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colderdrafts · 1 year

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1: Pilot

They say the matter of the collision between worlds, known as 'The Great Assembly', was the start of a new beginning.

New beginnings are a language familiar to you, though you've found yourself somewhat at a stale period of your life. So when you're offered an opportunity to break out of the routine for a bit you happily accept. After all, new beginnings are also new opportunities.

For you this means some new friends, an unreasonably hostile naga that seemingly despises you and the uncertainties of loss.

Gender neutral reader x monster (male naga). sfw. Next

The beginning of a new world order twenty years past, known as 'The great assembly', has caused not only a lot of issues, but also a lot of opportunities. The human condition and what it means to be a sentient person had changed forever, since two worlds collided and were combined into one. There had never prior to the great assembly been consequent proof of parallel universes, however when yours and the monster one collided on a twist of universal fate, all prior scientific hypothesis on the matter were even proven right, wrong, or rewritten.

For the assembly had happened, and the two worlds that collided proved to be similar enough that it allowed for minimal changes in physical place and geography - however the spaces used by people inhabiting those places were changed for good. Creatures of all shapes and sizes, of myth, of old folk tales, of regular fantasy suddenly became a reality. The media was at an outrage, telling of homes being suddenly 'invaded by monsters'.

That counted for both sides.

Humans have always had numerous perspectives, stories, legends, myths going on monsterfolk in all shapes and sizes - and the world, or well, your world, soon learned that the same was true for monsterfolk on humans. It seemed no matter the content, category, popularity of a human-written story, there was a monster-written counterpart, down to every last bit of literature. The great assembly was cause for an enormous influx in art of all kinds, and a gigantic population boom. The calamity that followed of rearranging the entire infrastructure of society was no less than an impossible challenge, and multiple fights, protests and political scandals ensued, while every single sentient being adjusted to their new reality.

The world, as a result, got a whole lot bigger.

In present time, things are more or less back to a regular state. There's still crime, fights and war, there's still love, education and work. Inter-species relationships can be as strained as they can be friendly, and there's still a shared general consensus of what constitutes a 'good' vs a 'bad' person. Some prefer to live in the urban, some prefer to live in the rural. Some work desk jobs, some are retailers, some are in school, and some are on the streets. The assembly didn’t care what race you are or where you live - everyone gets the same standing point in existence.

But most of all, the people of the world, monster or human, strive for a regular, fulfilling life.

So here you are, a desk jockey in a financial company with a non-fulfilling life, but not knowing how earn a wage to survive if you quit, and not knowing how to apply for something different. You job is secure, and you're not worried financially. Your office mates consists of a large mix of both humans and monsterfolk, and for all intends and purposes, it's a normal work environment. Sure, your minotaur manager sometimes bumps his horn on the door frames, the gnoll assistant always leaves papers they hand you with small accidental scratchmarks from their claws, and the interior design is shifting to accommodate people much larger and smaller than the regular human. But the working day, hours and hierarchy structure remains the same.

You're at your desk typing away when Irwin, a human coworker and, forced upon you, your closest friend, peeks up over your computer screen.

"Psst," he whispers in mock subtlety. "Pssst, hey. I got you an offering."

Irwin is a lean guy of average height, sporting an undercut and a nose ring. He's only a year older than you, though he often uses this fact to utilize a 'small vulnerable young coworker'-approach when addressing you. All in good fun, of course.

His desk is the one in a cubicle right in front of yours, and this isn’t the first time he’s used your close proximity to his advantage.

You cog an eyebrow at him. "That usually means you have some paperwork you want me to look at."

He dramatically puts a hand over his chest and gasps. "Why I'd never - can a guy not offer his precious office buddy a gift?" he feigns hurt, looking dejectedly at the floor.

"You can't. There's always a catch with you," you roll your eyes at him, but don't hide the smile on your face.

Irwin's always been one to get behind on work, but he's genuinely a nice person, albeit goofy and unstructured. How he's thriving in a desk job is beyond you.

"I want - to give you this!" he proudly presents a USB key. "The whole season of the mon version of that weird show you like so much. IF," he makes a show of holding the key just out of your reach, despite you not even reaching for it, "you look over the numbers on this sheet to make sure I got it right."

You groan. "Again? Really Irwin, have some faith in your abilities, I know you can do math!"

"Last time you saved me from returning 5000 bucks to the wrong customer! I'm paranoid, okay?" he leans over your desk. "And you're so good at it! You catch everything!"

You notice the calamity has earned a few stray looks from your office mates, who all seem to glance your way in amusement. This isn't the first time Irwin has been at your feet like this, effectively branding himself as the office clown. You wouldn't mind, if it didn't mean he consistently insisted on pulling you into his shenanigans. Out the corner of your eye you spot your manager Barney coming down the hallway. You'll need to get rid of Irwin fast to avoid an earful.

"Irwin -" you warn.

He catches the direction of your look and smiles dastardly.

"Pretty please? It's HD~" he tries to sell it, nonchalantly waving the key in front of you, staring with puppy eyes.

You sigh. It's not that you're actually particularly interested in the show he's downloaded for you. You've only told him a few weeks ago you were watching the hum version, and in passing mentioned you wondered what the mon version would look like. You do however find it quite endearing he noticed and remembered.

Even if it's for his own nefarious gain of getting out of paperwork.

"Hand me the USB," you relent finally.

Irwin beams at you. "You're the absolute best-test in the world!"

"I know. And you're a terrible co-worker."

"Oh, the WORST, absolutely horrendous, rude and disrespectful. I don't know why you put up with me, but I am eternally grateful."

"You're taking advantage of them being too nice, Irwin," comes a rumbling voice.

You look back to see Barney, in all his imposing glory, standing at the cubicle next to yours, and you try not to jump in surprise.

How did he get here so fast and silently on those hooves?

Barney stands about two meters, with horns and face of a jersey bull, and crosses his arms over his massive chest. You thank the stars he's currently not scowling at you, but Irwin shrinks a bit back into his own cubicle.

"Taking advantage – Sir, I would never! It's an equal trade, and effective usage of resources. I do my part, they look it over, and the company thrives on our shared effort!" Irwin argues.

Barney huffs. "And does you precious coworker here ever ask you to look things over?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Because they actually do their job properly and on time. If you'd planned this better you would have more time to look it over, and you wouldn't have to waste their time with YOUR workload. Do better next time."

Barney’s reprimanding is as always deadly and precise.

Irwin's shoulders slump as he looks to the floor. "Yes, Sir."

"Honestly, it's not an issue, it doesn't take long to-" you start, but Barney cuts you off.

"That's not the point. Irwin still needs to learn how to plan his things. Don't let him off that easy," he stands up straight. "But that's not the thing I wanted to discuss with you two, actually. If you'd come with me for a moment."

Barney turns on his hooves and walks away without waiting for acknowledgment.

You share a look with Irwin, who shrugs, whispers 'uh-oh!', and cheerily steps after your manager. You follow suit.

Barney’s office is fairly simple, consisting only of a desk, his working computer, and a pair of chairs stacked in the corner. He motions for you and Irwin to pick one out and sit.

He sits opposite to you behind his desk.

"In light of current events, the head of our department has called for what they adequately call a “consensus strive”,” Barney does quotation marks in the air as he says it with a sour expression. “Something about developing the company team to function better as a group. Apparently, there's been something stuck in the gears between each department in the company. Blame thrown around, deliveries on projects not met, deadlines not kept, the general bad blood.

"So the heads have gotten together, and they propose a solution: Each department sends some representatives to speak of the going-ons at a shared company wide conference-trip," Barney eyes both of you. "And I want you two to go as representatives for us."

Silence hangs in the air for a bit, before Irwin lights up. "For real? That sounds – well, awesome! Fun, even."

Irwin looks to you for your reaction, but you can tell by the excited grip on the arm of his chair that he's already dead-set on going.

"What exactly does a conference-trip mean?" you ask.

"It means you will be going on a trip with other representatives of different departments of the company for 5 days," Barney explains. "There will be team-working activities, cross-department meetings, friendly competition and the works. It takes place in the mountain range just outside of town.”

Irwin deflates just a little bit. "5 days? Isn't that – I mean, a lot of work can be done in 5 days," he notes, gesturing toward the rest of the department. “You sure it’s fine without us for that long?”

Barney eyes him. "Appreciate the concern Irwin, but it would be a good look for the department," he smirks. "Don't worry about your workload – it'll be here when you return."

"I bet," Irwin sighs, and Barney chuckles.

You offer Irwin a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before turning to Barney. "Well thank you for the opportunity Sir, but I have to ask – why us?"

"Irwin’s current level of focus suggests he would better thrive elsewhere for a bit, and you seem the only one capable of keeping him somewhat in line," Barney replies with a nonchalant shrug. “’sides, it’ll be good for you to get out and get some fresh air.”

Considering you and Irwin are nowhere near the top of the food chain here, you get the feeling he deliberately avoids the word 'expendable'.

“So, you in?” Barney asks.

Irwin looks at you with a pleading expression. Well, you’re not one to turn down an offer like that.

“You got it, boss.”

#colderwriting #monster romance #gender neutral reader #x reader #monster lover #naga #the beginning of probably one of the longest things I've ever written #also a huuuge wip #I may go back an edit things as this progresses to fit with the story as new things come up #but the whole thing right now is about 50k words?? how the #the great assembly #monster x reader

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eshtaresht · 1 year

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so, when I said I was writing my silly one bed trope vashwood, I meant it. it's finished, but I won't be able to post it for a while 'cause, umm... I don't have an ao3 account yet. I haven't read fanfiction in 5 years and it's my first time writing one, ok, trigun just did something to me

it's tender, it's silly, it's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster in the first half. vash is aroace, wolfwood is okay with that, and they're both incredibly touch starved. I hope people will like it, here's a little wip

#It's probably the longest thing I've written in english (not my first language)#I mean 3.8k words isn't that much but it took me some time #also they're both trans (wolfwood explicitly and vash is implied to be)#trigun #trigun fanfiction #vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood

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ahollowgrave · 1 year

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// In which Odette & None go fishing...

You are a world away when you feel the line tug. Your hands respond more out of surprise than any real skill, a sharp tug upward. Out of the corner of your eye, you see None’s big ears twitch and they rise. Embarrassment burns in your cheeks. You want to impress None but fishing has never been one of your talents.

They are next to you soon enough, guiding you through the steps. Pull, reel, pull -- let him go a little, sweets but not too much. Is he heavy? Their voice is a rasp, a fall of gravel. It is low and quiet as though they fear the fish might hear and give up the pursuit. Their fingers close around the pole, carefully avoiding touching you. Gratitude filled you twice over.

With None’s aid, the fish is out of the water before long. They nimbly remove the hook from the fish’s lip - you wince in sympathy, feel a burning in your throat - and then None gestures to you. You lift your arm so they can measure the fish against it, expression thoughtful.

You think None is beautiful.

(You would never tell them this, they would say thank you but they would hate it.)

Their hair is a dark, deep green that reminds you of moss and their eyes are large and brown like the worn leather of your pack. Their fingers are calloused and their face lined with age and grief. It never tells you much but you know None well enough to read the minute changes.

(You once told them they must have been born old and sad. You had meant it in a mean way. You had been twelve. None had laughed and the sound had filled you with such joy that you saved it, folded it up many times, and stored it in a corner of your heart.)

None pulled the fish back with a shake of their head, the end of their big, droopy ears swaying with the motion.

“Too small.”

They kissed each of the fish’s cheeks, the air just above its scales, and then wordlessly held it out to you.

You obediently leaned forward to mimic the gesture; a kiss for thanks and a kiss for luck. The fish stared blankly back at you, mouth gaping. None turned and squatted to gently release it into the water once more.

“S’good catch,” they murmured as they washed their hands.

“It was too small,” you detest how your voice whines when you say it and you sink a little more into your embarrassment.

“Lotta things are,” None replied with a shrug. Their voice was dry as ever. Nothing ever phased None and it made you envious, crybaby that you are. “We just try again.” They turned back to you and patted their stomach and, unexpectedly, gifted you with one of their grins; fierce and out of place on their exhausted features.

(You do your best to memorize the expression. Forever stealing traits from those you adore; it is the only love language you know.)

None is saying, “I’ve got a big hunger so, get back to it.” They hand you the fishing line. They have already baited your hook for you and though it wasn’t your hands that pierced the worm with the hook you still feel… queasy. You watch it wiggle for a while, trying to puzzle through the emotions that sit heavy in your stomach.

None hasn’t let go of the fishing pole. They are watching you. You don’t mind, you never have. None watches you how they watch everyone; how you imagine a tree might watch a squirrel upon its branch. They are only observing, perhaps some mild concern for safety.

Their eyebrows lift in a silent question.

You want so badly to be something else, at this moment. But you are what you are and your heart beats from the edge of your sleeve.

“Does it hurt…?” your voice is so small.

None’s right ear twitched and they looked down at the worm on the hook.

“Probably.”

“Oh.” Not the answer you wanted and your heart constricted painfully.

None makes a noise. Some might think it annoyance, maybe anger. You know it is helplessness. The silence stretches long.

“If I take it off the hook it will likely die anyway, sweets.” Their voice has changed. You hate and love that you have this power; to change the enduring monotone of None’s voice. It is softer now. Like someone has laid velvet over the gravel in a strange attempt at comfort. “Next town I’ll buy different bait.”

It is a victory of a sort but you do not feel pleased. You can only watch the worm on the hook.

Eventually, None casts the line and places the pole in your hands.

“Fish gotta eat, sweets. So do I.” It is gently said and you think None would kiss your brow if you were different.

For the first time, you are thankful you do not.

#Odette & None #None is also my character and I love them..... dearly #i took a lalafell and I said 'what if they were just the saddest creature.'#anyway!!!!!#they and Odette are v close in a aunt/niece kind of way #None spent time at Odette's #convent for grief counseling #and they have been buds since!!!!#anyway this got away from me #probably the longest thing I've written in a while #I've proof read it once and pretty sloppily because listen #it doesn't have to be good just done #none #pigeon writing

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inevitablestars · 1 year

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i just want this fic to be done and written

#i need it out of my head so bad someone take it from me #i don't even know if anyone wants to read it but it's going to end up probably the longest thing i've written and yknow i think that's okay #also i feel like i have to finish this before going back to my other fics bc it takes up too much brain space #i miss my other fics #i hope they're doing well #someone should check in on them #my momentarily abandoned docs </3 #mommy will come home soon kids i promise #the de fic just needs me rn

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bittersweetresilience · 17 days

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i've been thinking about beyond ascension again, since i've been rereading. like most of the other things i posted more than a year ago, thinking about it is incredibly embarrassing. but objectively i know i'm happy with it. posting things just has a way of making them seem cringe. anyway i still find it funny that i watched this terrible show, became irremediably gripped by these terrible villains, wrote this entire thing, and completely totally forgot temutai existed. sorry. that guy can just stay unredeemed.

#tong fo being a bartender is also #a set in stone headcanon of mine #the kind with no canon reference but that you simply know by divine vision to be true #and it was really important to me that at the end of the story he leave the valley of peace and not return #because that is not po's responsibility #and po deserves a space to heal and not have to be reminded anymore of these things #i have a lot of thoughts about this fic it's one of the longest things i've ever written in one go #which isn't much compared to other authors but for me it was a big thing #and i think it's cute how similar some of it ended up being to the fourth movie #which is probably a reason why i liked it so much i was like #yes yes yes yes this is it for me #OH making this post just reminded me of ANOTHER extremely dark fic i wrote about a cartoon panda #this one unpublished but one of my favorite things i'd ever written #braces episode from we bare bears you will forever be famous and hysterically inspiring to me #the thought of other people seeing this makes me cringe horribly but i'm trying to build immunity #fun fact for the fun fact lovers my whole ao3 account was me trying to build immunity #that's why the first few fics were once a year evenly i was doing my best to rid myself of shame and it NEVER worked i was literally #equally as embarrassed and terrified for months afterward every single time #but we stay silly and continue gently pushing our boundaries for self growth opportunities #now i think i just write certain things with posting in mind which makes it easier than feeling like i'm exposing things #that weren't supposed to be seen #that's all thank you for listening to random thoughts from sunny at four in the morning #🌃#i would give this the fandom tag but i don't want random people to witness me

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chuluoyi · 7 months

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fear

- gojo satoru x reader

his best friend’s defection is still a hard topic for him to swallow, and it leads into an unexpected argument that spurs you to leave, only to unlock a new fear in him when you get into an unfortunate accident afterwards.

genre/warnings: angst, gojo being mean, one scene with a worried nanami *wink*, injured reader, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end

notes: *sigh* my coping mechanism is still gojo’s past arc, which is why this piece takes place on that timeline. just a little context: reader is in the same class with nanami & haibara and was in the same mission that took haibara's life. this is probably the longest oneshot i've written so far sooo… enjoy! :)

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

A year and a half had passed since Suguru embarked on his path as a curse user. In that one year and a half, Satoru had finished his last year at Jujutsu High, and now was in the halls of his alma mater, speaking to the newly appointed headmaster who was none other than his teacher.

"You're applying to become a teacher?" Yaga asked again with a frown. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Granted, he was his most troublesome pupil. "Why, Satoru?"

"If I said it's because I want to train young sorcerers to be strong, would you believe me?"

That was not a lie. It was actually 50% of his main reasons anyway. The other 50% was to repent what he missed with Suguru when he chose his dark path—his contempt with the current system of this jujutsu world.

"I would," Yaga responded gruffly. To him, Satoru was irritating, but he also knew that he was also extremely capable, and thus everything he did wasn't just out of nowhere. "But you still have to submit your applications. We can't make an exception even if you come from a prestigious clan."

"That's fine with me," he grinned. "Thanks, sensei."

On summer days, he'd get reminded of Suguru and silly things they had done together. Eating shaved ice, cycling together, driving either you, Shoko or Nanami mad. Satoru missed those days, it hadn't been the same ever since. Not knowing if his best friend was alright—if he was still alive at all—was exhausting.

Sometimes, he felt like he was the only one who was affected by his departure, the only one who stayed right where Suguru left him. Shoko didn't seem ruffled, if anything she just went to more bars and pachinko parlors as of late. Nanami was always a recluse, he never disclosed his feelings. You mourned him, but it was clear that most part of you would always be more focused on Haibara's death.

Satoru understood that he couldn't force anyone to feel what he felt, and he had no right to. But sometimes, he just wanted someone to connect with at his level. Someone to get him just like Suguru did.

And so when he got back to his condo that night—just right next to the one he rented for Megumi and Tsumiki, since he had moved out of his dorm—to find his girlfriend there with a big smile and a tray of cupcakes, unaware of everything and anything, he merely scoffed to himself.

"Satoru, you're back," you acknowledged, beaming like the sunshine you were. "I just baked these for the kids. Do you want some?"

