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thatmerlinwizard13 · 2 years

Text

Under the Stars | Bruno Madrigal

18+, MINORS DNI!!

Summary: After a few months of dating, Bruno takes you to his secret hideout in Casita.

Pairing: Bruno Madrigal x Fem!Reader

Tags: Fluff, smut, asexual, licking, swearing, soft

Word Count: 1729

“I wanna show you something.”

Bruno gently took your hand and pulled you up the staircases in his room. All of them. After a few months of dating and having become a social outcast in town, you grew weird and a little more distant, sometimes going a full day without letting go of Bruno’s hand. And he was very sweet; squeezing your hand and making sure you were okay.

There were days where you would blankly stare at the walls and didn't eat a thing. You had a small breakdown in the bathtub once where Bruno found you, soaked and wrinkled from hours in the water. "y/n?" You hadn't answered him, simply took his hand and held it to your wet cheek. He'd climbed into the bathtub with you, cleaning your back and braiding your hair until you felt calm enough to get out again. You tried to feel Bruno near as much as possible. He was your anchor - he was your haven through this all.

You climbed the stairs and for the first time in your life, you saw the opening to Bruno’s cave. “Are we going in there?” you asked him but he shook his head. To the side, there was a small hole in the ceiling, the evening wind blowing through it. You followed Bruno as he grabbed some stones and hoisted himself up on the roof. “I am actually – kind of sorry, like I always wanted to eh, to show you this place. It’s where I went when things got a little bit too much for me.”

On the roof there were several pillows and matrasses, as the view was of a million stars in the sky. You mouthed a little ‘wow’ as you sat down. The whole floor was just a soft pillow to lie down in and gaze up to the sky. “What if it rains?” You ask as you take off your sandals and sit down cross-legged on the floor. Bruno sits down behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Casita always puts a little glass roof over it whenever Pepa has had a bad day. That way, it still feels like you’re outside in the rain without actually getting wet.”

You chuckled. “The stars are beautiful tonight.”

“They are,” he answered after which he pointed to the sky. You followed his finger with your eyes. “Those two,” he said, “the ones that don’t shine so bright.”

You did indeed see two little stars, side by side, that were very dim and sad compared to all the other brilliant crystals shining down on you. “That’s us,” he whispered. You laughed and let your back rest against his chest. “We are pretty pathetic compared to the rest of this family.” He pressed a kiss against your neck and you let the feeling tingle through your body. “Yeah,” he chuckled as he tickled you in your side, “we’re so sad.”

You laughed and tickled him back and for a moment; you were teenagers again – tickling and laughing and playing as you rolled over the roof, throwing one pillow after the next. One landed in his face and he pretended to get knocked out. When you rushed to him to check if he was okay, he grabbed you tight and flung you around. You felt carelessly happy again, maybe the first time in months. “My name is Hernando,” he said, pitching his voice lower than it actually was. You rolled over with laughter from this persona. He raised his arms all creepily as the hood concealed his face. “I am not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of anything!”

You put your face behind your shawl, looking like a mighty sorcerer, or something and laughed like an evil witch. “And my name is Nina, I’m a witch and I’m not afraid of the fearless Hernando!”

Then he attacked you, pushing you down to the ground as he pretended to eat you. You both laughed so hard, your stomach physically hurt. He had pinned you to the ground though. He had won the game. After you had laughed your laughs, Bruno also realized he had pinned you. You took his neck and pulled him nearer for a kiss. He wasn’t pulling away, instead, he let his body melt over yours, letting his fingers run through your hair as he kissed little kisses on your mouth and your eyes and your neck and – wow.

He eventually raised his arms and took off his poncho with a little struggle. You lay a hand on his leg. “What are you doing?” You asked as he also unbuttoned his shirt with fidgeting hands. He stopped with what he’s doing and looks at you questioningly. “I just – I thought that-”

“But are you sure?” You ask him. He’s expressed multiple times that he doesn’t need it. That he’s fine without all of that in our relationship. You feel your ears turning red. He nods softly. “I feel like – I don’t know. I want you to see me. Without boundaries or something.” He sniffed. “I’m just eh… I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do.”

He strokes your face and you stroke his after which you climb out from under him and take the position he had over you. His giant eyes watch you intently as you take off your dress. You both feel it, the electricity in the stars and between you. You lean forward and kiss him like he kissed you, on his eyes, his mouth – you bit his ear slightly. You have no idea what you’re doing either, but after lots of fumbling and giggles, you unbuckle his belt and help him pull down his pants. “You’re so pretty,” you whisper, the words making him whine as he fixed his eyes on everything you were doing. You knew he loved those little compliments, had him eating right out of your palm.

“y/n,“ he almost whined, rutting up against you as your fingers trailed along the waist band of his underpants. His fingers ghosted over yours, a testing press that made you gasp. “So wet,“ he said mostly to himself. You helped him tug down the last scraps of clothing and took off yours as he sat upright, instantly kissing you again once you were near. You sat on his lap, letting your fingers curl through his hair as he nudged his leg up against your now bare cunt as you rocked against him.

“Bruno“ you said breathlessly, pulling away and holding his face in your hands “need you. Need you right now.“

That breathy whimper left his lips again and it seemed to urge him forward. He turned you over with far too much care but you’d expect nothing less from him, before hoisting you up on a square-like couch in the corner. You shivered slightly, the cool untouched fabric of the pillows a stark contrast to the warmth of his lap.

His lips were on you again, but only briefly.

“Can I taste you? “ he asked, eyes wide and practically pleading. You almost moaned just at the idea, nodding perhaps a little too enthusiastically at his request.

“Yes. Yes Bruno please…” He pressed another kiss to your lips before dropping onto his knees, never letting his hands leave you. He pulled you to the edge of the couch and carefully pushed your legs apart.

His eyes didn’t leave you once as he pressed soft, wet kisses to your thighs. You clenched around nothing just at the sight. This man would be the death of you. Your breath hitched in your throat as he drew closer, his own hot breath fanning over you and making you shiver again. His fingers carefully spread you apart, his nose brushing against your clit. Your head fell back with a soft whine.

