you #I can't be bothered to fix the warning sorry loves #please give me feedback so I can improve #anyways love always muah

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apostaterevolutionary · 2 months

Text

Okay so. There has been a huge resurgence of House MD recently here and I find this both fascinating and a bit whiplash-y because I have a very particular relationship with that show and there’s no way to explain it without outing myself for doing a very weird thing lmao but here we go

So I watched the show when it was airing and I liked it. I was never in a fandom for it cause I was a teenager for most of it, I was still figuring out my own sexuality and had no idea why I kept being drawn to shows where there’s really messy homoerotic relationship bait, and I just liked the show (and was extremely attached to Thirteen lmao). I knew some people who liked it too but in a more typical ‘this is a show I like’ way. I had no idea it had such a fandom following at all

And the second piece to this is I have struggled with insomnia my entire life (I probably have a circadian rhythm disorder), and the important part for this explanation is I can’t sleep in complete darkness or silence. So I watch something. But it has to be the right something - too interesting and I watch it and stay awake too long, too boring and I end up not being able to relax

So to fix this problem: I used a show I liked, but have seen a lot. I picked House MD and I’ve been doing it ever since because it works and has continued to work and I don’t want to lose sleep by messing with my system

The thing is, I started doing this in high school. My late teens. I’m now in my early 30s. I have been falling asleep to House for over a decade lmfao. I still like the show, but I’ve seen it so much that I know the plot and sometimes diagnosis in most episodes (there are a few I don’t watch, the emotional ones that are too much, and the ones last on the discs [yes I am still using the same dvds I bought over a decade ago, they still work great] I don’t see as often simply cause I’m usually asleep before then)

So to suddenly discover my nightly sleepy time show that I only ever knew a few people who liked and mostly watched with my mother back in the day actually has a massive fandom following (which I should have known lmfao like come on it’s absolutely ripe for it, I just never made the connection) that is suddenly active again feels a lot like a bunch of people just showed up in my bedroom and it’s so weird skskdjsk

#I think at this point I might require the soothing sounds of medical malpractice and personal drama in order to actually sleep so #lmao idk this is just such an odd experience to me #my relationship with this show is so weirdly specific it’s jarring to see so many people suddenly into it skdkdk #anyway idk why I’m sharing this honestly I just think it’s funny #text #misc #shut up nerd #house md

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harcove · 2 years

Note

Billy x ! Fem reader

(basically just fluff)

Reader falling asleep during the car ride home and Billy carrying them into the house

Reader and Billy sleep in the same bed/room and Reader is afraid of the dark so they insist on keeping a night light on all night which annoys Billy who prefers complete darkness to sleep so Billy's head rested on the reader's chest <33

a/n: I decided to do that second one cause bruh that's cute asf and I used a nightlight for a while- I used to have to sleep with my tv on, but now it has to be pitch black lmao. I think I will also write that other one cause I did something similar with Billy and my oc (ya... i have an oc but lmao) and love it too! enjoy cutie!

Pairing: Billy x Reader

Length: 1.3k

Warnings: Mention of trauma, maybe slight PTSD on readers end?, Kind of Billy too, a fluffy Billy

Personal Pillow - B.H.

"Seriously?"

Billy propped his head up on his arm. He looked at you with flat eyes, hardly amused by what you'd just said to him.

It was a bit funny to see him laying in your bed beside you; soft and fluffy light coloured blanket covering the two of you- one of your stuffed animals (a teddy bear with a pink ribbon around) under one of his arms; it looked so odd to see someone like Billy Hargrove lying there, looking like this. But it felt right to have him there with you.

"Yes," you say, turning to slip out of your bed in order to turn off the rooms light only to be stopped by warm hands grabbing you by the middle of your stomach, pulling you roughly into his front.

"What are you, like, five?"

He speaks into your ear like he's trying to seduce you, but his words are mocking, making fun. It makes you pout, only further making you look like a little girl, only making him squeeze you closer with a smirk on his beautiful face.

"See, you even look like you're five right now," Billy pinches your cheek closest to him, "my little baby."

You like how he calls you baby. But you don't like why he's doing it.

Maybe you didn't like the dark, it was hard for you to sleep at night when it was pitch black. And at your age, it maybe seemed a bit much. Like something you should have grown out of long ago.

But with the oddities that had been happening in Hawkins over the past year, the darkness had become something that scared you; things that shouldn't exist or rumours of the happenings around town are what hid in the corners of your room, darkness that couldn't be tamed.

The thing that had attacked Billy was something that haunted your mind the most. You wondered how come it had to affect you so badly.

And yet Billy could sleep perfectly fine in the dark. In fact, he preferred to sleep with it dark, pitch black. Most people older than the age of ten did.

So all it did was make you feel embarrassed as you forcefully pulled yourself away from his tight grasp; perhaps he realized you were a bit upset and that's why he let you go, or the more likely reason was that he hadn't actually expected you to pull away from him.

"Come on doll," he sighed, watching you walk to the light in your room and hesitating. Your nightlight was on already, so you had nothing to fear, logically you knew that even in the dark. But the illogical parts of your brain demanded to be heard.

You didn't give him a response as you shut the light off and quickly walked back to your bed, the nightlight illuminating your path as you jumped back into the bed.

Back turned to him, you refuse to acknowledge him. But you feel embarrassed, and slightly bad.

This was supposed to be enjoyable. You were lucky enough that your parents liked Billy, that your parents trusted you in your room, and trusted you to have sleepovers with him. They were privy to the knowledge that at the very least his father and him had a bad relationship, and were fine with him being here.

And granted, it had been enjoyable till this point.

He had come over and spent most of the time in your room with you, talking and messing around (mainly on his part; he just loved to get under your sin sometimes- always says that you have the cutest angry face,) at one point you even sat in the living room and watched a movie while your parents went to their room to give you two the space. Dinner had been fun as Billy got along really well with your father, who loved Billy's Camaro.

It had been good. Fun. You loved him, you loved him being here.

But now you felt bad, embarrassed.

You reached your hand over to flip the tiny nightlight beside your bed off. You'd swallow your fear because Billy was the guest and you wanted him to be comfortable (and you were embarrassed enough as it was; you felt like a little child). You could hack it for the night you supposed.

But the moment your fingers touched the switch, they were pulled away as Billy's hands grabbed your arm and dragged it back down, in the process dragging you away from the edge of the bed that you'd situated yourself on, pulling your frame into himself. He wouldn't let you move an inch.

"Leave it."

Your eyebrows furrowed and you tried to twist your body in order to look at him, but his arms were like vices and he only squeezed tighter, making it impossible to turn much less wiggle too much.

It takes you a few moments to realize he's referring to the nightlight you had on. He's telling you to just leave it on. And you can't figure out why. You were so sure he would insist it be turned off, thus why you didn't argue back much, but instead he was stopping you.

For Billy, it's a matter of understanding- and not having you be cross with him all night, inching yourself away from him when all he wants is to be pressed against you. He would rather it be pitch black, but he would have to be blind to not realize that the darkness in Hawkins had become one of the things you feared most. The metaphorical darkness that was a world, an upside down one, one that was bleeding into the right one. The upright one.

For Billy, darkness was familiar. He had been shrouded in the dark in most aspects of life and he had found it easy to navigate; you were (as silly as it sounded; trust him, he knows-) a brightness in that darkness. He didn't need to feel scared of the darkness at any point if you were there.

And darkness hid the things he didn't want (nor need- in his opinion) to see.

"Are you... Sure?"

"If I wasn't fuckin' sure I wouldn't have said it, would I?"

It was a rhetorical question.

Billy finally let you turn your body towards him, loosening his arms on you just a bit in order to allow you to turn your body. His intention- aside from enjoying the ability to feel the front of your body pressed against his own and see your face up close- was to bury his face into your chest, and it actually wasn't a sexual thing in that moment.

He shimmies his body down a bit; it's a funny feeling and a funny sight. The word 'shimmy' doesn't sound like a word you would use in relation to Billy Hargrove, but it's what he's doing. It tickles a bit as his body rubs against your own. If you weren't tired, you might've felt different about it. But at this point, you only smiled softly.

When he positions himself properly to press his head against your chest, he lets out a moan; god he loves the feeling of your chest, your body, skin, everything. The heat you radiate against him makes him melt (and Billy Hargrove never melts.) He's lucky he enjoys heat, because the way he's pressed against you under the blanket is radiating heat, your body temperatures mixing.

He knows in a few hours you are going to be trying to push him away. But he's not letting it happen.