Usually he'd smother you, throw some pickup lines here and there and say yes, but today, he just felt drained. "No." And with that, he stalked away to the bathroom, not glancing back at you.

It was wrong. But tonight he just wanted some peace and quiet, and so keeping his silence seemed to be the best choice as he didn't want to start a pointless argument with you. But you weren’t anything but observant, and definitely noticed that something was amiss with him.

"Are you... alright?" You approached him warily after he came out of the bathroom with wet hair. "Where were you today?"

"Just somewhere," he replied curtly. Afterwards he turned on the hairdryer, drowning the whole place with the noise even as you stood behind him with a visible question mark.

But you were still there after he dried his hair. "Is something bothering you?" you asked with a tilt of your head, concerned. By all means, you mean well. You just wanted to know if he could use your help at all.

When you pulled that expression, he couldn't help feeling annoyed, like he wanted you to take a hint, but you just didn't. "If you know, then just shut it."

It was probably the first time since the two of you got together that Satoru actually said something harsh. But you still tried to be reasonable though, bless you.

"Satoru, I don't know what got into your nerves like this, but I think sleeping through it might help. Have a rest."

"Why are you talking as if you know it?" he snapped, finally turning to you with his cold gaze. "You might not know anything, so don't be a know-it-all. Just mind your own business."

Now you were frustrated with his reply. "Once again, I don't know what happened to you. But if you're taking it out on me because I'm the closest you have—"

"Who said that?" Satoru didn't know where he got all this venom from. It was just at the forefront of his mind and he just got the urge to spew it. "You're considering yourself closest to me? Where did you get that big head from?"

You were aghast, and you blinked a few times to get your bearings. "Let me guess, it's about Geto-san, isn't it? Or the higher ups. Either of that must be what causing you to blindly place your anger on me."

"So what if it was? It isn't like you'll understand anyway."

"Satoru," you started, trying to even your breathing. "What happened to Geto-san isn't your fault. I've been telling you this. It can't be helped—"

"Can't be helped?" he jeered. "Do you know why it has come to this?" his tone took a dangerous edge as he stepped closer. He reached for you, grasping your wrist.

"Maybe because I was too blind back then. If it weren't for you—if only I didn't spend that much time on you, maybe he would still be here."

Did he just say that? Did he just imply that he had regretted the two of you getting together?

You felt your lower lip start to tremble and something seemed to obscure and blur your vision, making it hard to see him clearly. "You... don't mean that."

"Really?" the corner of his lips curled into a disparaging smile. "You never know. Before you know it, this can be over already. After all, I could have anyone out there that I want. Maybe someone less nosey than—”

That did it. You wrenched your arm out of his grip violently, as your first tear fell. His smirk vanished too, replaced with a total stillness to cover his sudden panic that was followed by a sudden sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"You selfish, self-obsessed jerk," you hissed through watery eyes. He was taken aback, even amidst your anger and possible fear of him, your still managed to throw daggers at him. "Fine. You have it. I'll see myself out."

Satoru never wanted you to leave. Honestly, he would've made you stay. But he wasn't in the right state of mind and it was too late to take back what he said. He didn't want to mess this up even further.

You left the cupcakes, even throwing it away just to spite him. Driven by pain and humiliation, you choked back your sob and didn't spare a glance at him as you shut the door.

Peace and quiet. There he had it, he thought as he clenched his fists, at the cost of everything else.

Leaving that condo, every step you took felt like needles piercing your shattered heart. You wiped your tears roughly. No, you refused to cry over such asshole. He made it clear, didn't he? Whatever it was that you two shared, it was at the cost of his best friend leaving him. So now the blame was on you.

If you were thinking clearly, you would've understood that his words were likely a result of his own pent-up pain and frustration that he had kept to himself for some while. But you had no patience for that or even pinpoint what you felt right now—anger, disappointment or dread, or perhaps all three. You just felt wrongly accused.

Your feet brought you back to your dorm in the school. Now it wasn't as bustling as it once were. After Satoru and Shoko's graduation, you didn't really get close to anyone. There was Ichiji, but he treated you more like a mentor rather than a classmate.

As you sank into the comforts of your bed, You replayed the events, trying to find where it went wrong—and found nothing. After all, you had already said all that could be said. It wasn't just him who lost Geto, but you, Shoko and Nanami did too, but it was more convenient for Satoru to blame everyone else rather than trying to understand that they too shared this pain.

Nevertheless, you were disappointed. You didn't expect half of what he spouted, and it got you doubting everything you had.

"You've royally fucked up."

Satoru exhaled, glaring at Shoko through the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, maybe."

The reverse cursed technique user threw him a blank stare, taking in everything from his disheveled hair to his wrinkled trousers. "Gojo, as much as I can’t care less about your sorry ass, I'm saying this not out of concern for you, but rather for Y/N. You are an asshole."

The puff of smoke she blew expanded to create a cloud-like shape. "Yaga-sensei was our teacher. His student is now a mass murderer and wanted dead. Can you even imagine how he feels? And I can't believe I'm saying this—but weren't there three of us?"

A week had gone by and instead of doing the right thing like trying to get into your good graces, Satoru was in Shoko's infirmary in the headquarters instead. He didn't exactly know what he was looking for by going here. Maybe some lingering taste of his happier student days, and Shoko was the only one remaining.

Three of us, huh... she was right. That was precisely why he came here after all.

"You're just sulking because it seems no one cares about your best friend being the best there is. But have you thought about how our juniors also lost Haibara? Right in front of their eyes? Haibara was our friend too."

He was wrong, of course he was. Satoru realized that now. But it felt wrong to ask for your forgiveness now, not to mention the disrupting thought he had—should he let you go for good altogether?

The phone suddenly rang with such fervor that made Shoko utter a swear word. She was on call duty for the rescue team today, and it was supposedly a peaceful day until Satoru decided to barge in to become her company. "Hello? Ichiji? What—speak clearly, I can't hear you."

She switched it to loudspeaker. "...iri-san! Ieiri-san—h-help—please—"

It was noisy, and blaring at the same time, and Ichiji was... Sobbing? Choking? His voice was terribly muffled and—

"L/N-san!" he cried, and Satoru remembered at that moment that you should be in a mission with Ichiji, he remembered you telling him before.

"Hic—s-she fell... hic—she fell! B-blood! She i-is bleeding so much! I-Ieiri-san—hic—s-send help! Please!"

"Hey, stay awake. Breathe. Just breathe."

Everything hurt. Most notably, your head. You could hardly think straight when all you felt was blinding pain and how your breaths came in short wheezes.

Your vision was blurry. The numbness had started to set in and chills ran up and down your spine. You couldn't make out who in front of you was. Was it Ichiji, who went with you in this mission? The only thing that glared was blue.

"You can't sleep, you hear me?" the voice was commanding, willing you to do his bidding. It was familiar, but usually his tone of voice was much lighter, happier.

Satoru.

But why was he here? He wasn't in this mission. It was supposed to be a mission for you and Ichiji.

You remembered getting the cursed spirit after manifesting your domain expansion, until in its last ditch attempt, it went after Ichiji. You had no choice—even when your cursed energy had burned out, you still shoved him away at the cost of being flung from the top of a building.

Not again. Not after Haibara. You’d gladly pay the price if it meant you didn't have to see anyone die in front of you again.

"I..." You managed to croak out—breathing hurt, and you felt your hands being grasped tightly.

"Hey, just breathe. Y/N. Look at me.” Through your blurry haze, you focused on that cold blue, and you saw him. Satoru's sharp eyes, pursed lips and frown. He's really here.

Satoru always said that if there was a cursed spirit apocalypse, then Ichiji would be the first to die. You used to scold him for that, but now as you a laid here possibly dying in your own pool of blood, you found it to be true.

Yet at the same time you knew that with him here, Ichiji must be safe already, and it gave you reassurance so great even when you were on the verge of dying. "I... can't..."

"Yes, you can. Just look at me," he firmly rebuked, his voice came out in a hiss. For all the time you had been with him, you had never heard him so forceful. "If you close your eyes now, I won't forgive you. So please, just hang in there."

It was a struggle to take in any air and darkness encroached on your vision as your consciousness began slipping away.

And everything faded to nothingness.

Satoru honestly thought he had no fears. His worst fear had fully realized after all—Suguru going away into the darkness. What more could he possibly fear?

But when he heard Ichiji's distress call for rescue team, about how you fell from a rooftop of a building and unconscious, he realized that it was a fear he didn't know existed. His mind got disoriented and he teleported to the scene on impulse. He just had to see it for himself. With their petty argument still lacking closure, he felt even worse.

And the sight before him gave him so much fright he never thought was possible.

It was a mistake, he should have brought Shoko along.

You had laid there like a broken doll, your eyes dimmed, and not been able to breathe. He desperately tried to keep you awake, his presence beside you, yet it didn't seem to matter. He watched helplessly as you passed out in his arms.

Satoru felt nothing. The panic that had set in was suddenly gone as your limp body slumped against him, replaced by incessant ringing in his ears and tremor wracking his nervous system. It wasn't long until the rescue team came to retrieve you and even then he still felt numb. He rejected the idea that you might possibly die on him.

That went on until Shoko, who assisted in the emergency treatment, came out of the surgery, sweat on her forehead.

"It's even worse than the aftermath of the guardian deity mission last year," Shoko explained with a grim expression. "Her brain has sustained damage and it affects everything. It may take her quite a while before she can go back to the field."

When she said that, Satoru felt terror washed over him again. You almost died—was all he perceived.

The two of you had no contact for a week just because of his ego. He could still recall that day with vivid clarity, feeling a burning ache in his chest. If someone were to ask him what heartbreak was like, now he certainly would he able the to tell them the two instances in which he experienced them. What he felt now mirrored the same stinging sensation he had felt when Suguru left him.

He visited you when he was allowed to, and you were still unconscious, with many machines connected to your body. It was a sight he still couldn’t bring himself to get used to. He had seen you injured before, but never seen you in your own pool of blood, so this made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Stupid," he whispered, gently rubbing your forehead. His eyes remained fixated on you as you rested, his insides still churning with emotions. "You're not weak, and you're not hopeless." Once upon a time, Satoru might have thought of you as weak, but now he knew better.

"So why you always pick the worst decision?" The more he thought this could've been avoided, the more irked he was. The thought that he could have done something to prevent it intensified the sting of guilt, and he continued to punish himself with it.

And the more he dwelled on the idea that he had hurt you prior to this, the tighter his breath became.

But that was who you were. Self-sacrificing to a fault. And he loved you for that. There was no way of him letting you go now.

It astonished even himself—that he was capable of this love thing. At first it was an attraction, but now that you had been going on for more than a year, it felt like it was no longer a silly infatuation after all.

"Hurry and wake up, will you?" Satoru gently brushed your hair aside, his eyes fixed on you. He didn't know it even as his gut twisted, his frown deepened and his touch quivered, that he was worried sick. "I have a lot to make up for."

And he left you with a tender brush of his lips against your forehead.

Nanami Kento was the first person you saw when you awoke from coma.

You struggled to regain your senses, still feeling absolutely broken. The dull throb on the back of your head was still there, and as if you had found yourself trapped in a fog, you were only able to move sluggishly.

"You're awake?" his gruff voice greeted, laced with concern. In his hand were a bucket of fresh flowers and fruits basket, which he soon placed at the table next to your bed.

It was unexpected, because ever since the tragedy that costed Haibara's life, the two of you had been drifting apart.

You nodded, and let out a hum in response—all you could manage at the moment.

"Thank God." Nanami sounded relieved as he pinched the bridge between his eyes, and you were moved that he had shown this degree of concern.

Your remaining classmate, who suffered the burden of Haibara's life just like you. He was always quiet or brooding somewhere, hiding his own feelings.

You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes. The fact that he visited you meant that he hadn't decided to cut you out of his life yet.

"Gojo-san is out today, but he'll be back by afternoon," he said, mistranslating your tears as some sort of a want to have your annoying—ex?—boyfriend at your side.

The two of you were still not on talking terms, weren’t you?

You so badly wanted to say thank you to him—and tell him that no, you weren't looking for Satoru—but it came out hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"Huh?" Nanami then realized what you were trying to say, and a faint smile graced his lips. "Just... get well soon, L/N. Have a good rest."

Just before you drifted back to sleep, you could hear him sigh and mutter, "Hello, Gojo-san? L/N has awakened. Just letting you know is all.”

You weren't sure how much time had passed when you woke up the second time, but the curtains were already drawn and only darkness came from the window. Your body felt lighter, but you still felt like a mess and and couldn't help but groan in discomfort.

Satoru was there, he perked up at the noise you made. And you realized that it was the first time in about a week that he faced you after that disasterous almost-breakup.

He walked up to you, his expression was more hopeful than you had ever seen him before, like a kid whose wish had been granted. He slowly shifted to sit beside you.

"Hey, welcome back." His voice was soft. It was a change of pace for him, as you were used to seeing him all loud and silly.

Now your voice no longer sounds like a lead. "Hey."

"How are you feeling?" he asked and you took a moment to look at him. He was smiling, but exhaustion reached his bright eyes, dimming them. "You know, with the whole you passing out and almost dying thing?"

His words were almost humorous as he spoke, like he didn't know what else to say except try to lighten the mood, but there was also a strain on his tone, like he was holding back.

"I'm quite fine now, I suppose..." You still felt the lingering pain and dizziness as you slowly sat up. Satoru reached out to steady you—and you realized how his fingers trembled when they made contact with your body—as his brows furrowed with worry when you winced.

"You don't look like it though." His voice dropped and the humor was gone, replaced by this haunted look. You blinked. It was probably the first time you had seem him this ruffled.

He immediately pulled you into a hug, cradling your head to his neck gently, as if to protect and shield you from the world altogether. Exhaling heavily, he leaned on you. "You scared me, you know that?"

You wondered out loud if you really had that hold over him. "Did I?"

"You can't do that to me, you hear?" Satoru stroked your hair, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. His voice quivered. “Don't ever do that again.”

He pulled you tighter against him, but still careful not to crush you.

You let out a snicker, letting go of everything you felt during this horrible week. "Heh, afraid to lose me, huh?"

"Shut up,” he grumbled. “What were you thinking anyway? How did you calculate that freefalling is better than letting that cursed spirit attack Ichiji?”

"He was defenseless. He could die, you know that."

"And you also can," he quipped, upset, pulling away enough to look you squarely in the eyes, his eyes devoid of any expression, yet filled with a raging wave that you could only interpret as undiluted concern.

The emphasis in his tone made you recoil and feel guilty. If you were in his shoes, you probably would've said the same thing and so you had nothing to say to that.

But the more pressing agenda in the list was the unspoken silent treatment the two of you saw fit to use against each other for the last few days. Satoru was the one who decided to address it first.

"About that night..." he faltered, looking away. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."

Satoru always had trouble processing emotions. This time too. He must've a hard time dealing with the anxiety caused by the possibility of him losing you for good, no matter how much he tried to be unaware of it.

"..." You wanted to respond, to make him understand your point, but somehow right now you were just too weary. And he sensed your reluctance. So you blurted the first thing that gnawed at your mind.

“You said you could have any other women out there—”

"No, really—" he started to panic, and it was blatantly too, which surprised you. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Us. I don't regret anything. I’m not breaking up with you. Being with you is the happiest I've been ever since Suguru left."

“That's...” you blinked, before letting out a small sigh. “Okay. Fine then. Let's just put it behind us for now.”

“I—” he almost wheezed, his bright blue eyes were overtaken with sheer urgency to explain how wrong everything had been that night. “You must know that I didn’t mean any of it. And that I hate hurting you the way I did. I won’t—”

"Satoru, I understand," you let out another sigh, fidgeting with your fingers. "Sometimes when I’m reminded of Haibara, I also get sad. I don't want to presume but I think I know how you feel. Just next time, maybe," you shifted your gaze on him, seeing how you had his attention fully. Gojo Satoru, the strongest now, was looking at you as if you had his fate in your hands. "Just tell me if you need space and I would have understood."

"Yeah, okay, sure," he responded immediately, relieved, before a lopsided grin appeared on his face, turning him back into your dork slash boyfriend. "So, am I forgiven now?"

"A thank you would be nice."

In the end, he chuckled, seemingly resigned. "You should sleep more."

He positioned himself into bed next to you, and you let him pull you into his chest again. You could feel how his taut back started to relax upon the contact. He pressed his lips on your forehead in a fleeting kiss.

"Promise me you won't pull that stunt again.”

You smirked. "I can't. What if Ichiji—"

"Then just let him die."

You swatted his arm playfully, pressing your head to his chest as he continued to run his fingers on your hair. He cushioned you carefully, and you felt the tension in him slowly melt away with each breath you took. In your mind, you figured he needed this closeness more than you did, if anything, for the sake of his sanity.

“I love you,” he whispered by your ear, kissing it lightly.

“Mmhm.”

As you felt Satoru's calming presence, it helped ease you into slumber. You soon found yourself in a deep sleep, comfortably held in his embrace.

Epilogue

Ichiji gulped as Satoru stared him down, sizing him up as if he was the most despicable creature on this planet.

Okay, he might be. He was a coward, all he could do was trembling in the face of evil. But he had come in peace, even bringing fruits as an offering! He felt bad too that he was the partial cause for you to be this injured.

He was used to Satoru terrorizing him—calling him names, slapping him, and whatnot—and he could take it. Just this time, he really looked like he could murder him on the spot if he wanted to. A small part of Ichiji mourned that you were his girlfriend, because that pretty much sealed his fate that Gojo Satoru could indeed murder him on the spot because he had a valid enough reason to.

"You are—"

"No! I'm sorry, Gojo-san! I'm sorry for my incompetence!"

"Hah?"

If he was mildly irked before, now Satoru was visibly irritated.

"You're not cut out to be a jujutsu sorcerer," he started. "You're useless. You just get in the way most of the time."

Ichiji kept his head down. No, no. He can't cry!

"Get your driving license or I'll slap the shit out of you."

"Oh?" and before he knew it, Satoru had stalked away, leaving him in the dust. How rude! But...

Get a driver license? Quit the jujutsu work?

Hey, that sounds like something I can do!

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violetszone · 10 months

Text

First Father's Day

Charles x fem!reader

From this request

Summary: First Father's Day with Charles and your eight-month-old daughter Ava.

WARNINGS: too much angst

A/n: not edited writing, This must be the longest story I've ever written.

It had been almost 8 months since Ava was born and that meant it was Charles' first father's day, you were so excited about it.Because you wanted to give the best father's day to the best father you've ever seen.

Charles had made Ava the center of his whole life since she was born, and Ava was exactly her father's daughter.Even if her father went out for an hour, she was destroying herself from crying.and of course her first word was "papa" actually she said "papappappa," but Charles took it right away.