“Bruno…“ he was still watching you intently as he licked a slow stripe between your folds, eliciting the most beautiful sounds from your mouth.

“So good,” he mumbled against you, confidence seemingly drowning him as he began to devour you as if you were his final meal. He’d never done this before, you’d never felt this before. But it was heavenly. You were now quite certain that to please you, he’d quite happily give you orgasm after orgasm without even bothering about himself. He’d go at it for hours, making you come over and over until you physically couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck- Bruno-” you gasped, hands sliding into his hair and tugging on his curls.

When he slowly slid a finger into you, you moaned so loud they probably heard you two floors down, even more so when a second quickly followed. You quickly slammed one hand against your own lips. His mouth was still preoccupied with your clit, and the mix of his tongue and his thick fingers curling up inside of you was too much. You could never get anything going with your own fingers, but his were magic. “Mi amore,” you whined. “So close.”

He curled his fingers again, hitting the perfect spot that was your undoing and barely a minute later you were coming. Hard. You clenched your thighs around his head, moans and sighs loudly falling from your throat. Bruno continued to lap at you gently, helping to ride you though it and make sure every single second lasted as long as possible.

“¿Estás bien?”

You gave a small laugh and nodded. You ran a hand over his hair and then nudged your fingers under his chin and scratchy beard, urging him to stand again. He stood up from the floor and pulled you along. He kissed you, making you moan into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his lips.

“Shower?“ He asked as you lay your forehead on his shoulder, his small figure perfect for the gesture. “Yeah,” you breathed, your body still tingling with sensation. This was perfect. He was perfect.

Bruno grabbed a big blanket from the floor and tried to lift you into his arms, failing miserably. “Come here,” you said as you offered him a place under the blanket with you. He put one arm over your shoulder and held the other side of the blanket with his free hand.

This way, you both tiptoed to the bathroom with a million whispered I love you’s on the way.

_______________________________________________

My Masterlist

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themanthemyththeverite · 3 years

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New Days

A decade ago, dreams had been easy to come by. You had been barely but a teenager, stumbling your way through school, blundering over social interactions with barely pubescent morons, arguing over the most useless simplicities with your parents. Life seemed so shaky, yet still so certain to you then, a clear path to college ahead of you, where you hoped you would eventually go on to graduate school and earn yourself enough distinction to land a solid job, maybe pull a long-term girlfriend with you in the process, get settled, then mess around for a few years before getting married, start a family, live through your middle years with relative peace and the occasional crisis, transition into old age peacefully and die happily, content and warmed by the comfort of a large, loving network of friends and family.

But times had changed.

Everything had changed.

That much was evident to you as you laid on a makeshift bed, a darkened room of the abandoned hospital around you, your left arm extended onto a desk for operation.

Your prosthetic arm.

You certainly never saw that one coming.

It was a metallic arm, resistant to rust and corrosion, filled with wires and plating to communicate properly with your mental impulses, an intricate machine, an extension of your body that was held in place to your shoulder socket by several tightly drilled screws, embedded tightly into your flesh like the shrapnel that had torn through your body that day.

But on the exterior of that mechanical, cold steel surface there were scratches of quiet, reserved emotions, colorful phrases scrawled on the edges, some fading, some still there. Phrases that warned you of the dangers of dying, and the impeding murder that would follow. Others were warm-hearted and sappy.

On the inside, there was a small compartment, a tiny space just above the wrist with nothing inside. It had been designed to carry smoke grenades, but those had been used up long ago, instead now housing a small (but empty) bottle of hand sanitizer for more presentable means.

Silently, the operation began.

There was pain, then a rush of fear as you felt the familiar process of your arm slowly being disassembled, opened up mechanically like a power box. It had been a long time since your last check-up, and your near-death experience surely didn’t help as a small cascade of sand poured out of the cracks and gaps onto the floor. There was a crackle, a twitch, sudden impulses running through your mind that forced your hand to clench and unclench as the technician tested the gears of your body, manipulating you like a puppet.

You flexed your machine bicep, forearm, tricep, even your deltoid under the dexterous fingers of the mechanic, fiddling and rewiring parts to improve performance, to make it a more efficient tool. It was silent again, then your arm went limp, the connection of the wiring having been severed from your brain.

Several tense moments passed as the technician stared down intently at your exposed inner arm, fingers intently looping and connecting various little gadgets, adjusting measurements and tweaking screws.

“I’m going to have to recalibrate your arm,” the masked worker said suddenly, her voice coming out muffled from under the sound of a blowtorch she was using to weld the arm shut again and from the metal visor that protected her face. You just nodded, your throat bone-dry.

The pain came back again, a temporarily pleasurable feeling until it quickly escalated, flooding over your mind like an endless inundation of acid. Your vision turned spotty; were you crying? Were you screaming? You couldn’t even tell through the skull-splitting headache that took you over like a drug. Definitely the craziest, trippiest shit you’d ever felt.

Nausea. Dizziness. Anxiety.

Your memories flashed through your head, various embarrassing incidents, prideful incidents, incidents where you had truly felt happy. It was like watching a television program.

You could hardly breathe, gasping like a fish out of water when everything suddenly stopped, your body returned to normal, heartbeat slowing, eyes blinking back tears as your technician leaned over, pushing up the metal face mask to reveal a kind, familiar face smiling wistfully down at you with what she had been looking for in hand.

It was a tiny bullet, buried inside of the maze of wires, having pierced through the side of your body before lodging itself in the crook of your elbow.

Her name was Yoohyeon, and she was the only part of your planned future that had come true. The only part of your life that had mattered more to you than life itself, the only living reason for fighting and rebelling. Reason enough to take the bullet. Reason enough to collapse in the middle of a wasteland, starving and thirsty, with the expectation to never get back up again.

You wouldn’t have gotten back up again if not for her and her squad, scavenging in unsafe territory for spare munitions and food, running into your motionless body, partially covered in sand and marked only by the sheathe of the hand-crafted dagger she had made for you before you had left. You remembered hearing Dami’s voice. Or maybe it was Siyeon’s? Bora’s? Even while lucid you could no longer recall, but you knew that you could feel Yoohyeon’s thin arms wrap around you, pulling you off the ground and lifting you all the way back to their hidden base of operations in a mental asylum. Even more acutely, you could have sworn you felt drops of rain fall onto your face, even as the hot desert sun shined down mercilessly.