With his face pressed into your chest, it's dark, almost like there isn't a nightlight on. He's fine with that. He's perfectly fine with that.

"Might have to take this pillow home with me."

He is referring to you, and it makes you squeeze his shoulders.

You let him stay there, because you know he's using your chest to block out the light in your room. And you feel the way he's loosened his muscles pressed against you, comfortable. Safe even. And that's all you want for him. You don't need to be so scared with him there pressed into you.

Maybe the nightlight isn't so bad, Billy thinks, if it means he can use your chest as a pillow and a blockade for the light.

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #mine #amy writes #my writing #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #antis dni #billy hargrove fluff #billy lives au

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chronically-ghosted · 6 months

Text

delicious

rating: T (for cursing and drug use)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 2160

summary: in order to make a fundraising event bearable, you and Dieter take edibles. When the event runs long, your only chance to make it out alive is to find something to eat.

warnings: drug use (it’s just edibles c’mon you narc), eating, the munchies, messy kissing, dieter bravo being a giant goofball and i hate him, this fic is so self-indulgent i'm embarrassed FOR you, FLUFF

a/n: this one kicked my butt, idk why. But @ravensmadreads says its good so here you go. For my 100 followers event (this is the last one! wow!): @sp00kymulderr asked: Taylor!! Congrats on 100, you’re my favourite blog honestly I check your posts every day just to read your tags lmao. For the celebration can I request some of our sweet boy Dieter with the prompt “We should probably leave, before we start a scandal.” it’s absolutely perfect

🤍Masterlist

After thirty minutes, your eyes are starting to cross. Your high-ribbed dress pinches the soft skin under your tits and the boob tape is starting to chafe your nipples. The ruby red heels have officially given you blisters but the worst – the absolute worst of it – you’re fucking starving.

And the Layaway Barbie at the podium marches on, her big eyes wet and her mouth begging, as she proves to a roomful of donors why they should spend another million in . . . tree-frog rehabilitation. Dieter had been drawn to the little green guys with red eyes on the front of the invitation and as the guest of honor for his “philanthropic” work when he was “dating” a Doctor Without (personal) Borders six years ago, how could he not go?

Let’s take an edible before we go, he said.

Whatever the vibe, it’ll be better if we’re on edibles, honey.

That is the last time you let him convince you of anything while he’s not wearing pants and his hand is down yours.

Your stomach grumbles and you fight back a whine. You make a noise like that and someone will definitely know you’re on drugs. The portly man next you has been staring at you with poorly hidden disgust all night as it is. But for now, his eyes focus in on Layaway Barbie, his loose jowls around his permanently down-turned mouth reminding you of a cartoon character. But which one?

Your eyes narrow at him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and it comes to you.

“Droopy!” you yelp and immediately clap your hand over your mouth. Your table mates eye you as if you are some society dredge they did not wish to involve themselves with.

You turn as best you can in your seat, ready to either be scolded by Dieter or have him laugh with you, but he does neither.

In fact, cross-armed, low in his seat, he lets out a low snore.

It’ll be fun, he said.

“Dieter!” You hiss. Nothing. His face is relaxed, lips parting as he falls deeper asleep. Irate you didn’t think of it first, you smack him across the knee. “Dieter!”

He jerks, eyelids cracking open briefly, and suddenly he drops his chin again.

“Thank you for your blessing and influence, oh Lord. Am— oh, hey, baby, what’s up?”

“Don’t ‘hey, baby, what’s up’ me. You were asleep and you just faked praying.”

“Better than faking other things,” he yawns loudly, blinks a bit, and realizes the “inspiring” speech (and presentation) is still going on. “Oh, fuck, we’re gonna die here.”

“Can you please keep it down?” The woman to Dieter’s right snaps. “You are making a mockery of a serious and pressing issue facing our society.”

Dieter blinks at her, his arms still across his chest. You can hear the bitch climb up his throat before he even opens his mouth.

“Well, you’re making a mockery of that dress and you don’t see me complaining–,”

You snag him by the hand and pull him away from the table before the woman has the good sense to throw her drink into his face.

He stumbles behind you as you push on the metal bar, the latch clicking, and you both tumble out into the empty hotel hallway. When the event started, everyone had been herded in from the other doors, where the lobby was. This looks like the kind of hallway drunk co-eds wander down while trying to find the bathroom after prom.

Which – ironically –

His big paw clutches your waist as he falls, or rather, stumbles into a tacky maroon and gold wall. In the fumbling under his legs as they overtake you, and keeping the rim of your heels from biting into your already puckered flesh, he manages to pin you beneath him. The instant the smell of his cologne washes over you, the instinct to claw his stupid eyes out evaporates. You sigh, both of his hands cupping your neck.

“Mhmm, there she is,” he murmurs, sing-song, kissing your nose. “Little hellcat turns baby kitten when she gets what she needs.”

“You are the biggest idiot I know,” you purr into his ear as his hands slide through the layers of your skirt to your ass.

“Yes, but I’m your idiot.” The cry you let out when he pinches your ass cheek beneath your dress is all the answer he needs.

Hands full of your thighs, he rubs you up the wall but there’s too many layers, too much gossamer to get him where you need him. His breath comes in short pants as he presses sloppy, wet kisses to your shoulder, your clavicle, your cheek.

There it comes again. Hunger. Driven on by –

You bite him.

“Ow!”

He pulls back and your mouth drops open in horror – you didn’t mean to bite him that hard and –

Your stomach lets out the most petulant growl.

Hand on his neck like it’s bleeding, Dieter follows your gaze to your stomach as if it had called his name.

And then you both break out into side-splitting laughter.

He eases you down, giggling, his nose pressed to your temple. Were you at home, the sex would have probably continued, but the atmosphere would be different – playful, teasing – he once did a Kermit the Frog impression while balls-deep inside of you and you laughed so hard you instantly came all over him.

“Baby,” he sighs through his teeth and kisses your hairline. “I know. I’m so fucking hungry.” He snaps his teeth by your ear and you push him back by his chest. Two goddam years of dating this moron and he still makes you blush like you’re fifteen and necking with a band geek.

His fingers wrap around your wrist to hold your hand above his heart, kissing your knuckles. He sucks your thumb once before you yelp, and he pushes your fist into his hair as you try to squirm away. He smirks into your neck.

“Dieter!”

“I’m hungry!”

“You’re the one who suggested we take edibles before coming to this thing.”

“Mhmm, let’s go home and do more drugs.”

“But you owe me dinner. Five Guys?”

“Baby, I have to eat something first to have enough stamina for that.”

“Oh my god, you –,”

He bites you on your earlobe again, grinning as he comes behind you to nudge you down the hall. “I know what you meant. I’m down for burgers, but I want, like, five.”

“Me too. Carry me? My feet hurt.”

“Of course, mah kwehn,” he nods as he scoops you up across his broad shoulders, momentarily taking on the affectation of Jon Snow and his loyalty to the dragon queen.

You’re working to kick your heels off as he marches the two of you down the hallway and you’ve nearly gotten your second heel off (the first in your lap) when he suddenly stops.

“Oi, Thomas, we’re not at the train station yet,” you grumble as you reach for your heel, awkwardly tucked under you and his arm. “Keep it going. Choo choo, you know?”

He still isn’t moving. You frown up at him, another transportation joke at the ready, but his wide-eyed stare gives you pause.

“What are you looking at?” You turn in his arms, hunger now officially twisting your stomach painfully. “Why’d you–,”

Your mouth falls open.

Beyond two double doors at the end of the hall sits a silver cart, loaded with tiny chocolate desserts.

You swallow the spit flooding your mouth. This time, his stomach grumbles as if to add to the argument.

“Dieter, put me down.” He all but drops you.

“Dieter, we can’t.”

“Why?”

“We shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“You’re only saying that because we’re both high as fuck right now and I’d eat bathroom soap if I could.”

That seems to rattle him out of his starvation-induced stupor. He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Please, when have I ever not eaten something I wasn’t supposed to?”

You blink up at him, now several inches shorter without your heels. “What? None of that made sense.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m going for it.”

He strides past a very wide hallway branching back towards the lobby of the hotel, no doubt where several waiters intended to roll dessert out to the waiting reception. They’d be back at any second, but either due to being higher than a kite, his own innate lack of shame, or a combination of the two, Dieter is across the hallway in seconds and he snatches up two of the little chocolate spheres and shoves them both into his mouth at the same time.

“Holy shit, they’re cream puffs.”

Your hunger nearly doubles you over. “C-cream puffs? Those are m-my–,”

“Your favorite. I know. Mhmm, fucking get over here.”