The bond between the two of them fascinated you more and more every day.That's why you wanted their first father's day together to be very special.One of the reasons was because you wished that the bond between the two of them would never be broken because you were a child who never had the chance to communicate well with her father.

It felt like he was born to be a father, and the things he did with Ava were so natural and sincere.Thanks to Ava, you fell even more in love with Charles.

Charles had left the house to exercise early in the morning as usual.Of course, you woke up too, but without telling him, you continued to sleep until he left the house.

You wanted to prepare the best gifts for Charles.You had prepared one gift for him from Ava, one gift for him with his father, and one gift for him from you.You were really excited it would be emotional but you also hoped he would like the gifts.

You definitely had a cake made for Charles already, he'd probably be back home in 2 hours luckily Ava wasn't awake yet so you could have prepared a special breakfast for Charles

Really, everything was going as planned today. You prepared breakfast with Charles' favorite things, probably he was going to take a shower first and then have his breakfast while you were in the shower, you would decorate the living room. While thinking these things, you heard the sound of the door being opened with the key and you quickly entered Ava's room.

Ava woke up and was looking sweetly at you in her crib."hi baby are you awake look at you beauty did you sleep well" Just as you were holding Ava, Charles came into the room, looking at you two and smiling.

"morning my beauties" Of course, when Ava saw her father, she immediately tried to throw herself into his arms and started to whine."noouu little lady daddy is sweaty and smells bad right now he better get in the shower" Charles pouted you shook your head in disapproval.

He turned to Ava and spoke. "Don't worry my beautiful girl I'll get you out of your mommy in 5 minutes, she's just jealous that you didn't leave my lap" you squinted jokingly Charles laughed and kissed your lips. Of course, Ava immediately started crying because she couldn't reach her father.

While you were trying to calm Ava, Charles went to the bathroom and now it was time to carry out your plan. You made Ava sit in her chair in the living room and put the gifts you hid on the table, then you went and brought some candles and lighters and put them on the table.Before Charles came out of the bathroom, you brought a few more things to the table, everything was ready. You realized that there was no water sound from the room, you immediately took Ava and entered the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Charles came in with his wet hair, of course the first thing he did was grab Ava from your arms and hug her."Charles I'm getting offended" you said and crossed your arms over your chest he laughed and hugged you with his free hand and placed a kiss on your head.

Even if you try to take Ava from Charles' arms,you give up when they both whine. Charles was very happy when he saw the table, he thanked you and started to have his breakfast. Of course Ava was in his lap Charles was feeding her from time to time.

Finally, after the father-daughter breakfasts were over, you took Ava, who did not want to leave her father, and changed her clothes for surprise. Charles had just finished cleaning the kitchen.When you entered the kitchen Ava shouted "papappappa" in your arms and stretched out her arms to reach him.

Charles took Ava in his arms, asking you, "Darling, may I ask why our daughter is getting dressed up?" You straightened Ava's skirt and winked, "Go to the living room and you'll see" While they were going to the living room, you took the cake that said "Happy Daddy's Day" on it from the refrigerator and entered the room after them.

Charles was smiling, looking at the decorated table with wrapped presents on it, you cleared your throat and made him look at you "Thank you for being the best dad I've ever known and for being Ava's dad. Happy Father's Day."

You put the cake on the table while Charles put Ava on her stool, then he hugged you tightly your eyes were full of tears and you were so emotional you were holding on so hard not to cry.

But when you stopped the hug and Charles looked at you with a smile, you couldn't take it anymore and you started to cry, he stroked your back and kissed your head "Baby please don't cry" You sniffed and smiled "I'm fine, open your presents, I hope you like them"

He took the smallest gift first, it was a bracelet made of beads that Ava had chosen for him, with the word "daddy" on it it was colorful and very cute.Charles opened the package, took the bracelet and started laughing."It's Ava's gift, she chose the beads" Charles put the bracelet on his wrist approached Ava's chair and stroked her cheek "Thank you angel, I'll never take this off" Ava chuckled at her father as if she understood.

It's time for your gift you picked up the little black velvet box and handed it to him "Well maybe it'll bring you luck, I didn't know what to get you" Inside the box was a gold necklace called Italian horn Charles smiled, tilted his head, took the necklace out of the box and put it on.

"Thank you my love it means so much" you took a deep breath as Charles held out his hand for the big and last gift you put your hand on his "Charles well this is a special gift ok I wanted you to have this because I felt like you needed it" Charles understood that you were getting serious so he put his other hand on top of yours and squeezed.

He took the packaged painting and sat on the sofa and started to tear it slowly, he opened it completely and looked at the painting, you were stressed, you started biting your nail.He looked at you and then he looked at the painting again. You asked one of Charles's favorite painters to paint the picture he was hugging with his father.

Charles was obviously very touched, but you knew he wasn't going to cry, he bit his lower lip and sighed, "Thank you, this is so beautiful, it's one of the best gifts you can give me, I really love you come here"

Charles put the painting beside him you sat on his lap as he wanted and let him hug you.Really everything was as you imagined Charles was happy you were happy Ava was always happy as long as she was with her father you ate your cake together and then you hung this painting in the most beautiful place in the house it was the best fathers day Charles could have imagined he was very grateful to you.

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allieebobo · 7 months

Note

Do you have any if recommendation?

Ooh! I have really, really bad memory(!!) but these are current faves that I have played/replayed recently that I can think of. A lot of the authors are also THE BEST HUMAN BEINGS EVER. So, double recommendation.

I probably missed a bunch out, so take this as a non-exhaustive list! In no particular order:

(Edit: Added some descriptions but yeah I got a little unhinged so I'm sorry nothing makes sense or if the quality of the write-up went down over time/did not actually give you any useful info)

WIPs with demos

Citadel, @bouncyballcitadel (I think of all the IFs on this list, this one makes me sweat the most. And I've said it once and I'll say it again: the dialogue is so snappy and well-written, and characters are SO DAMNED LOVEABLE.)

Infamous, @infamous-if (I've been manifesting Band/Musician IFs for the longest time, and then this popped up! I've even played Choice of a Rockstar, that's how desperate I was... Anyway, this is legions better than that. Angsty ex routes are my kryptonite, and Seven is just. Inevitable.)

Defiled Hearts: The Barbarian, @defiledheartsblog (I went into this wanting something juicy and fun/historical—and it's all of those things, but I didn't expect it to be so damned funny, too. The ROs are all impeccable.)

Raiders of the Caravan and Apartment 3-3, @leftski-if (A'ight listen, fantasy slice-of-life is my fave genre, and these are IT. Like, everything I never knew I needed in my life, and SO cozy/wholesome, with a cast of characters that I want to befriend in real life.)

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: An Affair of the Heart @doriana-gray-games (First off, the customization in this game is INSANE, and the branching too. I've replayed a couple of times and the little variations I discover each time just blows my mind. Secondly, it's so funny and written so well. Ngl I'm not a Sherlock fan but that's just testament to how amazing this IF is.)

When Life Gives You Lemons, @when-life-gives-you-lemonssss (Modern slice-of-life with an adorable kid, a bunch of hot ROs, CC. Hill's humor, what can I say?)

Golden @milaswriting (Really interesting world-building, one of the coolest fictional cities I've read in an IF, AND I'm obsessed with the ROs, in particular K de la Renta. Also Mila is such an awesome writer, I'm beyond excited for @beyondthegame.)

A Tale of Crowns @ataleofcrowns (This game is beautiful, polished, and SO exciting. Honestly, it looks like the kind of game created by a whole-ass game studio and would cost $50 to buy, it's that good. I really got swept up by this IF—probably played it all in one go.)

Rougi @rougi-if (Again, another game with scrumptious visuals/UI and also is just so well-crafted. I love the premise too, it's so original and fresh.)

Scout: An Apocalypse Story @anya-dev (Unfortunately this one might be on hiatus but I am/was really, really obsessed.)

Wayfarer @idrellegames (Love the game mechanics of this one, and the visuals. Probably controversial, but I like the D&D / random dice effect. And I also like the fact that it feels like an old-school RPG.)

Chop shop @losergames (The premise is all I needed to be sold, really—I'd always wanted to buy GTA as a kid but my parents were like NO WAY. Anyway, this IF did not disappoint, and let me live all my childhood dreams.)

Edit: AHH! How could I forget, one of my recent faves, Folksaga @folksaga-if (Lush atmospheric writing, super unique premise—norse mythology, plus I'm head over heels for Katla).

Completed IFs

Butterfly Soup 1 and 2 @brianna-lei (these are completed and I will never not promote them. Honestly the most adorable, wholesome, funny sports/coming-of-age IF I've read)

Elsinore: After Hamlet @lapinlunairegames (Insanely cool premise, insanely cool execution)

The Thick Table Tavern @manonamora-if (I love bar/tavern games, and this one actually lets you mix drinks! Instant fave.)

Other HGs/COGs I love: Slammed, Tin Star, Fallen Hero, If it pleases the court, A Player's Heart (these last two are so underrated, though I guess cause it's mainly wlw)

#asks #if #IF recommendations #other IFs #interactive fiction

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robocoplesb · 7 months

Note

Hey! Thanks for answering my question<3

I saw that you have smut posted but if you don't want to write that I can request something sfw.

I'm also taking requests so feel free to message me <3

Request;

Can I have a Nikki Sixx smut where reader is Nikki's soft spot and he's an asshole to everybody but her, so when she's being a brat at soundcheck for the Dr. Feelgood tour he just takes her back to his dressing room and gives her some softdom punishment? Like praising and thigh riding and stuffs?

Thankies!! ^^

I HATE EVERYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD BUT YOU, nikki sixx.

warnings: smut, thigh riding, blowjob, kisses, jealous!nikki, longfic (?), you and nikki have a long term relationship, praise, degradation, punishment.

author's note: hey bae! apologies for the delay. this is probably the longest thing i've ever written, i hope you don't mind. i don't have that much experience writing smut so I'm sorry if it didn't turn out the way you wanted! also, really liked your blog:) good read, kisses<3

“— do you think...like...he's okay?” — tommy asked you, almost static as you two watched nikki argue with a random sound crew guy.

“— uhum.” — you muttered, with a carefree expression. you knew better than anyone how stressed nikki was lately. you were probably the only person who understood him, who understood how important that album was to him and how he was really trying. during the recording of the album, you waited for him at home late at night, just to listen to him and be able to help with what was possible.

even though vince, tommy and mick thought you didn't care much for his sudden humor outbursts, you were always keeping an eye on him. did you know that most of the time, he just started yelling at people on pure impulse, but still wanted to prevent something worse from happening.

and, well, the boys loved you like you were part of their “family”, from the moment they met you as nikki's new girlfriend, a few years ago, they knew you weren't like the others. you kept pace with nikki, but were still very responsible and decided, and that was exactly what he needed. the thing is: not even all that affection they had for you was able to make them not be confused by how nikki was with you compared to others. it was obvious to everyone that you were the love of his life, yet they still couldn't understand how he could be so sweet to you while being such an asshole to everyone else.

and that was exactly what tommy was thinking about when he didn't even notice the bassist approaching you two. but you notice, you took a deep breath and smiled as your eyes followed nikki's figure, relieved because he dropped the argument.

tommy winced, noticing the annoyed expression on nikki's face as he walked. before he could start thinking about the thousands of shit nikki would shout at him at that moment, he saw nikki's expression change instantly as he walked towards you.

“— hey, princess.” — he says to you as he passes by you two, not forgetting to leave a peck on your lips.

honestly, for the drummer, there was no logical explanation for what happened between you and your boyfriend. he starts to consider bringing the idea of always keeping you around to vince and mick, thinking it was the easiest way to deal with nikki.

tommy turned to where you were sitting next to him, wanting to tell you a joke about it, but you weren't there. he quickly scans the stadium and stage, trying to find you. he can see you running after nikki to the dressing room before the two of you disappear behind the curtains.

★

the boys were about 20 minutes waiting for nikki, they had agreed to meet in the stage in ten minutes, for soundcheck, but all they knew was that, according to tommy, you and him disappeared somewhere backstage to make out. mick, visibly irritated, prepared to grab his guitar and head back to the dressing room when the bassist finally appeared. he seemed calmer, it was evident for the stupid smile on his face and (your) red lipstick stains on his neck. the guitarist wants to punch him for how calm he looks even though he knows he is 20 minutes late.

by the time he arrives at his position on stage, you sit in another corner of the stage, a little away from the musicians.

"— so, are we starting this shit or what?"

they went through five songs before the first break (which happened because vince said he wanted to go over some more lyrics again). nikki slung the bass over her shoulder and looked at where you were a few minutes ago, recording the soundcheck. he remembers seeing you there at the beginning of the last song, but now, you weren't there anymore.

he looked back and saw tommy walking to the dressing room. he shouted, getting the drummer's attention.

“— tommy, have you seen yn around here?"

“— nah, man. she must have gone to get some water or something” — he said quickly and went back on his way.

nikki imagined the same and didn't care too much at first, walking to his own dressing room. at least, he didn't care too much until he saw where you were. or better, who you were with. when he looked at the door, a plate with his name carved behind you and a very familiar man. evan-fucking-decker. he stood there, watching, trying to figure out the possibility of evan decker showing up backstage at a mötley crue concert and meeting you.

so, evan was like a roadie for the band for a few years, a long time ago. things kind of ended with him when he and nikki had an little intense argument. years later, at a festival, they met again, but this time you and nikki were already together. your boyfriend was at least surprised when you and the blonde recognized each other. when you were alone again, you told him you met evan as teenager, at summer camp, and that you stopped talking after he confessed liking you.

normally, nikki didn't give a shit about things from the past, like relationships and stuff like that. however, nikki remembered one time talking to evan late at night, drinking and talking about their lives. he remembered evan telling about a girl he fell in love with when he was younger. he remembered the whole story, actually, including the part where he said he hoped to meet her again someday, maybe get a second chance. maybe that memory made him think he noticed something different in evan's look at you. after that day, you met a few more times, always at music-related events, but nikki always looked sulky when he saw that man's face. until today, you didn't knew why.

“— sixx! it's been so long!” — fuck. did he really have to talk to that guy?

nikki fakes his best smile as he walks up to you both, putting an arm around your waist and leaves a kiss on your cheek.

“— hey, evan, didn't know you would be here today!” — he said, trying to sound as friendly as possible as his hand lightly squeezed you waist.

“— ah, my friend is helping with the production. decided to stop by to visit an old friend.” — evan looked at you as he spoke, blushing a little.

you laughed as nikki tried very hard not to open that dressing room door and lock himself in there with you until he left. the feel of your head resting on his shoulder may have been what calmed him down.

“— so, hm..you are...like..” — he said, looking a little nervous when he noticed how close you and nikki were.

“— yes! for three years. you didn't knew?"

nikki thanks you for answering before him. for him, it was amazing the way evan's expression changed from excitement to disappointment. he wanted to laugh, looking like a bully kid at school.

“— no..hm, i heard something about it but i didn't believe.” — he said, kinda awkwardly .

“— why not?” — you asked, laughing, like it was a joke.

“— ah, you know...” — he chuckles — “— you are kind of opposite spirits.”

you got confused. in fact, one of the reasons you were attracted to nikki since the first time you saw him, it was how you felt he was the first person who shared the same thoughts as you. how you felt understood.

before thinking of an answer, you turned to your boyfriend, noticing how silent he was. something nikki didn't know about you is that you could read his thoughts just by hearing his voice on the phone. you always knew how he was feeling, and although there were few times he got jealous of you, did you notice his grip on your waist, almost possessive, and the look at evan, almost murderous.

you thought it was funny, and it was a good opportunity to get rid of the boredom you was feeling all morning. you quickly say goodbye to evan, pushing nikki into the dressing room.

“— finally.” — he says, taking a deep breath and sitting down on the couch. “— i can't stand that guy.”

you laughed as you closed the door. you went to the couch too, sitting on nikki's lap.

“— i can't believe you're jealous of a guy i haven't seen in almost three years.” — you said in a mocking tone as you settled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“— apparently, three years wasn't enough for him to forget you.” — he rolled his eyes, trying hard not to give in to your touch.

“— why are you so affected by this?” — you asked as looked into his eyes. “— i didn't even remember his name. i'm not his friend since i was 15. i thought you were more confident..” — you smiled, teasing him.

“— and i thought you were smarter.” — he said seriously, making you start to get annoyed at his childish behavior. “— honestly, he fucking asked if we are dating, when he knows we are, because you said it when he met us at that festival. he was literally waiting for you to say no so he could take you to the nearest bathroom and-”

“— fine! fuck it, i understood!” — you interrupted him, putting your hand over his mouth for him to stop talking — “— fucking gross, sixx.." — you said a little disgusted, wondering how he was going to finish that sentence.

he gently grabbed your wrist and removed your hand from his face. “— well, that's exactly what he wants, whether you like it or not. and, you know, i'm generally not a big fan of guys who want to try their luck with my girlfriend.”

you smile and hold back your laughter "— i'm not going to argue with you because you look really cute when you get all possessive." — you get closer, leaving a few kisses on his face.

and nikki tries to maintain that tough pose, but when he feels you so close, after 20 minutes away, and knowing that now he will have to spend at least an hour without touching you, it seems like pride just disappears. nikki has always been like this with you, but only with you. it was physically impossible for him not to treat you like a goddess 100% of the time. and he saw you like that, as a point of light and comfort in his mind, he absolutely adored you.

you giggle against his skin as you feel his fingertips caress your hips. you pull away and stare at him for a moment. god, nikki was the most beautiful man in the world, you were sure of that.

his redemption to your charms is sealed by the gentle kiss he leaves on your lips. he feels like he melts with the artificial strawberry taste on your lips, pulling you closer until it's impossible to deepen that kiss any further. but it was still gentle, the way he held you by your waist, or how he smiled when he felt you moan softly against his lips, it was gentle.

you wish it had lasted longer. in fact, if you had known that the conversation with evan would take up so much of the time that you and nikki could have been making out on the couch, you would've said goodbye before. but you only realized when mick's angry voice sounded through the dressing room.

“— seriously, sixx, feel free to get into yn's pants AFTER the show ends, preferably”

you realize that nikki is ready to shout some childishness at mick, but thinks it's not worth it. you two would have more time after soundcheck, right?

before he says anything, you grab his face and kiss him again. less time consuming, sweet enough to make him forget whatever he was going to yell at mick.

you get off his lap and he kisses you one last time before going back to the stage. a simple goodbye that can't hide how much you both wanted to not care about any of that and can simply extend that moment.

★

"— who's that?” — nikki heard tommy ask, but didn't even bother to answer.

actually, tommy didn't care, but he was a little worried about nikki. he saw the bass player standing still for the last 10 minutes after the sound check was over. he thought nikki was going to run into his arms, but he was just staring at you talking to some random guy from afar.