But who really knew? The mind of a starved, delirious and injured man is truly not one to be trusted.

“Are you okay?” she asked, a tender hand caressing your face as if to soften to last thirty seconds of agony, wiping away some of the sweat that had built up on your forehead. “You really should take care of yourself better. Your arm looked in as bad shape as it’s ever been in.”

Her fingers tapped the sheets of metal rhythmically, her eyes boring into her work. “Honestly, it’s a miracle it didn’t just break down with all of the sand interfering with the wiring...”

Her voice trailed off as you breathed heavily for several moments, closing your eyes again and sagging into the blankets while Yoohyeon carefully held your cold, metal hand in her tiny palms, the feeling of her warmth relaxing you, even though you knew it was probably freezing to her.

Your eyes traced and retraced her features, high cheekbones, sharp nose, silky hair, a dazzlingly timid smile waiting to top it all off, and you had no idea how you had survived for so long without the sight of her, alone and struggling in the desert without any hope of salvation.

Then the silence came deafeningly around the two of you, a flustered blush burning through both of your cheeks awkwardly, the tension rising.

Say something, you moron.

But what? You were somehow dying to speak, yet your mind was entirely blank on everything you wanted to say.

How long had it been? Six months? A year? Two years?

“Y-Yoohyeon...”

She nodded quickly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear and leaning in to listen to your raspy voice, struggling to make out the words to communicate the overwhelming feeling of loss in your gut.

When you hesitated, she quickly backed off, thinking that you were trying to communicate something else. “It’s okay, don’t talk right now. I’ll get you some water and-”

“...I-I’m sorry,” you croaked out through a dry throat, your fingers clenching around hers as she began to move towards the bottled water, a look of heart-wrenching melancholy on her face as she slowly turned to look down with a smile. Your voice was quiet and hoarse from a lack of use, cracking pathetically as if you were trying to hit high notes in a karaoke bar. “I’m so sor-”

“Shhhhhhh, don’t be,” she tried to assure you, even as her own voice began to break, her eyes watering with unshed tears that she dabbed out quickly with the corners of her sleeves. “You need to drink something, you’re dehydrated.”

She tried to pull away again but your newly fixed arm held fast, holding her back with you tightly, but not too tightly.

“S-Stay,” you coughed out, groaning at the pain in the gunshot wound in your side. “Please?”

So with a reluctant sigh, she sat back down on the stool, holding your hand tightly while you looked as pale as death on the bed.

“You’re just as clingy as ever,” she mumbled quietly, tracing random patterns on your palm distractingly.

“It’s just the sand, I’m sure.” Your tone was in jest, but your expression was mixed with anguish as another jolt of pain rumbled through you with striking effect. “Fuck, that burns.”

The roaring silence resumed, a flood of languishing awkwardness dancing around the room the same way Muhammad Ali had done in his fights with Sonny Liston.

“Listen, I-”

“Minji and the others came back later than planned,” Yoohyeon interrupted with an almost monotonous, concrete inflection grittily coming out of her throat. “They tried not to tell me, but...I knew the instant I saw their faces.”

It was poisonous, each word, like vomit, stomach bile, lurching out of her like curses that she didn’t mean but had to say.

“They all thought—I thought—you were dead.”

Her eyes, her brilliant, brilliant eyes that shined like beacons truly seemed to dampen for a moment, dimming as she looked to the dirty floor in a daze.

“Yet, here you are,” she laughed softly, turning to place a hand on your cheek. “Just the same as the day when I found you.”

That day when she had found you, bleeding out on the doorstep of your burning house, your family’s corpses strewn around you while you struggled to stay conscious with a grievous arm injury.

You had to swallow another bout of tears at the thought, her hand softly tracing your messy jawline and weak stubble that had begun to build up under your chin.

“A lot has changed,” she said with a certain finality, staring down into your eyes with nostalgia, despair, anger, surprise, happiness, hope.

At her words, you chuckled quietly, your own hand rising to cover hers on your face. “I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.”

A beat.

“I tried, I really did, it’s just when the ringing and the gunshots stopped and the... the...ugh, everything...they were just gone.”

For a moment, her eyes stared into yours, as if to try and read your mind for the truth.

“I woke up alone, surrounded by bodies and dust, rubble and blood, half buried in concrete slabs of city pavement,” you said, though it sounded strangely desperate to you despite your steady voice. A plea for understanding.

She seemed to get the message, and slowly, she nodded at your explanation, soothingly cupping your face and brushing back your messy hair.

“I missed you so, so much, Yoohyeon, I-”

“I missed you too. And now, you’re back,” she whispered, interrupting you with a light punch to the chest, her other hand feeling the steady rise and fall of your heart within your ribcage. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, her hands feeling the warmth through your skin.

“Are you...are you really here?”

It suddenly dawned on you how surreal it must have seemed for her to suddenly uncover the body of an old friend buried in sand in the middle of the desert, and you laughed quietly, wiping away a happy tear before nodding, your own hands coming to rest over hers, basking in the warmth of the brightest, luckiest dream you ever had the privilege to have.

“I’m here.”

Slowly, after several moments of still, sweet tranquility, she moved onto the bed, curling up next to you with a sigh of contentment, her hands tilting your head to face her as she gazed at you in a way that...god, you just wanted to freeze time and stare back into her eyes forever, to drift off in this tiny bubble of time and drift off into the abyss, spending eternity with the person you loved.

The time you had spent apart, the aching in your gut that had called you back somehow, all the way to the place where you wanted to be the most. All of it was too good to be true, and certainly too shocking to be confined to something as substantive as time.

But alas, seconds ticked by, and just as you were leaning in, your lips closing the distance, there was a quiet shuffle, a creak of the door, and a crack of light slipped in like a thief at dead of night.

“What are you two doing?”

You, as well as Yoohyeon, jumped, turning to see an amused Dami peer into the dark room from the doorway.

“What?”

“What are they doing?”

“What’s going on?”

“I know you guys care about each other and everything, but can you save the fucking for-”

A scandalized gasp.