Trembling from a lack of food and nerves, you slink over to him, hand out-stretched. He’s already had four more by this point and he’s stacking more onto a single plate as your fingers squish around one right in front of you. You pinch and the gooey white cream eases out the side. You whimper.

Dieter pauses, the tips of his fingers stained with dark chocolate and a dollop of cream on his cheek.

“That’s the sound you make when I eat you out.”

Rather than answer your boyfriend, you pop the cream puff into your mouth. Your eyes roll back in your head as the pastry melts on your tongue.

“Oh fuuuck.”

Dieter watches with growing concern as you scarf down pastry after pastry. “Okay, now I’m a little offended you’re so turned on by this.”

“Shut up, and let me eat.”

In minutes, the silver cart is empty. Chocolate smeared across a dozen haphazardly-arranged plates, dots of cream littering the spaces between plates and on the edge of the cart, it looks like a fucking war zone of confectionery.

You find yourself breathing heavy, your face and arms covered in the guts of those poor, poor baked goods. Dieter isn’t faring much better, his jacket stained and beard sticky. Your hunger is sated, for now, but you think of burgers and fries and a vanilla milkshake and immediately turn to Dieter, who stares back at you with wide eyes.

“I want six burgers–,”

“We should probably leave before we start a scandal–,”

You stare at each other, soldiers shell-shocked, rehabilitated werewolves in horror of their bloodshed. Bloodlust.

The second you get home you’re gonna give him the kind of blow job that stops his heart.

Half-way laughing, half-way crying, you take him by the collar, further smearing chocolate over the starched white linen and his neck, and kiss him soundly on his conspicuous mouth. He giggles through the kiss and cups your cheeks, his massive hands sticky and warm.

“We should go . . .” he murmurs again before pressing his lips to you again. Cream puffs or no, it all tastes better when you lick it off the corner of his mouth.

“We’re gonna have to walk past the lobby,” you bemoan into his patchy beard. Dieter smirks and without warning, squeezes your right tit, leaving a very clear chocolatey handprint on your dress.

“Dieter!”

“C’mon, baby, I wanna devour you. And I want all of them to know it.”

That was the thing about Dieter Bravo, he never did anything small. He never allowed you to feel small. He was obsessive about taking pictures of you, posting them everywhere, never ashamed of you and desperate to have the world see you the way he did.

Like you were delicious.

“I’ll buy you six burgers if you let us walk out like this.”

“Deal.”

Grinning like only a man with nothing to hide can, he takes you by the hand and leads you back towards the very fancy dinner you’ve both no doubt been kicked out of.

Something rises up in you the longer you stare at his broad back.

“Dieter, wait.��

He pauses, turns, and crumbles slightly beneath the weight and intensity of your kiss.

“I love you,” you say before he can slip his tongue into your mouth.

Dieter Bravo does nothing small, is nothing small. Except when it’s just you and him and the words you just uttered hang in the air between you. A small, hesitant smile expands across his lips, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing but it warms him nonetheless.

“I love you too.”

He kisses your nose and you sigh into him. You could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him. But then you might just eat him alive.

“Burgers, Dieter.”

“Right, right. How many do you think we can buy at one time?”

You both ignore the paparazzi and their cameras as you walk hand in hand, your heels in your other hand, with Dieter out the front door and into the limo, arguing about which fast food joint would let you get at least twenty burgers.

Nothing about Dieter Bravo is small. Especially his appetite.

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throwaway-yandere · 2 years

Text

Waking Up A Lying Dragon (Yandere!Morax/Reader)

A/n: I do not condone any "yandere" actions in real life, this is just a twisted version of the character for entertainment. This will also just be a loose interpretation/version of the myth "Bakunawa". I'm not very knowledgeable on the topic. I'm very sorry if the details were so off. ((I swear I'm not obsessed with the master/servant troupe this fic is just in my drafts way before yandere ayato lmao))

Unreliable synopsis: A widow/er gets exiled to Teyvat, only to realize it is worse than prison.

Cw: Canon Divergence. Yandere themes. Power imbalance. Mostly gn!reader (the reader likes women.)

------------

There is a saying you've heard in Qingce Village long ago. Your memory is weak now, but it went along the lines of "it is hard to wake up someone who is pretending to be asleep." The verbatim phrase had slowly eroded over time, as you can only pick up synonyms on what you hope the original passage was, but the meaning stands true.

You know well how much harder it is to convince those who chose to be ignorant more than those who are uneducated. Your world had always been a sea of ignoramuses and greed, the present is no different. You need only look at the man beside you for that frustration to resurface.

On a sunny day like this, you wished you can bask in the morning sun alone. "Zhongli", as he calls himself these days, sits with such eloquence and calm beside you that one would easily mistake him to be a righteous man. You scoffed. He is not.

Noticing your gaze, Zhongli straightened up. He adjusted his collar as a faint blush powdered his cheeks. There is a subtle smile on his face as he takes a small sip from his cup. You felt your stomach churn. Just what did he take your glare for? Although he is debatably more salacious in this new form he had taken, your gripe with him won't ever bubble to lust. You refuse to allow it.

You turned away. Hate him or not, you just can't win against him.

"For this lovely afternoon, we gather around here today to recall the tale of Rex Lapis's feat of sealing the terrifying sea dragon, Bakunawa! They are an absolutely perilous dragon that resides on Liyue's seas and our nation's greatest traitor! It is a story told often and one all of our children have heard, yet there had been recent developments found by the wonderful scholars of Sumeru, so keep your ears open!"

Iron Tongue Tian spoke in his usual velvety voice. Most passersby in the streets perked up upon hearing his implications of ancient discoveries.

You shook your head.

Bakunawa was a remarkable traitor in Liyue's Legends. With the archon's passing, it would be low for the storyteller to spread false news, right? Well. You have a fair share of encounters with corrupt and misinformed individuals so you're not placing bets on any of these.

You and Zhongli simultaneously placed your teacups down and eyed Iron Tongue Tian.

"So listen, let me tell you how it is... The tale begins centuries before the archon war, as a well-renowned xiezhi approaches Rex Lapis in candor..."

-----

"Salutations, Sovereign Lord Rex Lapis! This humble servant calls to bring forth news, should thee wish to hear it."

An illuminated immortal beast called out to him and bowed. Morax did not expect a xiezhi to approach him at this hour, but with how strangely uneven its breathing was it must be urgent. It's an even more curious thing for the intelligent ox-like beast not to label the news in either a positive or negative light. Especially when Rex Lapis himself bestowed these adepti the ability of hypersensitive tell spotting for the sake of maintaining law and order.

There are rarely any visitors allowed to enter Morax's domain. Considering how this was Yanfei's father, a friend of his, who was sent to deliver the message, it must be urgent.

Morax, in his human form, clothed himself with a lengthy hanfu with earthly tones. He may only be equipped with a fan and a pipe, but his presence alone is enough to make anyone tremble. The xiezhi learned of Rex Lapis' philosophies of Gold, and this is just one of many ways he displays placid intimidation. Who would even dare make a misstep when the Lord of Geo stood before them?

"Speak."

The pink-haired xiezhi lifted his head.

"There is a water dragon who trespassed Mount Hulao," he said. "They appear to be an outlander outside Teyvat. They're not particularly hostile, but they do not allow humans to interact with their nest either."

His gaze sharpened. "The dragon already nested in the mountains?"

"Yes, my Lord. They have already formed a domain for themselves by the lake, but Mountain Shaper's adamant on allowing them respite, if only for a moment..."

Morax hummed, uprooting the Vortex Vanquisher from the cracked earth. The xiezhi took a reluctant step back. The earth rattled in Morax's footsteps, and the way his golden light flickered through the cracks was amiss in his usual walks. Something tells the xiezhi that this was planned, yet he has yet to lay a finger on what caused his mood to churn into unusual distress.

"Then, shall you collect a few things for me?"

The xiezhi appeared visibly confused. His Lord would rarely ask for his assistance, as he preferred lower adepti to do his biddings. Perhaps this was a sign that this is more confidential than he thought.

He nodded. "What is it that you wish for, my Lord?"

Morax pulled out a list from thin air. The parchment is pink and laced with a hint of gold. The xiezhi could slightly see through the paper and noticed how the handwriting is akin to Lord Guizhong. He bowed his head to avoid accidentally being on the receiving end of Morax's wrath.

"Hold your head up high, dear friend," Morax spoke as he handed him the scroll. The Adeptus nervously grabbed the list "it is your job to find the ingredients listed here."