“— ...nikki?” — tommy put his hand on nikki's shoulder, surprised when he felt the bassist walk away abruptly in your direction. confused, he just turned around to sort out his own things.

so, contextualizing, maybe you felt a little bored after a long 20 minutes of lying on the couch and listening to the band practice. I mean, not that it was boring. you loved life on the road, and loved accompanying the boys on tour, but you just didn't do much more than watch the boys all day before going back to the hotel.

it started as a silly joke, you thought nikki didn't even notice. you told evan that you were sorry for saying goodbye so hastily, he just laughed and said he understood. you said a few things to see if he would continue the topic, which he did without hesitation. so, you weren't sure how long you had been here, briefly listening to everything evan was saying, nodding your head to pretend you were paying complete attention as you let yourself catch your eye on nikki on stage from time to time.

you caught him staring a few times, which was the only reason you stayed where you were. you thought it was funny that nikki thought nvan liked you, because besides thinking it was stupid, all you could think about was how impossible it was. he was a nice guy, but wasn't even close to being your type.

In fact, you weren't so sure you thought he was that nice when you felt something akin to relief at being pulled away from him. the weak grip of nikki's hand on your arm, pulling you back to the dressing room, makes you laugh as you look at your boyfriend's serious expression.

“— baby, what's that?” — you say, laughing softly, knowing that nikki's temper wouldn't last long.

and he doesn't answer you, just opening the door and slipping into the room with you again.

"— no, sincerely, what the fuck was that?" - he lets go of your arm, sitting on the couch while rubbing his temples.

"— it was your girlfriend talking with someone, stupid” — You said, testing his patience. you weren't trying to be mean to nikki, you were just interested in the consequences that would bring you.

“— oh no, don't act innocent. you weren't even paying attention to what he was saying!"

“— how do you know? you weren't there!” — you say, holding back a laugh.

ge leans back on the couch, looking at you. “— because not even when you try can you take your attention away from me, right?"

you smile and cross your arms, walking towards him. you slowly sit on his lap, searching for any trace of calm on nikki's face. the depth in his greenish irises is what makes you want to go all the way. you feel his hand go up from your knee to your thigh, you place your hand on top of his, caressing the tips reddened from the bass.

“— you are terrible at teasing” — you both laugh as you adjust yourself on his lap, facing him.

“— really? it's not how you reacted...” — you smiled mischievously as you felt his hands running around your waist.

you know you have what you wanted when you feel the hunger of his lips against yours. the desperate way he squeezes your waist, pulling you closer, wanting more. you moan against his lips during this, feeling the pressure of his leg against your intimacy as he guides your body closer to his.

you immediately feel like you should have held in that fucking moan, because the next one is even louder, when nikki purposely presses her thigh against your clothed pussy again. despite the layers of your clothes, the warm feeling that spreads through your body is not light and it makes you want to cry knowing that he would still tease you for a while longer.

"— that's what you were thinking this whole time, baby? all needy...” — he laughs. you try your best to focus on what he was saying, but you just can't. you feel your body needy, fighting for more contact with nikki's, at a point where it's all you can think about.

you run your fingers along the zipper of his pants, trying to undo it, but is interrupted by nikki's hand patting yours, scolding you.

“— uh-huh...not yet” — the smile he gives you says enough, he wants to see how far you'll go for this. honestly, you could kneel down and beg at that point, but along with the excitement, your ego stayed with you at that moment. "— i won't touch you yet, pretty thing. i want to see how you will relieve yourself now.”

"— nikki-” — you pant, not sure if you can handle his teasing right now.

“— what, honey? did you think i was going to give you everything so easily?” — he took your hand from his crotch, bringing it to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss. “— you will show me that you deserve it first. actually, we both know you don't, hm? but I'll give you what you want anyway, I'll just make you beg a little”

and that's exactly what he does, in that way that he knows turns you on. the cynical look and that provocative smile that never leaves his face as he follows your every move.

he has fun with it all. you let out a whimper of dissatisfaction as you grip his shoulders, revolted by the idea of having to reach your own climax even when your fucking boyfriend was beneath you.

you started with quick movements, using all the strength your sensitive body had at that moment to continue the movements up and down nikki's thigh.

you're sure that with every inch your sex travels against his leg, you get more wet. you try to hold back your moans, wanting to show some control in the situation, but it is impossible. you feel small at nikki's look, frustrated with how he was managing to control himself.

he controls himself well, biting his lip while an arm is around your waist, he looks serene despite the fact that he's holding himself back from ruining you on that couch.

and it was hard to control himself while you looked such a beautiful mess on him. the messy hair, the lip gloss smudged on the corner of the mouth, the shirt strap falling off your shoulder (which made him groan softly when he realized you weren't wearing anything under your shirt)

he could feel the tightness in his own pants as you moved more intensely, listening to the pornographic noises you made. he was sure he could hear it outside the dressing room, he just didn't really care. it wasn't like you could just let yourself care about it now, too busy pleasing yourself.

you pressed your face against nikki's neck, slightly muffling your moans, not like it helped. your whimpers turned into long moans, full of need. nikki understood why your moans became even louder against his skin, noticing how you are trying even harder to move.

“— what, princess? got tired of rubbing yourself like a little whore on me?" — he said mocking.

panting, you hold onto him tightly when you stop moving, feeling your pussy dripping with excitement. he leaves a slap on your ass before grabbing it, his big hands not being gentle at all as he brings his lips closer to your ear.

“— that's what you are, right, baby? my desperate little whore..."

you nod your head. “— i am.” — you whisper. It's funny to see how you struggle to hold onto his words, all to show yourself as his possession.

that's how he made you feel. his. his girl. his whore. all his. and this feeling you gave him, the feeling of possession, of having you, it was the purest confirmation that he was yours just the same.

"— you are, huh?” — he laughs. nikki's hand goes behind your neck, making you look at him. his gaze is deep as he brings his thumb to your lips, slightly parting them to stick a finger in your mouth.

you moan as you run your tongue against his finger. he trails kisses from your chest to your neck. then from your neck to your cheek, stopping at your earlobe.

“— get on your knees for me, princess.”

he takes his finger out of your mouth, lightly patting your cheek before leaning in to kiss you again. he kisses you hungrily, deeply, you reciprocate with the same intensity.

when his lips leave yours, you both know what's going to happen. he leans back on the couch as he watches you get off his lap and kneel between his legs. he smiles at the sight, stroking your hair as you look at him.

"— such a beautiful little thing..."

you don't want him to notice that you blushed at his comment, quickly turning her face and looking at his pants, undoing the zipper. his cock was visibly marked by his already tight leather pants. you hurry to take off his boxers.

you push the tip to your lips, giving kitten-licks while stroking the rest of his length. the moan that nikki lets out sounds relieved. he closes his eyes at the warm feeling of your tongue touching his member.

it doesn't take long for you to take all of him in your mouth. your hands rest on his thighs as you hum against his dick, feeling the tip going deeper, your tongue running from the tip to his balls. you were trying to take it slow, not choke, but your boyfriend didn't contribute much.

despite the loud moans, he wanted more. you were caught off guard when he grabbed your hair to press your face against his crotch, making you gag. you close your eyes and let out a soft moan that is muffled by his cock, trying your best to take deep breaths through your nose, the tip hits deep in your throat. You open your eyes when he softens his grip on your hair, pulling you back before rubbing the dick against your lips.

you moan and lick everything he puts within reach of your tongue. he lets you take a deep breath before pushing his cock into your mouth again, again and again.

“— fuck, that's a good girl. such a good girl for me, princess. taking me so good..."

you hear him moan as he fucks your mouth. you roll your eyes in pleasure at the sensation, feeling a little saliva drip from your mouth to your chest.

“— i'm going to cum so hard in that little mouth.” — he says, feeling the orgasm getting closer and closer. "— my fucking little slut, waiting for me to put you on your place.”

and you like being treated like that, you both know. going from a princess to a whore, making you feel even wetter every time he degrades or praises you.

all that hits you is nikki's loud, hoarse moan as you feel something hot running down your throat. he finally lets go of your hair as you feel his taste invade your senses. it's something fine between sweet and savory, but you couldn't say you don't think it's delicious.

“— so good, princess, so fucking good..." — he says breathlessly. you feel a hand caress your cheek before patting nikki's thigh, inviting you to sit there again.

you gather some strength in your body before practically throwing yourself on nikki's lap. he laughs and hugs your waist before pulling you closer, kissing you again.

he kisses you gently, making you whimper against his mouth every time he makes a move to deepen. the kiss is long, it allows nikki to feel his own taste in your mouth. when he pulls away, you lay your head on his chest.

the tip of your nose rubs against his neck, smelling a soft scent of men's cologne that comforts you and turns you on even more.

“— love you so much, my baby” — he says docilely as his fingertips run from your thighs to your crotch. “— did so good for me”

nikki's simple validation can make you groan, pleased with yourself for taking away his bad mood. “— love you more.." — you say as you lift your head to look at him, your noses touching.

your next kiss is still slow, but not like the other. it's wet, almost sloppy and you both can feel that sexual tension burning through your skin. you moan against his lips when you feel the tip of his finger passing between your legs, caressing your pussy through the fabrics.

“— needing some attention, right, princess?”

he feels your head bump against his shoulder as his hand runs down your pants. fuck, you're going to make a huge mess before this show even starts.

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swga-ficrecs · 8 months

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long fic recs

this is a list of fics that are, well, long regardless of the trope and plot. for voracious readers who aren't satisfied with short-length writing. all these fics are considered holy grails because i don't read long fics if they aren't well-written. all fics are finished unless noted otherwise.

✒️ unfinished

yoongi

third wheeling by @untaemedqueen i absolutely love everything about this. it's a lot of my favorite tropes in one giant fic. the characters are complex and fleshed out, the pacing is good, and i love the writing style. the smut is well-written and, though the catalyst for the plot, well-paced that it doesn't feel like a smut-centric fic.

suit & tie + drabbles by @jungshookz this is is a long fic but in bullet points, so i can only imagine how long this could've been if it was written in full sentences. another fic where yoongi does a 180°, but their dynamic is adorable from the beginning. not a lot of drama, a good fic to go back to if you want something lighthearted. you can probably tell by now that i love ceo fics.

desolate by @angelicyoongie this fic is long but has a very straightforward style of writing that's easy to follow and understand. it's one of the few hybrid fics i've read where they fight for a hybrid's right to freedom. i love how much yoongi opened up and changed throughout the fic. it's one of those fics where the idea of a hybrid isn't romanticized.

the deal by @untaemedqueen a great introduction to syndicate fics if you're looking for one. this is a chaptered fic that isn't too long and is easily digestible. it doesn't touch on mafia-esque activities so much. i have a thing for romance fics where the stone cold character evolves into a romantic, and this tickles that itch.

jimin

balletteacher!jimin x ballerina!reader by @jungshookz ✒️ this bullet point mini-series should be considered a full series already, considering the length of each drabble and how many of them exist. this is a forbidden romance between a teacher and a student with different personalities, so it's interesting and endearing how they developed their feelings over time.

i want to be with you by @oddinary4bts

a lengthy oneshot of strangers-turned-lovers and how love grows slowly between two people who are worlds apart. very well-written, i dreaded how quickly i finished reading it. i love how human jimin is in this fic. the oc is very relatable as well—very realistic and not overtly romanticized. i can easily identify myself in her if i were in her shoes.

taehyung

maybe i do by @chateautae another fic that is a mix of my favorite tropes. this fic has fewer but longer chapters. another smut-filled fic that doesn't feel overworked and serves as a good break between dramatic scenes. i love how both characters developed throughout the story.

jungkook

please love me by @ahundredtimesover i loved the complexity of the characters and how they navigated through their situation. they both had to do a lot of growing up in this fic, and it was done in a well-paced manner. the drabbles also give a lot of insight to this universe. i go back and read the drabbles a lot.

evolution of a lover's heart by @jeonstudios

a heartwrenching masterpiece. i waited a long time for this to be finished, and it did not disappoint at all. one of the most emotional and resonating fics i've read so far. my heart feels for both of them so much. the kind of love that people wish they would have.

the boy with galaxies in his eyes by @oddinary4bts

an emotionally captivating and heartwrenching oneshot that i never expected to read. both characters were well-written and well-fleshed out, it was easy to fall in love with them and understand their actions. the writing itself was really magical too—flowed so smoothly, it didn't feel as long as it actually was. an absolute hidden gem that everyone should read!

4-7-8 by @jiminrings

not the longest of fics, but a great read nonetheless. i read this a while back, and it was only after i reread it that i was able to truly appreciate the characters and their development. it has a very realistic plot that tugs at my heartstrings. everyone deserves this kind of partner and love.

our first and last by @thedefinitionofbts ✨️

if you love the concept of alternate universes and soulmates, this is a must read. the author utilized scientific concepts that i had a hard time grasping and, at the same time, supported the plot really well. i'm so glad i came across this fic.

multi-member

sanguis duology + (ongoing) oneshots by @borathae absolute monster of a fic, probably one of the longest ones i've read. even though i was annoyed at mc's stubborness, i think it was a driving force throughout the fic. i also never imagined the pairings in this, but i enjoyed the ride. there were some parts where i felt the author could've woven details better to make the story smoother, but it's charming in the sense that i need to think and connect the dots from previous chapters.

a place called home by @agustdakasuga i keep re-reading this fic every few years. i loved how each hybrid came into her life and how they eventually stayed. i also appreciate how each hybrid's personality isn't necessarily stereotypical. great pacing in each chapter, good to read if you like chaptered fics that aren't very long.

the road to you by @bonvoyagenoona

a slow burn masterpiece. this fic is a rollercoaster of experiences that is complemented by terrific writing and pacing. it's very instrospective, which is something i personally like. it has a little bit of everything and a good amount of smut, but it all works wonderfully together, the words flew by quickly.

#swga-ficrecs

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lowtaperfeyd · 1 month

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A Scintilla of Excitement (Chapter 1)

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Mentat!reader

author's note: This is the first chapter of the mentat series I am writing! I'm so excited for you to see what else I've come up with for this :D (It has now taken the spot for longest thing I've written.) Also go check out my beta-reader @zzleeper!!!!

warnings: house harkonnen, death, mentions of knives,

wc: 1529

You sat on the cold, metal seat of the ornithopter the Harkonnens sent to come and get you from the heighlinder. The scraping of metal startled you when they screeched unexpectedly.

How tragic, you thought, my final moments will take place in a world with no normal sun. And no normal sons either.

The entire two day trip on the heighliner was not so bad. You were allowed to wander the empty ship corridors and explore even up to the staff decks. The only part that was scary were the ‘servants’ aboard the ship. Their bald heads, that seemed to engulf any light that shined on them, made you feel uneasy.

If this is how I feel when I see people like this, I wonder how I’ll feel when I see the baron.

They always seemed to look at you as if you were an alien. Which I supposed you were. The color to your skin that made you look more alive than them. It probably scared them just as much as it scared you.

As you continued to sit there in the cockpit, thinking about the heighliner, you fiddled with your fingers and did not sit fully still.

“We have a nervous one I see!” Shouted a voice from the front of the cockpit where the pilot was. A voice that had a distinct inflection that just screamed Harkonnen, even if the owner of the voice was whispering,

“Don’t worry the baron doesn’t play with his food.” The pilot laughed out, “But the Na-Baron, oh boy watch yourself around him!”

As you sat there, mildly disturbed at what you just heard, the pilot went on and on about the things he had seen the Na-Baron do. Almost like he was proud of him,

“There was this one time Na-Baron took a butter knife off the table and stabbed one of his uncle’s advisors because he didn’t agree with what he was saying!” He exclaimed, “One of my friends was there, he barely survived with just one eye left. Told me all about the story.”

“That's,” you swallowed so as to not hurl at what you heard, “really something…”

FACT: HARKONNENS AND THE PEOPLE OF THE PLANET, IN GENERAL, ARE USED TO THIS VIOLENCE AND ENJOY IT.

INFERENCE: DON'T ACT LIKE YOU HATE THOSE THINGS, BE VERY NEUTRAL ON IT.

HYPOTHESIS: IF YOU CAN ACT LIKE YOU FEEL INDIFFERENT ABOUT THESE THINGS MAYBE THEY'LL PUT IN A GOOD RECOMMENDATION TO KAITAIN.

“It’s incredible, ” The pilot responded, “But the real question is, why does the baron need another Mentat?”

“Another good question is where’s the store that doesn’t sell chatty pilots?”(Y/N) retorted, feeling a little sick and tired from the traveling and what they had just heard.

The snap seemed to shut him up just long enough before you landed on Giedi Prime.

“About an hour before we land on the surface, Mentat.” The same pilot muttered in annoyance.

Actually, 1 hour, 2 minutes, and 23 seconds. But who's counting or keeping track? Definitely not you.

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

As the heighliner ramp went down, it allowed you to fully see the polluted land around Geidi Prime. The black sun changed the red, metallic bracelet you were wearing to a dark and shiny gray, almost sliver, instead of its normal vibrance. You saw the guards and their multitude of weapons and dark armor.

If they were standing inside, that would be black. You thought, but that isn’t a surprising detail.

“Are you ready to walk down, Mentat?” one of the other workers on the heighliner asked.

“Yes.” You responded courteously, because you had a pretty good idea of what would happen if you disrespected someone with all the guards and important people around.

The ramp underneath your feet was extremely slippery and steep and forced you to take very slow and precise steps to reach the end. At the rate I am moving I’ll get to the end after the sun goes down. You eventually got to the end of the ramp. But, you only looked at your feet the entire time. Once you looked up you saw a man with a black hood and robes, as well as the lip tattoo you had.

That’s Piter de Vries.

You took the final ten steps to walk to him. As you walked you noticed him look you up and down in an arrogant and almost disgusted manner.

You put your hand out waiting for him to shake your hand. As you did this you said, “I’m (Y/N) (L/N), the new Mentat.”

Instead of him talking your hand he just continued to look up and down. Most likely reviewing the clothes you were wearing and the way you held yourself. Awkwardly, you put your hand down back to your side.

“Well your arrival in the ornithopter was on time. But, the way you traversed down to the ground was quite untimely.” He remarked, “It must be quite exciting for you to have your first assignment.” He added sarcastically.

Just a scintilla of excitement, it would be more if I was not here.

“But, there is no time for talking,” he exhaled, “I can’t have you seeing the baron in such attire.”

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

You looked around at the small bedroom you were given. The room had a hospital type of antiseptic-ness. The walls were bare besides small vertical groves and bolts into the walls holding things together. There was a little gray desk that had shelves that were indented into the walls above it. Beside your desk, was the little chest of belongings that were sent before you had departed from Tleilax.

I’ll unpack that before I go to bed tonight.

You turned toward your bed, a relatively small bed with dark covers and pillows. On top of that was a black butcher paper package. On the front of it, in clear print was, TO THE MENTAT, (L/N). In the package was a set of black clothes that looked similar to the ones you see de Vries as well as other people wearing, except without the cloak. On top of the clothes was a note from de Vries himself.