“Bora!”

You both knew that your little reunion would have to wait as your friends burst into the room, swarming around you with knowing looks as Yoohyeon clambered out of the bed awkwardly, blushing when Bora whistled her approval.

“See? I told you, they were totally fonduing before we-”

“It’s none of our business, you nosy perv,” Minji shot back, smiling at you warmly as the rest of them crowded around your bed, observing your broken and battered self. It was a far cry from the unwavering and stubborn person you used to be, but all of you knew it was only a matter of time before you would return to that state of naive self-confidence. “How are you doing?”

“I’m quite well, tha-”

“Where’ve you been?” interrupted Gahyeon with an inquisitive tick of the lips, while Dami looked on with the same chic expression of indifference she always wore.

You opened your mouth to speak when there was a loud clattering sound by the door, and six heads whipped around instantly to stare down the offending Yoohyeon, who had been trying to sneak out when she knocked over a piece of medical equipment.

“Where are you going?”

“Yeah, what are you doing?”

“Get back here!”

The voices of the people around you were deafening, but you couldn’t help but laugh along, ignoring the pain ringing out from your ribs.

It’s good to be home.

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

While the rest of the day was quick, breathless, passing by faster than a crack of lightning, the night was not so simple.

The darkness was unsettling, mysterious, dangerous, and though the crickets chirped as they always would, the shrill vibrations bouncing through the broken windows of the hospital, the shards of glass and smears of blood along the walls were a constant reminder of your collectively permanent fear.

There were no corpses, no, those had moved on long ago to find a new resting place, but as the wind blew in through the cracked holes, disturbing the dust and dirt on the floor, the shadows that flickered along with the moonlight seemed to carry a very real, physical power to them, like visages of monsters you would rather forget about.

You stood at the end of the hallway in front of a door, staring past the glaring moonlight that swirled through, watching the stairwell door as if something might burst through at any moment, despite the fact that you had been shown the thick wooden barricades against the other floors.

You could still hear the groans coming from the other side of those doors, the rattling chains that easily kept the doors shut, yet still seemed to strain and threaten to break with no warning.

At least I’m not alone anymore.

Shaking your head, you cleared your thoughts of paranoia and anxiety before turning to face the door in front of you.

It was a smooth door, clean, with the marks of someone having polished it haphazardly, wildly scrubbing it with little real regard for the cleanliness but really just to get it done with.

The door seemed large and wide, a great big hulking chunk of wood with a circular knob that looked just like the kind that was jammed and would slide out of your grip no matter how hard you tried to turn it to open. Oddly enough, the door was pissing you off, taunting you like it was some kind of sage, which was obviously a ridiculous thought since it was literally just a door.

Not only was this door just a door, the door next to the one you were facing looked exactly the same, but looked as normal and peaceful as any other door might look.

“I must be going crazy,” you mumbled, raising your hand to knock when you hesitated, wrist trembling in anticipation. Do I knock? Do I not knock? How hard do I knock? How many times should I knock? But again, if I don’t knock, what do I do? Maybe I should just knock. Or maybe not. Should I?

“If you’re looking for Yoohyeon, her room is one down,” came a voice, disinterested and bored from behind you, your hand lowering sheepishly at the knowledge someone had seen you fidget in front of door like a stalker. Seconds later, Dami pushed past you, opening the door and looking back at your awkward self still standing in front of the same door. “You’ve got things to sort out with her, I’m sure. Just don’t be too loud about it.”

You nodded dumbly, still frozen in place.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Do you need something?”

There was a beat of silence before you responded.

“No, I, um...thanks?”

Her gaze didn’t change, but she gave you a curt nod before shutting the door in your face, the sound echoing down the hall.

You could’ve sworn you heard a snort from behind the door, but you paid it no mind, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your jeans, your legs slowly shuffling forwards, stopping in front of the next door.

Robotically, almost subconsciously, your hand lifted, knuckles braced, before you rapped firmly against the door once, twice, then three times, every sound bouncing around the walls of the asylum. Maybe I’m crazy and I’m just dreaming this whole thing.

Then the door opened, revealing a cautious face, peering out curiously to see the source of the disturbance. Her eyes seemed to brighten at the sight of you, her door opening slightly more, candlelight illuminating her room brightly.

“Oh, hey. I actually...I wanted to see you,” she said quietly, chewing her bottom lip nervously before her usual toothy grin was back. “Come on in.”

Color.

That was your first though as you observed her room, bright shades of pink, yellow, blue, red, practically any sort of vibrant, neon color was present here, like some sort of dreamy bubble that existed apart from the reality you both lived in.

All of the color that stood out in the room were accentuated further by the abundance of candles lining every dark corner, lighting up the room like it was the Festival of Lights or something. Before, you might have laughed at the childish, almost ridiculous displays of innocence that were so useless when every day, neither of you knew if you might have to kill someone to survive. Yet now, as you stood in her room, smelling her faint scent, feeling the energy of her personality jump out around the walls, you simply enjoyed the fact that all of it was genuine and true, an honest representation of the kind of person Yoohyeon really was.

A soft, tender, misplaced girl in the middle of a freakish world that should never have happened.

“Now I know what you’re gonna say about the decor, but I swear-”

“I love it.”

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, looking you up and down as if to make sure you were okay. “What?”

“I like it,” you repeated to her, laughing softly while brushing a hand over a tiny Pikachu toy that you had found for her as a gift when both of you were on a raid for supplies. “You still kept this thing?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” she shot back, snatching it out of your hand before placing it back where it belonged on the shelf, amongst its other companions. “You gave it to me.”

Both of you took a moment to take in the nostalgia that drifted in the air, an inhalant that both of you breathed freely.

“I thought you hated this stuff.”

“Like I said, it’s probably just the sand,” you joked again, and she punched your arm gently, sitting down on the edge of the bed, a serious look crossing her face again.

You moved to sit down as well when your leg bumped into a plastic box, hidden out of sight on the floor. When you picked it up to inspect it, you were surprised to see that it was filled with wrinkled pieces of paper and tissue, all of which was absolutely crammed into it like little foldable sardines.

“What’s this?”