Rex Lapis did not lie, the paper is filled with ingredients. However, the xiezhi expected it to be an instruction for smithing a powerful weapon, yet this was a guide on making "good tea". The poor lawyer cannot tell whether this was better than mining cor lapises or not, as one of the requirements entails a need to harvest violetgrass. Still, he would suck it up. Especially if he wants to be married to his mortal fiancé before winter comes.

The xiezhi gulped "T-tea recipes, my Lord?"

"Yes," Morax nodded, yet oddly enough there is a smile behind his stoic eyes.

"It would be rude not to entertain guests, is that not right?"

---------

Morax entered the domain with ease. His guess was right that the rumored water dragon wouldn't endanger any of their visitors, as there was not a single hint of a trap or weapon. If anything, the realm was picturesque, with limitless orange striped skies, unfamiliar trees, and tropical pearls. The scenery was a stark contrast to the ones observed in Guili Plains. He can hear water flowing in a small stream.

Was this meant to replicate their old home? Perhaps that is why the dragon chose Liyue. The north cannot accommodate those with warm tastes.

Morax instinctively reached for his weapon as he noticed something walking toward him.

"Greetings to the one who governs the Plains of Returning and Departing. I am Bakunawa, a Sea Dragon from outside Teyvat, and I'm humbled to be acquainted with Your Grace."

His alert demeanor stilled and his breath hitched.

It was you.

You stood before him as an ethereal mortal cloaked with a cherry headdress and long pure silk that barely covered your form. The skin of your neck was bare yet laced with beads and golden tattoos. Had your eyes not glowed with vertical slits, he would've dubbed you as the most beautiful and handsome mortal he had ever seen.

But it was not your form that he was enamored with.

No, it was your presence.

Call it draconic instinct, call it fate. Not one label nor descriptor fits what Morax had felt when he first met you, and he was eager to spend centuries to figure it out.

"I must admit, I did not expect a personal visit," You chuckled softly "I fully expected for you to send your armed subordinates instead. Do I appear passable at best? I have heard from Mountain Shaper that you prefer conversations in this form."

"Y...Yes."

Morax caught himself. Did he, the Prime of the Adepti, stutter over something as minuscule as appearance?

He cleared his throat. Morax recalled from Guizhong's teachings that grueling conversations often start with tea and small talk. Well, if he must...

"You do not offend. You have a talent for upholstery. I bought jasmine tea. What is your motive for staying in here?"

"…"

"… Pfft-- Hahaha!"

You laughed while holding your sides. Even though you looked away, he could tell that your eyes were beginning to water. For a moment, Morax's knees felt wobbly as he watched your eyes brighten and crease over his comments.

Enchanting.

"You are as blunt and, err, interesting as they say!" You snapped your fingers in amusement. Your cheeks were rosy and your grin was wide. "Believe it or not my liege, I come here only to rest."

"It is your job to make me believe those words." Morax deadpanned.

"A fair point," you said. "However, I am not sure how to persuade you. Shall I recount the events that led me to your abode?"

"I will judge if the story alone will suffice," Morax spoke, "but proceed."

"Well then, let's pour ourselves some tea!"

-------

"There are seven moons where I'm from" You pointed to the fake sky above. "In my prime, I possessed quite a large stature. The mortals in my continent feared that I would swallow the moons out of ignorance, and would make strange noises with their damn pots and pans to rile me up– I know that look on your face. I've seen the same thing on Mountain Shaper's– Trust me, this will be relevant and it gets better."

You winked at the end of your ramblings.

Morax laughed curtly and crossed his arms. If you were sharper you would've noticed the faint pink blush on his cheeks. "I'll take your word for it. That does sound quite troublesome."

You clicked your tongue "It is. There is nothing more useless and vile quite like a human mortal."

Morax flinched.

"Are you not being too harsh with your judgement?" He took a sip of his drink. Morax hoped your opinion was not a threat. He had met adepti and yakshas alike who gaze at mortals with disdain, yet they were all charmed by their appeal in the end. "You may find that they aren't as bad as you say."

He almost wanted to fumble a rash apology after seeing your shoulders drop. You appeared akin to an orphaned child of a burned village, yet his point stands firm like a lone salvaged chapel.

You muttered, "They killed my sister."

Morax's eyes widened. He nearly spat his tea.

You gazed up and looked directly into his amber eyes.

"That was not the only thing they took from me," You grumbled. "They burned my mate's house and left her entire family to succumb to famine while I was away."

"I pride myself on being a patient being, despite my undesirable circumstances, yet I had let my anger fester deep enough. I had decided to swallow a moon they loved so dearly in return."

You were certainly more loquacious when berating mortals, something Morax silently made note of. Despite your distaste for humanity, you still wore their skin to accommodate his preferences. The notion made the dragon's heart skip a beat a little.

"And did you succeed?" Morax gazed down at his cup while you chuckled sardonically.

"What do you think?"

You opened your palm. Morax had to squint to see the little speckles resting on your hands. His eyes widened. There is no mistake. It is a culmination of both extracted stardust and starglitters. His breathing paced slowly. To think there would be a being who would dare defy the heavenly principles, even if such Teyvat's laws do not apply to them.

But that wasn't truly what caught his eye.

It was the gold ring on your finger.

"I succeeded, but failed to steel myself." You said. "In the end, these humans frightened me with their strange noises and led me back to sea. As pathetic as that sounds."

"The world I hailed from retained but a single moon," you spoke. "And I'd take a leap in the dark that this world used to have two more that accompanied that lone moon in the sky. I wonder if there's a crack behind that wall..."

Morax went silent. Those slew of words weighed a thousand threats, yet spoke of none.

"You had done all of that for a mere woman?"

"Are you not fuc– Did you not listen?" It's a good thing you caught yourself. "Humanity took my sister. They killed her because they mistakenly believed her weight was sinking the island. Humans are rash. Cruel. And they do not deserve my pity. There were multiple atrocities they have committed, and... And I suppose that was when they crossed the line."

Morax felt perturbed. Your reasonings were far from enlightened, at least in his viewpoint at the time. "Taking their moons is not a fair act of justice."

'No shit.' You took a long deep breath.

You heard this all before. The same lecture was spoken before you were shunned from your realm, and they all came from holier-than-thou dragons patting each other on the back over their skewed sense of morality when other creatures do not operate similarly. They are godlings with endless crimes yet these same faces would dare act empathetic over the lives you've taken after you've been driven out.

If they were not driven by political motives, they were emotionally detached. They cannot and WILL NOT comprehend how one can be enchanted to meet a woman like your lover. It appears that Morax fits the latter description.

He doesn't know. He didn't know.

The silence was beginning to become a nuisance for the both of you. You coughed behind your hand. "I… admit. After her death, I am no longer a patient benevolent being. Sorry, let us both put that aside for now. What matters right now is the issue that I am stranded in a foreign land."

"And what is it that you hope to achieve?" He muttered, causing you to tilt your head.

"Allow me to phrase that properly, Bakunawa. I am, for a lack of a better term, 'a blockhead'. I have but a smattering of knowledge when it comes to these dealings and quite frankly I am reliant on Guizhong." Morax said, slightly massaging his temple after imagining Barbatos's grating voice. "What is it that you are trying to tell me?"

"My new friend, Rex Lapis," You inched closer beside him.

"May I tempt you and Lord Guizhong with a service contract?" You said. Maintaining his breath turned difficult as your fingers intertwined with his.

"I assure you, I may have a questionable background but someone with my repertoire is hard to come by."

-----------

You raised an eyebrow at Zhongli.

"I did not seduce you in any shape or form." You grumbled, giving him a dirty look "Seriously, Morax, what lies are you feeding your people?"

"OUR people have quite an imagination, my dearest spouse," Zhongli chuckled as his thumbs gently caressed your thigh. You cringed.

You divert your attention back to the storyteller, ignoring the way his filthy hands seem to crawl upwards.

You can tolerate this. You can tolerate this. You had to quietly chant that, lest you might just accidentally pray to the "deceased" Rex Lapis for your safety.

"The water Dragon went on to serve Sovereign Lord Rex Lapis and the late Lord Guizhong as their most loyal retainer for over hundreds of years. But alas! As you all may know, the latter turned to dust, and what comes after had crumbled Rex Lapis' foundation of trust...."

------------

The Dust had settled.

You were afar when it happened, fending off the great waves as you slash through the perilous winds. The dim skies accentuate the glow of your spear. You could no longer tell if the salt you taste is off your sweat or the ocean and the same goes for your blood and theirs. Guizhong purposely stationed you to fight silent enemies because she knew of your phobia. You appreciate her consideration.