(L/N), I have taken the liberty of getting rid of all the unnecessary clothes in your trunk and replacing them with more suitable attire for a Mentat. In your closet, you’ll find more of the same kind in the package.

De Vries.

What an asshole.

Quickly, you walked over to your closet and sure enough when you opened it. It was like the same outfit had been cloned over and over again. Black shirt, black pants, and a shiny black belt. Three pairs of black, leather dress shoes were in there too. At the back of the closet, there was a small amount of colder weather wear. A couple of insulated black coats and cloaks.

Unwillingly, you shed your bright clothes from the academy for a dreary uniform instead. The fabric of the shirt was silking and smooth, but the pants itched badly when it met your skin.

Once you were done, you exited your room to see two, bald headed, slave girls standing outside of your room.

“Why are you here?” You questioned.

“We are here to take you to the baron. Under the order of Mentat De Vries.” The girl on the left said timidly.

“Alright…” you whispered as you closed the door behind you.

As you walked through the halls of the Harkonnen’s castle you saw portraits of past rulers who were equally as bald as the next. After four minutes of walking, you ended up in front of a heavily guarded door. From outside the room, you could hear the sounds of yelling, screams, and a thud against the wall.

Remember, indifference, and then you’ll get your way.

You nodded toward the guard, signaling to him you were ready to enter the room. Slowly, the guard opened the heavy, metal door with a slight grunt. Walking inside, you saw a long table that had chairs on either side of it and a huge spread of food on top of it. But, there was only one chair at the head. The Baron was sitting there enjoying the elegant feast on the table.

For the baron… all that food.

You walked past important officials and advisors to Baron Harkonnen sitting in the chairs. You noticed De Vries sitting right next to the baron and opposite two bald headed men. These men were dressed not like the slave or advisors, but men of higher standing.

The baron’s nephews Count Glossu and Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Rabban.

Beside De Vries, there was an empty seat. As you walked to sit in that seat, you noticed the younger man who was sitting opposite of you, the Na-Baron, eyeing you down and biting his lips at the same time.

He probably picks the member of staff that gets eaten when a couple mess up. Is he imagining me fried or boiled?

“I appear to be late, I’m sorry about that, my baron.” You apologized as you pulled the chair out and sat. “Don’t be sorry, Mentat." The Na-Baron jested, "It’s not a good look for you.”

#dune x reader #dune #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #house harkonnen #mentat!reader #feyd x you

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bsxcrxts · 10 months

Text

comfort

Luke Skywalker x fem!reader

MINORS DNI. AGE IN BIO TO INTERACT WITH MY WORKS.

word count: 5.4k longest oneshot I've ever written whoops

Contains: Luke being sad and hurt, mentions of blood and bruising (not in detail), reunion between reader and Luke post-Dagobah training and Cloud City duel, angst just due to the whole situation in general, a whole lot of tension, blowjobs, inappropriate use of the force, unprotected sex (don't do this irl unless you want a baby idk what to say), somewhat subby/needy Luke, he's pathetic. a wet cat of a man in this and I love him

A/N : This is self-indulgent, soft, nasty, and probably poorly researched. Reader's not a nurse or a doctor, just a concerned gal with a crush, and Star Wars medicine is made up anyway. I have no idea why she's on the Falcon at this point but fuck it, we ball!

You find yourself trailing after Luke in an effort to get him to rest; whatever the hell he just went through in Cloud City initially had him almost feverish, tossing around on the cot in your little makeshift medbay and muttering about things you didn't understand, things about Ben and lies and Vader. But when he sensed the latter, he shot out of bed and right back into the cockpit of the Falcon, open wounds be damned, apparently.

He just doesn't quit, you thought to yourself, momentarily enamored with his strength and somewhat miffed he's left, but then your stomach sank as you also realize you don't even know how bad the rest of his injuries even are.

You and Leia had managed to fit him with the stabilizer on his right arm before she had to excuse herself to help navigate the Falcon away from the Imperial Fleet, and you didn't get much further on assessing Luke before he snapped out of whatever fervor he'd been in and followed her. You didn't run after him, too busy trying to scour the pitiful excuse of a medkit on the Falcon for more supplies and knowing it would be a lost cause anyway– he can be incredibly headstrong when it comes to helping his friends. But you've made the jump to hyperspace now, you've felt the engines shift. It should be safe, and you're pretty sure he should really, really rest.

Creeping into the cockpit of the Falcon, you see Luke slumped in one of the second-row seats, clutching a blanket around himself. He's not speaking in hushed tones to himself anymore, but in the blue light of hyperspace, his eyes look so tired. You lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.

It's not the first time you've touched him in months, but it feels like it is– you had cradled him in your arms for a moment when Leia ushered him into the room for the first time a half an hour ago, but Luke wasn't focused then, and he definitely wasn't well enough to hold conversation with you. And the last time you saw him before today was many moons ago, before he left to become a Jedi.

Luke's face snaps up to yours. Your hand is warm and welcoming on his arm, and he wants more than anything to lean into your touch, but he still feels uneasy, like he's unsure if that would be okay with you, for some reason. The recent revelations about his parentage have left him uncomfortable with himself, even if you don't know yet. If you'll ever know.

Meanwhile, your eyes rake over his features. His lip is split and he has a gash and an impact mark across his cheekbone just under his left eye. The reunion between the two of you is soured by defeat and injury, but despite yourself, when he gazes up at you, part of you insists he looks good. Really good. You linger too long on the cut on his mouth before you force yourself to snap out of it.

"Hey," you whisper. For some reason, you're embarrassed. You haven't spoken to him in a long time.

Luke has the audacity to crack a tiny smile up at you from where he's sitting, just for a moment. He breathes out your name and leans his head against your side where you're standing next to him.

"I have a headache," he says, more like he's thinking out loud than anything. It's an excuse he's made for himself to lay against you even for the briefest time, but it's also true. His head pounds.

Luke pulls away and lifts his face back up to look at you again. There's an emotion that you've never seen before behind his eyes. "Sorry," he says quietly, like it's an afterthought. Only he seems to know why he's apologizing.

"You should go lay down again. I-I can help you with the rest of your injuries and you can rest," you say.

"You’re right," Luke sighs, and stands up shakily. He doesn't stumble, but you put a steadying hand on his back anyway, just to remind him that you're there.

The short walk back to his cot is silent. It's awkward. You know you shouldn't ask about what happened, that Luke will tell you when he's ready, but you don't know what else to say, so you say nothing.

When you do start speaking, your words just sort of tumble out. You're talking to fill the space. Luke has never been this quiet before.

"Here," you gesture, "sit on the edge of the bed. I know I said you could lay down, but I'm worried you're concussed, so maybe you shouldn't fall asleep. You said you have a headache. Do you think you have a concussion?" you ask, as if he'd know.

For his part, Luke just shakes his head at you. "I'll be alright," he insists. He doesn't know if he believes it, but he can't think of anything else to tell you to make you feel better.

Right, you think. Stubborn. Luke occasionally has a sense of over-confidence about himself, you've seen it when he talks about piloting or whatnot, and he's never been wrong about his limits, just cocky, but this time it seems almost put-on, like a show. You let it slide.

"I know," you say, and softly smile at him. When he halfheartedly returns your smile, it pulls on the cut on his lip, and you remember why you're here.

You retrieve a wet cloth and start dabbing at the sticky, tacky blood decorating his face. You take his chin in your other hand, and Luke closes his eyes while you wipe at the near-dried blood. His eyebrows knit when you get too close to a bruise, but he doesn't outwardly complain, and you move on swiftly.

Your heart is beating far too quickly given Luke's condition. He is seriously injured, and clearly went through something not only physically horrible but also mentally taxing back in Cloud City, but he's gorgeous right now.

The way his hair is parted and tousled reminds you of what he's looked like in the past, under much more pleasant circumstances. You don't know what you are to Luke; you have an absolute raging crush on him and he obviously likes you too, but he leaves to go off on his own. A lot. The two of you never talk about it. If you acted on your arousal, it actually wouldn't be the first time you'd have slept with him after he narrowly escaped death, but this feels... different.

Luke breathes out a little sigh as you glide the cloth across his cheekbone. Your stomach ties itself in knots, and you freeze.

He notices that you've paused your ministrations and opens his eyes, looking up at you expectantly. His eyes are the clearest you've seen from him today, and just as blue as always. You panic a bit, hoping he can't perceive your inappropriately-timed desire.

"I need to grab some bacta," you mutter, and remove your hand from his chin.

This time when you return, he keeps his eyes open.

Luke can sense something from you, but he isn't sure what. His relationship with the Force isn't in the best shape, but he knows you've been thinking very hard about something and he's almost afraid to find out what.

“You must be sick of taking care of me," Luke ventures as you carefully apply the bacta gel to a cut on his forehead. "Ever since you got to know me, I just keep getting hurt.”

He says it in that tone he uses when he's making a dry joke that isn't a joke at all.

“Hey, I’ll always help clean you up," you reassure.

"At least both sides of my face will be even now," he continues, referring to the scarring on his left side from the Wampa attack earlier that year.

"You look– you look good," you stutter out, finding yourself shy again. Luke doesn't even take the compliment before he keeps going.

“You’re not put-off?”

“By what?”

It's quiet. Luke doesn't answer. You realize he's talking about the fact he lost his hand in the battle. You sink down to sit next to him, forgotten bacta pack dropped to the floor.

"Luke, no, I don't think–"

“He said some things about me…" Luke trails off, and you know the unnamed he in that sentence means Vader. "I’m worried I’ll turn out like him. That I’ll fall to the dark side. But I can’t stand by and do nothing, I can’t,” he insists, passionate.

“You’re not like him."

Luke looks down at his feet, unconvinced.

You lean over and kiss his cheek, meaning to comfort him, watching a blush spread over his features.

"You're not him, okay?" you reaffirm, face feeling heated. Your hands slide over his arm and down his back in a reassuring motion. You intended to pull away to get more bacta, but Luke leans into you.

"Can I–?" he asks softly. You nod, and he catches your mouth in another kiss.

He's overeager, teeth clacking against yours as he licks into your mouth and tries to get as close to you as bodily possible. In contrast, you try to stay gentle, refusing to even playfully nip at him like you otherwise might. The gash on his upper lip splits open anyway, sending him a shock of pain that should stop his motions, but he just groans into your mouth and keeps kissing you.

"You're bleeding!" you exclaim as taste blood and break away from him.

"S'okay," Luke whines, protesting your concern. It's evident how much he doesn't want to stop; he follows you as you pull away, tilting forward. You ignore the rush of arousal flooding your system at his shameless display and grab a bit of gauze and press it to the scrape.

"Look, it's fine. See?" Luke asserts when there's hardly even a few drops of his blood on the cloth as you remove it. Obviously vying to kiss you again.

It's hard to resist him and his pleading puppy-like eyes. You press a quick peck to his forehead.

"Hold still," you say, "I need to put a bit of bacta on that so it heals." It's the justification you're using, because if he keeps kissing you, you're going to lose control and the little scrape will never heal. Luke decides to give in to you as the voice of reason.

"There," you state when you've finished with his face. "Now..." you trail off, eyeing the gashes through the fabric of his fatigues and once again feeling bizarrely nervous, "You should. You should take your shirt off next."

"Right," he sighs, feeling unsure. He reaches up with his left hand and starts undoing the fastens on his shirt.

"I could help you?" you offer softly.

"Sure," he nods.

You gently help him out of his shirt, careful of the cut in his upper left arm and scrape across his elbow that tore through even the fabric of the shirt. The shirt is falling apart, burned in places and ripped in others, and you sort of drop the fabric off to the side, unsure if it's salvageable.

When you look back up, the breath feels like it's been punched out of you.

Luke was always lean, a scrappy sort of muscular but this is new. You remind yourself you haven't seen him in months and that he's been off doing stars-know-what during his Jedi training. Behind the bruises and scrapes, he's built a bit of muscle, more defined than last time. Your eyes dart across his body; his arms alone have you biting your lip, feeling more butterflies in your stomach than ever before.

Luke catches you looking at him, catches you eyeing him up and down like you'd like to devour him, and he just gazes back at you. The blush on his cheeks from earlier never went away.

You convince yourself to slow down and wipe the dried blood off his arms and torso. There's no way to avoid how close the two of you are; you've practically wormed your way into standing between his legs as you dab bacta on the cuts and bruises that litter his midsection. Shamefully, you think about how good he smells, sweat be damned.

Luke audibly groans when you slide your hand across his shoulders in preparation to hold his arm up while you apply the medical salve. Your fingers dig slightly in to his sore musculature and he can't hold back.

"Sorry," you choke out, "want me to stop?"

"Mm-mm. Feels good, actually."

You feel another crack in your resolve form as you slather bacta along his cuts and bruises.

Luke is far enough gone himself, and you try not to notice. His breathing rate increased the second you started touching him, and he knows a hard-on would be ill-timed right now, but he kind of doesn't care that he can feel a tent beginning to form in his pants. It's a welcome distraction from the absolute shit day he's had, and he really, really missed you. The feeling of your hands on his body is unparalleled, so welcome and warm.

The logical choice of waiting even a day in order to prevent his wounds from re-opening is losing appeal for him.

You, however, continue to grasp onto logic. Not meeting his eyes as you finish applying the bacta, you step away from him and turn to fiddle with the medkit.

“Okay, I think it's alright for you to lay down now. I’ll go so you can rest," you say. You don't want to leave him, but it's the responsible thing. You'll go lay in your own bunk and mind your own business. He's hurt, he needs repose, he–

“Don’t go.”

Not turning around, you go to answer. “Luke, you need—"

“I need you,” Luke insists, desperately. He reaches out and grabs your wrist lightly, like he moved without thinking.

It's very calculated, however, when you turn around and he raises your hand to his cheek and plants a kiss on the palm of your hand.

"Please?" he breathes, eyes wide, looking up at you and begging. His hand hasn't left yours where it rests on the side of his face.

“Oh, baby,” you sigh adoringly, your heartbeat in your throat and your determination to let him alone long gone as you return to stand in between his spread legs. You'd normally settle down on his thighs and grind against him, where you know Luke likes you best, but right now you're sure to be gentle as you can. You're a bit worried about whatever unknown bruising could be beneath the pants he didn't even get off before he couldn't resist you anymore.

“Kriff, it’s been so long. Missed you,” Luke mutters against your mouth between kisses.

"Yeah?" you ask, losing the brain capacity to answer coherently as Luke buries his face in the crook of your shoulder and sucks a kiss into the juncture of your skin.

Any gentle peck you try to give Luke turns dirty as he doubles down in passion every time, almost refusing to let any kiss end until the two of you are gasping for air. He's desperate to touch you, and yes, your hands are cradling his face and he loves it, but you're still somewhat leaning away from him, standing over him as he sits in front of you. He wants.

It's accidental, what happens next. You feel a sudden pressure against your lower back that nudges at you until you tip forward, catching yourself just inches before you would have fallen against Luke, your knee coming to rest in between the junction of his legs. In your new position, he immediately grinds his hard cock on your thigh, the drag of his sizeable length suddenly against you. It's accidental, but it's what he needs.

You break the kiss and gasp. The Falcon hasn't shifted out of hyperspace and you're not off-balance.

"Baby?" you inquire, the question unspoken. Did you just use the Force to move me? Many of Luke's abilities are new. If it was him, it was a recent development, at least in your experience.

"'m sorry," Luke whines, "I didn't mean to– I don't know what happened," but even as he says it, he's practically fucking himself against you, the strain of his bulge in his khaki pants borderline painful.

You're too turned on to even admonish him. You wouldn't if you could. You liked it, liked how his growing desire for you was overwhelming him to the point of losing control.

"Need me that bad?" you tease.

You hardly expect a response, but Luke keens and thrusts hard against your leg, his cock aching and his voice catching on a moan. "Ah-h!! Angel, I told you I do," he mewls. The flush on his face is as red as you've ever seen him.

“Let me take care of you,” you coo as you sink down onto the floor. Unable to resist, you shove your nose against Luke's clothed cock, inhaling his scent and mouthing at him over his disgusting khakis.

"Oh that's– you don't have to–" Luke starts, squirming.

"Want to," you answer, kissing and licking at his bulge until the fabric covering him is damp, from his dripping cock or from your mouth, you aren't sure. His dick throbs, straining painfully against his clothing. "Wanna see your pretty cock even more though," you continue.

You don't have to tell him twice. He scrambles to unzip his pants and you help him, pulling his flushed cock from the confines of his underwear. It bobs against his stomach and smears pre-cum across his torso, across his newly-defined abs. Unable to help yourself, you lean up and lick a bit of the pre-spend off of him, which only makes his erection kick and leak more.

You place an open-mouthed kiss to his cock as you move lower, and then take him into your mouth.

"F-fuck! Your mouth, oh, you ffeel s' ohh," Luke exclaims, incoherent when you first take him into your throat, fisting the rest of his cock in your hand as you bob up and down on him. He almost thrashes, hips jerking forward and hand coming to rest in your hair, not pulling just there, a guiding weight that has you moving at an even pace, sucking at the head of his cock and popping off of him every once in a while to kiss the underside or tip of his member and make him writhe underneath you. Your cunt clenches around nothing when he moans or squirms for you.

As you slide your mouth off his cock, a string of saliva still connecting you to his tip, his body jerks. He fucks his cock against your lips and his hips stutter against your mouth, like he can't take one second without you.

"Stars, baby, like my mouth that much?"

"I like all of you that much."

His declaration is unbearably hot, and you reward him by deepthroating him as far as you can take him, throat constricting around him and your eyes watering.

Luke inhales sharply, surprised by your sudden action.

“S-stop.”

“Is something wrong?” you ask, pulling off of him, immediately conscious of his delicate state and concerned he's started bleeding or something like that.

“'m close. Almost came,” Luke admits shyly, looking off to the side and not meeting your eyes. He still isn't quite comfortable with how fast his body finishes with you, even though you've told him several times how much his eagerness and sensitivity turned you on.

“That's the point, right?” you affirm lightly, running a hand up his thigh. "You wanna cum in my mouth?"

Luke looks at you, blushing fiercely. “I don't wanna cum yet at all," he whines, softly guiding you up from your kneeling position on the floor. He kisses you, absolutely claiming your mouth before he nuzzles his face into your neck, "I don't want this to be over," he confesses, and he sounds both desperate and a bit sad.

"Doesn't have to be," you say, settling into a somewhat more dominant role, but keeping your tone is still gentle. He's liked it in the past when you take the lead, so you try it out. "Tell me what you want."

The shift in your attitude has Luke suddenly shameless, pressing himself bodily against you until the two of you can't honestly get any physically closer.