“That was from your birthday last year,” she mumbled as she took it from you, stuffing it back underneath the bed to your amusement.

“Wow, pretty late for a birthday gift,” you laughed, sitting next to her and taking her hands in yours, rubbing them together gently. Compared to the solid steel of your palm, her fingers were weak and soft, mere cotton in the grip of a rough machine. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.”

She leaned away, pouting cutely to fight the smile on that was breaking out on her face like an infectious disease.

There was a lull in the conversation, but the comfort was clear to you, from the way she was smiling to the embarrassed side glances she was shooting at you.

“You know, when you stick out your lips like that you look exactly like a pufferfish.”

Finally, she laughed with you, her body leaning into your shoulder gently like a sack of potatoes, chin digging into the corner of your collarbone, eyes staring into yours, lips curving wryly. The air suddenly grew heavy in your lungs, the sudden density making you somewhat short of breath as your heart raced in your chest.

“I love you.”

A spur of the moment decision, a sudden phrase, filled with everything you had wanted to say to her while you were gone. From a logical perspective, it was a really stupid thing to say, but you didn’t have the heart to keep it contained any longer.

Really, it was impressive you hadn’t shouted it the instant you saw her.

She seemed to scan you for a second, pupils flicking up and down your face with a hopeful smile, that same boundless, yet wistful smile, so endless that it seemed to stretch that moment infinitely.

Then in that same instant, it was gone, that millisecond of time slipping through fingers infinitely quickly, and she looked down to the floor, suddenly noticing the white gauze poking out from under your shirt.

“What’s that?” she asked, changing the subject to more pragmatic matters.

“First person I met for two and a half years,” you chuckled, wincing a little when she touched the bandage gently with a hand, checking it instinctively. “Thought he was a funny little guy, until he tried to shoot me.”

She hardly even registered your words, fully focused on prodding at the hole in your side, her fingers pulling up your shirt with a sad sort of flourish.

“He what? Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

You laughed, pushing her gently when you saw how inordinately concerned she was, eyes widened comically.

“I’m fine, relax. You should’ve seen the other guy.”

“Still...”

She looked unconvinced.

“Do you want me to disinfect it again?”

“No, I’m fine,” you insisted but she ignored you, reaching under her bed and grabbing a separate plastic box, smaller, but filled to the brim with isopropyl alcohol packets. “Seriously, don’t waste that stuff on something like this.”

“It’s a gunshot wound, you moron,” she scolded. “Hold still.”

“It only grazed me.”

“Yet you passed out in the middle of the desert with it.”

She gave you a pointed look, and you relented, sighing as she tore open a small packet, wiping some of the dried blood and such that had bled through the gauze with a pained look on her face.

“You didn’t think this might be an important medical issue to tell me about?” she scoffed as she stood up, moving to grab other medical boxes when you stopped her, grabbing her hand while kneeling.

“Yoohyeon, I told you, I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt, I’m not burning up with a fever, and I feel great! Seriously, it’s not a big deal.”

“You just thought ‘hey, gunshot wounds aren’t serious’? I mean, honestly, you’re such a fool sometimes, you know that?”

You laughed at her, standing up and pulling down you shirt, extending your arms triumphantly. “But I’m your fool.”

“If you keep up with the delirium act, I might just lock you up in a-”

You silenced her easily, your lips pressing against hers softly for the first time in years, yet still just as tender and gentle as you had always remembered it to be, and you let out a mental exhale, relaxing into the motions as she sent sparks flying through your brain, your bodies melting collectively into one big puddle of longing, finally colliding together after so long.

It was like a long awaited breath after a lengthy dive underwater, the first step of a pilgrim after having been at sea for months, the last sentence in a multi-novel book series.

All of the tension in her body slipped away and softened, smoothing out like a piece of paper, creasing and flattening with perfect reversibility, and your right arm naturally found its way around her back, holding her close, while your left supported the back of her head, softly stroking her long, thick sheets of hair.

Perhaps you needed to breathe. Maybe you needed food. Water. But years could have passed by in the blink of an eye, her lips on yours, kissing you cleanly, filled with nothing but devotion from her to you, and you to her. It was quiet. Chaste, almost, and if not for the look that she gave you after she pulled away, you might have assumed it was over.

But no, it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

She pushed you back, forcing you to scoot backwards on the bed until you ran into the headboard, your lips still attached to hers as she curled her body around yours, limbs coiled and intertwined together like vines on the same tree. She rolled you over, straddling you on the soft mattress while your lips finally broke apart, breathing heavily.

“I missed you.”

Your quiet confession was heavy and weighted, even despite the fact it had been said before, and she smiled down on you, helping you pull off your shirt before taking her own off, leaving her in a thin, grayish bra.

“Prove it.”

What was meant to be a challenge to your words sounded more like a cry, an SOS, a plea for a night to remember, a night that burned and smoldered with emotion.

So you obliged, letting your hands start up at her face, touching every curve and contour of her nose, her cheeks, your thumb teasing her bottom lip before sliding to her neck, her collarbone, her bony shoulders, skinnier than ever from malnutrition. Then your hands moved down to her chest, squeezing a soft mound through her bra, a quiet moan tickling your ears as it came out.

Your metallic hand slipped around her, undoing the clasp singlehandedly just like you used to, and she laughed at your bravado. Even she had never figured out how you did it. “You haven’t forgotten any of your tricks, have you?”

You grinned cheekily up at her as you let one hand circle over her now-naked breasts. “I’ve dreamed about tonight—” your mouth nipped at the soft skin of her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark—“more than you could even know.”

You pinched a nipple, tugging it slightly as she began panting on top of you, eyes half-lidded and getting more needy by the moment. “Every single time I closed my eyes—” your free hand tickled her stomach, slipping further down to tease her wet sex—“this was all I could think about.”

“Yeah? Well—ah—what did you d-do to me?” She sighed as you pushed a finger into her, pumping slowly.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You teased for a moment more, taking her other nipple into your mouth and sucking on it before withdrawing, your hands pushing on her shoulders so that you were the one sitting up and she was laying down, chest rising and falling steadily with each labored breath.

“Don’t worry,” you assured her with a soft smile. “We’ve got all the time in the world for me to show you.”