Some nights, you wished you were able to save her with just your appreciation.

Only when you emerged victorious against Osial's lackeys did you hear a shrill cry from Cloud Retainer. You snapped your head and reached your hand out in fear that the engineer needed assistance, slightly annoyed at her interference. When you leaped your way up, she was in pristine condition. Her feathers were barely covered in dirt just like her claws.

You sighed in relief.

You never liked loud and sharp noises.

It had always been your greatest bane.

"What the hell are you yelling for?! There is no time to coddle your eccentricities, Retainer!"

Her wing pointed to her north, trembling. You expected her to open her mouth with her predictable "One must" opening, but she didn't. You followed her gaze and occupied her telescope.

The shores of Yaoguang Shoal were far and truthfully the sight was left to your imagination. There were however, two silhouettes you were familiar with and the view was not pretty. Above the sands, you make out the form of your Lords and friends, Morax and Guizhong.

Your head lowered as you cursed under your breath. You just know that he is beside himself holding back silvery tears.

To have a loved one be stripped away...

He knows. Now he knows.

------------

"My Lord," You moved to pass the curtains. The beaded threads slide over and reveal the form of Morax's drained form. He still insisted on remaining human as he buried his nose in writing paperwork after paperwork. Out of respect, you entered his abode as one as well. It is no secret that you worry over his health. As his most trusted retainer, you had voluntarily stationed yourself outside his room for most of your free time. "I bought you some food and water from Mount Aocang."

There was no response.

You sighed. You should've guessed as much. You were in a similar state, might've been worse, a day after you knelt beside your wife's ashes. It was just unpredictable how the man you saw screamed and summon meteors from the sky grieving so uncannily silent.

"Why are you offering me fish?"

"Oh, I..." You scratched behind your ear. "I supposed it was an unconscious decision. I often gave my wife seafood when she was under the weather... My wife is an avid fan of seafood– was, an avid fan..."

You looked back at the memory of your old life so fondly, back when you waited for nothing more than eating with her by the banana leaves. Morax's face sharpened in a mocking pointed look. Your heart ached for a moment, fearing that the sentiment is not appropriate for those in grief to hear.

"Shut it."

Your sympathy slightly cracked. Perhaps it was not appropriate for you to mention your deceased loved one when he is in this state but to be so uncouth about it? A bit unacceptable. You pulled the plate closer to your chest defensively.

"But you must eat–"

"I find seafood distasteful." He bit back. "The mere sight irritates me. Dispose of it. Now."

"Mo–"

"BAKUNAWA!!!"

You trembled.

His eyes looked directly into your soul and you felt it dissecting your being. Judging. Hateful. Words cannot fully describe how unpleasant it becomes being near Morax's presence when he was menacing.

But Morax faltered when he saw you flinch.

He had almost forgotten your fear of loud noises.

"Do not mention your DEAD wife ever again." He spat and glowered. Morax picked up a pen again and hastily pulled out a parchment from his study table. You assumed it was yours as he began to inspect it closely.

"I should revise your contract."

"You didn't hate seafood last time we dined with Pervases." You mumbled mostly to yourself, not wanting to uncover your grief over the young yaksha's passing either. It certainly will be the last time you ate with him. You didn't want to use Pervases as a dirty trick to distract Morax from condemning your wife's memory, but you knew that with him, you must grasp at any straws for an immovable force to budge.

"I do not like it now. Bakunawa. Throw it away. A mere mortal's preference will never influence my own."

You scoffed.

A mere mortal? Had he become this petty? Using your deceased wife's favorite things as a weapon against you? Just so you would leave?

You want to be just as petty. You want to hurl insult after insult, but you have matured. He reminded you of yourself in the ocean many moons ago. You should know how grief comes in waves, clinging onto shore once in a while. This is a dragon stripped away from his closest confidant, much like how the love of your wife was taken from you.

If this is how he grieves, then you respect it.

He is a sleeping dragon, but it is not time for him to wake up.

"I see. I shall leave you alone for tonight." You smiled faintly.

"Get some rest, Morax."

After you left, Morax reached out his hand but you were already gone. He placed his pen down and rubbed his forehead. That was not how he wanted that conversation to go. He did not mean to be passive-aggressive, but he can't help but be irritated when you speak of the dead mortal.

You mention her name every moment you two were alone together, and he's starting to suspect that you do so on purpose. Her name is a constant reminder that while you penned your name in his contract, you will never belong to him. The gold on your ring finger solidified it.

Morax sighed.

He wished you stayed with him until he felt better, and not the opposite.

------------

You turned back to your original form. Your human heart was uneased and erratic the entire time you were alone with Morax. It's strange because you always felt secure around him, but being around a grieving person is likely a complicated ordeal. The uncomfortable sensations seem to stem from your human vessel, and the tingles have yet to subside despite reverting to your old scales.

You sat at a rock in Guili Plains. The field remains tilled with blood and residues of fallen divine beings. Ashes are scattered along with blood-stained mud. Traces of the battle left not one house standing. Morax was forced to move the survivors to the harbor. Had Guizhong survived, she would've calculated the damages and costs to repair the civilization. She would've been alongside you and Morax, pinching the bridge of her nose as she writes off what needs to be done. You could see it clear as day. Guizhong would've patted Morax's head and reassured him with hopes for the future. It left a bitter taste in your mouth just imagining it.

Because she reminds you of your wife. And now she had passed on as well.

You wondered if the two finally met up there. Lord Guizhong had expressed interest in meeting your wife someday. You wondered if they were fast friends.

But you also wondered if she's happy in the afterlife.

Being a sea serpent dragon, your eyesight is not as great as a crane's which leads you to have doubts.

Is it possible that Morax himself was the one who put Guizhong out of her misery?

"You may have won, but you shouldn't let your guard down, Bakunawa."

In one swift motion, your claws pressed against Beisht's neck. Her back was pressed firmly against the cracked concretes. A dangerous laugh echoed throughout the barren land. She, with her overflowing confidence, grabbed your hand and dug the blade deeper down her neck.

"Do you really think I'd come after you with my true form?"

Ragged as she may be, Biesht had been such an eye-candy. Her eyes were inviting and her lips were just as tempting. She's personally not your type, but you can see the appeal. Her sharp eyelashes and long painted nails are to die for. It's no wonder Osial tied her down as his mistress.

But this isn't Beisht herself.

"A water mimic." You grumbled distastefully. Your claws retract and morphed back into human nails. With apparent distaste, you won't let her rile you up in your divine form.

"Ten points to Bakunawa." She said sardonically.

"What are you doing here, Beisht? Your strength wanes-- you can barely maintain your mimic's shape. What could you possibly achieve by such a reckless ambush? Do you realize how idiotic your plan was? Do you have a death wish?"

"Tut-tut! Won't even allow me to speak? Such hostility!" Beisht snickered. "What's with your self-righteous attitude? There are no tales of chivalry and glory born from a wasteland. Don't suffocate yourself with such fake ideals, my fellow monster."

This serpent is the exact opposite of your wife.

"I…" You sighed. You were both equally jaded, the only difference between you two is that one is willing to hide it. "Why aren't you with your husband."

It was not a question yet she humored you anyways. "Trapped down there, but don't worry I'll join him eventually."

As she should.

"I wasn't fucking worried."

"To answer your previous question: I figured I should greet my new neighbor." She laughed. "After all, we're bound to be cellmates."

You clicked your tongue. Her smirk widened. Despite being at the bottom of this struggle, she seemed to be under the impression she had it under control. Your grip on the mimic's wrists tightened.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're a serpent dragon like me, not a pathetic mortal. I'm sure you know what I meant, don't you darling? It's very similar to how Osial won't let me meet other beings."

You refused to meet her gaze.

You know. Everyone knows the look Morax gives you when he thought no one was staring. You know how both his human and draconic hands hover above your own when they shouldn't. They practically mirrored yours one fateful summer on the seaside. They were a striking similarity of who you once were to your wife.

A dragon's love can be suffocating. You admit that you are not free from criticism when you were just as hopeless. You once tried to court your wife by leaving human and animal hearts on her doorstep among other gruesome courtship methods. It was only through her mercy did you learn how love must be kept in moderation. She forgave you of your sins. It was only through her guidance did you learn that love does not translate to possession, nor should it be stifled by rigid rules.

He does not think the same.

Morax is desperately in love with you, but your heart belongs to another. That is a violation of your shared contract that neither of you had to acknowledge, and with how the winds changed and blew the cold away, so too will his disposition.