"I wanna be inside you. I-inside your pussy,” he whines.

His words send shockwaves up your spine and you bite your lip, clenching around nothing.

"A-and," he chokes out, rutting against your thigh like he's an animal, "I want you to make me wait."

You won't make him clarify the last part. You're plenty aware that's his way of asking you to edge him, to control his orgasm so he doesn't finish 'too soon', a game you've played before with him, and he's already shy about it. It makes sense right now, especially since you're basically letting him use you like a distraction from the absolute shit day he's had, that he doesn't want this to end.

"Ask me nicely," you urge.

"Please can I fuck your pussy?" Luke gasps.

"Fuck yes, oh my god," you answer, kissing him and shoving your pants and undergarments off and straddling his lap. "Need your fingers first though. C'mere," you grab at his hand and pull his digits along your slit.

Luke almost wants to groan in protest, feeling suddenly very impatient, but he practically chokes as he runs his fingers through your wetness. His eyes roll back in his head when he slips a finger inside of you, shocked at your state of arousal, and you loosely wrap your hand around his dick. He starts grinding against your hand immediately and you know you're going to have to slow him down eventually if he wants to last.

"Shit, u-um," he throws his head back to look up at you. "You're soaked. Just f-from having your mouth on me?" he ventures, feeling like he needs reassurance in this moment for some reason.

“Mm! Been– been getting like this since you started making those cute noises while I was patching you up.”

"Yeah?" Luke is soaking the praise up, working his fingers in and out of you and across your clit with as much focus as he can. He's inexperienced with his left hand, but you'd never guess. Your cunt is dripping around him down to his wrist.

"You make such perfect sounds, baby," you promise him. "Ah-h!" you exclaim when he brushes up against that spot inside you, "fuck, baby, keep going."

Luke nods against you. "Keep talking? Please?" he asks, so sweetly.

"I never get used to how big you are. You have such a pretty cock, Luke. Helping me first so I can even think about taking it."

He sinks two digits to the knuckles into you cunt and presses hard on your g-spot.

"Ohh-!! Baby!" you shout, caught off guard. "You're so good– so good, such a good boy f' me."

"C-close," he whines. He's already that far gone, even from this uncoordinated dry-humping half handjob, face a mess, dick literally twitching in your hand from the praise you're directing at him. You take your hand away from his cock since he asked to be denied. He makes no move to stop his motions on you, so you let him finger you open with his hand and play with you for a while longer.

When he's calmed down a bit and you do sink down onto him, your combined juices make a disgustingly lewd wet noise and you both breathe out moans. There's still a stretch; Luke is bigger than most, and you haven't had anyone since he left. You haven't had anyone else since the first time with him, at all.

“I-I was bad," Luke suddenly states as you work to take his length inside your dripping core. Any position takes work to fit his cock in your cunt, but riding him takes the most.

“Oh honey, no, you feel amazing for me,” you reassure, both remembering his insecurity earlier and thinking about how full his cock is making you feel.

“Nno I– don't mean. I mean..." he breathes and pauses, "I thought about you whi-while I was training. I wasn’t supposed to."

"What do you mean?" you ask gently.

"Not 'posed to have attachments. Feelings," Luke gasps, thrusting up once into your soaked cunt before his hips settle into a slow grind. He's toying with the edge of your shirt that you forgot to take off earlier, running his hand tentatively under the seam. He's shy, not meeting your eyes again even though he's literally inside you right now. In a way, you understand that he's confessing something very secret to you and you're reeling a bit.

'Missed you," he says earnestly for the second time this evening when you don't say anything back right away. His gaze finally lands on yours and something is electric in the air. He's practically given you his love confession several times in the last hour but this feels different.

"I don't think that's bad," you say, barely above a whisper. "Not at all. I missed you too," you kiss him again, rolling your hips.

And then, “What’d you think about?” because you can't resist.

Luke's hips go back to a stuttering pace, alternating between grinding up into you and the occasional rogue thrust, like he's holding himself back.

"Uh-uhm," he falters, fighting self-consciousness at sharing his fantasies, but the words start spilling out of his mouth anyway, "The way you smile at me when you're f-flirting. What it feels like to kiss you. A-and I thought about your hands and what they feel like on me. When you hold me, or... or when they're wrapped around- ugh m-my cock."

You gasp, but Luke continues without pause.

"How I wanna fuck you slow in bed in the morning. I'll be good. I-I can make it good f' you. Worth waking up early for," he promises. It's startlingly domestic, but before you can linger on it, he keeps going. "Missed your– haa, ah, your pretty tits, too."

"What about them?"

"How gorgeous they are. How you look when you don't wear a bra. C-can't look away."

"You wanna see?" you ask, surprised he hasn't asked you to take your shirt off earlier.

Luke whines, eyes hooded as he nods. "Please."

You practically throw your shirt off and unclasp your bra in record time.

You shift, pushing your chest towards him where he sits, as a desire to give him everything he's ever wanted burns inside of you. He deserves it. He's supposed to have been solely concentrated on learning to be a Jedi– and he clearly has been training– but on top of it, all he's admitting to focusing on not only just some ancient mystic wisdom but also on you, too. You think you love him.

You run your fingers across the nape of his neck and pull on his golden locks, guiding him towards your tits.

You roll your hips against him, pussy clenching around him as he sucks your nipple into his mouth, rolling the bud over his tongue and moaning with every breath.

"Fuck! D-don't move like that. I-I'll cum. M'gonna cum."

"Want you to," you say, but you stop your motions anyway.

"N-not yet," he chokes out. "You haven't– I want it to be good for you," drooling against your tits.

“Stars, you're so sweet. Look how good you’re being for me right now,” and he is being good. He’s being so good, so considerate, and your pussy involuntarily tightens around him again at the thought.

"O-oh shit, I can't take it, I c-can't fucking take it," Luke voice shakes, and in an impressive show of strength for his current state, he pulls out of you and flips your positions so you're laying on the cot and he rests on his knees between your thighs. He doesn't push back inside you; his cock rests against your clit, and he distracts you by leaning down to kiss you for a moment. It's his way of stalling; you know he needs a moment to hold back from finishing.

Even though it feels nice, the contact is not enough, not when you've had a taste of him inside your walls already, and you let yourself paw needily at him, trying to get him to slip in.

"You're as bad as I am, aren't you?" Luke huffs lightly, amused.

"Yeah," you breathe "I just want you, so bad."

“I– I thought I might've sensed that,” Luke says, almost sounding smug momentarily, happy with your response, "through the Force, but I- I wasn't sure if it was just my own desire," he drops that absolute bombshell on you before he mercifully slips back inside you and sets a rapid pace. Your hands fly above you to brace yourself against the wall of the nook.

"S-shit! Baby! Y-you can hear what I'm thinking?"

Luke groans, dropping his head and trying to formulate a coherent response. "Kind of. It's more like I feel... intentions, if you think really hard about something, I-I can sense–"

Your eyes flutter closed, and the way your cunt tightens around his dick cuts Luke off completely. You're rapidly spiraling towards your own high, his words and his cock wrecking you.

All your energy goes into projecting as much lust as you possibly can at him; you're running through every fantasy you've ever had, every dirty thought about him that's ever crossed your mind in an effort to get him to pick up on your emotions. It works, and Luke has to catch himself with his hand before he collapses on top of you.

"Haah, ahh," he whimpers, "That's- that's- y' feel like that about me?" he asks, his eyes rolling back in his head. He's positively losing control, his hips grinding into yours as he pounds into your pussy.

"Yes," you insist, "god, Luke, you fuck me so good, don't fucking stop."

Luke's cute little whines are coming more frequently, his thrusts more erratic, but he doesn't stop. You know him well enough to know he's not going to be able to hold off much longer, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his thighs nearly shaking with effort. Your own high is rapidly approaching.

"Close?" you ask.

"Y-yeah, been close," Luke answers with a bit of humor. “Please let me make you cum first. I just wanna make you cum first,” he cries out, pussydrunk and unable to think of anything other than his and your impending orgasm.

He sits upright again, pulling you in one swift motion by your hips to meet his, then rubs at your clit, circling you. The last inch of his cock slotting into you and the extra stimulation is the only thing you needed to push you over the edge, grinding down on him and yelling his name.

When you come down seconds later, you're met with Luke's gasping moans and begging. He's lost any self control he was able to display before, falling apart in front of you and inside you.

"Ah-haah, fu-fuck, fuck! Gonna cum, am I allowed– can I cum inside you? Please can I cum in you?" he reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers in his.

"Oh Luke, give it to me, baby, please!"

He groans, accompanied by a nearly incoherent mumbling of your name as he spills inside you, hand squeezing yours. His cock gives a jolt inside of you and the feeling of being filled by his spend makes you topple over the edge again, overstimulated. There's so much of his cum that you feel it drip down your thigh before he even pulls out and you wonder when the last time he let himself cum was at all. He curses and cries out under his breath when you tighten around him a second time, aftershocks still traveling through his body as he collapses next to you in the tiny alcove of the wall.

"Love you," he confesses in a hushed tone as he settles there against you, his face tucked shyly into your shoulder.

"Love you back. You have me," you answer with a quiet confidence. When he looks at you, you see the tiniest pinpricks of tears in his eyes.

"Hey," you run a hand along his back, "it'll be okay."

"Yeah," Luke nods against you. It will be.

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A/N: I don't know how clear I've made it but when I was writing this I was imagining reader and Luke having a sort of on-again-off-again thing (due to the whole Jedi training and extended amounts of time apart) in the past, and that she'd mayyyybe also "comforted" him after Hoth, mayhaps one day I write a prequel to this fic? idk yall know me and following through so no promises lol

#luke skywalker smut #luke skywalker x reader #becca's bs #not proofread #poorly researched and probably poorly written LMFAO #enjoy. this took me so long for no reason #if there’s inconsistency in so sorry

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harmonysanreads · 1 year

Note

Since you have requests open: I love the way you write Venti, but I don’t think I’ve seen a yan!venti written by you. I’d love you see your take with him!

Hiraeth

yandere!venti x reader

cw: yandere, venti needs therapy probably.

I've wanted to write Yandere Venti for the longest time actually! But the reason why I stalled on writing him is because I had the nagging feeling that Venti was different from the classic yandere, however, I just couldn't pinpoint what exactly. Thankfully, I had an epiphany prior to this ask and in its honor, here's a proper oneshot for everyone's favourite drunkard :)

Venti had let you go.

Morax and Beelzebul were baffled when the news reached them ; what went through the wind-wisp's archaic, intoxicated head were never apparent to the other archons to begin with, but this, this really might've been the most befuddling decision the anemo archon had made — by their logic, at least.

After all, they wouldn't be so careless, unclipping the wings of the object of their unbridled affections and letting them soar, watch as it pranced around the beautiful world and unto the cage of another even so — the other archons are not so rid of paranoia, they are not so selfless. Hardened by the passage of time, they merely know how to own and chain what they deem precious. Such was their simple rationale ; to hold onto the one thing keeping them sane and by doing so, rob them of their freedom.

But by what logicality, what justice, can Venti deprive you of the same freedom he preached? He might instead just steal away your ability to breathe. The anemo archon digresses, it's not like this was another one of his drunken whims, no, no. He'd already made peace with himself, as the patron of the winds, he understood the vitality of his decision and neither did he care for who it baffled or who put effort to understand.

After all, when you love a bird too much, you let it go.

Such was Venti's simple logic and when he came into terms with the same conflict that currently plagued the other archons, when the sight of your grateful and elated smile reflected on his cerulean orbs along with the unhesitant promise of returning to the City of Freedom soon — Venti knew he'd made the right choice.

For he knew this just as well, when an overly attached bird finally tastes true freedom, by its own gratitude to the owner, it'll one day fly back to its previous cage.

Therefore, the wind-wisp was worry-less ; further adding to this was the fact that despite not technically being within arms reach, you actually always are for him. Because, even the all grounding earth must stop to let the water take reigns, no thunder crackles forever, snow and fire extinguish each other and flora and fauna cannot grow in the air — but the wind, it flows to every crevice of the waking world, forever cradling it and keeping its pace to the marching of time. The winds are limitless, so there is not a single moment where Venti cannot feel your presence or hear your breath and voice. There is not a single instance where he has you out of his sight, not a single time where the same winds hadn't coerced those who'd meant you harm.

Though, it's also true that a chief characteristic of the wind is mischief. As it protects, so does it nudge towards danger. But the fun part is actually this : you'll never be able to accuse it because of its ever fleeting nature. So then, who else do you blame when everything in your life seems to go wrong in all the unfortunate times, when every turn and stride has you plunging deeper, deeper, deeper in failure and you're left beaten, broken and never having wished to leave your safe home — why, you blame the entire world and the heavens alongside it, of course.

But you can never blame the one who'd unclipped your wings, not when they'd already given their warnings but still allowed you to fly because they love you so. The blame can only be shifted to you, yourself for not listening, for being so desperate. Never to the one who'd opened the gates for you to fall victim to the world's cruelty, the same freedom's cruelty ; even if the person happened to be the patron of it.

Wandering the world, uncovering its secrets and witnessing all the events it had to offer was your wish. To not be bound to Mondstadt solely and to have the freedom of traversing the entirety of Teyvat was your one desire. The wish your ever so benevolent archon had granted you, chaining you with the shackles of gratitude. But when you finally see the world's true colours, would you wish for that same freedom again? Mondstadt is the sole nation capable of bestowing true freedom, this, Venti had told you before. But since you're so insistent, so curious, so suspecting of him — he wouldn't mind letting you see it for yourself. After all, time is something he never lacked.

Venti had let you go, yes. But it's also true that he wouldn't have done so, if he wasn't certain you'd crawl back to his arms in the first place.

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kakujis · 8 months

Text

what do i call you?;

summary: oliver thinks you'll be easy, just like the other girls he's slept with. but things are different when you don't cave in like he wants. pt 1 | 2

warnings: college!au, afab!fem reader, fratboy!oliver, wildcard!kunigami, this one is a bit angsty, oliver is actually a big softie, situationships, implied fwb with kunigami + karasu, one sided pining (oliver), oral f!receiving, praise, pet names, p*ssyjob, swearing, mentions of drinking, reader is confused on her feelings, if i missed anything lmk, around 7.1k

an: this took me literal months... send help. well, it's finally here! after months of sitting in my drafts half written, i was able to finish it. if the smut is bad, i'm sorry idk how i did it before LMFAO. thanks to zen for letting me ramble about this in their dms for months. tbh i think this is the longest fic i've written so far and ofc it's about this guy LOL. also, i may or may not have a mini playlist for this so lmk if u any of u would like the link :>. resident of: @enchantedforest-network

the first time you “meet” oliver aiku, it’s the morning after you were a drunken mess on your best friend’s back. it’s not that he’s surprised to see someone that isn’t sendou shuto in his kitchen, it’s the fact that you’re not walking out yet. instead, you fix yourself a bowl of cereal, barely paying any mind to the brunette watching you. before he can speak you leave, padding back to sendou’s room.

the second time happens when he catches a glimpse of you in the library with karasu tabito. your arms hanging around his shoulders in a back hug, as you peer down at his laptop. he notes the proximity and nonchalant demeanor of karasu, typing away while he talks to you about his latest class, even with your cheek pressed against his. maybe you’re his girlfriend, he thinks, before shrugging and moving on.

the third time happens when you stumble down a hallway at a party, bumping into him as you giggle out a quick, “sorry!” but kunigami rensuke isn’t far behind, grabbing your hand and scolding you before he offers an half assed apology as well. he doesn’t think much of it, preoccupied by his own date, until he sees kunigami pick you up as you babble in his ear about something.

the official meeting is when you’re having a movie night with sendou at his dorm again. your head lays in the red head’s lap, texting your friends as you give distracted “mhm”s to whatever sendou’s saying.

“are you even paying attention?” sendou asks, eyes flickering between you and the screen. before shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“sen, i really don’t care about whichever gravure idol you’re into right now.” you reply, before your lips curve up into a smile at whatever text you’re reading.

for once, he’s unsure what this feeling is inside him. is it jealousy? awe? he can’t pinpoint the reason why his dual toned eyes always trail to you, taking in your pretty form. but he’s oliver aiku, he could probably get into your pants if he tried hard enough.

he slides down onto the couch, slinging an arm over sendou. “whatcha watchin’?” he’s not really paying attention to what’s on the tv, their voices muffled as he notes your form through his peripheral.

the red-head shrugs, “some romcom that she picked out and isn’t even watching.” he pokes your head, “at least introduce yourself.”

“mm?” you hum, moving your phone away to peek up at oliver. from the way you’re positioned you’re viewing him upside down. you readjust, twisting and pushing yourself up onto your knees, leaning over with one outstretched hand. “hi, i’m y/n.”

“you’re blocking the screen!” sendou exclaims, but you don’t move, eyes locked on the brunette across from you.

oliver tries his best not to leer, really, but he drinks you up with his eyes. it’s hard not to since you’re wearing a shirt that’s clearly too big with the way it falls off one shoulder. he thinks you’d look pretty underneath him and wonders if you make even prettier sounds.

he reaches over to shake your hand, to sendou’s dismay, and maybe it’s cliche but he swears he feels a spark for the very first time. it’s something that gets his heart racing, something new and exciting.

“i’m oliver, nice to officially meet you.”

the upcoming months blur and melt into each other, there’s not much to be noted. beyond you coming over every so often to hang out with sendou, what is there beyond soccer practice, classes half paid attention to, and meaningless hookups? frat parties? sure, you both attend them. with each other? not necessarily.

no, you continue to evade oliver aiku’s grasp.

“i can’t,” the text reads, “i promised to go with kunigami.”

he frowns, before typing back: “maybe next time then?”

“maybe.”

it’s fine, he thinks, fixing himself another cup of alcohol. he’ll find another girl, it’s easy. but even the ones he’s been with before, the ones who always answer his texts for a quick fuck are starting to bore him.

it doesn’t help that when you arrive you look so good or that you excitedly greet everyone with a smile and a hug. his hands always linger on the small of your back until you pull away, scampering back over to your date.

it’s confusing, you swear up and down that you aren’t dating kunigami, but anyone would think you’re with him. especially when your arms are always laced around him, body pressed against his as the two of you talk. he’s always wondered what you could possibly be talking about, kunigami isn’t much for words let alone full blown conversations. but maybe he’s like oliver, fallen deep for how easy it is to talk to you.

seconds tick into minutes, which turn to hours and before either of you knows it, you’re tipsy, lips curled into a smile as you giggle and shout while your friends play beer bong. he leans against the wall with sendou, trying his best to not stare.

“you could try talking to her more.” his friend says, breaking the silence between the two. “or are you just gonna stare at her forever?”

“is she with kunigami or not?” he asks, ignoring the question, “every time i ask her out i get turned down.”