At your words, she nodded tentatively, and you quickly leaned down, pulling her legs apart and helping her undress, revealing her panties, damp with arousal. Your fingers tested the water, prodding at her slit, running up and down her puffy lips as she continued to squirm, breaths coming hot and heavy at your slow pace.

“P-Please, don’t tease,” she groaned quietly down to you, legs twisting around as you made quick work of her last piece of clothing, finally leaving her nude and natural beneath you, her own hands beginning to try and join you, but you stopped her.

“Patience, patience. Just relax,” you soothed, your tongue flicking out to taste her nectar, her distinct flavor from your memories flowing onto your tongue as you drifted it over her clit. “Remember when I ate you out in that closet while everyone else was eating in the same room?”

“H-How could I forget?” she said shakily back down to you, letting out a quiet moan when you slipped two fingers into her, letting them do their work inside while you teased her clit with your mouth. “You were very naughty.”

Her thighs quickly began to tighten around your head, holding you in place as she shuddered, eyes fluttering closed from the electric pleasure, filling her up like air in a balloon. Her hands ran through your hair, tugging and playing with your hair as she struggled to contain herself, her whole body melting at the end of your tongue while you continued unabated.

“You just taste so good,” you mumbled as you ate her out, almost smothered by how tightly her legs were wrapped around your head, her hands pushing you as far as they could into her sopping wet heat. “I guess I couldn’t help myself then.”

She might have tried to respond, but you chose that moment to deliver a particularly flat and harsh lick to her clit, and the reaction was instantaneous, her back arching into the air, a loud moan of satisfaction filling your ears as she felt herself tip dangerously towards her climax.

“O-Oh my god, please, right there, right there,” she rambled out as your fingers curled in her, stretching her out further. Her body was tense, taut, like a bow notched with an arrow of pure, sensual release that was just begging to be released.

But despite it all, she held back admirably, eyes squeezed shut, cries growing louder and louder, higher and higher, until all that you could hear were her whines of stimulation, mixed with soft whimpers of desire that rang in your ears like sweet, sweet melodies.

“I’m so close, god, please,” she whispered to you, hair spread out everywhere, head tilting to look down at you while you whittled away at her endurance, that tiny string that tethered her to conscious thought, just on the boundary of momentary, excruciating bliss. “Are you really going to keep teasing me?

“No, no, there’ll be nights for more of that later,” you said, temporarily pausing with your tongue though your fingers continued to piston in and out of her. “Tonight, I just want to see you cum.”

Her eyes cracked open slightly at your words before shutting again, another one of your fingers slipping inside of her as you watched her completely fall apart, yet still stay composed, your fingers slowly accelerating, drenched in her fluids. “You know, I love it when you’re loud...”

She shook her head, as if to shake off some inner demon, but you continued.

“...and when you tremble and fight it...”

She only thrashed more, her hand coming to cover her mouth as her walls tightened and tightened and tightened around your fingers.

“...Come on. Just let go,” you coaxed softly before you lowered your head again, sucking on her clit with just enough pressure to force her to finally give in, her orgasm washing over her in a rush, a wave of electric tremors running through her body, her hands tugging on your hair blindly, her legs wrapping around you even more tightly, and your personal favorite: the long, hauntingly beautiful moan that seemed to float past the hand covering her mouth and straight into your head, ringing like an addictive tune.

Her eyes opened slowly as she got over the aftershocks of her climax, fixating on you intently with a look of half-satisfaction and tenderness.

“You’re overdressed,” she pointed out, weakly sitting up and crawling to the edge of the bed, where you had slipped your pants off, tossing them away behind you at her words.

Her fingers, dexterous as ever, slipped into your boxers, feeling your throbbing length up and down, gently fondling your shaft and balls with an angelic touch. She looked up at you, smiling as she saw the way you flinched at her touch, your cock already rock hard at her stimulation.

“I’ve got a few things to show you too,” she teased amusedly, pulling down your restraining garment and letting your length sit in her grasp, just in front of her face and her waiting lips.

Slowly, with her eyes still locked onto yours, she let you slip into her mouth, her lips cushioning the sides of your shaft softly, the heat of her mouth instantly enveloping your cock with an irresistible warmth, her tongue gently swirling around your tip and tasting some of the precum that leaked out.

Her cheeks were only slightly hollowed, her head moving back and forth slowly, focusing on the first few inches first, covering you in her spit, soft hums emanating from her throat while she slurped on your cock, doing her best to please you.

“You haven’t forgotten anything either,” you murmured down to her, one hand petting her head approvingly as she slowly began to expand her horizons, taking more and more of you down her throat and making you groan at the feeling. “God, you’re good at that.”

She smiled through a mouthful of cock, finally pulling back for breath while jerking you off, her mouth quickly moving down to suckle on your balls, taking each one in for a few seconds before letting them go with a pop.

“Does this feel good?” she asked, observing you inquisitively while you squirmed in her grip, firm and soft at the same time.

“Fucking amazing,” you replied, and she looked pleasantly embarrassed for a moment before she took you into her mouth again, letting your cock slide all the way back this time so that it hit the back of her throat, a choked gurgle vibrating against your shaft.

Your hands instinctively pressed against the back of her head, holding her down for a few moments until she tapped your leg, withdrawing with a loud gasp and a few coughs, her eyes watering yet still as enchanting as ever.

“I want you to fuck me now,” she whispered, letting go of your cock with slight reluctance, climbing back onto the bed gingerly before beckoning to you while on her back, legs spread, wrapping around your waist tightly as you slowly moved over her, positioning your cock in front of her glistening pussy.

The first entrance was smooth, warm, comfortable, just like the rest of the room felt, like how everything and anything that you did with Yoohyeon made you feel.

It was an unidentifiable feeling of belonging; that final Tetris piece to fill up a row, that moment when you hit the cue ball just right into the left corner hole off of an angled rebound from the wall of the table.

Both of you let out a tiny gasp, Yoohyeon’s legs tightening around your waist as her fingers pressed down on your back, consciously trying not to scratch you, not that she would think to do that later.

“Are you okay?”