At that moment, you started to think that gentle reminders of your marriage won't be enough to keep the dragon at bay.

"He wants to lock me up to quench his obsession." You breathed shallowly. "He just hasn't discovered a sociably acceptable reason to do so."

"Smart dragon." She cooed and smoothed out your ruffled human hair. You quietly groaned. "I'm sure we'd be good friends under the sea. You'd be my favorite neighbor."

"I will be your only neighbor."

"Oh? Do you want points for that as well?"

You gritted your teeth. "I don't need your approval."

"Hmm, but you need others, don't you? Poor poor Bakunawa," she mocked.

"Finally got a taste of what it feels like to be accepted by society, only to sink back to the abyss. What a tragic tale."

Beisht looked behind you. "I'll be heading off now, his servant approaches. Do visit my chambers sometimes, won't you, love? I just know we'd make great accomplices."

She kissed your cheek.

"Beis–"

Her water mimic fizzled out.

"Bakunawa, Rex Lapis calls for you."

You snapped out of it.

The last Yaksha met your gaze. His arms were folded and he himself was just as indifferent. This command spells trouble for you, but you cannot bring yourself to complain. Xiao's eyes were tired and you do not wish to add more to his troubles. If he did saw Beisht and did nothing, it was likely due to the karmic binds.

You nodded.

"I'll be there at once, thank you, Xiao."

-------------

In hindsight, you should've been warier at the fact that Morax summoned you close to the shore where Osial was imprisoned in. Yet you still needed to clean up the remains of this war. It is your sworn duty to help Morax's people. Even if it meant going door to door to exterminate foul sea miscreations.

A bit ironic, considering Morax's whole spiel about eating seafood earlier.

"You have called for me, my lord?"

"Bakunawa…" He said. You do not like how he looked at you. "There are things I would like to confess."

You do not like where this is going.

"Go... Go on..."

"Bakunawa, I..."

He blushed as he took your hands. Morax's eyes were directly staring into your soul. You wanted to immediately pull away, but the thought of offending him with that more than your rejection started to creep in. You both stared at each other with uncertainty. From an outside perspective, it would look adorable. From your perspective, this was an absolute nightmare.

"I love you."

"Morax I–" You immediately stammered as he leaned forward.

His lips felt soft when pressed against your palm.

Morax pulled back.

He squinted.

"So... You still chose her."

You looked at your hand. Your wedding ring glowed.

With newfound resolve, you nodded.

"Always."

"I see..." Morax scowled.

"You must hope that you will not regret your choice."

The ground shook below you.

You didn't realize what was happening until you screamed your lungs out from the fall.

"What the– What's this..."

Morax looked down at you, distraught.

"BAKUNAWA, YOU ARE CONDEMNED TO A LIFE OF ETERNAL IMPRISONMENT FOR VIOLATING CLAUSE I OF SECTION A." A mechanical voice echoed around you.

"... What?"

"YOU WILL NOW UNDERGO PUNISHMENT BEFITTING OF TRAITORS. GLORY TO THE PRIME OF THE ADEPTI."

CLINK! CLANK!

You winced. Not due to physical pain, but due to the noises around you. You tried to turn back into a dragon but to no avail. Any effort you had in making the noises stop was futile until you regressed to a shaken mess.

Your eyes started to water as you gazed up at Morax through the glass. He stared back with discontent.

"M-Morax..."

You were wrong-- You were lied to.

Your assumptions and good intentions led you right into the dragon's trap.

You weren't looking at Morax when he was grieving. You were looking at yourself through Morax.

The cold-blooded dragon did not inch closer to you when it rested. It did not take solace in the warmth and kindness you offered. The reason it drew near, the reason it wrapped itself around you, was so it could snare you-- trap you to become his.

It is hard to wake up someone who is pretending to be asleep. And Morax had one eye open this entire time.

With how you ignored his affections for you, perhaps you were pretending as well.

Humans, dragons--- they're no different. All are filled with greed and unadulterated obsession. You never would've thought that a day would come that being shunned by humanity would be more enticing than receiving affection from a fellow dragon. There is no doubt that refusal will end with a terrible fate.

Because divine beings don't truly kill their enemies, they break them.

And you can't turn back to your original form.

You felt like vomiting.

The noise. It's getting louder

They kept clinking.

Clanging.

Clanking.

You could no longer hear your own thoughts.

"Make it stop."

You gritted your teeth as tears start to blur your vision.

You kneeled.

Your nails are dug through the shell of your ears.

You feel blood on your cuticles.

"MORAX MAKE IT STOP DAMNIT!!!"

You were sobbing. You were trembling.

He only looked down on you.

You can't tell what the scowl on his face meant from all the noise.

He left and robbed you of your only view of the outside world.

"MORAX!!! MORAX COME BACK!!!!"

He left you there for two hundred years. Trapped in the shell of the mortals you hated and the sounds they created.

------------

"And so, the terrifying Bakunawa was sealed away for trying to seal our moon! Legends spoke that they had fallen asleep and never reawakened when Osial recently reemerged, but a recent theory emerges from the sea…"

His hooked listeners leaned forward with anticipation, including Zhongli.

"Theorists believe…

That Bakunawa had escaped, and roams Teyvat to this day!"

You laughed.

Your laughter was as misplaced as a joke told at a funeral, but you cannot help it. It was so surreal. The proclamation had you shaking in your seat, holding back tears. You could just die laughing from these hysterics. Your face felt numb. The audience looked at Zhongli's once elegant and composed lover reduced to nothing more than a mere maniacal madman.

It was loud. It was jarring. It was eerie.

Zhongli held your hand to "fix you" and you stilled, but not without a final cackle.

Escaped? What an optimistic assumption! Morax took pity after watching you shrivel up in fear for two centuries. There was no means of escape from a domain created by Lord Guizhong. They all label you a traitor and now they think of you as a miracle worker. Can't they pick a side?

"(Y/n)." Behave yourself. That was a command.

You gave him a taunting look. Your face urged him to 'Go on. Call me by my real name' and he grunted.

"Pfft… Ah, my apologies, my husband," You waved your hand dismissively. Your hands were still jittery, and a few laughs managed to escape your lips. "Clause III, isn't it? I forget that I had come dangerously close to losing it. Do forgive me, everyone."

His grip tightened. Ah, right. You shouldn't mention your "freedom" contract in public.

"Clause III?" The boy behind you shared hushed whispers with his mother.

"… Do you not believe such stories, Mx. (Y/n)?" The storyteller spoke in low tones. "What do you find so joyful about such an alarming tale?"

Ahh, what a lark. You grinned briefly. Such manner of speech does not faze you.

"Oh no, quite the contrary sir I find it to be quite believable!" No man would ever believe such a reply. "Do tell-- What happens next?"

"W-Well," Iron Tongue Tian fixed his collar. One could argue that it was due to the summer heat, but you know better than that. "The tale ends here for today, if there is any more progress, I shall indulge everyone with the next chapter!"

"Oh no! We can't have that now can't we?" You looked around with a faux troubled expression. They stared back at you with varying degrees of discomfort.

Zhongli glared. "(Y/n)."

You sauntered to the stage and patted the storyteller's shoulder.

"Don't worry folks. I, (Y/n), shall continue this tale."

"(Y/N)!"

Zhongli called out to you, louder than before.

The earth trembled and clouds began to gather. Liyue Harbor slowly turned dim as the shades filtered sepia tones. The boy in the crowd held back tears, causing his mother to give you a dirty look. It wasn't just her, everyone looked at you the same way the mortals back home gazed at you.

With fear and hatred.

It was not (Y/n) they were meant to hate, but the true villain who sat with them. Your chest and eyelids felt heavy. But you were easier to hate as you tried to enlighten them with the truth.

Once again, Morax reduced you into nothing more than a blubbering, foolish villain.

The saying remains true. It is hard to wake up someone who is pretending to be asleep.

Finally, you turned to Zhongli with thin lips. He's already in front of you with a hand reached out. Perhaps the only reason why no one dared criticize you in public was because you were this respectable man's spouse. You bit your lip. Deep down, you had never been this upset in over five hundred years. You want to go home.

They were quiet.

There were no pots nor pans nor screaming to be heard, but the silence was just as loud.

"Let's come home, darling." He whispered threateningly.

Home is where your wife was.

"How…" You took his hand and whispered to his ear. Your voice cracked and your grip tightened.

"How can I go home?"

Zhongli did not answer. Instead, he dragged you away from the crowd. Neither of you spoke until you reached your shared house.

"Get some rest."