“yeah, i dunno either, she doesn’t really answer that.” sendou replies, taking another sip of his beer. “i think she’s just messing around, if that helps.”

if that helps - oliver is pretty sure it doesn’t, but he knows sendou isn’t going to tell him everything. still, the vague response pisses him off.

there’s also the fact that the two of you have similar friend groups and that you’re a clingy drunk that throws him off. when he finds you in kunigami’s arms again, dozing away in the crook of his neck, the grip intensifies on his cup, indenting the red plastic. his close friends notice it too, the weight of his stare is heavy as if there’s on a spotlight right where you’re sitting.

but he puts the facade back on when another girl approaches, a welcoming distraction. she’s cute and he recognizes her as being part of his fraternity’s sister sorority. unfortunately, he just can’t focus on her and what she’s saying. his eyes continue to flicker back to you, hot jealousy continuing to bubble in his stomach when he sees kunigami’s hand rub circles on your inner thigh.

the girl is still talking and he’s doing his best to at least nod when she finishes a sentence. but the final straw is when you sleepily smile at kunigami, as he reads your lips, ‘that tickles!’.

“hey,” he interrupts, grabbing the closest friend to him, “could you excuse me for a second? by the way, this is sendou.”

it was brief but for a moment, sendou felt it. the too tight grip on his shoulder and the nails digging into his skin through this cotton tee indicated one thing: jealousy. but before he can speak, oliver’s maneuvering his way through the crowd with a one track mind.

when he makes it over to you, your grip on kunigami’s shirt is so tight as his hand continues snaking it’s way under the hem of your skirt. you’re not sure if the heat is coming from desire or the alcohol swimming through your veins. your gaze is something oliver’s seen before with countless other girls, it’s sweet, but laced with want.

“hey, pretty girl.” he says, voice cutting through the air like a knife.

you tear away from kunigami’s gaze, smiling cutely when you see who it is. “oliver~ hii,” you sing, twisting a little out of the ginger’s grasp to reach your arms out towards him. “come, come.”

his heart thumps against his chest and he moves closer to bend down and give you a side hug. “what’s up?”

“mm, nothin’,” you chime, tilting your head to the side, “just hangin’ out, right rennie?”

rensuke nods, but his eyes are locked on oliver, clearly annoyed at the interruption. his arm finds it’s way around your waist, pulling you closer.

as fast as you make oliver’s heart race, you’re just as quick to make it drop. it’s a nickname and nothing more, right? so why does it feel like he’s going to throw up? something that sounds sweet on your tongue feels sour on his.

there’s something beyond the disdain that he hides behind his forced smile and if oliver's one thing, it’s petty.

“aren’t you a little too drunk, y/n?” he asks, grabbing your arm before pulling you up, maybe it’s the irritation but he almost yanks you out of the ginger’s grip.

it catches rensuke off guard as you stumble up and out of his lap. you’re shaky on your feet, but oliver’s there to replace not only kunigami but any thought inside your pretty head.

if you weren’t so drunk you’d probably notice the hammering of his heart as you wrap your arms around his neck for stability.

“carry me?” you slur and he nods, chest swelling with pride because tonight he won.

“of course, wouldn’t want anyone takin’ advantage of you.” he smirks, leveling his gaze with kunigami.

if he was being honest, he would probably lose if he got into a fight with him. yet, the sweet satisfaction that he can hold onto in this moment overtakes that thought. with your head on his shoulder, you start to doze off, missing the way kunigami stands with balled fists.

“what do you think you’re doing, aiku?” he starts, before moving forward, but oliver steps back.

“making sure y/n’s alright,” he says, “besides you were pretty touchy just now.”

“cause she’s my date.” he states, starting to get irritated with how every step he takes forward oliver takes another back.

“and she’s had too much to drink, right y/n?” you mumble something incoherent and oliver nods. “see?”

the air is tense. not only is oliver edging kunigami on but the group playing beer pong has noticed and quieted down. before things continue to escalate, karasu swings by, wrapping an arm around the wildcard’s shoulders.

“oi, rensuke we need someone to fill in fer otoya.” he says, eyeing oliver as well. if only he could laugh at the irony.

if it isn’t number one and number two. he thinks, recalling the amount of time he’s seen you, arms linked with karasu’s as you wander the halls to your next class. but three is the luckiest number, or so he’ll hope. and besides, hierarchies can always change.

rensuke’s quick to shrug the crow off, the scowl on his face ever present, but tabito doesn’t seem to mind. he’s too focused on the sleeping girl in oliver’s arms.

“well, i don’t really feel like fighting today,” oliver continues, “so we’ll be on our way.” he walks off before the other two can get a word out, nodding to sendou who seems pleased to talk to someone about himself.

there’s only the sound of the shoes on pavement as oliver walks you home. nestled in his arms, you sometimes perk up to mumble something incoherent or make a noise in his ear. he doesn’t mind, the campus is nice and quiet at night.

“oliverr,” you slur out, “where are we goin?”

“home, princess.” he answers, making sure to call you all the nicknames he wants.

“your dorm?” you ask and he swears the red tips of his ears are from the cold. but it’s not cold at all, it’s the middle spring semester.

“if you want?” he jokes, before quickly adding, “nah, yours.” he’s told himself before that if he waits it out, he’ll get to you. but it’s been a few months of this back and forth, where you feel so close yet so far.

“we can’t go to my place!” you whine, “i forgot my key.”

“and where’s your roommate?” he asks, stopping, because he’s realized another thing. he doesn’t even know where your dorm is.

“at the party,” you pout, before pulling away and looking at him. “you’re cute, oliver. you should date her.”

he gives a dry laugh, heart only semi-crushed. you think he’s cute. he’ll take it, especially when it’s beat accelerates further when you push his bangs back.

“sweaty.” you note, before wiping at his brow.

“hey,” he says, knowing that a blush has crept onto his cheeks, “stay on track here. where am i taking you tonight?”

“your place.” you furrow your brow. “how many times do i have to say that?”

“sorry! just making sure.” he says, shrugging before resuming the walk. it’s not too far off course, if there ever was a course to begin with.

you settle back into place, head on his shoulder, and humming to yourself. oliver appreciates the music.

“not gonna take my offer, eh?” you ask, breath tickling his neck. “she’s pretty, funny, but not as funny as me, remember that.”

“i don’t think i’ve met her before, have i?” he asks, scanning his mind of recent memory. truth be told, he can’t recall you showing up with anyone that wasn’t a guy on the soccer team.

“hm? you know everyone.” you counter.

feigning innocence, he asks,“do i?”

“maybe its because you’ve met soo many girls, you don’t remember her.” you retort and he winces inwardly at the disdain clear in your voice.

“c’mon now,” he says, “i really don’t know that many.”

you hum, “mm, i bet if i didn’t show up as often you wouldn’t remember me-”

he’s quick to cut you off, “not true.” it’s too early to say he loves you, maybe infatuated is a better word.

“if you say so,” you sigh, mind still buzzed and muddied. “are we there yet? i’m sleepy.”

“just up the stairs,” he mutters, “feel free to fall asleep.”

when the two of you arrive at the dorm, you’re fast asleep. he tries to move you onto the couch but you continue to cling, grumpy moans coming from you as he tries to pry you off.

“you’ll kill me if you wake up in my bed,” he mutters, so he carries you off to sendou’s room. “here, it’s sen’s bed.”

“don’t go, i need to cuddle with someone,” you mumble, words still slightly slurred, “til sen comes back at least.”

he stills, knee sinking into the mattress, one hand on your back the other on the bed to steady himself. “you’re gonna kill me when you wake up.” he murmurs, but suddenly the perfume you’ve wearing smells really good. so does your hair and even the skin sticky with sweat is appealing. he wants to stay.

“noo, i won’t,” you whisper, the scent of alcohol still heavy in your breath. “promise.”

“…you want me to stay that badly?” he jokes, inwardly cursing at how easy you make him crumble.

he swears his heart nearly stops when you giggle out a “yeah.”

he settles in, maneuvering the two of you so that you’re laying on his chest. you fall back asleep quickly, nuzzling into him while your arm is splayed across him.

it’s comfortable, he thinks, different from the other girls who get up and leave him after sex. not that he ever asks them to stay, actually preferring it when they leave. but he didn’t realize that someone could actually feel this good in his arms.

“i think i’m actually falling in love,” he scoffs in disbelief, before throwing a palm up to his forehead, a grin plastered on his face. “goodnight, princess.”

he’s not surprised that you left before he woke up that morning. what’s actually surprising is how you seem to avoid him more lately afterwards. at least before you’d throw a few snarky remarks his way and listen to him talk for a bit before you’d inevitably wander back to your phone.

it’s been about two weeks since that night and oliver’s got the message enough to leave you alone for most of the time you’re over. even when you come over for a movie night, he’ll try to keep his talks to you at a minimum. sometimes inviting over another teammate to fill up the awkward silences.

even before the incident, he thought that maybe there’s a reason for it. a reason that he contemplates more one day as he watches you from the corner of his eye. there’s a reason why you’ll lay in sendou’s lap and not his, why you’ll hold hands with your other friends and not him, why they get meals while he gets scraps.

he’s got it half right. there’s been too many texts from sendou asking how to get a crying girl out of his dorm, too often have there been “and that’s another one out the dorm,” calls.

there’s a reason you keep him at arms length, why the most affection you’ll do is give him a quick hug. but he feels that you’re chipping down ever so slightly with each hang out, each party, and each “goodnight.”

is that why tonight you don’t follow sendou to his room when he says goodnight? why you awkwardly fiddle with your hands, something he’s noticed you do when you’re nervous. he misses you and he feels a little more ambitious or perhaps insane for thinking that you might miss him too.

he clears his throat, prompting you to peek at him from his side of the couch. “you goin’ to bed?”

to his relief, you shake your head answering, “not yet, you?”

“depends. you want company?” he asks, sliding over to where you’re sitting.

you giggle, something he hasn’t heard from his end in weeks, giving in to his little game. besides, no one else will text you back this late at night, “i don’t know, do i?”

he grins, “i think so.” emboldened, he glides his hand underneath your blanket, before he presses his hand against your thigh. he waits a second to see if you’ll stop him, but you don’t.

his hand trails up until it’s dipping past the waistband of your shorts. he smirks when he feels the wet patch on your undies, “and here i thought you didn’t like me.”

your breath hitches slightly, “what do you mean? i’m always nice to you.”

“thats debatable.” he mumbles, slipping your panties aside to ghost his fingers up and down your slit. “especially lately, you don’t even wanna look at me.”as he’s about to sink a finger in, you jolt forward, grabbing his wrist.

“wait!” you gasp, chest heaving. he stops, just like you ask, never having seen you so flustered before.

“waiting.” he says, doing his best to not have his mind too muddied by the heaviness in his pants.

“i don’t want to.. um, i don’t think we should fuck.” you stumble over your words, unable to take your eyes off his hand.

he blinks, “okay.” he won’t push it. retreating, he tries to sit back, but you don’t remove the grip on his wrist. “uh, are you gonna-“

“we could… do other things though.” you mumble, but you release his hand and push it away anyway. “actually, nevermind.”

he grins, finally getting it. “so you want me to finger you, is that it?”

“do you have to put it that way?” you groan, laying back and covering your face with your hands.

“finger fucking?” he jokes, but he’s slinking back forward, his hand traveling back to it’s rightful spot.

you groan again, but not without spreading your legs for him and he smiles.

“not gonna talk to me?” he continues, one thumb slowly stroking your cunt through the fabric of your panties.

“do you want me to change my mind?” you answer, muffled by the sleeves of your hoodie.

“please don’t,” he laughs, before tugging at your clothing. “can i?”

you nod again and he’s quick to pull them off. it’s his turn to lose his breath, lost in how pretty your folds glisten for him.

change of plans, he thinks as he levels himself down onto the bed.

“oliver?” you call, peeking through your fingers again.

“as long as we don’t fuck right?” he asks, licking his lips and you can read the anticipation clear on his face. but he’ll wait for you to say yes, like a dog on a leash.

you nod again, the both of your hearts hammering as you do and he dives in. he starts slow to savor it, his tongue moving with long languid strokes between your folds.

he knew you’d taste good, but not this good. even better are the noises you make, well the ones you’re trying to hide. he glances up at you, your face contorted as you bite down on the sleeve of your jacket. a heavy blush creeps onto his face, you’re so pretty.

you arch your back as he slides his tongue over your clit, bringing his fingers up to prod at your opening. he continues to work his tongue over your already swollen clit, suckling out mewls from your lips. when he sinks his fingers in, your jaw drops as you gasp out a “fuck!”

covering your mouth again, you whimper as he picks up the pace. he wants to hear that pretty voice again, so he curls his digits up inside your gummy walls and to his delight, you sob out again.

by now he’s realizing he actually has shit self control. pushing your clothing up, he pulls off your already swollen clit, readjusting himself as he starts to leave sloppy kisses up the expanse of your belly.

“i wanna hear you, i wanna see you,” he mumbles, latching onto your neck and sucking in a mark. “besides, sendou’s asleep.” he actually has no clue if his best friend’s asleep, he’s just so high on you that he doesn’t care.

“take me to your room then,” you whimper, conceding, breathless and squirming. he smiles against the crook of your neck before removing his fingers from your cunt. he picks you up fast, scooping you up as you tremble in his embrace.

he practically sprints to his room, slamming the door shut before throwing you into his bed. you scramble to take the rest of your clothes off. he wanted to see, remember?

you tug on his shirt, it’s only fair if you take your clothes off that he does too. “hey… take this off.”

“i thought we weren’t fucking?” he laughs, but you raise a brow.

“do we need to fuck if we’re naked?” you scoff, but in reality, you feel a bit too exposed.

he grins, shrugging, “nah.” then he’s quick to take off his own before pushing you down. “let me finish eating, yeah?”

you settle back, sighing out a breathless, “yeah.”

with your legs spread so nicely, it’s easy for him to get back to work. he spreads your eager folds with his thumbs, admiring your pretty pussy before spitting down a lob of saliva. you jolt at the feeling, but he uses an arm to keep you still. he has work to do. his tongue begins lapping back at your folds before diving into your cunt, slurping at the arousal leaking onto his sheets.

oliver’s not typically a giver, maybe having only given a couple times in all of hookups. but this was different, he could probably eat you out for hours if you could stay a twitching, mewling mess underneath. perhaps he was starving, growling as he pulls you in even closer and you find your hands in his hair.

as his name leaves your lips like a chant, he continues to tongue fuck you, your slick trailing down his chin. your core burns as you grind onto him, chasing after your release, his stubble lightly scratching across your skin.

he switches, latching back onto your clit with nimble fingers working their way inside you. “cum for me, baby.” he murmurs, curling his fingers up again just how you like it. “you’re so fucking good for me, you know that?”

“s-shut up,” you sob, but the praise hits in all the right places as you arch your back. another indication that you like it is the harsher pull on his strands, a string of obscenities leaving your mouth.

“aw, i’m just tryna make you feel good,” he muses as he hears your first frustrated noise from pulling away. “close huh?”

“oliver, please.” you whimper, brow furrowed as you gaze down at him. you’re so close, but just his fingers scissoring you isn’t enough.

he tilts his head, “please what?” he asks, and you wonder when he got so fucking bold. “use your words.” maybe it’s the blood rushing straight to his head that’s got him out of sorts, but for the first time he’s got you where he wants you. he may be the one caged between your thighs, but you're the one that’s stuck in his web, begging for release.

his fingers continuously moving in and out of you makes your eyelids flutter, especially when he picks up the pace. “i wanna cum, please,” you beg, “please, please, please.”

he laughs out an “that wasn’t so hard right?”, before he’s back onto your bundle of nerves. he seeks out the friction of the bed for his own pleasure, his cock hard and heavy as he grinds out against the sheets.

right now though, the focus is on you. the focus is the way your thighs clench closer together, boxing him in, letting him know when what he does is good. it’s the way you greedily grind up into his face, tumbling his name off your lips like it’s the only thing you know how to say.

you finally burst when oliver murmurs, “so fucking good for me,” his breath hot on your clit. he finger fucks you through your orgasm, continuously praising you, “good job, beautiful, that’s it.”

you pant, pushing at his hand when you’ve started to get overstimulated. he slips out, but pushes you back when you start to reach for his cock. you watch with doe eyes as he smears your slick across his cock, stroking himself.

“keep your legs open.” he says, eyes lidded. “i won’t fuck you, don’t worry.” he reassures when he sees your eyes widen more.

you comply, still slightly twitching from your orgasm, when he settles himself between your folds again. he’s not far off, not when he’s been drunk off the sound and taste of you. but the wetness between your folds has his head spinning. he slips so easily between them, he wishes he could just slide into you, but he’s good at keeping his promises.

he uses one hand to keep his cockhead pressed firmly against you. you think it’s messy, his hand covered in arousal, precum, and saliva but you’re both a little mesmerized by the scene. the two of you make eye contact and he breathes out, “you’re so beautiful.”

“stop complimenting me,” you pout, before you’re pulling him down to rest his forehead against yours. “or else i’ll kill you.”

“i thought you were gonna say you’d fall in love with me,” he muses, lips barely ghosting over yours as he continues to rut in between your folds.

“in your dreams, oliver.” you murmur, but you tilt up and kiss him anyway. you taste yourself on him but can’t seem to care, as his tongue slips in to intertwine with yours.

that’s enough to set him off, shuddering as he comes undone on your belly. white hot ropes paint your skin and you pull away, lips swollen. you fall back on the bed, the only sound the two of you panting.

oliver lays down next to you, staring at the ceiling. he brings his hand up, staring at his sticky fingers covered in fluid.

“gross,” you cringe and he peeks over at you. “clean me up?”

“sure.” he’s quick to get up, grabbing a box of tissues by his bed.

“all men are the same.” you groan, but there’s a smile dancing on your face.

“yeah, this is the brand sendou and i prefer.” he jokes and you smack him playfully. he uses the tissues to clean his hand first before moving onto you, scooping up the remnants of what just happened. he pauses when he moves lower, looking at you.

are we… anything? he wants to ask, but he bites his tongue when he notices you staring back. he cleans up the rest, before asking, “so, what now?”

“i’m gonna shower, that’s what.” you say, pushing yourself up and grabbing your clothes. you don’t put them on, there’s no point since both the guys in this dorm have seen all of you.

as you turn the knob to leave, he asks, “can i join you?”

you scoff, shooting him a look. “absolutely not.”

he figured you’d say that.

it’s only 8pm on a saturday when sendou’s phone blows up.

“sorry,” he says, reading the letters of your name across the screen. “i gotta take this.”

it’s a rare night in, oliver’s own phone buzzing with “where are you?” texts from his friends. he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, the way you squirmed and moaned for him was enough to set him over. falling further into the sticky web of your hold.

when sendou walks back in, the expression on his face is mixed with concern and confusion.