You were genuinely concerned, watching her expression to make sure she had adjusted, but she shrugged you off, giggling inches away from your face.

“I’m fine,” she replied, smiling up at you. “Just keep going.”

You leaned down to kiss her, softly pressing your lips against hers again as you slowly bucked your hips into her, pushing down all the way to the hilt and relishing in the warm, wet, and tight feeling of her pussy contracting around your cock, squeezing gently.

Everything else ceased to exist, your focus singling out the softness of her mouth on yours, her warm tongue pushing and pulling against yours, her breasts pushing up against your chest with every thrust of your hips, moaning into your mouth all the while.

She was nothing but pliant, inch by inch of her smooth skin opening up for you as your hands skimmed all over her; her head, her cheeks, her chest, abdomen, ass, all of it burning up to the touch like a fever, a delirium-driven vision.

“Fuck, you stretch me so well,” she whined, hands scratching gently at the back of your neck, then not so gently when you sped up, your rhythm slowly escalating to satisfy both of your growing needs, the bed rocking with your movements and bumping against the wall gently.

Her forehead was pressed tightly against yours, sweat from your bodies slickening the surfaces of your skin as she struggled to catch her breath, feeling every exhale of air from her lips blow against your face, quiet moans beginning to slip past her inhibitions and ring around the room, steadily gaining volume and traction in her throat.

“O-Oh my god,” you groaned out, your own breathing beginning to feel shallow, strained, her body wringing out all of your energy, chipping away at your stamina slowly, your cock throbbing inside of her ever-shifting heat. “You’re even tighter than I remembered.”

She hardly even heard your words, too focused on the way you were plunging into her, the way you were burying yourself roughly yet tenderly into her, pushing her limits, leaving her speechless and seeing stars. Her fingernails had forgotten their earlier gentleness, clawing into your back, scratching you in an attempt to relieve herself of the relentless waves of pleasure that beat against her.

“C-Cum with me,” she whispered, almost pleadingly, her eyes cracking open with superhuman effort as you watched her struggle to maintain any sense of composure.

“Are you...are you sure?” you panted, feeling yourself slowly give way to the thought of release, held back only by sheer willpower, your endurance slowly beginning to break down as you began chasing your own end, your own climax.

“Just trust m-me, fuck!” she cried out, audibly needier, and her eyes rolled up into her head suddenly, her limbs shuddering around you violently, her pussy contracting tightly around your cock with a rush of her fluids, trying desperately to push you to the same end as her. Her head tilted back limply, moans tapering off into soft whimpers as you finished a moment after, exploding inside of her with a groan of exertion, collapsing on top of her body before rolling off slowly, careful not to crush her, your collective fluids spilling out onto the sheets.

Hopefully it wouldn’t stain.

“Fuck,” you gasped, the only word that could come to your mind as you tried to regain your bearings. “Fuck.”

Oh my god.

Pain began to return to your body, having temporarily been blocked out by the intensity of the moment, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, Yoohyeon whimpering softly next to you while you curled closer to her, tucking the sheets up to her chin and wrapping your good arm under her, pulling her close.

You laid there with her in silence, unwinding for several moments, minutes, maybe even an hour, lying against her body while listening to her breathing eventually level out, lazily tickling her thighs and occasionally drawing out a surprised little gasp when your fingers grazed her clit.

In some ways, you were almost glad that it was over. After all, you couldn’t help but wonder how she felt about you after you had been gone for so long. And certainly, living in the hellscape you were living in, waiting was never a game anyone wanted to play with a loved one missing in action.

“You know, it’s been 813 days,” she murmured, her hands running through your hair and touching your back, trying to soothe some of the pain from when she had pulled and scratched it roughly. “I’ve waited 813 days and 812 nights just to feel that again.”

“I hope it was worth the wait,” you replied, laughing softly, despite the truth in her words that bit harshly at your conscience. It must have showed on your face, because her hands moved to your cheeks, lifting your head up until your eyes were locked on hers.

“Every second.”

Maybe it was the scent of sex, the feeling of consummation that you felt then, that quelled your self-hatred, your constant disappointment in yourself. Maybe it was the warmth, the soft comfort in Yoohyeon’s words and her hands, gently holding you. Or maybe it was her eyes, shining stars that glimmered down at you brighter than the Sun itself.

But something, whatever it was, in that moment as Yoohyeon looked down at you earnestly, honestly, with genuine care, made you feel as light as a cloud, temporarily unburdened by the guilt of mistakes made, lives lost.

It made you feel as if the days to come, the next days, might be better, brighter than the last, even despite the hellish circumstances you were in.

Maybe.

That was your last thought before your eyes drifted shut, Yoohyeon’s body wrapped around yours warmly like a protective cocoon, head buried in her soft midsection, all of the tension and weight gone from your body, and you were drifting, drifting, drifting away with the waves of your dreams; dreams of a world without bloodshed and death, of pineapples and pizza, of gummy bear breakfast burritos (and none of the dental issues that would accompany them, not that there were dentists in the apocalypse to tell you anymore anyways).

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

You woke up early the next morning, her body still attached to you at the hip, acting like a shield around you against the sunlight that streamed into the room and illuminated your upper bodies, wrapped in the sheets. Slowly, you yawned, carefully beginning to move out of her grasp when she suddenly smacked you on the arm.

“Ow, what was that for?”

Her eyes were still closed, a pouting smile on her face as she pulled you in closer, wrapping her arms around you even more tightly. “For trying to leave me again. Asshole.”

You stopped struggling, letting her hug you close to her warmly, her body heat spreading against your nude form, relaxing your tense muscles against her as she kissed your broad back, from your metal shoulder to the other side, to the base of your neck and up towards the base of your hair when you turned around, cupping her face in your hands and kissing her.

It wasn’t a needy kiss, nor was it particularly soft or tender. It was just a kiss. A simple gesture, a promise of more to come. A promise that you would never leave her side again.

Yoohyeon, however, had other plans, and with a devilish smirk, she began to make the journey under the sheets when the door opened with a bang, the figure of Kim Bora storming in like a hurricane, making both you and Yoohyeon jump back in terror, pulling the sheets up to cover yourselves.

“KIM YOOHYEON!”