For once, you complied without question, something Zhongli greatly appreciated. You had enough for today.

You simply nodded and entered your bedroom.

Without warning, Zhongli's arms wrapped around your waist from behind. You stared at it. Those hands. They never once failed to reach out to you, but you lacked the will to grasp them. You shut your eyes close. Maybe it's time that you hold them as Morax insisted.

Your hands lingered above his.

Perhaps it's time you pretend to fall asleep as well.

#yandere fanfiction #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oneshot #yandere zhongli #zhongli x reader #yandere genshin impact #morax x reader #yandere morax x reader #tag: liyue's monsoon #i had a male reader in mind when i wrote this tbh #yandere zhongli x reader #i lowkey simp for this characterization of beisht lol #ansy-writes

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galaxycunt · 6 months

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I Can’t Keep Crying pt 5

Almost done! One more part!! Thanks for joining me on my writing activity I did this week to break up my workload during the day lmao

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

Fluff/Angst

You didn’t go to sleep right away, Buggy talked your ear off about everything and anything. You felt it getting late, closing your eyes to let him know to shut up. You missed sleeping next to him, in his sleep he searched for you, pulling you close. Even when you both rolled over, his hand made its way to yours.

You woke up early to use the toilet, the sea breaking up the sunrise in waves. You can’t help your sticky fingers, thinking of that box on his desk.

You knew what it was, it was the same box you saw months ago. A pretty ring, diamond shining brightly in the middle. It couldn’t have been for you, he definitely stole it. You reasoned that he kept it until the right appraiser came along. It made you panic anyway.

You looked over to the snoring bump under the sheets, he had plenty of time to hock that thing. The anxiety shook you, slipping back between his arms to forget it.

The urge to flee nearly overtook you, reminding you of the full force of terror at the thought of being vulnerable last time. It was stupid, even now. You got the guy, yet again.

Snuggling up with Buggy, you fell asleep until it was midday. He was still beside you, and you kissed him awake.

”You’re still here.”

”Where else would I be?”

He pinched your cheek with a smile, “you’re staying here all day then.”

”No captainly duties today?”

He shook his head, completely relaxed. You liked seeing him like this, away from all the showmanship.

“Well I have sooo much to do today,” you said sliding out the bed.

You were only teasing him, and his hands floated to your shoulders to hold you down. You struggled playfully, deciding to play dirty and poked his sides.

”Hey! Don’t do that!”

”Or what?”

Poke, poke, poke. His hands roamed your body, two could play at that game. With chests heaving, you laid side by side, unsure if you had ever seen him that playful before.

“Would you want to be a part of the show?”

You shook your head, “I’m okay.”

He clicked his tongue, “shame. I’d love to see you in a skimpy outfit.”

”And share the view with everyone?”

“Get to show off the woman on my arm, why the hell not?”

This was a surprise to take in, a welcome change to the man that worked you to the bone. Would this happy mood last? You weren’t sure, his wrath never extended to you in the first place.

Quite the opposite, when you joined up nearly two years ago, he always flirted with you. Always coming to you to fix his costume, or a jacket, or even a bandana of all things. Anything to keep talking to you.

A confession danced on your lips, “you should probably get up. I’ll catch up.”

You swallowed your thoughts with a kiss, Buggy’s eyes never leaving your face. You gently push him off, getting dressed yourself.

”I’ll be right back, baby. Don’t go nowhere, no need to put clothes on.”

You shimmied out of your shorts with a smile, “whatever you say bossman.”

You waited a good ten minutes before you get up, making a beeline for that box. Holding your breath, you made your discovery. The ring was still here.

You didn’t love Buggy, or did you? Did he? Was it a drunken mistake you helped him wiggle out of? You think about his confession, the love gone unrequited a long time ago. His desk drawer, a hidden shrine to his heartbreaks. Those letters must of been from that boy he mentioned.

You felt like shit, laying in bed until he came back. A forced smile on your face, if he was going to ask, if that was even the intention, would you say yes?

You aren’t so sure, the doubt in your mind nagging you.

You aren’t made for love, only to bed pirates and other criminals. Buggy was a cruel man, even if you were too. Even if you weren’t cruel to each other.

If he noticed anything was wrong, he didn’t bring it up. The ship was headed to another village for a pit stop, and Buggy promised to take you out for a date. A do over of sorts, to make up for the last stop. You no longer had things in his cabin, leaving to your room to change clothes.

You run into your friend, pulling her inside.

”The ring is still there.”

”What?”

”Buggy’s ring.”

Her eyes go wide, “oh shit, yeah I remember now. You gonna suck a waiter’s dick again?”

Shame burned your cheeks, “not funny.”

”Sorry, but that was kinda your own fault.”

”I know.”

“He didn’t even bring that sucker out.”

”I know.”

She smirked, “so why so glum, chum?”

“Am I being crazy?”

She nods with a laugh. You can’t help but laugh either, things are a little too good right now. You’ll take what you can get. You return to Buggy with all smiles, ready to set your feet on land.

The swimming thoughts from earlier stuffed themselves in the back of your brain, focusing on the man in front of you as you dine and drink.

Buggy leaned against you in his chair, feet on the table. He had his hair down, and you lazily braid it.

“You should grow it out more, that way I can braid it into a crown.”

He giggled, “do I look like a milkmaid?”

”A very cute one,” you pecked his cheek.

You get up to order more drinks, the bartender barely acknowledging you as you motioned toward your table. The man talking to his friends next to you makes a joke you overhear, and you laughed. He briefly looked over his shoulder, raising his glass to you before returning to his circle.

One of these things set Buggy off, a sour look on his face as your approach him. You gave another peck on his cheek, setting two mugs down.

”You don’t need to owe me anything, just because I’m the captain.”

”What?”

It’s not anger written on his face, “I should’ve let you run off with that guy. That waiter.”

You closed your eyes, “Buggy I don’t want to fight.”

”I’m not fighting, I mean it.”

You give his hand a squeeze, Buggy focusing on the pillar behind you. He gave a small shrug, causing you to frown.

“What happened to clean slate?”

”Oh yeah, that.”

You decided to come clean, “I saw that ring. I shouldn’t have but I did.”

He laughs bitterly, “oh yeah, that thing. A real nice joke, that one.”

You twist your mouth, “I’m not saying no.”

”There’s nothing to say no to.”

”I freaked out. I dunno. Self sabotage, I guess.”

He only nods.

”Nothing wrong with thinking of a future. 10 kids, our own island.”

He laughed at that one, “10?”

You nod, “all named Marvin. Easier that way.”

He still won’t look at you, making you nervous. You drink silently, stealing glances at him. His eyes stay glued to the mug in front of him now.

How do you always find a way to fuck things up?

”Would it make you feel better if I played my accordion naked next time?”

”It would.”

You smiled, “really?”

He finally looked at you, “it’s the most erotic instrument, that’s why they call it a squeeze box.”

You both cackled like madmen, Buggy kissing your hand trying to calm himself down. You don’t think anyone finds Buggy more hilarious than himself. He got up to order drinks, coming back with rum and two shot glasses.

”If you really wanna make it up to me babe, I can think of a trip down memory lane.”

You scrunched your nose, “I’m not fucking you here.”

He shrugged, can’t win them all. He resumed his previous position against your chest, looking up at you with a smile. You can’t help but kiss him a few times.

”Do you mean it?”

”Maybe not 10 kids,” you joked.

”I’m in love with you,” he confessed.

You kissed him, your heart fluttering.

”I love you too.”

You actually mean it this time.

#buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #one piece #buggy x you

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persphonesorchid · 10 months

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Lovin' On You - MYG || Teaser ||

Summary: After what happened at the fair, Yoongi is plagued with a re-occurring nightmare of a life that was once his. For a reason that escapes him, he's held on to the Lover's card.

Genre: Enemies to lovers, fluff, angst.

Teaser Warnings: talking about nightmares, Yoongi and Mc still don't know what to do with themselves. They're honestly so annoying oml.

Masterlist - Here

If you like my content, please consider supporting me - Here

Notes: In extreme Chadwick voice: AS YOU CAN SEE, I AM NOT DEAD. Hello all!! I know you guys have been waiting on this for a long time...writing has been hard lmao. It's still not complete yet, but I've written enough to put together a teaser for you guys! thank you guys for being patient! If you wanna be tagged, let me know!

Read Hatin' On You - Here

Yoongi startles awake, sitting up in his too warm sheets, gasping for air. His heart pounds in his chest like he’s been running, his throat feels raw like he’s been screaming at the top of his lungs. He kicks the tangled covers off and stumbles out of bed. With a hand pressed over his mouth he runs to the bathroom across the hall.