“something happen?” oliver asks, pausing the movie.

“uhh.. yeah i think so.” sendou answers, scratching the back of his neck. “i think y/n’s coming over.”

there’s confusion washed over the brunette’s features. he’s not sure why this visit is so concerning, you’ve changed your mind before. saying no to movie night yet coming over unannounced anyway.

sendou sighs, “don’t freak out when she gets here.” he’s not an idiot. he’s seen basically every spare glance that oliver’s thrown your way, the schedule modifications to come home more often to see you, the way his smile lingers on you when you do almost anything. he sees the way oliver deflates when you’re with someone else, it’s quick when it happens, almost uncatchable.

“and why would i do that?” he’s joking, but the knot in his stomach is turning. what is it? you’re coming over to tell them all about your great fuckin’ date with rensuke? even after almost sleeping together, you still ran right back to kunigami when he called for you.

sendou rolls his eyes, before repeating himself, “seriously. don’t.”

oliver throws his arms up in surrender, “okay, okay.”

when do you barge in you’re in the same hoodie you wore the night you came undone under oliver’s mouth. the nervous smile on his face falls when he hears you sniffling. when the two of you make eye contact, your puffy red-lines eyes looking into his, he feels something break.

you blink, and then you blink again, as you try to fight back the tears that eagerly wish to spill. instinctively, you tug at the sleeves of your sweater trying to self-soothe yourself. you try to speak multiple times, only to stop and let out little huffs of air. it hurts too much.

sendou speaks first, gently rubbing your back as he guides you over to the couch. “hey… take some deep breaths.” you shake your head, balling your hands into fists as you continue to cry.

“want me to leave?” oliver asks, as much as he doesn’t want to, he knows you’re more comfortable when he’s not around. to both his and sendou’s surprise, you shake your head again, reaching out to him with trembling hands.

he sits closer and you lean down to lay in his lap, “l-let me cry here.” you mumble, grabbing his hand and placing it on the top of your head. “rub my head.”

oliver can’t help but laugh a little bit, “sure.” he nods over to sendou, whose eyes could possibly launch from their sockets. “hey, you heard her, rub her back.”

“pretty sure she said ‘head’” he retorts, but starts doing it anyway. while sendou’s eyes wander the room, sometimes glancing at the remote wondering if he should start the movie back up; oliver’s are glued on you.

he cards through your hair, eyes soft on your hiccuping form. he thinks you feel like his girlfriend, maybe if someone else saw, you’d look like it too. maybe he’ll ask sendou later. it’s a few more moments of your sniffling before you finally speak.

“do you guys think i’m stupid?” you ask, reaching out for the remote and turning whatever movie they had playing on.

“sometimes, yeah,” sendou answers and both you and oliver are quick to smack him. “ow! i thought you wanted the truth? and why the hell are you hitting me?!” he exclaims, one finger pointed towards the brunette.

oliver shrugs, “because you said something stupid?”

“i agree,” you sniffle, but there’s the smallest hint of a smile on your face. “you’re supposed to lie, idiot.”

“if i lie will you tell us what happened?” he asks, leaning back against the armrest.

“don’t even have to lie, i’ll just tell you.” you sigh, lowering the volume down on the tv. you start to tap on oliver’s knee since you’re nervous, but he continues to play with your hair.

“so you know how rensuke and i were… thinking of being something?” you start. you feel oliver’s hand pause when you say that, but he starts back up again. “anyway, he called it off today. he gave me an ultimatum that i didn’t wanna take.”

“which was?” sen asks, brow raised.

“i couldn’t see you two anymore.” you answer, “like i wouldn’t choose my best friends?”

“since when is oliver your best friend?” sendou asks, perplexed.

since she came on my face in my bedroom, he muses, but you answer with a “since i decided.”

“are you guys doing shit behind my back?” the redhead asks and the two of you look at each other.

“no,” you say, face heating up as you stare into pretty dual tone eyes, “we don’t do anything.”

not only is the blush on his face clearly visible, but so is the smirk. “not a thing,” he agrees. “if anything, we just… chill.”

you mouth out an “oliver!” but he shrugs, before using his thumb to wipe at the remnants of tears on your cheek. if you weren’t trying to hide from the current accusations, you’d probably just keen up into his touch.

“i don’t wanna know.” sendou groans, breaking the two of you out of trance. he gets up, turning the tv off and flickering his gaze towards you. “sleeping in my room tonight?”

you swallow, before nodding again, finally tearing your gaze away from oliver. “yeah, i’ll be there in a sec.”

you sit up as sendou leaves, the click of his door indicating when the two of you are alone. you feel vulnerable. you pull your knees up, hugging them, before you start to talk.

“i really liked him, y’know?” you mumble, “but i never really got the same vibe back.”

oliver’s silent, arms crossed and head thrown back as he stares up at the ceiling. he doesn’t particularly care to hear just how much you liked rensuke, but he’s not about to leave now.

you continue, “i think he wanted someone to blow off steam with, which isn’t bad, but… i wanted him to actually like me. like-like me, not just to be thrown away later on. i thought he could be my first real boyfriend.”

“why are you telling me this?” he asks, trying to keep his tone neutral. “wouldn’t you rather tell sen?”

you shake your head, looking back at him slightly. “no, i like talking to you more. about this stuff anyway, you seem to actually listen to me. sen’s not bad, but i dunno, he doesn’t really give me sound advice.”

“what’d he tell you to do last time?” he asks, semi-agreeing already that sendou really isn’t the best advice giver.

“sleep with karasu.” you deadpan, inwardly cringing at how awkward that interaction was.

“and did you?” he asks, voice a little ptiched.

“no! everyone thinks so, but no.” you failed, thankfully, unable to actually go through with it. but you made a friend with tabito, one that listens to your ramblings when you visit.

oliver sits up a little and you snap your head back forward, embarrassment eating at you. “did you two… do anything?” he’s started to realize something.

you shake your head again, hoping he doesn’t notice how feeble you feel. but he can’t notice that because he feels like he’s on cloud nine. “have you slept with anyone?” he asks, heart pounding.

what comes up must always come down and to his dismay, you nod, mumbling out a name that leaves him slaw jacked. “sendou. like, twice…. why am i sharing this information with you?”

“seriously? sendou?” he’s not sure whether this means that his friendship has ended, but it does maybe make some sense that you’re so comfortable around him. beyond best friends, anyway.

you spin around, “listen! it was when we had just graduated high school. we’d never slept with anyone before .. so, seriously, why am i telling you this?!”

he won’t lie, the panicked look on your face is cute, so much so that he’s a little less pissed off. “okay, okay. i get it,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder. “you don’t have to tell me anything else.”

sometimes, you don’t understand how oliver can be so sweet, but you sure are grateful for it. you smile at him and his heart melts a little. it’s so much better when you aren’t crying.

he pats your head before getting up.

“oliver?” you call, but he smiles at you and it’s your turn to feel your heart flutter.

“you should get some sleep,” he says, “it’s late. you want water before you go though?” padding over to the kitchen to fix you a glass of water.

you nod, “mhm.” before getting up yourself and following after him. he hands you the glass and he thinks it’s strange. the first time you stood in this kitchen, you didn’t even look his way. but now, you look at him clearly. sure, it’s not the ideal situation and you are leaving to go sleep in another guy’s bed, but it’s enough.

one step closer to you is worth it. it shouldn’t be long now, he thinks, you’ll be his in due time. but he doesn’t notice the confusion on your face when you grab the glass. the moment your fingers touch you feel it too, that all familiar pull, the one you were trying (and failing) to avoid. you duck away when you move towards sendou’s room, hoping he can’t hear the way your heart pounds within your chest.

it can’t be him.

“that fucking stings!” oliver hisses, instinctively pulling away from you.

you frown, “i don’t know why you went to me and not like, the campus nurse or a hospital.” you recenter his face, gripping his chin between your index finger and thumb.

“why would i go there when i’ve got my guardian angel here?” he teases before wincing again as you press the cloth to his busted lip.

“i’ve got to stop the bleeding,” you mumble, ignoring his comment. oliver thinks you look so cute when concern paints your face, he’d kiss you if you let him, despite his lip. “i still can’t believe you did that.”

“did what?” he asks.

“get your ass beat,” you snort, removing the pressure from his lip before handing him an ice pack. “here.”

“he made you cry, like i wasn’t gonna beat his ass?” he counters, correcting you and if he could pout, he would.

“oliver. that was weeks ago, no one asked you to do something so stupid,” you sigh, swiveling around to look for bandages. “there was no point.”

“no one asked you to date stupid guys,” he retorts, but man does it hurt. more than his lip or his bruised cheek, the fact that no matter what you won’t look at him the same way you do others.

“i just don’t get why you’d do something so dumb.” you say, closing the medicine cabinet while holding a box of band aids. you’re so nonchalant about it it’s infuriating. why don’t you get it?

he blinks, before scoffing, “what am i to you?”

“you’re… oliver.” you say, tensing, suddenly not liking the direction this conversation is going.

“that’s it?” he almost can’t believe it, that after everything, he’s just still oliver.

“what do you want me to say?” you sigh, voice coming out a little irritated. you’ve never done well with confrontation, especially not when it comes to feelings like this.

he sets the ice pack down before continuing, “that i’m important to you, more than just some dude you string along for fun.”

“what are you even talking about?” you exasperate, because really, what does he want? he knows you two aren’t anything, nothing more than friends and yet he tries so hard. so hard it makes your head spin, so hard it makes you sometimes doubt your own judgment on him. but you refuse, you’ll continue to listen to that little voice that tells you: no. not him.

“for fucks sake, can’t you pick me just one time?!” he yells, slamming his hand on the counter and you jump back, “not karasu, not sendou, not fucking kunigami. don’t run to them. run to me. can’t it be me?”

“y-you’re crying,” you deflect, trying to look anywhere but him because if you look at him, you’ll want to hold him. you’ll want to give him, tell him that maybe you two could try to be something. you don’t even argue that kunigami isn’t an option anymore.

“i don’t fucking care.”

“and i don’t know what to say.” you answer, eyes glued on the box in your hands.

“just say the word and i’ll be yours. fully and wholly, i’ll give you everything.” he says firmly.

but you stay quiet, awkwardly fidgeting with the box in your hands.

“…please?” it comes out soft, whispery, and most of all desperate. a plea that comes from deep within because at the end of it all, he loves you.

but there’s nothing from you, it’s radio silence. it’s the quietness after midnight on a tuesday when the rest of campus is deep asleep. it’s nothing. and for a brief moment, he’ll accept it, because it’s harder for him to sit in this continued rejection. he’ll accept that right now, you don’t want him.

he gets up, pushing past you not even bothering to wipe the tears that trail down his cheeks. and he thinks, maybe even a small bit of him prays, that you’ll stop him.

but you don’t, staring at the tiled floor as he leaves, and oliver feels his heart shatter into tiny glass pieces. should he still hold onto “maybe”? maybe someday you’ll want him too? maybe someday you’ll be his exclusively? or should he give up, call it a day, and speed dial one of the girls in his phone?

he doesn’t know.

#oliver aiku #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku smut #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk smut #blue lock smut #oliver aiku x you #oliver aiku x y/n #pibby writing

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reivrze · 11 months

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Hii!

So maybe crush en- when them and their crush kiss but then their crush gets distant (what it is is that their crush is nervous abt the new feelings ofc) like highschool au. But if you want you can make it like the last one where’s it’s a Niki imagine that’s enemies to lovers idk lol

a/n : i apologize for the wait, i wanted to work on my series so i didn't do many requests but i hope you like this ! also i decided to leave a few of these as a cliff hanger to add suspense hehe 😈 also i didn't really commit to the highschool au thing sorry, but i wanted to make the scenarios vary, and the highschool au is restricting

pairing : crush!enha x gn!reader genre : fluff, angst warning : cursing ( ? ), probably the longest reaction i've ever written, didn't proof read lmao sorry

l. heeseung . ⁺

you guys had kiss during a truth or dare game amongst friends, your friends had been the one that dared you to kiss him as they knew you had the biggest crush on him since first grade. sure this wasn't how you had wanted your first kiss with him to go like but you were sure as hell not going to let this opportunity slip from you.

you had avoided heeseung for the rest of the night, feeling embarrassed from the earlier kiss between you two. you had been scared that if he could talk to you alone for two second that he'd tell you that the kiss was purely platonic and he had just complied because it was a dare.

what you didn't know what that he had been looking for you while you were hiding away from you. you didn't see how his cheeks turned pink the second your lips made contact with his. you didn't catch the way his hands flinched at your proximity, oh how he wanted to pull you closer to him and it killed him to keep his hands to himself. you didn't notice how his eyes saddened when he felt the warmth of your lips leave him. if only you knew all the things you missed.

p. jongseong . ⁺

jay had invited you to the studio, he had been working on a song for past month and wanted you to help him review it. you guys spent the night going over his work, not even noticing how tipsy you were getting from the wine you had been sipping together for over a few hours.

as the alcohol made its way through your veins, you head started feeling dizzy and your lids heavy, feeling tired, you laid your head on jay's shoulder. you looked up from underneath him, staring at his strong jaw, straight nose, beautiful eyes, and his oh-so soft looking lips. not really thinking much of it, your hand made its way to jay's cheek and turning his face down towards you. for once, you took a risk ad you brought his lips down to yours.

jay, not wanting to kiss you while you were intoxicated, pulled you away from him gently. realizing what you had just done, you panicked, profusely apologizing while slurring your words and pushing yourself back up ready to leave. jay didn't want you to ge the wrong message as he quickly stood up, helping you get steady,

"hey hey, love, you don't have to apologize, i want to kiss oyu but i want it to be when you'll remember it, not when you're drunk"

i struggled with that last line of dialogue, it doesn't sound as good as i wished it to be

s. jaeyun . ⁺

jake and you were engrossed in a friendly game of Twister. the colorful mat sprawled out on the floor, and your bodies twisted and contorted in an attempt to follow the game's instructions. laughter filled the room as you struggled to maintain your balance, your limbs tangled.

as the game progressed and trying to keep your balance got increasingly difficult, one misstep caused you to fall down, right on top jake, ultimately making him fall as well. for a moment, time stilled as the realization that your lips were against one another's sank into both of you, you body reacting quickly after, as you lifted your self off him, stammering apology after apology.

jake, however, had a different response, ignoring the words coming out of you as he snaked his hand around your waist, bring you back down, reconnecting your lips.

p. sunghoon . ⁺

you and sunghoon found yourselves in the middle of a heated argument. your voices grew louder, each trying to prove your point. as the tension escalated, you couldn't help but notice sunghoon's lips, mesmerized by their shape and the way they moved when he spoke. it was distracting, to say the least.

lost in your thoughts, your attention wandered from the argument, and without thinking, you leaned forward, capturing sunghoon's lips in an unexpected kiss. time seemed to stand still as your lips met, momentarily silencing the escalating argument. your action caught sunghoon off guard, and he blinked in surprise before quickly reciprocating the kiss, his lips molding with yours.

feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement, you pulled away slightly, your cheeks turning a shade of crimson. but before you could apologize or explain yourself, sunghoon reached out and gently pulled you back in, deepening the kiss. in that moment, he whispered against your lips,

"this does not mean you won the argument."

the unexpected passion of the kiss lingered in the air as you finally broke apart, your eyes locked for a brief moment. both you and sunghoon were left speechless, your argument momentarily forgotten amidst the charged atmosphere. tt was clear that the kiss had stirred something within both of you, a connection that went beyond your disagreement.

k. sunoo . ⁺

the room was filled with tension as sunoo sat on the couch, listening intently to you pouring out your stress and anxiety over your upcoming finals. you could feel the weight of the world on your shoulders, you voice quivering and tears welling up in your eyes. the pressure had become too much, and you couldn't hold it back any longer.

"I just… I don't know what to do anymore," you managed to say between sobs, your vulnerability shining through your words.

sunoo's heart ached seeing you like this, feeling the depth of your pain. without hesitation, he moved closer, his warm presence offering solace. he reached out and gently wiped away your tears with his thumb, offering a comforting smile.

"hey, it's okay," he whispered softly. "you don't have to face this alone. I'm here for you."

as his words washed over you, a mix of emotions swirled within you. the rawness of the moment, coupled with the care he displayed, brought you closer to him. in that instant, you closed the gap between you and pressed your lips against his, seeking solace and connection amidst the chaos.

immediately realizing what you had done, you pulled away abruptly, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and regret. "I'm so sorry," you stammered, your voice barely audible. "I shouldn't have done that.

sunoo's eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and affection. he pulled you back into his embrace, holding you gently but firmly. with a lighthearted tone and a soft chuckle, he reassured you,

"you know, I'll always be here to listen to your worries, no matter how big or small. and as for the kissing part, let's save that for better conditions. maybe when you're not feeling so overwhelmed with finals stress."

y. jungwon . ⁺

you and jungwon found yourselves attending a lively new year's party, surrounded by friends and shimmering decorations. the air was filled with anticipation as the countdown to midnight approached. as the clock's hands neared 12, you couldn't help but steal glances at jungwon. you had been friends for a while, but lately, your feelings had blossomed into something more. your heart raced with nervous excitement, unsure of how jungwon felt.

when the moment finally arrived, the room erupted in cheers, and all eyes turned toward the large clock hanging on the wall. you couldn't resist stealing one last glance at jungwon, your eyes locking just as the clock struck 12.

in that instant, an impulsive surge of courage overcame you. you leaned in and pressed your lips against jungwon's, sharing a brief but electrifying kiss. immediately pulling back, your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me," you stammered.

to your surprise, instead of being taken aback, jungwon burst into a warm laughter. he gently took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a tender kiss on your knuckles. "what a cute and romantic way to ask me to be your boyfriend," he said, his voice filled with affectionate amusement.

n. riki . ⁺

you and niki had been diligently practicing a beautiful and romantic choreography for the end-of-year showcase. the dance was filled with intricate movements and delicate touches that reflected your deep connection. as the music swelled to its crescendo, you found yourselves in the final position, your bodies intertwined and faces mere inches apart.

lost in the intensity of the moment, your heart raced, overwhelmed by the electric energy between you. without thinking, you leaned in and pressed your lips against niki's. realizing what had just happened, you quickly pulled away, your face flushed with surprise and embarrassment.

"m-my apologies," you stammered, your voice barely audible as you hastily gathered your things and dashed out of the practice room, desperately needing a moment alone to process the unexpected kiss. but you didn't get far before niki caught up to you, his footsteps echoing behind. gasping for breath, you turned around to face him, your eyes wide with trepidation. before you could utter a single word, niki reached out and gently took hold of your trembling hand.

"hey, you didn't give me time to say something.." he breathed out, slightly amused at the whole situation.

"i wanted to ask you if you'd like to grab coffee sometime? get to know each other outside of dance practice, you know?"

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