So today was one of those days, hmm?

Both of your ears rang painfully at her volume, involuntarily flinching backwards against the headboard as she glared at both of you.

“Did you think we were all deaf last night?”

She blushed, grinning sheepishly while hiding her embarrassed laughter.

“W-What?”

Bora rolled her eyes, flipping her hair over her shoulder in an exaggerated motion of annoyance.

“When I said to save the fucking for later, I didn’t mean for when the rest of us were trying to-”

Her angry rant was cut off by Minji quickly barging in, grabbing Bora by the arm and dragging her out with much effort.

“Hey, let go of me-”

“Don’t be ridiculous; let them have their morning together-”

“You stop being ridiculous! Do you wanna lose sleep for the rest of your life with that banging sound against the wall?”

“Oh, shush, you!”

“But-”

The rest of Bora’s retort was lost to muffled sounds of what must have been some sort of food being shoved into her mouth, and she was arguing through a mouthful the whole way down the hall, silenced only after Minji pulled her back into her room, shutting the door with a bang that echoed down to you and Yoohyeon, both of you shocked at the spectacle.

Even Handong suddenly decided to peek in for a moment, observing the two of you with a little wave and a “good morning” before briskly walking off, presumably to find wherever breakfast was.

“I guess we better get dressed,” you chuckled, glancing over at Yoohyeon who was still red in the face, shell-shocked at all of the sudden commotion. “Yoohyeon?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, we probably should,” she stammered, quickly clambering out of the bed and finding her clothes you had unceremoniously tossed away into some corner of the room, while you did the same, and the rest of the morning passed relatively uneventfully, with the exception of a moderately sulky Bora sitting at the makeshift table in the former kitchen area of the hospital.

Breakfast was relatively bland, yet still tinged with an oddly positive flavor as you watched Yoohyeon bicker and enjoy the company of her best friends, their shrill cries and knowing glances sent your way clearly telling you everything that they were discussing, not that you knew why they had to talk about it apart from you.

You supposed they could always just ask?

“Last night sounded eventful,” Dami remarked, smirking at Yoohyeon.

On second thought...

But other than the slightly awkward atmosphere that was easily broken by the usual open personalities of the others, there was only one other moment of slight discomfort throughout the rest of the day.

The moment when you had to leave again, forced to go out on another scouting mission to find food.

Minji had carefully organized the jobs of everyone in the building, including you, and though Yoohyeon protested the assignment, you insisted that it was fine, much to her chagrin.

“It’s not fair if I don’t follow the rules like everyone else,” you said, as calmly and as gently as you could, holstering a small silenced pistol, a cricket bat you had found on the street, and the dagger Yoohyeon had so painstakingly made for you. “Please understand.”

She looked upset for a moment, but handed you your arm sheathe, a soft cloth to wear over your prosthetic arm.

“Don’t die, idiot.”

Her tone was probably supposed to be threatening, but it only ended up sounding more like a whimpering puppy, upset that their fellow pet was being taken to the vet without them.

You stopped at the door to the stairwell, walking back the few meters to where she was standing, cupping her face in your hands and kissing her, just as you had that morning.

This isn’t the last time.

For just a second, sparks flew in your mind again, and you felt her anxious tears against your cheeks before you pulled back, pressing your forehead against hers, kissing the crown of her head again for good measure.

“I love you,” she whispered to you, hugging you tightly and burying her head into your chest, squeezing tightly, as though she might never see you again.

“I might never see her again,” you thought, reflecting consciously on the idea of your death, yet, you still couldn’t bring yourself to regret anything.

No. I don’t regret any of it.

“You found me, Yoohyeon. You’ll find me again, and again, and again, even if you’ve stopped searching, and even if one of those times isn’t here, or on this earth,” you murmured, tears coming to your own eyes as fear momentarily consumed you, uncertainty and worry clouding your mind.

You didn’t want to die.

But you wanted to live.

And sacrifices had to be made.

She took a moment to compose herself, staring up into your face, her fingers tracing every edge and rough piece of skin that had been weathered by the sun and sand.

“See you later?”

She knew you could never guarantee an answer to such a question, but you chuckled nonetheless, nodding though you felt as though you might explode in melancholy.

“I’ll see you later.”

Reluctantly, she let go of you, letting your hands drop from hers as you backed away, slowly slipping out of the door, entering the outside world with a new sense of resolve, a new need to return. Even just at the entrance, you felt the urge to walk back in, to refuse to go, to stay by her side and never leave that comfort.

But it wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

You had a future to nurture and a promise to keep.

So as you descended the grimy and bloody steps of the stairwell, carefully listening for telltale groans and croaks, you couldn’t help but smile a little, and a little song playing in your head despite the ever-present danger.

Even if I get tired, when your voice reaches me...

You popped open the compartment of your prosthetic arm, humming softly while checking the inside for any potential changes or efficiencies, only to find a picture of Yoohyeon resting there on top of the hand sanitizer, a cheshire grin on her face frozen on the film forever.

...a new day comes to me again.

A door suddenly opened behind you, sounds of spazzy shuffling echoing throughout the hollow stairwell, and you jumped, looking up at the source of the noise, only to see Yoohyeon.

“If you’re going...”

She adjusted the sniper rifle on her back, shifting her small bag of medicine and supplies to the side as she jogged down the steps to you.

“...I’m coming with you.”

Your smile grew just a little wider.

Indeed, it was a new day.

A/N: Hello! I’ve seen way too much Yoohyeon lately (not really possible, but you know what I mean), so I decided to write a fluffier piece for one of my personal favorite idols out there, especially since I listened to Dreamcatcher for the first time within the past 6 months (THEY’RE BOPS, I TELL YOU, BOPS). Anyways, I wanted to tone down on the smut a little because of my fluffy smooth-brained writing tendencies, so this is basically what happened. Also, I hope all you B99 maniacs liked the little reference I made (Nine-nine!), and as always, asks are welcome and appreciated. Thank you for reading!

Also, a shoutout to @nsfwflint for inadvertently inspiring me to write this :)

#yoohyeonsmut #dreamcatcherfanfiction #kpopfanfiction #fluffysmut #softsmut

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