He spills the dinner he had into the toilet, sitting on the cold tiled floor. When he’s done, he sits there and sobs, and he wishes he knew why he was crying. Why the sadness he felt sealed him in this little corner, closing around his throat in a way that makes him gasp for air.

It isn’t his.

This sadness does not belong to him, and Yoongi wishes he could leave it alone. But every night - or ungodly hour of the morning - for the past week, he’s here. Reeling from the too vivid fragments of a dream, a memory that doesn’t belong to him either.

It was his, maybe, a couple lifetimes ago. Where a man and a woman met a tragic end.

He squeezes his eyes shut, wiping his face with the collar of his tee-shirt. He’s tired of this and in general, he’s not gotten much sleep since that night at the fair. Yoongi sighs, long and drawn out, standing on shaky legs to flush the toilet and wobble over to the sink to brush his teeth. He stares at himself in the mirror, toothbrush hanging from his mouth, the mess of his hair and his tired, red eyes.

He wonders how you’re doing. If you’re asleep right now, all warm and cozy in your sheets. Or if you’re in the same predicament as he is. The thought of you going through the same thing doesn’t bring him comfort, instead, worry draws his brows together.

He remembers well the panic you were in, standing in the middle of a storm looking through him. Your fingers were cold when they wrapped around his wrist then, calling his name so softly he’d barely heard you.

He’s been suffering, constantly reliving a moment that wasn’t his. He’d hate if you had to do the same. He’d had to make sure you stayed grounded there with him, in the middle of whatever insane shared subconscious acid trip you’d both went on. He couldn’t let you fall into whatever you were feeling.

“Are you okay?” He ignores the urge to reach for your hand and curls his free one against his thigh.

You finally look at him, raising a brow, “Are you? You look like shit.”

Yoongi’s quite aware of how he looks, he’s not been getting enough rest and it shows. He chuckles though, a brief shake of his shoulders and he shakes his head, looking down at the fried rice in his bowl, “Wow. Thanks, you really know how to compliment a guy.”

“You’re welcome.” You smile, and Yoongi’s lost in it, almost blinded. You let your spoon rest in the bowl, a small furrow between your brows and concern in your eyes. Yoongi’s a bit surprised at that, though, he thinks he should try to get used to it... if you’re gonna be friends and all. “Seriously though, are you?”

Yoongi lets out a breath, tongue poking into his cheek, “Could be better, honestly.” He raises a shoulder in a shrug, “Sleep’s hard to come by.”

You hum softly, sighing, “You too, huh?”

“The dreams...?” You suddenly look as tired as Yoongi feels, nodding your head quietly.

Your eyes shift to somewhere above his head, and something cracks in Yoongi’s chest at the sadness in them. It’s the same as that night, out in the storm, and he doesn’t hesitate to take your hand this time. He reaches across the table, fingers brushing yours first before he draws them closer and into his hand. “Hey, talk to me.”

You let out a soft laugh that sounds sardonic to Yoongi’s ears, but he doesn’t pull his hand away and instead tightens his grip and calls your name softly. You take a breath, something he sees more than he hears, your eyes meet his and there’s a shine to them that makes Yoongi uncomfortable. It burrows into his chest and stays there, gnawing at the strings. He doesn’t want to see you cry so he looks away first and sighs softly.

“I’ve been getting them, too.” He says, still not looking at you, he focuses on the warmth of your hand in his, “Just one, every time.”

The sadness from this morning returns, and Yoongi feels as though he’s standing in that doorway, staring at the woman on the floor with a grief that isn’t his. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, as though it would stop the image from flashing behind them. It doesn’t, and he sees it anyway, like if his eyes are open. He drums the fingers of his free hand against the tabletop in a rhythm and focuses on that for a moment.

“It’s always...” he sighs, “just her...on the floor...” He doesn’t want to say more and he’s glad when you don’t ask him to. He tries not to look at you, because looking at you makes him remember. You’re not her, he reminds himself, though, there’s some similarity in your presence. The feeling of the air in the space you occupy that doesn’t allow him to let it go.

He almost rolls his eyes, really, because why is he so caught up in this? Part of him still believes that what happened that night never did.

But you’re here, you, who just this time last week, he’d wanted nothing to do with. You didn’t matter enough for him to spare a thought if it wasn’t for complaining or trying to rinse Seokjin’s ears out with a few choice words because yes, you - absolutely, most definitely - had to be at the fair with them.

Yoongi still thinks Seokjin traded spots with Jimin to pick you up on purpose. Just out of spite.

He doesn’t think it’s too much of a bad thing now, since really, you’re all he thought of in the days following, and, under no good circumstance, this past week.

You, who shared the same weird moment with him, and that stupid card is sitting on his dresser, still. He’d said that you both should start over, and he meant it. He’d like to backtrack a bit, he thinks, figure out the when and why you both had started out the way you had.

Around the perimeter of the fair, there’s a sparse smattering of trees. It’s not much to hide a person, much less two sneaking around, but if Yoongi remembers correctly; that strange woman’s tent was just at the edge of it. He waits until you’re out of the car, expression a little distrusting – your slightly narrowed eyes giving him a once over. He thinks nothing of taking your hand, tugging you long behind him as he moves around to the corner of the entrance, he peeks around the booth and through the chain-linked fencing. Everyone on the compound seems far enough away, no one close enough to see you two act like teenagers up to no good, one bad step away from getting arrested for trespassing.

“What are you doing?” You ask, loud enough to make Yoongi falter the step he was about to take. He turns to you slightly, lips in a flat line, you stare at him expectantly and Yoongi wave his hand.

“I don’t know, what does it look like we’re doing?” He asks, shaking his head at you before turning around again. The first booth that’s closet to the entrance has people milling about it now, two of them carrying boxes and the other person fumbling with something in their hands.

“I am so not climbing this fence, Yoongi.” You say, and Yoongi feels the finger of your free hand poking his back.

“Obviously, shithead. You wanna get arrested?” Yoongi rolls his eyes skyward and stares for a moment, sighing. “We’re going around, now keep quiet, you’re talking too loud.”

You grumble something to yourself, and Yoongi ignores you, waiting until the folks at the booth seem busy enough not to notice you both; backs to you. He pulls you along beside him, crossing over some shrubbery and into the trees, as you both move further along, there’s more people. The trees do a good job at hiding you both, and Yoongi knows it’s not much further when he sees the bathroom’s chipping paint.

This is a terrible idea, but Yoongi’s had worse. Though, this is very high on his list of bad decisions.

Eventually there’s a break in the chain link fence, where the shrubbery and the sparse trees meet the edge of the compound. The space where he clearly remembers the tent being, is unsurprisingly empty.

“Now what?” You murmur next to him, quietly even though there’s no reason for you to be whispering.

Yoongi lifts a shoulder in a shrug, “Can’t say we didn’t try...Hey-” He reaches for you as you walk past him and onto the compound. He follows – of course he does – grabbing your wrist and tugging you back a little before you can get too far. “There’s nothing here.”

Yoongi scans the area anxiously, knowing his luck, someone’s bound to see you both standing here in broad daylight. It’s unnervingly quiet, save for the faint sounds of people around the compound doing their jobs.

Something settles in your expression that Yoongi doesn’t like, as you stare at the empty lot. There’s a furrow between your brows, teeth worrying at your bottom lip. Yoongi understands, he wants this over with as much as you do. He wants a night where his dreams don’t disturb the little sleep he can catch on a normal day. Not stuck in some endless loop of mishaps.

Yoongi releases his hold, keeping an eye out while you figure out whatever is going on in your head. He wants to ask, not let you sink too far, but shakes his head instead, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

It took a second to realize there was something more in there than his car keys. Small and sleek and making the hair on the back of his neck raise. Yoongi takes a breath, settling his nerves before pulling the item out of his pocket. By now, he’s used to it – stranger things have happened – but it doesn’t change the fact that he left the stupid card on his dresser.

Tagging: @blog-name-idk @luaspersona @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @mssukeyna @madbutgloriouspond @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @astormunchar @euphoricfilter @ketchupaeternum @@matchy6812 @eoieopda @eren-fall @xpeachesncream

Sequel tags: @potazaas @syakirahazaa @yourmomis14eh @petalsofink @princxssly82 @iwasfuckinginnocentonce

#persphonesorchid #min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #yoongi x reader #suga #agust d #bts suga #hatin' on you #Lovin' on you #fic teaser #suga x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff

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